Slow Fade

[Tydeus of Tion]

Grandmaster's Quarters, Tython

Outside the door to [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s room, Ryan closed his eyes. His fist was raised to knock, frozen in place. Did he really want to know the truth? The defeat at Teta had cost them all, but Ryan personally felt an emptiness at the loss of his Master. Oh, Marcello was not dead, but he had fallen to the Dark Side and for a brief instant fought against the Order. In that moment, the trust between the two friends had frayed. Ryan understood anger at the Council. It was this shared frustration that had first brought Master and Padawan together, but he'd watched that anger consume Marcello. It had turned him into the very evil they sought to destroy. Korr felt a fear creeping in.

Would he be doomed to walk the same path as Marcello? The nagging thought ever harassed the edges of his thoughts. But there was more.

After returning to the shattered square near the western wall he'd discovered a body of a padawan named Rhia Thalasa. She'd been apprenticed to Aaralyn Rekali, another Jedi who'd fallen to the Dark Side at Teta. Rekali and Thalasa had both engaged Marcello after his fall as well as a monstrous Sith by the name of Darth Shara. Ryan had been absorbed in his own duel that day, so he couldn't be sure, but....

He grit his teeth, muscles in his jaw writhing.

Thalasa's throat had been staved in by a Force Choke. Between Darth Shara and Marcello only one of them applied combative usage of telekinesis on that scale. Marcello had returned to the Republic after the invasion, but not to the Order. Yet, Ryan could not help but feel as though he had a duty to bring justice for the fallen.

So here he stood in front of the Grandmaster's chambers, hand reluctantly poised to knock at her door. Yet what gave him pause? Was it that she was one of the Council that he had so long despised? Or perhaps it was her amorous relationship with Marcello? Did she know the loss he felt now, or did she shut out such emotions like so many other Jedi claimed to do? Mayhap simple denial stayed his hand, but no.

He could not live forever with this feeling of dread filling his stomach. He needed to know the truth. And if Kiskla did not know, then.... he let out a heavy sigh and opened stern, grey eyes.

When would he ever be able to pick up all the pieces of his shattered world?

Ryan knocked.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla had pretty much just literally entered the room just a few steps ahead of the knock that now resounded through the office. Of course, in times like this, the Grandmaster's door was always open. Unfortunately for [member="Ryan Korr"]'s knuckles, it was only in the figurative sense.

Behind the ornate doors that had carvings of older epics, the blonde kiffar was sitting and pouring over reports and figures from the liberation attempt of the Empress systems. Both sides had suffered it's fair share of casualties. But Kiskla wasn't a soldier, there was no such thing as a casual death. Some had lost their minds, others their bodies. She'd spoken to some Padawans who had admitted to being almost corrupted immediately following the exodus of Teta -- and boarded them up to one of the purest planets in the galaxy. There, they could search themselves and The Force for their alliegance without propaganda of good nor evil being shoved down their throat. Because now, Kiskla understood some of the propaganda that had been promised. Following the Padawan escapade, she'd finally paid attention to the message of a defected to meet him on Yinchorr. There, former Jedi Master Matteo shared his experience with her, projecting the words and images to her mind so she could see for herself what she was up against.

In knowing this, coupled with the reports, she would be closing her figurative and physical door to none but the council for a few hours. They really needed to address the situation and work on the definition of The Jedi, as well as themselves as the administration of the organization. So, of course as usual, next to the reports, there was a soft chatter from a discombobulated dialect weaving it's way through the audio waves. The holocron of Grandmaster Yoda spoke pleasant, sage advices to the young woman as she overlooked the facts to present.

With a wave of her hand, Yoda silenced and retracted back to the delicate container his knowledge inhabited. Another flick of her wrist, and the door clicked ajar, opening into the room slowly to reveal the silhouette of the recently promoted Jedi Knight Korr. She wondered if he turned to quickly if he would squeak, his title being so new. Nevertheless, he'd never approached her before, and she was (as usual) curious to the motivations. Since his presence to one of her training forums almost a year ago, she'd wanted to see his path turn around. He'd been such a miserable sod. So, she'd requested the aid of another miserable sod to work together and voila! It had apparently worked beautifully. Er, maybe. She was about to find out, she was sure.

She powered down the datapads and set them aside, the compartment of her circular chair closing with the information inside. Files only certain were privy to, I'm afraid. Not everyone's morale was so bolstered. "Welcome, Knight Korr."

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

The door swung open and stern grey eyes fell upon the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order. She sat serenely in a circular chair, putting away several datapads. It appeared he'd interrupted. His lips pursed slightly before smoothing out again into a stone mask. She spoke, words formal. For a moment, he said nothing in reply, returning stare for stare. In their first encounter he'd lumped her in with the rest of the Council's well-intentioned villains, perhaps he'd been wrong. Marcello trusted her, but then Marcello had fallen. Korr grit his teeth. He didn't know who to put his faith in anymore. How could she remain so composed under the weight of such responsibility?

He despised the idle ceremony that so many of these Council members hid behind, using their titles as shields. Yet for the first time he looked on Kiskla and saw not the apellation, but the woman not so much older than himself. Yet, she possessed a sort of grace under pressure that Ryan could not fully comprehend. A diamond, formed by the crushing embrace of life's pressure. Ryan trod a different path. His was the fiery crucible of the forge, steel folded and hammered until it became a tempered blade, strong and cutting.

Right now he needed to be so very strong... cold... and unyielding.

"Grandmaster," he inclined his head respectfully and stepped forward into her quarters. His boots squeaked slightly on the threshold. They were new.

He came to a stop just in front of her chair and clasped his hands behind his back. He stood ramrod straight, features impassive despite the inner turmoil.

"I have an additional report on the Battle of Teta... I believed this one should be verbal."

The Vahla's lips twitched enigmatically and he continued. "As you know the body of Padawan Rhia Thalasa was recovered on Teta. Post mortem indicates her airway as being crushed, but ultimately determined a blow to the head was the cause of death. What I failed to mention in my initial report..."

He grit his teeth again, breathing out heavily through his nostrils. Could he really do this to the man who'd been his former master? His friend? And Kiskla's lover, no less? Ryan looked away, then stared steadily at the ground.

"... I saw Marcello fall. And though I was engaged in my own combat I could feel his anger. I..." He looked up and met Kiskla's gaze with unyielding grey eyes. "There were only two Sith engaging Aaralyn and her apprentice at that time and only one of them used telekinesis combatively."

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Like Korr, Kiskla's hands were folded. But not behind her, instead resting in her lap as the Knight instigated the conversation. She was pleased he didn’t spend time on trivial means for conversation, she utterly despised small-talk and would much prefer to get to the brunt of the meeting sooner rather than later. The meat of discussions was always so much more delectable than skirting around the weather and other pleasantries regarding well-being.

And, when occasions were solemn and one-on-one, the Kiffar didn’t miss much. His pause wasn’t only in silence, but also physical contortions, although only slight adjustments in his features surfaced for mere milliseconds. He looked conflicted, but she was patient for him to continue. After a few syllables and informative utterances, Ryan stumbled with his words, despite his stone-like rigidity. The façade was not impenetrable, and there was a transition in his diction after he admitted seeing Marcello fall and feeling his anger.

Unfortunately for [member="Ryan Korr"], there were others within the ranks of the Jedi that had not respected the importance of verbal transactions. What he was implying (or so she assumed) had already been brought to her, mixed in with a report of his own factual one. Not that her reactions would have differed much, but when she’d first heard of Padawan Thelessa it had been in writing. With Marcello present. The answer had been straight from the horse’s mouth, and she trusted that he’d been honest with her. She had to.

“You could feel his anger and you..” The Grandmaster coaxed, rolling her wrist to indicate his sentence should continue. A blonde brow arched while she egged. There was no doubt that this was difficult for the Vahl. He’d had a troubled past, and witnessing his mentor’s defection would not be easy on him. It would not be over within a short while either. There were many questions to be asked, perpetual ponderings that wouldn’t leave just because Ryan knew the answer. There would always be more to challenge him.


“If you’re here to deliver a report, Knight Korr, please deliver it to the full extent.The benefit to verbal additions are the details.” He’d wanted to deliver this orally because he had something to say, so if he wanted to speak beyond the presented facts, she'd offered the opportunity for candidacy.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

The young Knight's chest expanded as he inhaled a lungful of calming air to cool the storm within. He exhaled softly, expelling fears, anger, and resent along with the breath. Well did he remember the sort of justice the Council metered out to their own. The scar under his right eye itched at the memory. Maybe he had been wrong to come here, but he would see it through... to whatever end.

"I suspect Marcello killed padawan Rhia Thalasa. I haven't spoken with him since then and even if I did I don't know if I could trust what he said. I wanted to come to you directly with my suspicions. He's my friend and your, uhm..." he didn't know exactly what they were, "...friend...." He continued on with that ever-serious, intense expression of his. Humor availed him little, especial in a situation he considered as grave as this one. "Even so, I cannot stand by and let him escape justice if my suspicions prove true."

The muscles in his jaw writhed. Pain flashed in those grey eyes. "Can't I?" he thought. No. Matsu Ike had been punished for her crimes. Others would be as well. Jedi were meant to serve as the protectors of the galaxy, but who would protect the galaxy from the Jedi? What a cruel sense of humor did fate have, to pit him against one of the few remaining friends he had left in this wretched galaxy.

"My hesitation is my unwillingness to condemn a friend. It feels a betrayal of sorts," his gut twisted into a thousand, writhing, angry knots, "and I have had my fill of betrayals." Breathing exercises were of no use now. The tempest took the forefront of his thoughts. Dangerous thunderheads loomed in those grey eyes even as he bit out the bitter words.

Daella Apparine, Vulpesen, Aaralyn Rekali, Marcello Matteo. All masters. All fallen. Marcello had managed to extricate himself from that abyss, but he'd returned changed. How many more would there be before the end? If it ever would end. "Defeat one Empire of Sith and another crops up to replace it," he thought, "We seek to eradicate the Dark yet I can't help but feel as though in our blind, righteous fury we're missing something."

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

"Our friend has condemned himself." To exile...

The Knight was a convoluted mess of emotion. Kiskla had been there, she’d done that. But that didn’t mean she was any better at handling other people’s outbursts. Still, she’d encouraged his honesty, she’d have to figure out a way to deal with it.

But the usual diplomatic route was not the way to go. It would offend him, no doubt. He was likely perceptive, and if not, resentful. A dangerous quality for an individual.

You could say about as dangerous as having romantic ties.

Nevertheless, nobody dare think she wouldn’t be able to do her job. That would be the ultimate insult — and she faced enough insults as it was, being the lead administrator to a discombobulated Order, cleaning up other’s messes and shouldering their blame. While reaping up some of her own mistakes. But when her mind was made up, she was not only resilient, she was inherently stubborn. Matsu Ike’s lover had come hands and knees to beg for retribution on behalf of Matsu. She’d remained steadfast then, as she would if Marcello were to be on trial. It would hurt, and she would likely be compromised, but if she knew that were the right path to go, she would take it. She would have to. Like Korr, she was a victim of circumstance. Different situations, obviously, but she’d been put in a position of exemplification. Her life was no longer her own. A pinnacle of spirituality was an onerous responsibility---no wonder her predecessors weren't upholding the 'lifetime' length of the position.

“Or does your hesitation come from the uncertainty of speculation. Why wouldn’t you trust what your friend has to say.” Kiskla asked, still remaining as neutral as possible. There was such a commotion coming from his mentality, that she was tempted to reach into his mind and read the words like a scroll. But she wouldn’t intrude when he’d come to her in confidence.

Though she was curious about their bond within The Force-- as a Master and Padawan this sort of wrinkle in time should have been ironed out separately. Shouldn't it have? It had been a while since she'd had a personal connection to a student. As Grandmaster, her attentions were divided and she went where needed most.

“Because you don’t know what he has to day.

Rarely will situations arise in your lifetime where you can work off assumptions when claiming to execute justice. You said for yourself that your suspicions have yet to be proven.

Prove them or disprove them. If you came to me for an answer, I could tell you what you want to hear." She indeed could confirm that the defendant himself had admitted knowing full-well his actions while corrupted; but [member="Ryan Korr"] seemed smarter than that. More contemplative. Kiskla rose from her seat, removing a communications link from her utility belt and extending it in Korr's direction, light eyes holding his scrutinizing, grey glare. "But I'm not the person who should be having this discussion with you--- though I appreciate your strength in coming here."

With the comm still poking out from between her index and thumb, pointing at the red-headed rarity in Vahls, she nodded slightly; indicating he take it. R9's frequencies had only been slightly adjusted, and would likely still pick up on channels trying to reach [member="Marcello Matteo"], but just in case! This was a chat to be held between Master and Pupil. The rogue was the only one who's affirmations would hold truth. "I'll appreciate it more when your report is conclusive."

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

"What I want to hear? And what is that?" He knew in his heart that he wished for Marcello to be innocent, but all his senses told him that Rhia Thalasa had died by Matteo's hand. So was she telling him that he was innocent? He hated these word games, reading between the lines to get at true meanings. Too much was left unsaid.

He accepted the offered comlink. It felt cold to the touch. She was right, of course. Contacting Marcello directly was necessary. So why did he feel so apprehensive about the confrontation? He grit his teeth audibly. Fear. Fear of what he might do to Marcello in anger. Mentally, he chided himself. Do to Marcello? And what could a Knight do to a Master? He could fight and he could break friendship like dry branches over a knee. That was what he feared. In Ryan's eyes, Marcello had failed... like the Council, like the Master who'd betrayed Ryan on Ossus. It made him angry because he'd thought Marcello better than them all. And now... and now Ryan was simply frightened of losing the only friend he had left alive.

Marcello had always been frank with him. Korr did not truly believe his former master would lie. And if he did... Ryan would likely sense it.

The Grandmaster's last words had clearly been a dismissal, but Ryan did not turn to leave. Returning his hands behind his back, still clasping the comlink, he settled once more into parade rest.

"There was another matter... we had several padawans captured on Teta. Jannik Morlandt and Avalore Eden among them. I request approval to gather a small special missions team to retrieve them, comprised of several members from the Order and perhaps Silver Jedi as well as the Levantines."

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

“I know.” Kiskla said in response to the Knight’s actionable request. Her tone was mirthless, and perhaps even a touch mournful as she looked to the side of the Knight at the stone walls. A sigh touched her lips — she hated Teta. The only positive thing that could come from it, was the experience of self-exploration.

If everyone made it back alive.

Still, she had to be optimistic while remaining realistic. Once Ryan took the commlink, she ran her fingers through her hair and ended with her arms folded across her chest, cocking her head slightly to indicate she wasn’t done speaking; “I’ve already deposited assets for these individuals to former Jedi, Ember Rekali — he’s on a mission of recovery.” She’d offered assistance herself, but he was on more of a warpath than anything. Probably best for the pontifex to remain only as a point of contact for this mission, being fed updates.

In the meantime, she was to occupy herself with reinforcing The Jedi that remained under her watch. That was her job. And then plotting how to overcome the Dark Lord these One Sith paid such homage to.

“If you can assemble a team, contact master [member="Talon Vosra"]. He’s been investigating Master Liadain’s disappearance ever since she was taken. With the Sith being involved in all three instances, ” a breath hissed through her teeth as she inhaled sharply, not caring for the words that spilled from her tongue “-He suspects the paths to cross at some point.

Another team, complementary to Rekali’s could speed up the process. As much as he’s offered to assist, his primary focus will be to recover Master Aaralyn Rekali. I don’t want the others to be forgotten.

You have permission to assemble a team.” Jedi were Jedi. By whatever title they branded themselves with. Or, they were supposed to be anyways.

Her light eyes looked over [member="Ryan Korr"] briefly before taking her seat again and crossing her legs. She was a little wary of the Silver Jedi these days, she’d heard of much corruption amongst them. And the fact that Matsu Ike had found a comfortable resting place among their ranks. “Make sure they’re fortified and understand the objectives, Knight Korr.”

It didn’t need to be verbalized just how important it was to not have any more Jedi succumb to the temptations of the dark side.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

The honey-skinned woman's reaction bore signs of worry and exhaustion. Ryan knew she must have the weight of a thousand worlds on her shoulders. He also knew that if one could not uphold that burden with dignity, then perhaps someone else would be better suited for the job. The careworn Knight cared little for the Council's politicking. They too often let abuse of power and corruption trundle under their noses. He served under them because he believed that fracturing the Jedi was not the solution. Reforms were necessary and Kiskla had enacted many in her tenure. Ryan wanted to trust her, but trust did not come easy to one who'd been betrayed and sold into slavery. He'd seen every friend he'd ever had either die or fall to the Dark. No, memory of Marcello's fall was still far too fresh for trust.

Ryan knew the name of Ember Rekali, though he had never encountered the ex-Jedi Mandalorian. Reports from former Imperial Space indicated that his fleet actions against the New Order had been instrumental in their defeat. And of course he was familiar with Talon Vosra. Jedi Investigators set Ryan on edge. They tended to be overeager in rooting out "evil." Talon seemed to possess a level head.

Old scars upon his forearms itched, relics of the Embrace of Pain when he'd been a slave of the Vong. The Jedi had come to rescue him then... and though so many were falling it appeared as though those in charges were competent and capable. Maybe they were entering a new era for the Order, just maybe.

He gave a curt nod in response to her final words. A tempest roved within him, a dark storm that he feared would break loose. He knew anguish more than most. He would make sure that those with him understood that the answer to their grief did not reside in the Darkness.

"I will see to it, Grandmaster." He bowed slightly and turned to leave, pausing only once. "Thank you."

And then he was gone.

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]