Private Refuse to Lose

[Iandre Athlea]

It had taken Iandre longer than she had expected to get everything ready for her Master's surprise. She had been practicing cooking whenever she could and thought she had mastered grilling protein, as well as many other types of food. There had been quite a few failures that the men still managed to eat until tonight.

Getting everything set, she sent a message to her Master to come to the mess hall.

She hadn't made any grand gestures, just made sure there was enough food for everybody, and then shooed them away. They would have the room to themselves. It might be large, but she didn't have a kitchen in her quarters. So she made do with what she did have.

A kitchen large enough to feed the Lilaste Order and a hall that was big enough to hold all of them. Today, though, it would just be the two of them. She wanted to talk to him about training, show off some scars she had picked up, and catch up. They might share the same space, but they didn't see each other nearly often enough.

Setting the table, he should be arriving any minute.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto stepped into the vast mess hall, his clawed feet echoing faintly across the polished floor. The space was normally buzzing with the sounds of hungry soldiers, barked orders, and the clatter of trays but tonight, it was quiet. Peaceful. Almost reverent. He'd received Iandre's message not long ago, a simple request to meet her for dinner. Curious, and truthfully a little overdue, he'd made his way down without delay.

The scent of cooked protein still lingered in the air seasoned well, if his nose was right and the warm lighting made the cavernous space feel just a touch smaller, more intimate. The long tables were empty, save for one near the center, carefully set for two. He paused at the entrance, his gaze drifting over the room before settling on her.

It had been far too long since they'd had a quiet moment like this. His duties as High Commander had grown increasingly demanding, and though they shared the same station, their paths often diverged in the chaos of war and responsibility. Still, there was another reason for his distance. A silent hesitation that gnawed at the edges of his mind.

He hadn't wanted to admit it not to her, not to himself but a part of him feared growing too close again. Not after what happened to Jacen. If he let himself hover, if he guided her too closely, would she vanish just the same? The weight of that loss still lived in his chest like an ember that never cooled. So he kept a measured distance. Close enough to guard her path, far enough to let her walk it.

That didn't mean he didn't read every report she submitted the moment it crossed his desk. More than once, he had pushed aside higher priority matters just to see how she was doing skimming logs, damage assessments, medical notes. Memorizing every scar she'd earned like they were lines in a sacred script.

And now here she was, standing beside a table she'd set with care. It wasn't a grand gesture, no… but it didn't need to be. Laphisto took a few steps forward, his tone calm and warm as his eyes met hers. "Iandre. I hope I'm not late."

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Setting the last plate down on the table when Laphisto walked in, she looked up as he stepped forward. Shaking her head with a smile, she closed the distance between them and still wore the smile.

"Certainly not. Have a seat. I made sure to have a bench for you so you'll be comfortable and not worry about your tail getting mashed."

Motioning to the table, she turned around and started back that way. She didn't walk with any limp or stiff movement, so her healed broken leg wasn't slowing her down.

"Grilling meat is a lot harder than I expected. The guys have been good sports about it, too. Eating whatever was put in front of them and without much complaint."

Letting out a breath of amusement, she waited until he had sat down and poured both of them some water.

"I didn't think of having anything stronger to drink. Maybe I should have."

Shrugging her shoulders, she took the seat on the other side of the table. Tipping her head at the food display, there were several different kinds of meat set out for them.

"How goes the commanding of things, and how are you?"

Emphasizing the last part, Iandre really wanted to know how he was doing.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

He lowered himself onto the bench with a faint creak of wood beneath his weight, leaning forward slightly as he drew in a slow breath. The scent of the grilled meat was rich, savory, and well-seasoned enough to pull a low rumble of approval from deep in his chest. Without hesitation, he reached out, talons curling carefully around a few slices of meat, lifting them to his plate while his gaze briefly flicked to Iandre. He listened as she spoke, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, amused smile.

"Water is just fine," he rumbled, his voice deep but warm. "And thank youfor cooking for everyone, not just me. It's not every day the men get food this good. You'd be surprised how much a proper meal does for morale, especially with what's on the horizon."

He paused, chewing slowly, savoring the taste as if committing it to memory. The act was almost meditative, his thoughts wandering unbidden to another time. The memory crept in his first year after being freed from carbonite. The mess hall aboard the Conquest's Agenda, filled with noise and life. The laughter of his last apprentice, sharp and bright, cutting through the ever-present hum of duty and war. For a brief moment, his expression darkened, the weight of it pressing across his features.

He pushed the memory aside and turned his focus back to her, catching the emphasis in her question. "It's… adequate," he admitted after a long, measured breath. "Commanding takes more of my time than I care to admit. Far too much of it, some days." For a moment, he seemed as if he might leave it there but then his gaze softened, and he leaned back slightly, claws idly drumming against the table as if grounding himself.

"I am sorry," he said at last, his voice quieter now. "I know I've been distant. And I could claim it's because of my duties as High Commander, but that wouldn't be the full truth." His eyes met hers, steady and unflinching. "The arena… what happened there… I'm still coming to terms with it. With what it made me confront in myself."

He shifted slightly, the faint glow of the mess hall light catching his eyes. Once, they had been a striking blue-green now, they were something far stranger. His left eye, blue, was circled by a thin, almost imperceptible ring of red, while the green of his right bore a ring of gold, the lingering marks of what he had done. The remnants of the gods he had absorbed both their souls and their power burned there like echoes.

He let the silence sit for a moment, heavy but not uncomfortable, before his voice came again, softer still. "I don't want to make the same mistake I made before… with Jacen. I kept my distance because I thought it would protect you, but perhaps… I've only been holding both of us at arm's length." His gaze lingered on her, the faintest trace of a wry smile tugging at his lips, though there was a raw honesty in it this time. "But… I'm here now."

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

"I've tried cooking a few times. This is just the best I've been able to do. Call me your resident pit master!"

Wearing a large grin, she pointed a thumb at herself and gave Laphisto a wink in humor.

"Be glad you weren't around for the failures. It all got eaten, though, and luckily nobody got sick. The taste was just gross and not something any of us wanted to try again. What's on the horizon, master?"

Sitting in a chair, she leaned forward to pick her selection of meat for her plate. Their wake-up calls were different but no less shocking for either of them. Iandre only had a small idea of what her master had done. Another reason for them to talk more is that he had so much to teach her and help guide her path.

Gazing across at him as she chewed, she gave him the time he needed. Whether it was to gather his words or just think, she didn't know. However, she was patient with him and didn't press him to hurry. From the first part of his answer, she gathered he was more or less just getting by day to day. Nothing special, and she appreciated that. As he continued, he began to share more of the information she wanted.

"I watched the fight after it was over. I left during it because I couldn't pick a side to root for...no, that's not it. I couldn't watch two of my friends fighting. I had a good conversation with Tarain, and that led to this."

Pointing to the grilled foods in front of them, she stabbed at her next bite with the fork she was using.

"Keeping your distance isn't the best course of action. I've fought a Sith, broken my leg, and fallen in love. You're here now and don't try to get away so easily again. Besides, you're my master and I have many things to learn.

"What did you learn about yourself with the internal confrontation?"

Two of the three things had been included in reports to him. The last had not.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he listened to her talk about the food. When she asked about him and what was on the horizon, he leaned back slightly before replying:

"Well, right now I'm in the process of reviewing and resending the design schematics for the Diarchy's new naval forcesat Diarch Rellik 's request. We've finalized the exterior hull designs, so the overall ship architecture is set. What we still need are the internal subsystems: propulsion arrays, energy reactors, shielding generators, weapons integration essential components that will allow these vessels to stand toe‑to‑toe with the Sith Armada. Given everything I've read about their… particular bag of tricks, we're pushing for cutting‑edge defense modules to counter things like stealth field jammers, void‑warp disruptors, and high‑intensity ion arrays. It's a delicate balancing act between firepower, agility, and survivability. Hopefully, with the right internal systems installed, these ships will match the Armada's strength and then some."

He spoke for a few moments, delving into doctrinal design philosophy and weapon specs. He discussed the possibility of integrating these new designs into the Lilaste Order's navy or even upgrading their current models. A small chuckle escaped him as he paused, clearing his throat; it was clear this topic piqued his interest. Letting the conversation turn, he paused and listened closely when she mentioned her inability to watch the fight—and how the idea ultimately came from Tarain. His brow rose with an amused smile.

"I understand," he said, voice steady yet thoughtful. "To me, duels are never about picking sides or cheering for one outcome over another. They're an opportunity to learn. You watch the flow of combat, anticipate each strike, and try to read the outcome before it arrives." There was a stillness in the air, not uncomfortable, but respectful. The weight of what she'd shared lingered, and he gestured slowly toward the table, inviting her to continue if she felt comfortable. Behind the professional façade, he was genuinely interested ready to explore the lessons and emotions she'd gathered from that experience.

He paused when her words carried an unintended edge it felt like a gentle rebuke, and it stung more than she probably intended. He realized then he'd been keeping his distance, holding back more than he should have. In that quiet moment, he internally vowed to change that. Just as he was pulled from his thoughts, she dropped the bomb: she had fallen in love. Just as he was pulled from his thoughts, she dropped the bomb: she had fallen in love. The unexpected confession made his brow rise, and a soft chuckle escaped him.

"Attachments are not the Jedi way, Iandre." His tone was teasing, but the question that followed was sincere. He took a bite, letting the flavors settle, then asked gently, "So... who's the lucky one? One of your fellow cadets? That young man who always trails after you... Zorn?" he seemed to purp[osly avoid the question about what he learned from the internal conflict. at least for now

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Even the most polite person might have their eyes glaze over at the extensive statement Laphisto had given. Though if she were honest, she probably would have paid better attention to some of the details. Iandre didn't miss it entirely, but some of the finer descriptions were either overlooked or forgotten immediately. However, she let him speak and did not interrupt him. It was clear that this was something he was interested in. As much as he supported her, she did the same with him.

"Like when we had our first little spar? Learning how each of us moved and fought. Granted, I was still in recovery. We should do that again now that I'm fully recovered."

As she chewed her food, it was apparent that what she said had shocked him. Pointing the deadly fork at him before stabbing her steak again, she let go of it and allowed it to stand upright in the meat. Shaking her head when he pointed out that attachments aren't the Jedi way, she kept quiet as he made some guesses.

"It's a good thing I am no longer a Jedi. I feel that part of me died in the past with my first master."

Clenching her fist, she lightly hit the table a few times with the side of it. While it had been over 900 years for the Galaxy since Order 66 happened. To Iandre, it was barely more than a year ago.


"Zorn? Just because he follows me around like a lost puppy doesn't mean I'm in love with him. No, it isn't him."

Closing her mouth, she looked at her fork and then back at Laphisto,

"It's the Diarch Rellik ."

Letting that drop like a second bomb, Iandre turned her focus to cutting a bite of food off the steak and didn't meet her master's gaze. Was she embarrassed? Not at all. Moreover, she was concerned there might be some form of retribution. No, that wasn't quite it either. What was she afraid of? Maybe it had to do with how she had grown up, and then his comment about attachments. It had been said as a tease, but some piece of the former Jedi might still feel that was how things should be.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto was, admittedly, caught off guard. He was mid-sip when she said it, water going the wrong way; he thumped a fist once against his sternum, coughed, and set the glass down with a quiet clink. One brow rose. His eyes narrowed in that familiar way he wore when he wasn't leaning on his Force-sight to read the room. He wasn't angry; just recalibrating.

" Diarch Rellik ," he said at last, tasting the name like he was testing its weight. A beat stretched. Then his shoulders eased and a small smile cut through the moment. "Of all the people you could have picked, you have a talent for difficult, admirable men."

He leaned back slightly, studying her guarded pride threaded through the look. "He keeps his word. Takes the weight he's given and a little extra I respect that. and I respect him." The smile tilted wry. "Which means I'll be twice as annoying if he ever treats you poorly."

A low chuckle escaped him, and the tension bled from the air. "And for the record, if you two decide to marry, don't expect me to wear the same outfit I wore to Maldor Sancetti 's wedding. That shirt n belongs in a museum." He forked another bite, gave her just enough time to breathe, then continued, warmer. "I'm glad you're growing the way you are, Iandre. It suits you. I couldn't be prouder of the person you are, and of the apprentice you've become."

He let that sit, then spoke more quietly. he could tell his teasing hit a bit harder than he intended it to"About 'attachments'… The Jedi tried to solve pain by outlawing the cause. We don't do that here. Attachment is responsibility. It's choosing to carry someone else's weight and letting them carry some of yours. That can steady you or drag you under depending on how honest you two are and how clear your priorities stay."

His gaze flicked to her hands and back. "You've had a little over a year, to bury a lifetime. That's not long. So hear me: you are allowed to build something new. If Rellik is part of that, then be deliberate. Be honest with him the way you're honest with me. If it ever starts dulling your edge, we address it. If anyone tries to use it against you or him then you make sure that your trust in each other doesnt make either of you sloppy. build a system account for all angl-." he stopped himself and cleared his throat lightly with a shake of his head. there he was strategizing again.

The smile returned, faint but real. "As for your challenge…if i recall our first little spar ended with you stubbornly refusing to yield and me pretending I wasn't impressed. " He nodded toward the corridor. "Finish your steak. Then we clear a mat and see what you've learned. and ill even show you some of the harder tricks iv picked up in my days."

He reached for his plate again, casual as if they hadn't just detonated a conversation grenade between courses. "One last thing," he added, tone even. "Diarch or not, he's a man. You don't need my permission. You do have my support. Keep your blade sharp, your head clear, and your heart honest. it wont be easy. there will be troubles here and there, but its best to always talk things out communication is key.." he was hoping to give as much advise about dating as he could with her. Almost like he was preparing her for a first date when he caught himself and chuckled with a shake of his head and with a pause he pointed his fork towards her with a chuckle " make sure his hands remain to himself"


Iandre Athlea