Private Sinners and Saints

[Tulan Kor]

COMPNOR BLACKSITE 57

I'M SORRY




​

Twenty-three hours to the mark.

Twenty-three hours to the time that Nida Perl was given to Imperial Custody at the hands of a Bounty Hunter. And it was exactly twenty two hours since Tulan Kor was placed as the lead in charge of overseeing her debriefment, and her imprisonment. He chose an offsite location, far from prying eyes, and wandering hands.

In a way, he was merciful for putting her far away. COMPNOR was not known to be kind, much less to Jedi, much less to Sith, and even much less to anyone touched by Carnifex's... hands. Pacing down the hallway, he turned his head as the Corporal beside him handed him the overview.

"She should be awake, Captain."

Tulan turned his head away and scoffed, thumbing through the paper copies of the information given to him. Paper. COMPNOR was that paranoid that most off-site briefings were mechanical in nature, from the locks to the information given. Paper was easy to destroy, easy to transport, and easy to deny authenticity.

If he could frown, he would've. She was being kept in a rather large cell, equipped with plenty of amenities- and at Tulan's request, a private bathroom for her. Bedsheets, private bathroom. It must've not made sense. She must have been so scared. So alone. He felt similarly.

"Thank you, Corporal."

The Corporal took his leave, leaving Tulan outside of Nida's cell. She had not been interviewed, or spoken to beyond people delivering her meals. And since Tulan's arrival, she ate directly from the Officer's mess that he did. Most people thought of his methods and actions as a way to relax her for interrogation, but in reality, Tulan had a darker secret that he did not, and would not share openly:

He cared.

The door opened, and Tulan left the file on the outside of the door. There wasn't anything in that file that he needed to read. He shut it behind him, blue eyes sadly gazing at the floor. There was a desk near the end of the room, which he politely took the seat from.

"Does Thirdas know you've been captured?"

The question he asked revealed a lot about Tulan.

And the most important of them, of course, being that genuinely did care.

​

​

 

[Nida Perl]

When Tulan Kor entered the cell, Nida's head swiveled from the perch on her bed. She'd propped herself up against the wall, thin pillow folded in half and cushioning the soreness of her bandaged shoulder. He'd caught her in a meditative state, but the stoicism had faded from her face at seeing someone so…familiar.

Which was odd, because they'd only met a handful of times. Nida and Tulan barely exchanged more than a few lines over the years, and yet they'd forged a lasting connection through the murder of a senator and the heaviness of war.

She stared at him in horror.

The moment she'd been taken into Imperial custody, Nida shifted into a survivalist mindset. Be reasonably compliant, not combative. Don't volunteer information. Keep to yourself, unless your life hinges on it. The private room was a surprise, though she had little knowledge of how the Imperial prison system worked. Meals weren't bad either. She'd even received basic medical care; her wounds were dressed and she'd been placed on a short course of antibiotics. There was a reason to it all, she knew. No one treated the spawn of Carnifex with decency without having an ulterior motive. Perhaps she was to be a bargaining chip, or maybe they were trying to loosen her guard.

Nida slept as much as she could, anticipating that she'd be yanked screaming from her bed one night and hustled into an Imperial torture chamber. She'd spent the last 23 hours waiting for the other boot to drop.

Out of all the possibilities that could have stepped through that door, Tulan had never been one. His face was, quite literally, a reminder of all she'd done wrong. Her eyes had been lingering over the scars she'd left him with, and now she averted her gaze in shame.

"I don't know." She sounded tired. Part of her didn't want Thirdas to know, didn't want him to worry. She had no idea what the Alliance protocol was for these types of things, whether he'd be informed or not.

Her lips parted again and she hesitated. Nida didn't sense any hostility from Tulan, but caution has been ringing in her ears since she'd been thrown over Sarad's shoulder and carted off into the unknown.

"I didn't expect I'd see you again, Tulan. Not in these circumstances."

 

[Tulan Kor]

COMPNOR BLACKSITE 57

I'M SORRY

Nida Perl


​

"I'll make sure he knows."

He said firstly. He paced around the room, hands resting on his hips. He looked at the wall, before turning back to face Nida.

"I couldn't bring myself to Ilum. I requested a different assignment. I picked this one- I didn't want... anyone else on this." The conflict in his voice was nothing compared to what Nida could naturally feel from him- even without the force helping her.

"They want information from you. I imagine they want to do it in a nasty way. I'll make sure they aren't able to- and no offense, I don't think there's much information you can offer them that they don't already know or will know in time."

​

He took a seat at the desk provided for her, inhaling deeply.

"I'm glad you're doing better, by the way. After all that with your daddy... well. Couldn't imagine trying to walk that road back to the good guys." He stopped, taking a breath. He was one of the good guys too.

Right?

"You and I are going to be at this blacksite until COMPNOR says otherwise. However, wherever you go, I do too- so. How's it been, since... since everything?"

Guilt weighed him down. It was like a heavy blanket in the force draped over the room. He was only able to look at her in spurts- shame made his eyes cast away, away from her- and away from having to face facts of who he was supporting.

 

[Nida Perl]

Nida tilted her head to the side. He'd requested to be here specifically? Still wary, but there was something in his tone that was almost…apologetic? Ashamed? She couldn't quite touch on it, not yet. Even the relief at being under the jurisdiction of a particularly kind captor was muddled beneath her heightened awareness.

He was right, though. She was a fresh face in the Alliance, welcome by some but not wholly trusted. She didn't blame them. Nida nodded along.

"You are correct. I have not earned rank among the Jedi, nor do I believe that The Empire has interest in Coruscant's inventory of syringes and gauze." Despite the quip, there was no humor in her steady tone. No barely perceptible smile. She was trying to figure all of this out, absorbing the new information and synthesizing it against her current predicament.

The best outcome, yet what a mess.

When he referred to Carnifex with a paternal slant, Nida sat straighter, eyes sharpening as if she were back in her brief state of bloodlusted mania against Sars Sarad . It was a great departure from her typically soft features, carrying a severity that Nida was unable to show even as a Sithling.

"That man is not my father."

She spat coldly, then squeezed her eyes shut. A deep inhale that swelled her abdomen followed a slow, controlled exhale. When her lids fluttered open, some of the hardness had drained from her gaze, and she fixed her attention on Tulan with a renewed curiosity. He wasn't looking at her head on, which made shame simmer in her belly.

"I see." Nida didn't doubt that he'd try to protect her, but she also didn't know how high his rank was. How deep his influence ran. If someone above him wanted her tortured or executed, would he be able to prevent that?

"Slow." She answered honestly, finding the question uncomfortable yet necessary. "Things have been slow. After being released from Sunspot, I was on parole and under the watch of more senior Jedi in the Outer Rim. Only recently was I accepted into the New Jedi Order on a trial basis—Ilum had been my first proper foray into the galaxy in a long time."

Clearing her throat, she added awkwardly; "Thirdas and I are engaged."

She let that factoid hang awkwardly in the air, thoughts all filtering towards an uncomfortable apology.

"…I am sorry for what I did to you. I have no excuse."

Now it was her turn to break eye contact due to guilt, but she managed to steal another glance at the scars trawling his face. Scars she had given him.

"I know that this may sound insincere, but—believe me, I did not know if we'd meet again. Especially not under these…new circumstances."

Part of her wanted to be petty, to ask him if he was happy. To weaponize her own guilt and compound upon the shame he was clearly feeling. She couldn't do that, but she also struggled to move the conversation forward without doing it.

"I did not expect any of that. Ilum, I mean. Perhaps those who are more well informed than I did."

Tulan Kor

 

[Tulan Kor]

COMPNOR BLACKSITE 57

WASTELAND

Nida Perl

​

"Don't apologize. You're doing better. That's enough for me."


He sounded genuine. He saved her life that day- the forgiveness of a saint, in a sinner. Tulan was a complicated man, and his relationship with Nida was even more complicated. He smiled briefly when she mentioned Thirdas. Good kid. Good girl. They deserved each other.

"Who cares who your dad is? He's your father but he ain't you. Guys got plenty of kids, doesn't mean shit that he's your dad. He's a piece of shit, you're not."

He shrugged matter-of-factly, dismissing her worries about her father rather uncaringly. Tulan knew all about bad fathers. He didn't need to judge her for what he did.

He grew silent about Ilum.

"Like I said. I just read the reports. It wasn't good."

Conflict was brewing in him, like a stormy sea.

"How did he ask you?"

 

[Nida Perl]

Nida squinted at the ceiling. It wasn't that she couldn't remember how Thirdas had proposed—how could she ever forget?—she was simply gathering her emotions. They felt so out of place here. Here, in the grasp of the enemy, it appeared that she had a friend.

"We were on Anvil. It was after he'd given a speech—I had just returned. I found out he'd purchased the rings a while ago. He'd saved them all this time."

A whisp of a smile creased her mouth.

"We knew that things could not go back to being the same as they were. So, we resolved to build a new future moving forward. Together."

Her neck tilted back down, bringing her gaze eye level to Tulan.

"I think he'd like to meet with you again. However, given the circumstances…" Her voiced drifted uncomfortably. "Do you know anything about the bounty hunter who captured me? I was aware that the Empire went after Sith, but I did not realize that all Force users were fair game."

Her lips remained barely parted in thought.

"Unless, Jedi have become the new target."

Tulan Kor

 

[Tulan Kor]

COMPNOR BLACKSITE 57

CONFLICT WITHIN

Nida Perl
​

"You'll get back to him. Just a matter of time."

He clasped his hands, leaning forward. He knew for a fact there were no cameras, microphones or bugs in the room.

"I didn't think after Duros we'd see each other again- much less talk like we are now." He turned his head towards her. "Whatever guilt you've been carrying about me, I want you to drop it. For your sake more than mine. You're not a bad person. You're like me. We've both done bad stuff. Stuff we regret. But that's life, kid."

He stood up, sitting at the edge of her bed, closer to her.

"Nobody's told me yet. Don't know if they wanted you specifically, or Jedi in general. From what it seems, you-" He turned his head towards her again. "Were the target." He took a deep sigh.

"You know. I used to like the Empire. Cut the red tape, go after the Sith. No politics- nothing like that. Kill the Sith, save the galaxy, stand up for the little guy. Give people job. Feed the machine, you know. Every person's a cog. But now-" Guilt ridden hands rubbed them together, before he leaned forward, taking a deep breath, shaking his head while his head fell towards his lap.

"I ever tell you how I came to the Alliance, first?"

 

[Nida Perl]

A sad smile pulled at the edges of Nida's mouth. Guilt didn't work like that- at least not her own. Forgiving herself seemed like an insurmountable task. She wore guilt and shame like a comfortable blanket wrapped around her person, which hindered her growth as a person.

It helped that Tulan bore no ill will against her.

"I will try."

Her eyes followed Tulan as he seated himself at the corner of her bed, out of little more than instinct. He wasn't the type to lash out suddenly with a hand around her throat—he wasn't Carnifex. And unless he'd learned to manipulate the Force during his time with the Imperials, she sensed no cruel intentions.

"But now-"

"…things changed." She finished softly, somberly. The Imperials had an uneasy alliance with the powerhouses of the core, finding a common enemy in the Sith. But the Sith were still around, so why did the Empire now bare it's fangs at an ally?

"You didn't. I'd like to hear about it, Tulan.”

Tulan Kor

 

[Tulan Kor]

COMPNOR BLACKSITE 57

Fond Memories

Nida Perl
​

He took a deep breath, before speaking.

"I was actually a uh.. Commando in the One Sith. With your dad, actually. Wasn't my direct commander, but, you know. Up the chain, there. I had a wife, too. She was a signals officer, we met when I was on a ship there. But she- she believed, you know. Made me really dive into it." Another deep breath, guilt rising in him.

"Did a lot of bad things. Made me start questioning everything, the Sith, the Empire we were making, what it meant to create peace and stability." He blinked a few times, before looking over at Nida.

"And one day- my team was tasked with eliminating rebels. Back of the head, mass graves. I stood there behind my team, ready to do it. And I killed them. Men I served with for years. Killed two Sith Marauders, too. Buried in the same ditch they dug for the rebels."

He pursed his lip before speaking again.

"Got picked up by the Alliance. Spent about a year in their prison, before I offered to serve my time in the military and provide my expertise. From there, Setter Ryburn picked me up... and that was that. You know the rest, with Amon and everyone."

His deep, long pauses and breaths were about as much emotion as he could afford to show on his messed-up face.

"Now I'm here. Wondering the same thing I felt back then."

 

[Nida Perl]

Nida listened carefully, head tilted barely to one side. She searched for Tulan's eyes a few times, unafraid to meet his gaze yet gave him the space he needed, if he needed it.

It wasn't a particularly long story—she was sure he'd glossed over some of the gorier details—but there was an austere depth to the life of Tulan Kor. From one military industrial complex to another, fighting for the greater good. Peace. Stability. Not glory or power. The tides of galactic power were constantly shifting.

"None of that sounded easy." She conceded with a gentle nod. "You've been through this enough to know when things are beginning to seem wrong. Our mind tends to notice things around us that don't translate into plain thought or understanding - what we're left with is a gut feeling."

Nida reclined, the back of her head pressing against the cool duracrete of the wall.

"I never knew that you had a wife, Tulan. What happened to her?"

Tulan Kor

 

[Tulan Kor]

COMPNOR BLACKSITE 57

Look upon me, and despair

Nida Perl
​

He was silent as the grave for a long while.

"She left me when I left the Sith. Said she couldn't be with a traitor. Haven't spoken to her since the collapse of the One Sith. I'm not even sure if she's alive." Another long silence.

"That love died when I left. I wasn't the same person she fell in love with. And she wasn't the same person I could love anymore." That was simply that. No grand fairytale ending. No love left on the books. Just a broken man, scars, and heartache.

He didn't want to answer her question about a gut feeling and right and wrong.