Private Splintered Stars

[Corazona von Ascania]

Continued from here.

Cora was fortunate that Makko had plucked her body from the frozen wastes of Arkania in time. With the Alliance's position of fragile uncertainty, he'd elected to bring her to Naboo. They had friends there, and more importantly, safer borders.

Weeks had passed before she was able to breathe unassisted, but one lung remained collapsed while the vessels of her heart constricted and pinched, reducing blood flow and hampering her stamina.

Eventually, she was well enough to travel. It had taken quite a bit of convincing for her husband to agree to Thyferra, but Cora wanted to take stock of what - and who - was left.

After an episode during which she'd lost consciousness, she was to stay at Thyferra's medical center for observation.

"Goodness. That's a tough call."

The servos of her hoverchair whined as Cora drew closer toward the Arkanian woman locked in a game of Dejarik. The blonde scrutinized the playing field before her gaze flicked down to the pair of bacta-filled braces fitted around her fellow Jedi’s legs. Her expression softened, and her focus was back on the board.

"You must be playing against a fairly high difficulty setting."

There were several possible moves that she could see, and none could be made without sacrificing a piece to the computer. A fitting echo for the Alliance's future, if she were to send her train of thought in that direction.

“Do you find that it helps?”

Kylass Starhaven

 

[Kylass Starhaven]

Kylass blinked away from the game board and saw that a bright golden-haired woman in a hoverchair, much like her own, had drifted next to the table. She was watching the holoprojection monster pieces with a curious focus. But it was her question that cut through the fog of stratagems and allegorical battle. Kylass twisted the edge of her pale lips and flicked her silvery eyes back down at the board.

“I don’t know,” Kylass confessed, unable to answer her. She wasn’t even sure what it was trying to help or if it was simply a needed distraction.

“Usually, it does,” Kylass continued. “I used to learn all sorts of stratagems and plays back when I spent more time with daring Spacers and gambit-loving Pilots.”

Kylass narrowed her eyes and drew up her hand to hold up her chin as she pinned the elbow below on the armrest of her hoverchair. “But now,” she sighed. “I can’t come up with anything. No direction…no next move…just stagnate contemplation at where I’ve befallen myself.”

But before she could fall into a deeper conversation with herself, Kylass pulled herself out and blinked away her meditative stupor. She lifted her head from the bracing hand and looked over to the blonde woman. For the first time she could see her properly. She saw her state, and once more, she could feel something far more scarring, pulsing in the Force’s aura about her. They were both broken and battered, but this woman had something far more precious broken. Kylass’ focused stare from the board softened, and the furrow of her thin grey brows loosened and her pursed lips eased into a flat line.

“Apologies,” said Kylass. “Starhaven, Kylass Starhaven. Jedi Lightsworn…and well….current patient.”

Kylass extended a hand to the blonde woman.​

---

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora looked on as the Arkanian thought out loud. Her head tilted to one side, gingerly, in consideration.

"Someone once told me that when we encounter a wall, it is so that we can lean against it to rest."

Her gaze swept low across the board, over the pieces that stood still as stone. Like stalwart soldiers, ready to take their next order. Ready to be sacrificed, if need be. The burden of the decision rested with their commander.

Something in the older woman's visage changed when she looked to Cora. It wasn't quite pity, but something the blonde couldn't yet put her finger on.

When she grasped Kylass' hand, there was a firmness to it that belied the noble’s slight build.

"Corazona von Ascania, Knight of the New Jedi Order and…current patient as well."

Fatigue hung in the corners of her soft smile, but that's expression soon drifted into something a little more somber as their hands unclasped.

"Thank you for coming to the Alliance's aid on Arkania," she said softly. "I am not certain what happened on the snowfields above as my task took me into the temple beneath the ice, but I've been told it was…a harrowing ordeal."

Injured as the pair was, Cora understood they were lucky. Who knew how many corpses of their allies lay frozen among the frigid wastes of Arkania?

Kylass Starhaven

 

[Kylass Starhaven]

“There is no need to give thanks to me, Lady von Ascania,” said Kylass. “A call was made, and we Lightsworn answered. As is our charge as Jedi Warriors.” Kylass replied to Corazona’s soft smile with a curt nod of her own and released her hand from hers.

She could sense the fatigue in the Jedi Knight’s body but also in her soul. Something in the aura of the Force felt wounded, and dark. Kylass knew this pain well. Her Master suffered from a Sith Curse that was slowly consuming her. Kylass’ silvery gaze narrowed and she wondered how bold it would be to ask Corazona about this deeper wound. Perhaps the story of her Master’s fight against the corruption that withered her would help. But there was always the danger of just making things more apparent to the suffering. Kylass released her searching gaze and let it slide back down the gameboard.

“Harrowing…” Kylass said. “Facing the Dark is always harrowing, my Lady. Whether on the battlefield or in yourself. And each time it always takes a piece of you with it.”

Kylass pressed a command into the gameboard's side panel keys and moved one of the monster pieces out from a denser cluster of other monsters; a searching probe against the enemy. The monters stomped across the checkered squares and took position out in the flank, not far from the real threat but close enough to watch. Kylass twisted her lips, dissatisfied that all she could muster as a counterattack was a passive scouting prod. It wasn’t a solution, it was a temporary gesture of defiance and research.

“I envy you, Lady von Ascania,” said Kylass, still watching the board. “I wish I had your empathetic perspective on things, to see them as harrowing ordeals. But for me, they are just ordeals now. I was once a Jedi of the New Jedi Order. But, much of my time as a Padawan and a Knight was outside the Temple, and even the Order. My master taught me practically. Too practically maybe. I spent more time with Spacers, Troopers, and out in the marches of the Galaxy…in warships, starfighters, battlefields…and more battlefields. I have seen many die. I have seen many more simply lost.”

The enemy moved. A hulking beast shunted to the side and caught the scout she had sent. With a heavy club it bashed the scout’s head in and with its claws ravaged the corpse. Kylass sighed and flicked her attention back to the Jedi Knight.

“Perhaps it is not Jedi-like to say such things,” said Kylass. “But I have become accustomed to the harrowing and the horrific. It is the landscape of my life now. So I dwell little on what has happened and prepare myself for what must come next.”

Kylass winced and rubbed her thighs to massage the constant pain that rippled through her legs. “Or at least I used to,” she continued. “But since the horrors I saw on Arkania, and some perpetrated by the very ones who name themselves as defenders, using the Dark Side in such a manner to offend the Force and the dead…I have to dwell a little on the past today. And I dislike what I have found.”

The Arkanian reclined into her hoverchair and scratched her head, messing up her long ashen pale hair in a suppressed tick of frustration. She stopped and shrugged. “What about the Order?” asked Kylass. “What will they do now? The Lightsworn will stay our course. Crusade and war, light to burn the dark. That is how we see it…that is how I see it at least. We must stop at nothing to purify the corruption, within and without. But what do you see?”​

---

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

What about the Order?

Cora frowned, though not wholly from displeasure. Where Kylass had her frustrations, so too did she. It was natural. Setbacks caused discomfort that demanded to be felt.

Felt, understood, and learned from, she'd once advised her students. It was a delicate balance, one that demanded practice, and it stirred memories of the Coruscant temple's high, arched stone walls. A place she'd perhaps never see again. Little faces, many that had been swallowed by the imperial war machine.

"I suppose we'll do what we did after Coruscant," she murmured on a withering sigh. "Regroup, assess who and what we have, then plan our next steps. We didn't have much time to catch our breath when Arkania was attacked."

Their leadership had been hollowed out, leaving bitterness and confusion in its wake. Where had they gone wrong? Where had she gone wrong? Cora's pointer finger tapped against the armrest of her chair.

"We elected to scatter for our own safety, among temples and enclaves. I saw to many of the younglings and early Padawans, moving them as far out of harm's way as we could manage. The Order has undergone…drastic change. It will not be the same as it once was, not for a long while. Many of our leaders are now gone, leaving only a handful of knights to pick up the pieces."

Her fingers stilled, sliding to the edges of her armrest. Had refusing masterhood on Ilum been a mistake? Perhaps an elevated station would've made her less reckless. Perhaps, if she hadn’t tried to excise the demon from Voldran, she’d be well enough to help guide the Order.

Perhaps even then, it would not have been enough.

"In any event," Cora found a small, threadbare smile, "I'm glad that there are Jedi who remain to fight the Empire. Perhaps your brand of practicality is what's needed in the war to come."

Her attention fell to the board once more, observing the scout's mangled corpse. Who programmed such savagery into a game? Her lips twisted in brief musing before her gaze slowly lifted to Kylass.

"You will recover soon," she murmured. "That is what I see. You will fight again, soon, to defend something dear."

Cora leaned back against the headrest of her chair. Her powers of prophecy had never been acute, but she could read the winds of the Force well enough. Well enough to know that her own future was murky.

Kylass Starhaven