Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Reborn




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D I S C H A R G E
Voph stood still for a moment, looking around the small room. He had been told it was his, and yet it brought no memories to him. The quarters of the Lord Commander were a large and fancy affair, but he had given them up in favor of something smaller. More modest. Perhaps it was because Roon was, for all intents, a minor outpost for the Knights Obsidian? He couldn't remember his reasoning. Either way, it was a moot point. The walls were hollow and bleak, echoing the feeling that settled in Voph's very soul. The Knights had seen fit to release him to seek his own path. But that did beg the all important question. Where should he start?

Naboo. Naboo was the grand center of the Confederacy. If he was going to re-learn who he was, he would start there. And so, he packed his meager belongings and turned to leave the small room. There was a weapon the Knights claimed belonged to him, but Voph elected not to take it. It did not feel right. The lightsaber felt...wrong in his hands. Like it was made for someone else. He would build a new one, in time. But for now, he was in Confederate Space. He was safe. He had no need of such barbaric tools. Truth be told, Voph felt as though he was stealing away in the night. Lord Mataan had certainly displayed some degree of familiarity, and a willingness to help. He felt the slightest bit guilty by leaving without saying goodbye. But she had more important things to tend to. She was an Obsidian Lord. The safety and security of their nation fell on her shoulders. Voph could not possibly be more important than that. And if she had deemed him to be? That was a fight Voph did not feel like having.

And so, Voph gained passage on a small passenger frigate bound for Naboo. It was a civilian transport, so speed was hardly of essence. Three days flight towards the capital. He bartered his way aboard, offering to work aboard the ship in return for passage to Naboo. But no sooner had he boarded the ship before he was called to the captain's quarters. Voph strode in and stopped just within the door, eyes locked upon the captain. The man straightened from the console he was hunched over and turned as Voph entered. "Gentlemen, there's food in the galley. Best to depart on full stomachs." Voph watched quietly as the men and women of the bridge crew stood and departed without another word, leaving the two men in silence. Voph turned his attention back to the captain before him, who waited until the door had slid shut to speak. "My lord. You've changed, but I'd recognize you anywhere. Word is you're supposed to be dead. But clearly you're not." Voph opened his mouth, but was silenced by an upraised hand. "If I may finish, sir, I would like to make one thing abundantly clear. I never knew you as well as the powers on high, but I know you well enough to know that you don't want attention drawn to yourself. Am I correct?" Voph considered for a moment, then silently nodded once, not entirely sure what was going on.

"In that case, we'll not speak any further. Understand that your fare has been paid in full, you've been granted the best cabin on the ship, and I won't take no for an answer. Dismissed." Voph opened his mouth to object, but the captain fixed him with a look. One that suggested he'd be thrown off the ship before he could even utter his first word. So instead he simply offered a short bow, offered a hushed word of thanks, and turned to leave for the common areas of the ship. Soon, they were underway. Voph was walking down an exterior hallway when the jump to lightspeed was announced. He paused just long enough to listen to the announcement, then stepped forward into the next room. A passenger cabin. It was sparsely populated, yet all available seats were taken. Voph stood still for a moment, surveying the area. He then reached above him to take hold of a pipe in the rafters. He was no stranger to hyperspace jumps. He had no need to sit.

The remainder of the trip was quiet. Uneventful. Voph spent most of it meditating on his talk with the captain. What had he done to deserve the treatment he'd been given? Was he really worthy of such a gesture? To these people, he was a nobody. And yet clearly, he'd served along side the captain of the vessel before. The man felt he owed Voph a favor. Was he really worth that level of recognition? As the ship neared Naboo orbit, he pushed such thoughts from his mind. It was time to look to the future. He'd return to the Knights Obsidian, eventually. His medical leave stated that he was to be on light duty of any sort for the next fortnight. He would return thereafter. He didn't like it. He felt fine, but doctor's orders were doctor's orders. And he didn't have the authority to override them. All in time. He'd find a way to make himself useful to the Confederacy. It was the least he could do to make up for consuming so much of the Exarch's free time on Roon. Voph disembarked slinging the small shoulder pack across his back, his light tunic blowing in the breeze. He stood in the midst of the Theed spaceport looking around. The vibrant colors, as he'd come to understand them, gave him pause. It was a beauty he'd not seen before. If it were up to him, he could stand here for hours, simply watching the world move by and drinking in the beauty that was his surroundings...






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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“Repeat.”

“Our patient left several hours ago. He was given clearance. This…This was left behind.”, the dutiful Knight Obsidian did well not to stutter before a woman who seemed to be increasingly annoyed by the fact that they were sharing the same air. The lightsaber that he held out toward her snapped from his fingers with a cold rush of air that made him take a step back. It found her hand in an instant. “He has left the grounds without it. If the reports ring true; he left the system.”

Silver eyes focused on him in such a way that it made him feel as if there was a rock stuck in his throat. Maybe there was. He could always feel slender fingers wrapping around his throat, carotid compressing, while his larynx screamed and his hyoid fractured. Suddenly, he could breathe. It was only his imagination. The cold woman hadn’t moved from her position near the window. Her gaze had turned toward the lightsaber she now held. Her thoughts were veiled, a mystery.

“Hours ago.”

An endlessly pointed stare sent made him wish he hadn’t said anything at all. There was something about the Exarch that left him feeling wrong. As looking at her, was wrong. She was too bright, too dark, and there were moments when it was almost painful to hold her gaze. Such intensity was like…Nothing he had ever seen in any of his superiors. If looks could kill—He would undoubtedly be dead.

“Fuel and supply the Ferocity. I will take a small complement of Knights and my Magnaguard.”

Kyyrk Kyyrk had fled like an adventurous youngling in the night. He had a heavy lead.

It mattered not.

Her ship was faster—She would find him, plot trajectory, and beat him there.

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Oh, how she loathed Naboo. It lacked the blistering and damning heat of Geonosis that made her feel like living. There was nothing for her on this blessed rock. Full of smiling faces, greenery, and measured contentment. The idyllic world had been at peace for quite some time. The relocation of the Confederate Capital had been poorly received at first. Thoughts of occupation of old came to mind. With clumsy battle-droids littering the streets, firing weapons, and storming the palace in Theed.

Thousands of them, decayed and rusting out on the Great Grass Plains while nature still claimed what had been left. Srina had poured over the battle. Followed the tactics. She came up short. The strategy of the Gungans had been short-sighted, reckless, and yet victorious. The anthology of the fierce Queen Amidala had always left her with more questions than answers. She led, as one did, but she did so from every angle seemingly effortlessly. A Queen turned Senator, a fighter, turned lover.

A mother that never saw her children. They had that in common.

One of the few things she had never mastered in all her time among the Presidium and her fellows was a firm grasp on expected attire. Srina rarely chose for herself. Especially, not while in public on Naboo. She had beaten the commercial vessel that Voph had chosen with plenty of time to spare. Once the course was pooted—She knew where he would go.

Alone. Without a proper weapon.

Without the Force.

Without her.

She felt him before she saw him in the busy spaceport. There were throngs of citizens passing by of all shapes and sizes. She kept her Force Signature low to keep from attracting unwanted attention and made her way toward the much taller man with relative ease. Gone were drab colors that the Exarch had worn on Roon. The iconic hexagonal pattern that the galaxy knew, and accepted, belonged to the confederacy. Instead, she wore a soft blue wrap in the shade of the colors of Clan Talon. A piece of home. A painful reminder—But she wore it with head held high. White hair had been twisted into rivers of braided coils that flowed over her shoulder. Within the skirts of her dress were two lightsabers, a credit purse, and a few other trinkets.

At least she could move in it, easily, and there were many pockets. She would not hive to split the skirts to fight. There was already a rather high slit that would perform that purpose. Srina stopped in the side of Kyyrk Kyyrk that wasn’t holding his bag and slipped her hand into his without explanation. The wintry woman did not stop him from viewing the scenery, nor, did she query as to why he had left.

“I cleared you from medical restrictions and granted you leave of Roon.”

A breathy statement that was devoid of all things. Only barely, would it be heard over the crowd.

“I did not dismiss you from me.”
 



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N A B O O
Voph did not turn to look at Srina as she approached. Some instinctive part of him still relied upon the Force to monitor his surroundings. He knew she was there. He drew a breath, and sighed quietly. Why had she chased him? Why had she not just let him leave? His thoughts lapsed back into the ambiance of the terminal, and seeking to soak it all in. A slight frown crept into his features. "You are busy. You've an entire nation to tend to. I did not wish to bother you more than I already have."

Voph remembered Srina as a friend, to be sure. But he still didn't know if she considered him the same. Or even if she had, would she now? Then? He was a man of legend. Undefeated in the fields of battle. A worthy ally, and a useful pawn. Then? He could understand why she would seek him out. But here? Now? She needed him for something. Something that Voph could not fathom at this moment. He stirred to life after a moment, turning to look at the wintered woman beside him. "What is it you need of me, Exarch?"






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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“Do not presume to know my schedule, nor, how I allocate my time.”

Her words were cold.

The soft breeze that pulled through the spaceport carried the unmistakable scent of millaflower. It was plentiful in this area and the young woman could feel the calming effects pulling at the stern tension that always existed in her bones. She never allowed herself to relax. No matter appearances, no matter the activity, she was always ready for the worst. Srina had learned many a lesson over the years.

Lowering her guard was nigh impossible.

Still, small fingers linked loosely around his. When it came to an Echani it would ever be action that spoke louder than words. No matter how harsh she seemed, brutal as fierce winter, there was something to be said for how she looked after those that were important. Srina could not allow Voph to wander around freely, without protection, and with his abilities reduced to…Nothing. His question caused a soft breath of air to fall from primrose lips while silver eyes flickered toward the outline of his frame.

If she didn’t look too hard; he almost, didn’t look so different. “Must I require something?”

Srina Talon had everything she required and then some. Ships and veritable armies that would rise and fall in her name. On her word, with only her long-winded opening speech to carry them through the darkest hours while she fell into place beside them. Once the fighting broke out? She was one of them. No more, no less. “Could it be that perhaps…”

“You need something from me?”
 



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N A B O O
Voph's hand flexed, his fingers opening for a split second. It was almost as if he was recoiling from Srina's grip. But not as a conscious effort. No, this was something instinctive. His hand relaxed almost immediately after, but he still did not return the gesture. He didn't think it right. Voph's frowned deepened at the woman's suggestion. That he needed her. "No." His reply was so quick and curt, it almost sounded as if he had expected her to make such an offer. "No, I would not wish to be a burden to you."

Voph drew another breath, and looked back across the sea of people. He fell silent for a moment. "No, you've more important things to tend to than I. I can make my own way." He furrowed his brow slightly, before finally saying, "And yet I have a small voice in the back of my head that says arguing with you is a wasted effort." He turned to look back at Srina. "Perhaps we had best find some place to speak besides the middle of a spaceport?"






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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The slight bit of tension he exuded when slender digits wrapped around his was not missed. She forgot, for a moment. He was Voph and yet—He was not. He would not recall her propensity to speak without words, nor, would he recall that her species preferred utilizing body language to communicate. He would not know her worry. Concern, that she could not express.

Her hand fell away.

Silver eyes stared straight ahead when he denied her assistance, though, he kept talking. She might have reminded him that she hadn’t given him the choice as to whether or not he was a burden. That it was for her to decide. Not him. However, he came to the correct assessment on his own. “The little voice in your head is wise.”, she responded, deadpan, while her arms came to cross over her chest. "Is it Horace?"

It was a cold attempt at humor. She would know if his promised familiar was present. Likely, so would he.

Naboo was always bustling, full to the brim, with what she assumed to be life. The bazaar on Geonosis had only been half as full as the spaceport. Even on the busiest day of the year. When he suggested that they speak elsewhere she nodded her head slowly. Perhaps, he was right. “Are you hungry?”, she asked, carefully, hedging the wording. That was what people did, right? When someone came back from the dead? They saw to their needs, assured them, all would be well.

Too many people she knew had died. Too many, came back.

Too many came back changed.

“There is a hovercar waiting.”

It was a long, sleek, automated vehicle, that bore the hexagonal logo of the Confederacy of Independent Systems on the plates. It would allow them to park where they pleased. Take them anywhere they chose to go. She began to move forward and expected the much taller man to follow. Running, was useless. Resistance was futile. If he couldn’t escape her through several systems, he certainly wouldn’t be able to lose her in a spaceport.
 



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N A B O O
For a moment, Voph considered putting his skill to the test, if only to prove a point. Srina had proven more determined than he expected, that was for sure. But he wagered his odds at a fifty-fifty chance he could elude her in the spaceport. If only for the sport of it. Voph fell in step beside the woman as she walked away, though his head was on a swivel, piercing violet eyes searching the crowd. For what? Exits. Hazards. Enemies. His training was coming back to him in waves. He wasn't safe nor secure out here in the open. And while he had only contemplated evading Srina as jest, that did not change his instinct to make himself as invisible as possible. A trapped spy was a dead spy.

You were no spy. The voice inside his head was harsh. Quick to point out his faults. Slow to praise his triumphs. But it spoke the truth. Didn't it? Voph indeed had not been a spy. He didn't remember what he'd been. But spy wasn't it. Now that Srina mentioned it, Voph was hungry. Very. Yet this hunger delved deeper than food. Deeper than material desires, or desires of the flesh. Deep within him there was a gnawing hunger for knowledge. He had known much. Too much. It had burdened him. And yet he desired it once again.

As the two individuals climbed into the hovercar, Voph spoke. "In truth, I think it a memory, more than a thought." He turned to face Srina, taking a moment to absorb the sight of her. How the world truly saw her. This idea of sight was a new one to him. But with it, he understood a great many things better than he ever had before. "They are there...if inaccessible." Voph fell silent for a moment as he turned to look at the scenery passing by outside. He was weak. There was no one he could trust. No one he SHOULD trust. It was kill or be killed in this world. Voph shouldn't admit any weakness. Any fault.

"When you said your name. On Roon... Something happened. My mind was filled with an image. A moment in time." His head turned back to look at Srina. "There was an explosion. We were buried in the rubble." Voph fell silent, his mood growing more disturbed. "We have fought alongside each other before, have we not?"






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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While Kyyrk Kyyrk seemed to keep glancing at the entrances and exits the young woman at his side let her peripherals absorb the data. He took stock. She had no need to. This was Naboo. It was certainly possible that the capital of their nation could be attacked as it had been in the past, however, the spaceport was intensely secure. “You are quite safe.”, the Exarch intoned, quietly, and with no small amount of certainty. Was danger a possibility? Yes.

Would she let him come to harm?

No.

That was the very reason she had chased him across the Southern Systems. He was not himself. He was safer at her side, out in the open, than he had been during the entirety of the flight between Roon and Naboo. The trip to the shining hovercar was uneventful. It wasn’t until she reached for the buckle that she tightened across her lap that he chose to respond. He mentioned a memory. She frowned.

His memories were speaking to him?

“We still don’t know what happened to you.”

It was strange to realize that he was looking at her. That he could actually see her. She had grown so used to his light of sight combined with enhanced awareness that it never occurred to her that he had never truly seen her before his flaming fall from the sky. Not as one human might view another. What did she appear to be in his assessment? Hideous? A strange, gangly thing?

It didn’t seem to matter. Even covered in soot and a tattered flight suit, in the bottom of a crater, he knew her. Recognized her, on some level. Srina remained silent while she signaled the robotic driver and punched in a set of coordinates. They would both need sustenance before the sun went down. When he made his query about an image in his mind, she froze, and silver eyes drifted back toward his face.

Her stare would be unnerving while her guard began to rise of its own volition. Ghosts flickered in mercurial orbs and her jaw set itself tightly. Her shoulders squared, as if, it would somehow protect her from the phantom sensations his words drew. It was poison in a wound that would never heal.

“We have.”

Many times. Throughout many wars, even if, they weren’t side by side. They had fought beneath the same stars. For the same purpose. For people that would likely never know the taste of coppery blood and ash in their mouths. They spared them, that.

A pale hand slowly rose, this time, waiting for him to take it. “If your memories are inaccessible, perhaps, we just need to fit the lock with the proper key. If you want to see the truth of the image you saw on Roon…I can show you.”
 



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N A B O O
Voph held the woman's gaze for a moment, quickly processing all the information she had just given him. Her initial reaction had been surprise. That much was clear. She hadn't expected him to remember anything, much less the explosion. But the surprise quickly melted away to hostility. Not at him directly. That much his instinct told him. The explosion touched a nerve. The expressions were subtle, but the anger was not. The Exarch was wounded by the event. Voph had seen enough shell shock to know that it had not affected her mind. She was angry that someone had attempted to kill her. No, there was too much pain in the gestures. The wound was not physical. Nor was it based entirely in anger.

That explosion had taken something, or someone, from her.

Voph's gaze fell to the offered hand. He could take it, and she would show him the truth of what had happened that day. He considered it for the briefest of moments, then turned his gaze back out the window. "I've seen that look too many times. I won't make you relive that memory. Some things are best left buried in the past." He drew a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. "What is worse...I do not even feel that was...MY memory. It must have been, but..." Voph looked at the center console in between the front seats, not quite having the nerve to look the Exarch in the eye. "Exarch, I appreciate what you have done for me. But I cannot shake the feeling that the man you considered your friend did not return from the void. I inhabit his body, yes. But am I really the same person that ventured into the unknown those years ago?"

The doubts were consuming his mind. He couldn't even hold a lightsaber, the one tool for which he'd been known, without being consumed by nightmares. Did he even WANT to be the tormented soul that had existed before? Could he face those demons again? He looked Srina in the eye and said, "Can I ever be the same man I was?" There was something else creeping in to his voice. Something nearly as alien as his appearance. Fear. "Can I ever live up to the expectation that would be placed upon the man I used to be?"






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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He held her gaze and she stared back. Unflinching.

The man that she knew was already aware of how Kuat had changed her. He had seen her hide behind a mask while her face healed. He had watched her take that pain, bury it, and turn it into a weapon so fierce that it drove her enemies away out of sheer fear. A will to live. She would not provide that. There was an ache in her soul that would never heal. Not now—Not ever.

“How do you know you’ve seen that look too many times in the past?”

She had little doubt that he did, but there were times when his memories peeked through. When mannerisms that she knew well pressed through the fog of the man he had become. “…I live this memory every day. Every moment. There is no peace, no rest, and there never will be. I’ve simply learned to…”

“Endure.”


Her hand fell back to her lap. He continued to speak and she listened. Her expression remained distant and her tense posture gradually faded and lessened. He looked away and she followed his response with a careful glance. Rarely, had Voph reacted to her that way. Perhaps it was because he couldn’t actually see her to do it. “It is your memory.”

The affirmation was delivered in such a way that it seemed to be irrefutable. It was true that he couldn’t recall his past, however, it was still his past. “We are the sum of our parts. Even if you can’t recall the man you were before…You are him. He is you.”

She drew in a deep breath while she settled to organize her thoughts. If she placed herself in the predicament of having no memory with extremely large shoes to fill—She could understand that feeling of panic. Of being adrift in a vast ocean without the smallest bit of land in sight. His worries, his fears, were logical. Reasonable. “Settle, my friend.”, she spoke lightly, almost soothing, before reaching for his arm deliberately. A memory would burst into his vision. Not one of death.

Of snow. Of toasty bonfires and laughter in the background. Melted sweets, warm hearts, and safe haven. He would be able to smell the scent of fresh-baked bread and hearty stew that had been slow-cooked for hours by Nabooian artisans. Hot caf, chocolate, and serenity. A pair of hands hiding eyes that couldn’t see. An almost playful question of “Guess Who?” would echo before pulling away so that he could spin around to face her. Wrapped in a fur cloak, hiding a secret gift.

A joke. An almost smile.

She pulled away.

“Not every memory is full of terrible weight. I can feel you. I know who you are—Even if you’ve forgotten. Whether or not you fully regain those memories is irrelevant. It’s very possible that you might not be able to return to being who you were, however, you can be someone new. That person, I think, will be my friend too. I don’t expect anything more from you than you have to give. You are safe, with me. Past, present, and future.”

She would like to think that if the same thing happened to her, if she lost her way, that he would provide the same haven. He might have appeared different but he still felt the same. The Force did not lie. She wouldn’t be the only one to notice it, either. Friends and enemies. “You have enemies. I will show you how to walk in this world. How to protect yourself—Because I refuse to leave you to the wolves…But your life is your own.”

“I encourage you to live it how you see fit.”
 



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N A B O O
Voph did not resist Srina's attempt to share the memory with him, if only because he knew that resistance was futile. The memory of that snowy night on this very planet flooded his mind, bringing with it the faintest hint of a smile. Life Day. His Birthday. A happy time across the galaxy. But in amidst it, there was a small sliver of dark worming its way into his soul. The despair. The agony. The failure. Thousands dead, and the galaxy held him responsible. What was he going to do? Voph withdrew his hand from Srina's, severing the connection.

His mood had darkened somewhat, of that he was sure. Srina spoke of who he had been, of who he had the potential to become. All Voph could think of was the image of that god of death he'd seen upon donning the mask. "I am unsurprised that I would have made enemies. I will learn what you have to teach, if only because I feel you do not truly offer a choice. I think the days of war are behind me... I cannot bring myself to lift another blade. Save, perhaps, to defend my own life..."






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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“Accept the good with the bad. No one, nothing, is perfect. I am not. Neither were you.”

She could feel the shift in him. The small mote of something that touched upon a fond memory before it dissipated. Ruined, by something she couldn’t see. She remained quiet once more while he digested what she had to say. He seemed to shut down in the same way she had. Closing himself off. No matter how she tried to reassure him, or help, she wondered if she was truly the best equipped to do so.

Perhaps, not.

But she wanted to. The words that fell from him caused the vast ache in her soul to spread. She had never had the compulsion that he displayed now. “Eshan raised me to be a warrior. To be prepared. Even before I found the Force, I fought the Thyrsians, the Collective, and occasionally my own people on my homeworld. You have lived a very, very long time, and I only a fraction of that. There’s no surprise or shock to be had to realize that you’ve made an enemy or two along the way. It was not a matter of if—Simply when. I cannot claim to know everything, nor, do I know what the future will bring…”

“But I do know that more we have; the more we have to lose. What will you do when an enemy holds a blade to the throat of a loved one? Will you allow it?”


The hovercar stopped and Srina reached to remove the belt that secured her. “You may leave your things.”, she spoke lightly, not realizing, nor caring that she hadn’t told him where they were going. She slid from the seat and beckoned with small fingers that he follow. Ahead stood a restaurant that seemed neither low nor high class. It was hard to see what it was, really. She led him inside and the atmosphere seemed rather relaxed. Flowering plants with soft waterfalls and low tables that required the guests to sit on pillows on the floor. They served a variety of local dishes.

Srina enjoyed the flowering tea.

“No.”, she uttered, once settling down onto the pillow. Even the way she sat down seemed unearthly. Like a lotus flower folding in on itself at the end of the season. “I do not offer you a choice—I offer you reality. I will never force you to use your blade but I will have you know how.”

War was never gone. Never. No matter how hard he wished it to be so.

“Once you have learned, satisfactorily, if you choose to take leave of my presence, I will not stop you. I do not intend to keep you caged. I know what lies beyond these borders. Beyond our stars…”, she trailed off, silver eyes turning down, toward a carefully handwritten menu. Her shoulders seemed to tense again, but she immediately loosened. He couldn’t know.

He couldn’t remember.

“And I won’t let it kill you again.
 



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N A B O O
Voph followed the wintered woman without comment. He took a seat at the table, slowly lowering his large frame to the floor. He glanced at the menu, trying to decide if he were even hungry at this exact moment. He was mulling over what Srina had said to him, and so only vaguely heard what she said as she inspected the menu herself. He paused, however, when she said she would not let it kill him again. Voph was filled with two memories, one coming to him in a haze. Foreign, and barely his own. Of being struck down by the plague on Atrisia, coming to the defense of the doctor who would make it right. She didn't have time to get out of the way. And neither did he. He had died so that a planet may live. The other memory, however, he felt as though he always knew. "Death, I do not fear."

He didn't speak with bravado. He simply stated the truth. The idea that his time was finite was one that he had come to terms with. When it was his time, he would graciously go into the arms of the maker. Voph also didn't speak of the time before. To anyone. He would refer to the great war from which he was born, but only ever as a lesson. He did not speak of what he did in those times. Ever.

So to hear the words coming from his mouth now was sure to be a chilling experience indeed.

"In the final days, there were whispers on the wind. Whispers much akin to those surrounding the Cataclysm. And for some reason...I knew my time had come." Voph put the menu down on the table as the waiter came by. He ordered quietly when it was his time, and waited until the two were alone again before he continued. "There was something out there. Something dark and terrible. It had infected me, of both mind and body. My very connection to the Force, always in flux. A corruption the likes of which even terrified the Sith had taken hold of my body. I was of no more use. But I had to make sure that I could never slip so far as to become a threat." Voph looked at Srina, and pulled the neck of his tunic down slowly to reveal a twisted knot of scar tissue in his chest, right above his heart. "Every time I close my eyes, I remember her scream. The scream of a woman watching her love struck down before her very eyes. I see the glow of the blade as it pierced my breast. A nightmare eternal. The cause of many a sleepless night. So much so that I cannot even remember the sweet embrace of sleep."

Voph bowed his head for a moment, then looked back at Srina. "I do not fear death, nor shall I allow you to fear it on my behalf. I fear forcing someone to do the impossible. The corruption would have spread. It would have consumed more than just me. It had to be stopped. But no one would listen. And so it fell to him." Voph looked back at Srina. "I swore to myself I would never father another child. For should the worst come to pass once again, I trust my friends to have the strength to do what they must. But never again will I risk asking my child to do the unthinkable."

The look in Voph's eye was long distant by now, consumed by the memory. One of the most potent he had relived since his return. And yet, in saying the words, suddenly it did not seem as dire as it once had. Slowly slipping back into reality, Voph glanced at Srina, then ducked his head to avoid her gaze. "I am sorry...I should not have shared that memory. Some things are best kept to one's self..."






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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She tucked small legs beside her in such a way that she could both sit comfortably and maintain proper decorum. Her back remained straight while ivory hair gleamed in the pale lighting. The server was exceedingly soft-spoken and discreet. He stayed neither too long, nor too short, and instantly seemed to sense that the topic of discussion at the table required him to make himself scarce.

Srina closed the menu for a moment when he suddenly felt as if he had traveled a million miles away. He grew distant. His statement was cryptic. Primrose lips pressed into a thin line but she held her tongue while Kyyrk Kyyrk continued to weave a story about his past. A memory, she assumed, that came to him in the moment. It was a story she had never heard.

Then again—Bandying about painful histories had never been a treasured pastime.

The mystery was broken, briefly, when orders were placed but Voph fell right back into the pattern as if he had never stopped. The scars he exposed had apparently stayed with him through the transition from the Nether to Realspace. What had the power to keep his wounds, but, genetically alter him to the point that his DNA showed a splice? He spoke of sleepless nights and her eyes drifted softly down to the table cloth that was patterned with small millaflower.

It was only when he mentioned what he would and wouldn’t allow her to do that her gaze returned to features that were both foreign and familiar. No one allowed her to do anything. Past or present the former Lord Commander would find this abundantly clear. The mention of a child, however, caused mercurial eyes to still. The pieces slid into place.

He apologized.

Srina didn’t respond for a long moment as her eyes simply lingered. Silence could speak far more than words, and in her case, the case of a child of the moon, silence was everything. A thousand words. A thousand heartbeats. A thousand moments in which there was no purer sense of what she needed to say. Of what she felt. Still, most wouldn’t understand.

The waiter brought their drinks. Then, scurried off.

Her gaze turned down toward the clear teapot that held a slowly blooming flower. It was a sweet tea that she found soothing. Now, she was uncertain if it would be enough. “You needn’t apologize.”

“Not to me.”


She reached out and picked up the teapot gingerly to pour a small cup. It was desperately hot but she didn’t seem to notice. “I cannot compare pain, nor dire memories, but the damaged parts of who you were or who you are do not frighten or offend me. The weight of it…It can be less if there are more hands to hold it. I can’t change it. But, I am here.”

He could wish that she would him go. Wish, that she might let him perish at the whim of the wild stars.

He would wish all day, every day, for a thousand years.

That wouldn’t make it come true.
 



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Voph mused on the words of the Exarch for a moment, before laughing at the folly of it. "Rather difficult to bare one's soul when you can't even remember what is there to reveal, hmm?" Though he laughed, there was little mirth in the gesture. Suddenly Voph found himself consumed by the desire to find some alcohol. A lot of it. He sighed quietly, eyes turning to survey their surroundings. He needed to change the subject. He'd dwelt on these matters for long enough for one day.

"I do not know that I have ever been to this place before." His gaze wandered around the small tea shop, or at least that is what he presumed it to be. "Not that I have been to many places. In the old days I was expected at many a high society gala or event, but here?" Voph's attention turned back to Srina. "I never allowed myself the time. Even when I was named Lord Vizier, or Lord Commander, I let my work consume my life. Especially once I realized how futile the prospect of companionship was." Voph smiled ruefully as he recalled the brief relationship he'd had with that runaway First Order medic. In spite of all their time together and the kiss that they had once shared, it was clear to Voph that they were never meant to be. Simply the catalyst for healing old wounds. "What few people I did value enough, well..." He gestured to Srina, suggesting that she would empathize greatly with his next statement. "Not exactly an overflowing social calendar."

The statement was not meant to be accusatory. No, far from it. They had both been busy people, Srina presumably still was. And while Voph had taken the steps to maintain a healthy relationship with her and Exarch Locke, even if the relationship with Locke was one born out of a close business partnership, he respected the workload that the trio had upon their respective plates, and was not pushy about making time for each other. Their few moments of fellowship happened organically. "I was always content to remain in my office, or whatever closet I called a living space that week. Food was eaten for the sole purpose of survival, no matter how bland or flavorful it may have been."

Voph's eyes narrowed slightly. "I wonder if perhaps the old war had a more profound effect on me than I realized. Have we published any studies about the addictive properties of MREs?" The attempt at humor was weak, but it was there. Perhaps shockingly so. Voph had never taken the time for jokes in the past. Aside from a snarky quip here, or a smart-ass remark there, most of which seemed born of vitriol moreso than humor. Whatever changes his ejection from the Void had wrought, the effects were far more profound than it originally seemed...






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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“For now.”, she mused, lightly, with no small measure of certainty. He had been regaining memories faster than she had expected. Deep, memories. The kind that one hid from the light of day and hoped that they remained lost with antiquity. She could only surmise that his experiences would return to him from his previous life in their own time, unless, they managed to speed up the process.

Fast or slow—Arrive, his past would.

He changed the subject. She allowed it. There was likely only so much death and destruction he could endure before it felt like reality had begun to fray. She couldn’t imagine reliving her own experiences as a blank slate. She also felt an irrational streak of jealousy. Strange, it was for an unknown and impossible version of herself. The fact that she wouldn’t remember the bad, but also, because Maliphant would make it his duty to charm her again. Her, but not her.

It was a paradox that she quickly dismissed.

“I’m not sure it was here when you were last present.”

This new version of her friend had a lot of interesting, though, skewed opinions. She was no stranger to allowing work to consume her. Especially, when they were at war. But it was the little moments that made the toil and trouble worth every brutal, bloody, and unforgivable act. Connections. Something to ground them when the dust settled and the battle was done. “An overflowing social calendar is overrated.”

But, Srina did her best to let those who mattered know. It might be in small ways. Innocuous things that they didn’t always see. She merely tried in her own way. Her ability to recognize all social cues was still fairly awful, though, she was far more adept when she was comfortable with the individual speaking. To that end, she picked up the joke. It caused a singular eyebrow to lift while she brought her teacup to her lips to take a sip. Blowing first, she paused. “That—Is a dad joke.”

Her attempt at humor in return.

It would have gone better were it not delivered in the same chilled tones that she always held. Cultured and polite, but, with a hint of menace just beneath the surface. Srina had ordered a variety of sashimi, local to Naboo, but she didn’t know if Voph would also enjoy it. “You should take a moment, then. The food here is more than acceptable.”

“And reasonably priced.”


High praise from the no-nonsense Exarch.
 



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Voph snorted quietly, taking another look at the menu. "For all the good that will do me." He looked over the menu in silence for a moment, then set the menu on the table, muttering something about reading being rather difficult while he fished in his belt for something. He knew how to read, of course. It had been a long and arduous process with his...limitations. But he'd learned how to do it. But now, with a form of sight he didn't fully comprehend, it was another matter entirely.

Voph held up a palm, counting through the credit chits in his hand. He counted quickly, curling his fist shut in an effort to keep his finances private from Srina. He also discreetly looked at the cheaper end of the menu. He didn't have many credits left to his name. And he wasn't about to ask Srina to pay his bill. in the end, Voph wasn't sure what exactly he ordered, only that it was seafood and local to Naboo. He guessed. He paused, as a realization dawned on him. Even without the food, he didn't have enough to rent a decent room for the night. Ah well. That shouldn't be a concern at this time of year, the weather was typically moderate. Unless a storm rolled through.

Voph thought back to the ship's arrival on Naboo. On the journey, he'd befriended a young woman and her infant. Refugees from the Bryn'adul threat. So focused had she been on making it to safety that she'd not thought to pack any money, or anything of value to bargain with. The only thing she had was a precious gem in the necklace her late husband had given her. Voph had given her most of the money he had left, and insisted that the next time they crossed paths, he expected to see her wearing it.

Didn't matter that it didn't leave enough for himself. He could manage.

"I'll need to arrange for lodging while I'm here. Find some means of supporting myself till I'm cleared for duty." Voph didn't speak in more detail. Somehow he suspected that Srina knew of his medical orders just as well as he did. "Then I suppose I can see about re-instating myself with the Knights Obsidian. Learn whatever lessons you have for me on the side." Voph looked at Srina, awaiting her response, and deep down dreading whatever charity she would attempt to press upon him...






 

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N A B O O
Tag: Kyyrk Kyyrk
Dressed in: Blue


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Some things about Voph had changed. Some. Other things, such as, the ability to exhibit defensive “satire” or “snark” had not. The pale-skinned woman had grown just enough in regards to social settings that she was able to recognize it with a muted shake of her head. White waves of hair seemed to glimmer in the light, but stilled, when she uttered one word. “Patience.”

If she had realized that he was counting funds whilst reading the menu the Echani would have stopped him. How could she expect someone that had recently been liberated from the Netherworld to be able to make their way flawlessly into reality. Just getting acclimated to being able to see was difficult enough. When he spoke, silvery eyes lifted, and settled on his face. “I figured as much.”

“Which is one of the reasons I wish you would have spoken to me before running away on Roon.”


It took her a moment to realize that he had ordered rather lightly for a man his size. She would never ask about his finances because he would never see the bill. Her accounts were on file and they knew the Exarch well. She visited nearly every Sunday, often, with a guest. Even if only for the blooming tea and some sort of gelatin filled with fruit. “…You also seem to be impaired. Listen to your doctors. You must eat sufficiently and rest accordingly or your recovery will be an uphill climb.”

A small motion of her hand caused the waiter to return and she ordered a few more things. Items that she knew Darth Metus Darth Metus liked—And perhaps, so would Voph.

“Your lodging has already been arranged and I have given much thought to your state of employment.”

It was a delicate dance. He seemed to have the potential skill of the man he had been but without the wherewithal to implement it. Which meant, he needed structure. To be close and yet not so near that her constant penetrating gazes drove him off. He had never liked to be treated like a youngling. She knew that well enough. It boiled down to many things, issues, but mostly his swiss cheese memories.

Something in his gut initially told him to trust her.

Now? In the light of day—Did he still?

“I am in need of an assistant. Someone I can trust. You would have my backing in your endeavors and ample time for your own designs. It is not charity, but a chance for you to get your bearings and find a way forward. It will let you see the galaxy as it is.”

It would let her prepare him for what would come.

He was not the same. His enemies were. Though he did not recall them—They knew him. If she could sense him in the Force it was very likely they would too. “I would suggest one thing at a time. If you want to rejoin the Knights Obsidian one day I certainly won’t stop you.”

Srina was no expert with emotion but she suspected it would take him a moment to realize that he didn’t need to dig up the past to move on. He didn’t need to be who he was. He could be whomever he wished to be, perhaps, who he was meant to be. Let no one tell him otherwise.

The waiter brought out their dishes and the extras she had ordered and she pointed with a pair of long thin wooden sticks. “Eat. I will not be able to finish it myself and I do not waste food.”
 



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Voph was silent for a moment, looking at the food, and contemplating whether to eat or not. In truth, he was not that hungry at the moment. He knew his hesitance would be obvious. But, it would also be clear that he did not hesitate from a sense of...rebellion? Perhaps there was a better word. He wanted to eat. But he did not feel like eating. Too much going on in his life. But he needed to eat. Voph picked up a pair of the wooden sticks, being dwarfed in his hand, and expertly plucked a small portion from the plate in front of him. He gingerly placed it in his mouth, and began chewing.

Perhaps Srina was familiar with the state of mind. Perhaps she wasn't. But either way, Voph was certainly forcing himself to eat, and this was not an exercise he was a stranger to. "An apprentice." Voph's summary of Srina's offer was as direct as it sounded. "You re-train me, I do your bidding." In spite of his unwillingness to eat, Voph seemed to be in a high spirit. All things considered, anyways. "An acceptable trade, I suppose."

Voph's brow furrowed as he looked at Srina. "I will also remind you that my leave was out of an abundance of caution. I will abide by your directive for the sake of avoiding conflict. But I feel fine, all things considered." The medical team hadn't quite known what to do with him. He'd heard the word "Mirith" mentioned a few times. He supposed that was the name they'd officially assigned to the Species that Voph now found himself to be a member of. A completely foreign one, and thus his sentence had been given with a margin of error. They truly had no idea what recovery time to expect from him. "When do we start?"






 

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