Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Not the Most Conventional Pair


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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


Tough love had never quite worked for Gatz Derrevar. He chalked that up to his sensitive heart... and the years of "tough love" he'd endured on Nar Shaddaa. It was funny, how beatings seemed preferable to harsh words. But once the hurt and shame had faded, Gatz had finally come to see the lesson behind the dressing down Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble and Allyson Locke Allyson Locke had given him: wallowing in pity and misery wouldn't change his lot in life.

They hadn't been trying to chase him out of the Order. They were trying to make him see that if he couldn't believe in himself, then there was no point in staying. If he couldn't believe in his own inherent goodness—in his own ability to become a Jedi—then seeking help would ultimately be fruitless, and a waste of everybody's time. He did understand that, now.

That being said, Gatz didn't think he was welcome at the Jedi Temple, or the Noble household any longer. That stung, to know that he had basically just lost the closest thing he'd ever had to a sister... but he'd lost a lot more than that this past year. He loved the Nobles, but not so much that he couldn't go on without them. It hurt, but it didn't hurt worse than saying goodbye to his mother for the last time, or watching his uncle be gunned down.

Losing friends wasn't a pain that he wanted to bear... but it was one that he could.

As far as Gatz knew, the only place in the galaxy that he was still welcome at was the Vonnuvi Enclave. In a way, that was fine. He preferred the Enclave to the Temple on Coruscant anyhow, and it was here that Gatz felt he had made the most progress—not a lot, but some. This was the one place in the galaxy where he could actually find a semblance of peace. Being on The Vonnuvi didn't magically fix his problems: he was still behind in almost every conceivable way when it came to his training, and he still didn't know how to handle his struggles with learning. But this was where he was most likely to figure out how to handle those difficulties.

It was also the one place in all the galaxy where he could achieve proper meditation, and that was exactly what he was attempting: sitting in the courtyard on a spot of grass, trying to clear his mind in order to divine the answer to his struggles—entirely unaware that the answer was actually a woman he was all too familiar with, and that she was about to happen upon him.
 
After spending nearly half an hour looking for him around the campus of the Vonnuvi Enclave, Inanna found Gatz in the most obvious of places: the courtyard. She must’ve crossed the grass a dozen times without noticing him. Proof that expectations could blind one to reality, she supposed.

Pausing to take a deep breath and calm her nerves, she walked over the manicured lawn to where he sat. The Masters had given her an apprentice almost immediately upon her knighthood. She didn’t resent it, but it was a little overwhelming. Her new assignment had come with a large file that had Gatz’s name on it; she’d perused its contents only a little, and was stunned by what she found.

An examination conducted by Master Serys-Organa had found signs of a possible learning disability and a slightly lower than average midi-chlorian count. Treatment had been recommended, but Gatz never followed up on it. He had received citations for outbursts of disruptive anger, and seemed to be constantly on the verge of giving up and leaving the Order, sometimes leaving and then coming back. Many of the people who had originally set out to help him felt that he wouldn’t allow himself to be helped. Frustration permeated the commentary from his teachers and peers, which was full of complaints about his poor attitude. Another Padawan had even gone so far as to suggest that Gatz may have been suffering from an undiagnosed mental illness such as bipolar disorder, leading to mood swings and a lowered drive to succeed.

None of this sounded remotely like the man she had met during dissections. Then again, first impressions weren’t always reflective of a person’s true character. Inanna had closed the file and set it aside, wishing that she hadn’t read any of it. She would’ve preferred to go in with an open mind. But at least she’d been given fair warning of what she was potentially getting herself into.

Gatz seemed to be meditating, or trying to. Inanna came to a halt in front of him. “Hey,” she gave him a friendly greeting. “Gatz. Remember me?

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


In his own defense, he was doing his best. He was always doing his best. But most days, that didn't seem to be enough. The expectations were always greater than he could achieve: the curriculum more difficult than he could grasp, the assignment more complicated than he could understand, and the result more underwhelming than anyone desired. It happened again and again, repeating itself like a scratched record.

How could he not be frustrated with his lack of progress? How could he not be angry with himself? All he wanted to do was help people. Valery had made him believe that he could, and then he'd come back to the Order and all he'd managed to do was fail.

During his first tenure with the Order, the Order had failed him. Now, during his second try, he was failing the Order and everyone around him.

How many chances could a man be granted? Even if he was giving it his all, even if he was trying to make the most of them, how many could he be allowed before someone finally decided that he wasn't worth the effort? Did it matter that he was trying his best when he still wasn't getting anywhere? At what point would everyone give up on him?

He was already so close to giving up on himself. That was the worst part of Kahlil and Allyson's lesson: that he could understand it, but fail to put it in practice. If he didn't truly believe he could succeed, then he was destined to fail. But how could he believe in his ability to succeed, when failing was all he could seem to do?

Gatz blew out a frustrated breath. Meditation would grant no answers, it seemed. So be it: he hadn't expected his problems to just magically fix themselves because he'd come back to The Vonnuvi.

Someone stepped into view and greeted him. Gatz blinked for a moment, the bright colors of the courtyard stunning eyes that had just spent the last hour seeing nothing but pitch black. But when they finally adjusted, he saw the familiar face of Inanna looking down on him.

"Oh, hey!" Gatz chirped back, his lack of decorum clear proof that he was unaware that he was speaking to his own master, "it's good to see you again—without spice or Sithspawn bringing us together. And I hear congratulations are in order?"

 
Inanna smiled and nodded. “Yeah, thanks. I still don’t quite believe I’m a Knight yet. Only took me over a hundred years to get there.” Any shyness about revealing her age wasn’t enough to keep her from making jokes about how long the journey had been. Inanna Harth, slowest Padawan learner in galactic history.

How have you been?” she asked. “I heard you got assigned a new master.

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


Yeah, thanks. I still don’t quite believe I’m a Knight yet. Only took me over a hundred years to get there.

"Well, at the rate I'm progressing, I just might kick you off the podium," Gatz snorted, because what good was there in struggling if he couldn't make a joke about it here or there? "Granted, you have a certain biological advantage that I don't, so I might croak before I break that record."

Bad humor aside, there was something reassuring about hearing how long it had taken Inanna to be knighted. If she could come back to the Order after all that time, and still become a Jedi Knight, then maybe there was hope for him yet. A century was a much longer sabbatical than a decade and a half, after all.

"Wait a minute, I've been assigned a what now?"

Gatz blinked. Inanna had to have misheard. If he'd been assigned a master, he'd have known. He might have been a complete mess of a Padawan, but he paid attention to his assignments and any missives sent to his—

Unless the missive had been sent to the Temple on Coruscant, which had been his primary residence until only a few days ago.

"Well, I missed that." Gatz pinched the bridge of his nose, "...if you'll excuse me Inanna, I think I need to go contact the Temple on Coruscant. There's a Jedi out there who probably thinks their new Padawan is dodging his responsibilities, and I owe them an explanation."

Ugh, what a terrible way to make a first impression. He'd come back to the Enclave to recenter himself, and figure out how to approach his studies—only for it to turn out that he'd been running away from the Master who was supposed to help him with that.

 
"Wait a minute, I've been assigned a what now?"

A master,” she repeated in confirmation. “Lucky you.

But Gatz didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about it, apparently assuming that a mistake had been made. Inanna couldn’t help but grin in amusement, getting a kick out of it.

Uh, no—pretty sure she’s right here,” she said, resting her fists upon her ample hips. “She wouldn’t set foot on Coruscant unless she absolutely had to. Bad experience, you see...

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


Lucky you.

"Poor them. I'm a terrible student."

Gatz wasn't sure what to feel. Part of him was elated, because having a Master meant that he finally had someone who had the time to invest in him. Finally had someone to help him beyond classroom lessons and vague offerings of guidance in spare moments. But the other part was so afraid of having yet another person in his life to let down. Because in the end, that seemed to be was best at: disappointing the people closest to him.

Then came the real kicker: the whole reason Inanna had mentioned it—probably the whole reason she'd sought him out—was because she was the new master in question.

"Uh, wuh?" Gatz blinked again, shock having robbed him of his knowledge of Galactic Basic.

But as the gears in his mind began to turn once more, Gatz started to see the wisdom in the Order's decision: Inanna had left the Order, as he had. She had returned later in life, as he had. She had struggled as an adult Padawan, as he was now. She was unorthodox as far as Jedi went, as he was. Hell, she'd even lived on Nar Shaddaa like he had.

Inanna knew as little about him as he knew about her. But for all that lack of knowledge, she understood. Gatz had often struggled with the lack of having a master. It had made him wonder if he wasn't good enough for one; if the Order knew he wasn't worth the effort. Now though, he thought he finally understood: an ordinary master wouldn't have suited him, nor he them.

He needed someone like Inanna, who understood his struggles. Who had lived his circumstances. Who could actually be an effective teacher to him.

Of course, instead elaborating to his new master that he understood the wisdom behind the council pairing them together, he opted for something stupid.

"Uhh... Do I keep calling you Inanna, or is it Master Harth now?"

 
"Poor them. I'm a terrible student."

Eh, you don’t seem too bad.

It took him a minute, but Gatz eventually figured it out. Inanna could practically see the wheels spinning in his head.

"Uhh... Do I keep calling you Inanna, or is it Master Harth now?"

She laughed at that. “Whichever you want, I don’t really care. But yes, I’ve been assigned to you.” A touch of nervousness entered her tone. “I’ve obviously never done this before, so try to bear with me. Have you decided what type of Jedi you want to be yet?

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


A chance. That's what this was. An opportunity given to him by the Order, but it was his responsibility to make the most of it; to make the most of himself. Even if it was within his power to decline, he wouldn't have. Maybe he still didn't know what he was doing, and maybe Inanna didn't either, but for the first time in two months Gatz had hope.

He wasn't lost yet. Inanna was here, ready and willing to take him under her wing. He might just be a Jedi yet.

I’ve obviously never done this before, so try to bear with me. Have you decided what type of Jedi you want to be yet?

It was funny: her admission should have made him nervous, or wary. But much like with finding out how long it took her to become Knighted, hearing her own uncertainty made him more comfortable with the prospect—and it made him feel less alone.

"I came here to learn how to heal," Gatz admitted easily, "I... I hurt enough people, during my time on Nar Shaddaa. I know I can't spend the rest of my life avoiding conflict, not in a galaxy as dark as ours, but I didn't come back to the Order just so I could keep putting people in the morgue. I came back to learn how to be better."

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


And Inanna had trained as a healer, much like Gatz was attempting (albeit failing) to do. It wasn't often that Gatz gave the Council credit—he was far too wary about organizations and groups of people who thought they knew better than everyone else—but even he couldn't deny their genius: Inanna was perfectly suited to forging him into a proper Jedi. At least, it probably looked that way on paper.

In practice? Time would tell, but for once, Gatz had a good feeling about his future.

"Er, where are you at in your studies currently?"

"I know enough about medicine that I can fill the role of a field medic," Gatz took some small amount of pride in that, "and I handle a lightsaber pretty well. I have a good grasp on telekinesis. It's, you know, literally everything else that I struggle with. Especially with Force Healing. Most days, I'm lucky if I can close a papercut."

It was hard, most days, not to feel like everything was hopeless. When the only thing he excelled at was whacking people with an oversized glowstick—and that was the thing he was least interested in learning—it made him doubt that he could even be a Jedi.

But not today. He wouldn't let it drag him down today, not now that things were finally looking up for him.

 
"I know enough about medicine that I can fill the role of a field medic, and I handle a lightsaber pretty well. I have a good grasp on telekinesis. It's, you know, literally everything else that I struggle with."

Same,” Inanna murmured. “I’m considered a telekinesis savant, and I got really into lightwhips, but everything else is far more difficult for me. Healing included. But, I kept at it until I got good.” Having the support of her Jedi husband and friends also helped.

But okay, it sounds like you've got the basics down. I guess we could start going on missions... Oh, and even though you’re my apprentice now, you should still attend classes. Especially courses in medicine, since you’re going to be a Healer.” She scratched her head, wondering how to ask about his alleged learning disability without it coming across the wrong way. Given that she was also kind of a dumbass who had done poorly in school and disappointed her parents, she knew it could be a sensitive subject. “Do you, uh… need any extra help when it comes to your studies?

 
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yY25iSp.png
Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


Gatz was only moderately ashamed of the way his imagination ran wild at the thought of Inanna with a whip. Apparently he hadn't completely killed the scoundrel just yet. But that was something to work on over time—no man changed in a single day, no matter how much Gatz wished that was possible.

Still, Gatz had absorbed enough Jedi discipline to be able to dismiss errant fantasies like that. Considering the debauched life he'd lived as a smuggler, he considered that progress. Somehow, he thought most others would disagree with that assessment.

Inanna explained that he should still attend classes, which Gatz had expected would be the case.

"Sure. I figured as much. It's better to learn from many sources."

Although how much he was truly learning was up for debate. And, judging by Inanna's next question, she had already been made aware with the way he struggled. For a moment, Gatz considered pretending that everything was fine—an idea motivated by shame. He hadn't even told Valery about how he was struggling with his curriculum. But how was Inanna supposed to help him if he didn't tell her that he needed that help.

"I, uh," Gatz struggled to find the words, to adequately describe his shortcomings, "I'm... book dumb. I mean, I can read just fine, but it's like I can't retain the information. I'll spend hours with my nose buried in a textbook and learn nothing. Or worse: manage to answer one question, only to come up with five more."

Admitting it was freeing in a way, but it also came with a sharp sting. No one liked feeling stupid... but that was all he'd felt for the last two months.

 
It sounded like he might have ADHD. Or ADD. Or whichever. Inanna wasn’t an expert, but it was a common enough disability that she had at least heard of it. “If it’s stopping you from learning, it sounds like you need to find a way around it somehow. I admit I’m not really sure how to go about it—I know there are counselors and specialists here that you could talk to. You may need to find different ways to study, or take a course that offers alternative learning methods.

In fact, maybe that was where they should start, solving the current problems before they jumped into the rest. “We can drop by now and see if anyone’s in, if you don’t mind.

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


He'd known this topic was coming. Gatz had even discussed it with Master Amani Serys Amani Serys once, but... pride, shame, and ego had stopped him from taking the steps required to address his issues. He'd hoped that if he doubled down and just worked harder, that he could bludgeon his way through his problems. But one month later, and things hadn't changed at all. If anything, he'd begun to slide backwards, not forwards.

"You don't have to—I can—" Gatz stopped himself and took a long breath, "...if you could point where in the Enclave those resources are, I'll go first thing in the morning. I'm an adult. You don't have to hold my hand while I'm at the doctor's office."

Gatz managed a small laugh at his own dumb joke, but it was clear that talking about it made him uncomfortable and uncertain. He recognized that it shouldn't have: half the point of even having a Master was being able to come to them with issues that needed solving. But for a man who had been on his own since he was seventeen...

It was hard to ask for help. He felt like he was lesser for needing it.

"But if you want to start bringing me on assignments, there is something else I really need help with: I... never learned how to construct a lightsaber. And seeing as you told me that your husband is sort of the expert on it, I figure that's something you could probably help me with?"

Every time he so much as set foot into a dangerous situation, he got hurt. Literally every time. And that had always been because he didn't have the tools to defend himself: first, because Valery was dragging him into danger when he had little to no training, and now because he didn't have a weapon to properly defend himself.

 
Inanna gave him a shrug and a placating smile. “As you wish.” As long as he didn’t go on beating himself against a brick wall with his studies, she saw no reason to push the matter.

She felt a little embarrassed at having made the offer, now that she could see it from Gatz’s perspective. Was she treating him like a child, even subconsciously? Though she herself had been an older student, the picture in her mind whenever she thought of a Padawan was of a youth fresh from the youngling crèche, not an adult. She’d have to be more mindful of how she acted with him. Save the mothering for the kids.

"But if you want to start bringing me on assignments, there is something else I really need help with: I... never learned how to construct a lightsaber. And seeing as you told me that your husband is sort of the expert on it, I figure that's something you could probably help me with?"

Oh!” she exclaimed, eyebrows rising in excitement. “Yeah, we could do that. Cato should be in the workshop right now.” She turned and headed off in the direction of the hangars, expecting Gatz to follow her.

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth


The idea of actually following up on that, of seeing a specialist to finally be... diagnosed... it frightened him. There was more than just ego and pride at play here, Gatz realized. There was a genuine fear in him: as if learning what was wrong with him would somehow make him lesser. He shouldn't have felt like that, he knew. There was a very real chance this course would help him... and yet, it was frightening all the same.

Yeah, we could do that. Cato should be in the workshop right now.

He perked up at that.

There was much weight, much craving attached to such a little thing of light. A Jedi was not their lightsaber, and in fact, any weapon only achieved worth in how it was wielded. For a Jedi, true worth only came from never wielding it at all. And yet the idea excited him anyways. So when Inanna spun on her heel for the hangar, Gatz was quick to follow.

There was one small problem though...

"Uh, I should probably add: I don't have a crystal. I left the Order before my gathering."

 
The Enclave workshop was effectively a room within a room, nestled in the corner of the temple's private hangar. Long windows along the wall overlooked the occasional coming and going of ships, and on the other side one could see Cato (and his droid) was currently the shop's only occupant. He had just finished a lesson, and was now using the peace and quiet to work on a personal project. He had protective goggles over his eyes, and a blowtorch in his hand. Beside him, the BD droid Expy was watching curiously.

"One sec!" He said as the doors opened. Eventually the sparks stopped, and he moved his goggles onto his forehead, "Hey," Cato grinned, wiping a gloved hand across his cheek, failing to remove an oily stain. He approached, wrapping an arm around Inanna's shoulder and kissing her in greeting. The kiss was perhaps just a twinge too indulgent, given they were in public company, but Cato was a rather shameless man in general, "Ah- How's it going? What can I help you with?" He asked, extending a hand to Gatz but looking between the both of them for an explanation.

 
"Uh, I should probably add: I don't have a crystal. I left the Order before my gathering."

That’s okay,” Inanna said as the door to the workshops slid open before her. “We have artificial crystals you can use for the time being.

She could feel an industrial heat as soon as she stepped inside. It was pleasant for her, but less so for Humans. Cato was running a blowtorch; Inanna waited patiently for him to finish, trying to sneak a peek at what he was working on. He stopped and turned to face her, grinning.


Hey zaddy,” she said, wiggling her hips and shoulders to a comical degree as she practically skipped over to him. Might as well match him goofiness for goofiness—it would leave an impression, at least. He pulled her into a kiss, which she returned with equally indulgent fervor. “Oh, this is my new apprentice, Gatz Derrevar. He needs to build a lightsaber.

 

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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:

Tag: Inanna Harth Inanna Harth Cato Harth Cato Harth


Ugh. They reminded him of his parents—when they'd still been alive.

Gatz politely turned away from their moment, and pretended not to hear his Master call someone "zaddy." Public displays of affection made him feel awkward enough, but pet names? He couldn't fathom the idea of being so comfortable with someone that he'd let them call him something so... shameless. What ever happened to people having standards—

Holy shit, he was starting to sound like Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania . When the hell had he become a prude?

Gatz risked craning his head back to the two, just in time to see Cato extending a hand to him. He gave the man a firm handshake—he could practically hear his father lecturing him no how a man's worth could be judged by how he shook another man's hand—and let Inanna explain his particular situation.

"It's good to finally meet you," a scoundrel he may have been, but he'd still been raised with manners, "your wife has, unfortunately, been saddled with me as her first Padawan. One who never got around to learning how to construct a lightsaber."

 

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