Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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There was a clattering noise as a training lightsaber hit the soft mat covering the floor. Eloise grit her teeth in annoyance, glaring at the female Togruta across from her who had thrown down her weapon as soon as she was called to practice.

Padawan Xertha,” the instructor said, his hands on his hips. “Pick up your lightsaber.

The Togruta shook her head, gesturing to her opponent. “She doesn’t fight fair."

The Sith won’t fight fair. In fact, no enemy you face will fight ‘fair’. So why do you expect Padawan Dinn to go easy on you?

I saw her keep hitting Jaden after he was down,” Xertha persisted. “She’s like a wild animal.

That was a one-time incident. Padawan Dinn knows that if she does it again, she will receive disciplinary action.” He looked pointedly at Eloise, who forced her expression into neutrality. “But if you do not pick up your lightsaber and participate, you will be disciplined.

Reluctantly Xertha grabbed her weapon from where it had fallen, ignited the blade, and took up a combat stance.

The mock duel lasted barely a minute. Xertha could not keep up with the ferocity of Eloise’s attacks and was swiftly disarmed. Eloise stood over her downed opponent, lightsaber poised to deliver a killing blow, but never let her blade fall. Though several other students were watching the fight, the room was dead silent. Not even a whisper or a titter could be heard among the observers.

Excellent work, Padawans,” the instructor said—just before Xertha angrily swatted Eloise’s blade away, leaping to her feet and unleashing a flurry of slashes and stabs upon the purple-haired girl. Eloise parried the blows, baring her teeth as the fight grew more brutal, until she felt a sudden pressure forcing the two to separate.

That’s enough,” the instructor warned. “You are both far too emotional—

What happened to realism?” Eloise interrupted tartly. “Or are we supposed to act like stoic killing machines in battle?

I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you need to put your feelings aside,” the instructor continued, ignoring the interruption. “You are both dismissed. I suggest you spend the rest of the day meditating on what happened here and what you could have done better.

Meditation might as well have been detention. Scowling, Eloise floated her training lightsaber back to the weapons rack and headed out.

 
Among the audience of students, a knight had slipped in to catch the last of the proceedings. Amani watched in matching silence, her hands folded neatly in front of her, but her expression struck by an unclear, gnawing curiosity. This girl—the human girl— there was something about her that had stolen the mirialan's attention. She was already quite physically distinct; exceptionally tall for a human female, purple haired, and wearing more jewelry than Amani had ever seen on a Jedi. But it was more than that. Something she couldn't quite piece together from simple observation.

This Padawan Dinn stormed off, clearly heated after the duel. Probably the last thing she wanted was an interruption from another authority figure. But Amani followed her out, keeping a slight distance at first, then closing the gap once they were well and away from the dojo, "Excuse me. Padawan Dinn?" Amani cleared her throat, "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

 
"Excuse me. Padawan Dinn?"

Eloise stopped, then slowly turned around, not bothering to hide the scowl on her face. There she beheld a Mirialan woman, unremarkable in stature or in features, her cheeks and forehead tattooed. She looked vaguely familiar. Probably another instructor or... no. A healer?

"Can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Okay," Eloise answered. Stepping to one side of the hall so that people could walk past them, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Is this about Xertha? Or Jaden? Master Chanticleer already talked to me about them. I know not to be so rough with the others during training anymore, but some of them are sore losers and they get feisty with me." Not very Jedi-like of them, but then these were half-formed Jedi, still learning, still growing.

 
The unpleasant look on the Palawan's face was pretty much what Amani expected to see when she turned around. In response, the healer offered a diplomatic, if awkward, smile. Eloise was at least amenable to a conversation without snapping, so clearly she wasn't all bluster. "Er- Not exactly. We might circle back to that, though," Amani waved a hand, "No. I just wanted to talk. Ah... Amani Serys-Organa. I'm the Chief Healer for the Order." She glanced down the hall, and gestured for her to follow.

"So, padawan Dinn— Do you have something less formal I can call you?" Amani interjected, before continuing with her actual thought, "Have you been here long? I don't believe I've seen you around before."

 
"Er- Not exactly. We might circle back to that, though."

Eloise sighed. She'd much rather be done with that particular subject.

"No. I just wanted to talk. Ah... Amani Serys-Organa. I'm the Chief Healer for the Order. So, Padawan Dinn—do you have something less formal I can call you?"

"My name is Eloise," she replied. "Can call me El, Ellie, or Louise, I don't really care." And since they were including their titles in their introductions, she tacked on, "I'm a padawan."

Which Amani already knew. Yeah. Ehhhh...

"Have you been here long? I don't believe I've seen you around before."

"Only been here about a month, so that's no surprise." Amani had said she just wanted to "talk". If this conversation wasn't going anywhere, Eloise didn't want to just stand there exchanging pleasantries. "Hey, uh, it's been nice chatting with you and all, but I just got assigned meditation or whatever, and I'm pretty sure I need to be doing that..."

 
"Elouise," Amani repeated, satisfied with the first-name basis. The padawan had only been here a month, so that tracked, "I see…" Eloise's determination to head to mediation made Amani blink. They'd just made introductions and she was already trying to end the conversation. Was the Chief Healer that bad of a conversationalist?

She twisted her lips, "W-well, wait. Sorry. I don't mean to waste your time. It's just that…" Why did she want to speak to this student again? "…You're… very familiar. It's odd." Amani knew she hadn't seen Elouise around here before, but there was something about her that was strikingly recognizable. "Where do you come from? If you don't mind my asking?"

 
It wasn’t Amani specifically. Eloise just hated talking to people. She’d rather be doing something.

"W-well, wait. Sorry. I don't mean to waste your time. It's just that… You're… very familiar. It's odd."

Well, I can’t exactly say the same for you,” Eloise said with a shrug. But then she paused, considering the woman’s double surname. “I think I went to your wedding. Or rather, I was dragged there by my grandparents. My grandfather was a senator. But that was a long time ago. I was just a kid then. Would you really recognize me now?...

Eloise bristled when Amani asked her next question. “I do mind,” she replied, with sudden intensity. “Where I come from is none of your business or anybody else’s. I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.

 
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"Oh. Huh," That would make sense, but it also wasn't what Amani was thinking of. Maybe it wasn't her, but…

I do mind. Where I come from is none of your business or anybody’s else’s. I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.

That harsh reaction had Amani taken aback. Normally she wouldn't never pry further than that, and she didn't even intend to hear, "I— I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" But that intensity was exactly what put the final piece into place. The name. The face. The emotion, "…Ishani… Rhiannon…" She seemed to stare off in recollection, before her eyes suddenly locked back on to Eloise, "…What is she to you?" There was careful suspicion in her voice, firm but not hostile.

 
"…Ishani… Rhiannon…"

The utterance of her mother’s names pushed Eloise into the red. Her expression became livid, pale face turning crimson. But the flush of her cheeks and the tension in her raised shoulders was not just from anger. It was from the shame that comes with the exposure of a deep dark secret.

Her voice was low, even, and quiet when next she spoke. “I expect to be judged by my own merits, not by who I happen to be related to.

"…What is she to you?"

My mother.” Her green eyes were narrowed. “Now, if you’re done interrogating me, I have work to do.

She started to walk past Amani, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

Amani Serys Amani Serys
 
Eloise's flash of anger was clear. But it was also subdued by shame. She didn't last out at the Jedi Knight, but tried to remove herself as quickly as possible. Amani froze for a beat, then recomposed herself, "Wait," She reached out a hand to rest on the girl's shoulder, but stopped herself. Her voice was softer now, sympathetic.

"I'm not judging you, Eloise. It's just… I have history with your mother." Amani pursed her lips, uncertain of how much to say right here and now. She stepped in front of Eloise, "Will you please talk with me? I won't stop you if you say no," She glanced down the hall, even letting the faintest hint of a smile touch the corner of her mouth, "But as a member of the Council, my authority technically supersedes Master Chanticleer's. Meditation can wait."

 

Eloise stopped again and turned around, her expression defiant even if her body obeyed orders.

"I'm not judging you, Eloise. It's just… I have history with your mother."

No chit, Eloise thought. But she said nothing, waiting for Amani to stop beating around the bush.

"Will you please talk with me? I won't stop you if you say no."

"Why do you want to talk to me?" the padawan asked point-blank. "Just because you have 'history with my mother'? That doesn't mean anything to me." Except as a vulnerability which others could use to torment her, of course. "All this feels like is that you're trying to make a big deal out of it. Maybe if you'd take a moment to think about why the daughter of two Sith might be attending the fething Jedi Academy—"

 
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"That is what I am trying to ask."

"... you'd understand why I don't want to talk about my mother or my father or anything to do with my family!"

The rest of her sentence was shouted after Amani's interruption. A few people passing by turned to stare at them. Eloise was breathing hard, her heartbeat elevated.

Probably in her mind Amani thought she was just showing concern for a troubled padawan. But that wasn't how it felt to Eloise. This woman, who had pulled authority over her and was now demanding information about her personal life, was a complete stranger. What right did she have to know these things? Who did she think she was, that she would dare to speak like this to... to...

A goddess? a voice in the back of her mind hissed. No. She was just some random padawan now.

A random padawan who just showed up one day without any explanation and has been hiding her past ever since she arrived. A padawan whom Amani knows is the daughter of two Sith. Why shouldn't she ask questions? She'd have to be an idiot to not be at least a little suspicious. And so far Eloise had done nothing to assuage those suspicions. If anything, Amani was probably even more leery of her now that she had refused to speak and had reacted with defensive anger upon being questioned.

"What are you doing here? How did you get away from them? Why?"

Eloise seemed to deflate. When next she spoke, it was in a very subdued, almost weary tone. “I took a shuttle here. I didn’t tell them where I was going. They don't know where I am, and even if they did they wouldn't chase me. My parents always told us we could be whoever we wanted to be. That hasn’t changed.

 
Amani froze, lost for words when Eloise's reaction reached a fever pitch. She was just trying to help, wasn't she? But it had come off the heels of suspicion. And her execution was… intense. The padawan didn't deserve to be accosted by someone who was, to her, a stranger. Amani pursed her lips, silencing herself until Eloise gave a genuine response.

"…Okay," She finally said in a soft voice, "…Okay." If they were going to get anywhere, Amani needed to show Eloise a bit of trust. It wasn't surprising to believe that Rhiannon simply wouldn't care that her child was off being a Jedi. But she had only known the woman for a brief time, and even Sith could be complex in their ideologies. "I believe you. I just… want to make sure you're safe," She waved a hand, as if to dismiss her own justifications, "Look— I'm sorry for acting so… overbearing. You don't know me. It was unprofessional at best." Then, the mirialan extended a hand, "But I'd like to start things over between us, if you'll let me."

 
Amani was suitably startled by Eloise’s outburst. She quickly apologized, and asked if they could start over.

Fine,” Eloise said. “Okay.

The gawkers and bystanders went about their business, leaving the two of them alone. An awkward silence threatened to descend.

Was there… something else you wanted?” Eloise asked. If this entire encounter hinged on Amani recognizing her physical resemblance to her mother and wanting to grill her for an explanation, well, that was that. But some tiny part of Eloise was hoping the Mirialan had a better reason for approaching her. Amani was Chief Healer, did that mean she was looking for volunteers? Had she wanted to discuss her issues with Xertha? Was there some mission she had to go on, an assignment to complete—something that would get her blood flowing and allow her to feel actually useful?

 
Okay. Good. This relationship was salvageable. Amani became more at ease.

Was there… something else you wanted?

Something else she wanted? A lot, actually. But she assumed Eloise wasn't going to take well to another attempt at interrogation without some proper goodwill between them. "That depends," Amani clasped her hands behind her back, "I do have an assignment I'm scheduled to take leave for in a few hours. Have you had a chance to take part in any missions off-world since joining?"

"I'd extend the offer for you to tag along, if it would interest you."


 
"Bothawui." Amani answered, "We're meeting an agent there. He's an Alliance sympathizer who has given us information regarding a growing slave trade through the Mara Corridor." With the Concord no longer around to police the hyperplane, illegal activity was slipping under the radar. "Now, he needs our protection. I have been assigned to escort him back to Alliance space for asylum. We don't expect any retaliation," She raised a palm, "But we can't rule it out."

"Any questions?"


 
One corner of Eloise’s mouth curved up in a half-smile, her fingers idly toying with the string of blood-orange beads hanging around her neck—a prize from one of her parents’ crusades against slavery on Zaathru. Compared to the strangeness which she had experienced since her arrival on Coruscant, the prospect of killing slavers again seemed so familiar, so normal, it was almost comforting.

Not that there was any guarantee she would be allowed to kill them. As Amani had said, they didn’t expect retaliation. Her smile faded.

No questions,” Eloise answered. “Let’s go.

 
In the city of Drev'starn, a mirialan and human duo admittedly stood out amongst the largely Bothan populace. But it was a factor they could work around— After all they weren't the targets. Amani was still hoping that this would be a smooth operation, but in the event that things went south, a pair of Jedi were some of the best bodyguards one could ask for.

Masses milled about the market center; One of many on Bothawui, and a destination for merchants across the galaxy. Towering corporate edifices watched over the space, while speeders zoomed overhead like a well ordered swarm of insects. "We're almost at the place," Amani muttered, barely audible in the crowd. She turned a corner, and there it appeared. A rather innocuous cantina, inside of which was a cosmopolitan host of patrons getting themselves an afternoon lounge (and a few beverages to go with it). Some were locals, others were shipmen and couriers on shore leave.

"Let's find a quiet spot," As quiet as they could get in here, anyway. Amani nodded, before slipping through the crowd in search of a few free seats.

 

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