Faction TDF - Evening on the Drift

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric | Open to TDF

Most of the ship lay quiet, drifting through its sleep cycle. Lights were lowered to a muted glow, the thrum of the engines steady beneath the decking. While others rested, Braze slipped into the small dojo. He had chosen wakefulness over sleep, there was too much on his mind, too much weight pressing against his chest to allow for rest.

He bore responsibility now, especially for young Leos . Without a temple's walls to protect them, the burden of safety fell squarely on him. Out here between Ossus and Veridia, there was no council to turn to, only his own judgment. How could he protect some one if he couldn't protect himself?

The presence of Okuma Milogen left him unsettled, he feared he might pose a danger to others. For the you Echani, such thoughts were bitter and strange.

His mind wandered as he stretched, threading rope across the chamber. Bespin loomed close, and he still debated whether Leos should follow him there, so near the heart of Sith space. He thought briefly of Loomi , Jasper Kai'el , and Ko Vuto , wondering where they were now, if they fared any better. A sigh escaped him as he tightened the line, preparing for a moving meditation.

The practice had been absent for too long, but tonight it would offer a fragile echo of normalcy. Perhaps even the delay caused by Okuma Milogen 's injuries was a gift of sorts: a pause that allowed him space to breathe, however uneasily. Still, the questions pressed in the dark: Who might be hunting him still? Could forgiveness be found, if he carved a way through this tangled path?


He exhaled again, stepped up onto the cord, and began the slow balance of one foot before the other. Each movement a meditation, each breath a small defiance of the turmoil crowding his thoughts.

And yet… he was not the only one awake. Another soul had risen in the ship's false night...

​

 

[Kyric]

Within the darkness of one of the Mud Duck's many lodgings, Kyric sat on the cold durasteel floor with his back pressed up against the wall. Held firmly within his hand was a thin holoprojector he casually tossed up into the air. It flipped like a coin as it rose, stopping a fraction of an inch from the ceiling in its fluid rotation, before it descended back down to his outstretched hand. He lost count of how many times he repeated the motion. By then, hours had passed. Rest eluded him on the Mud Duck no differently than it did Atrisia or Naboo.

Kyric considered activating the device as it fell flatly within his palm. The face that awaited him was the very same face he saw within his dreams when he managed to quiet his thoughts and drift away. Instead, he slipped the holoprojector into his pocket. A soft voice in the back of his head stopped him again, much like the last time.

Even separated by tens of thousands of light years the kiffar couldn't bear to look. He didn't deserve the privilege after the pain he put her through during the Kaggath.

"Stupid," Kyric mumbled. "Absolute fethin' fool." He climbed to his feet and made for the door.

Rest freely given was undeserved. If he wanted to sleep, it would come after he drove himself to the limits. He knew no other way to find peace since escaping the confines of imperial imprisonment months ago.

After several minutes of padding quietly through the Mud Duck's corridors, Kyric stopped outside what Braze dubbed "the Dojo." It wasn't exactly what the kiffar was used to when the word came to mind. Clan Ashina still favored a more traditional design others often called dated. To Kyric, their training grounds felt authentic—like home, really.

The door opened to reveal Braze walking the tightrope stretched across the facility.

Kyric said nothing. He watched for a moment, then wandered over to one of the many shelves forged into the wall. The kiffar didn't have anything aside from the holoprojector to store within them. He fished it out of his pocket and stared down at it for a long stretch of time. Again he contemplated turning it on for the hundredth time that night.

He eventually set it aside and quietly worked through his own stretching regiment for a warm up.

---

Tags: Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric

Braze didn't seem to mind Kyric entering the room as he arched backward, his spine curving into a controlled arch. The cord quivered faintly beneath him as he placed his hands along the tightrope, shoulders rolling with slow precision. Muscles along his arms and abdomen tensed like drawn cords, but the motion carried a dancer's poise rather than strain. With deliberate slow grace, he hoisted his legs upward until his feet pointed toward the ceiling, holding the position in stillness before lowering one foot, then the other, until he stood upright once more.

He paused there, those pale jade-green eyes settling on the raven-haired young man. "Can't sleep either?" he asked quietly. Then, sliding one foot back, Braze let himself descend into a split, the controlled stretch flowing as though his body was simply following the rhythm of the cord.

​

 

[Kyric]

"Somethin' like that," Kyric offered in answer. This wasn't the first time he ran into one of the Mud Duck's other residents during the sleep cycle. Between the litany of poor sleeping habits and cautionary glances thrown over the shoulder, he was starting to get the feeling everyone aboard the ship was haunted by unseen spirits, poisoned by the effects of great tragedy.

"Rough night?" Kyric asked in turn. "Somethin' on yer mind, maybe?"

The kiffar looked back at Braze in time to watch the echani sink down in a perfect split across the tightrope. His flexibility was absurd, like that of a trained contortionist. Kyric didn't skip out on stretching by any means, but he didn't come close to the display before him. Not by a longshot.

Rather than sit there and stare, Kyric dropped down to the mat and reached out for his bandaged feet. He grabbed them and pulled himself forward until his chest pressed down against his thighs. The stretch served another purpose, really—an excuse not to maintain eye contact. He hadn't realized it up until a moment ago, but the green-eyed young man who shared the dojo beside him had an air about him that Kyric would describe as attractive.

Braze exuded an empathy for others that Kyric rarely knew outside of a fair few people in his life. Coupled with the echani's effeminate features and generous demeanor, the Jedi Knight's mind temporarily wandered away from that burning desire to beat his feelings into submission. It wasn't long until Kyric mentally chastised himself and leaned back into a one-handed spring that carried him up onto his feet.

---

Tags: Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric

"There's always something on my mind," he admitted lightly, though the truth of it pressed heavier beneath his soft tone. He drew in a slow breath, then shifted his weight, moving the bend back into place and tightening the rope in his grasp. Muscles tensed and released in measured rhythm as he hoisted himself upwards with slow careful controlled.

When he settled upright again, he let his gaze fall back to Kyric. He watched him for a moment, maybe even admiring the way he moved. The missing arm didn't slow him, nor did it seem to stop him at all. Braze had spent enough time with one arm paralyzed, and later with his off-hand broken, to know how the simplest things became tedious trials. Watching Kyric turn disadvantage into fluidity sparked a silent respect in him, as he admired Kyric's tenacity.

"More so now…" His words thinned to a murmur as he exhaled deeply, trying to purge the rising tide of guilt and anxiety. They always waited for him in the edges of thought. "You ever feel trapped?" He asked lightly, trailing like the question slipped free from his thoughts.

He lifted his head then, those jade-green eyes settling on Kyric with a steadier weight. "Hey… can I ask you for a favor?" The question carried a tone that had shed its lightness, shifting into something more somber, almost fragile with its seriousness.

​

 

[Kyric]

Kyric understood that sentiment intimately. Between the crushing weight of his father's legacy and the expectations placed on him by his fellow Jedi, he struggled to find the room necessary to breath some days. Hearing another admit to such difficulties provided a sense of relief in the form of a simple reminder: Kyric wasn't alone in this, even if he felt that way separated from those he held dear to his heart.

The flux in Braze's tone caught the kiffar's attention. He hadn't noticed it at first, but the quiet exhalations and minor shifts in cadence weren't a product of the echani's contortionist routine—not entirely. That unspoken burden pulled the young exile in a dozen different directions. Whatever thoughts he faced boiled over to a point where even Kyric couldn't miss it.

His one sapphire eye met Braze's twin orbs of brilliant jade.

"I ain't the type to say no to someone in need, Braze." Kyric said with a slight smile. "Especially not to someone goin' out of there way to help me like you have. What do ya' need?"

Was there a chance Kyric would come to regret offering his helm? Without a doubt. The swiftness with which he tended to trust others hadn't done him many favors in the past. Between Capris' landing him in Solipsis' prisons and Damien's betrayal alongside the Black Sun Syndicate, Kyric had no shortage of lessons to learn from. But he saw the best in others, even when they didn't necessarily deserve it.

---

Tags: Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric

Braze dropped down landing lightly, wire shifting under his weight before he slipped free of it. Bare feet kissed the padded flooring below, and for a moment he only stared down. Then he looked away adverting his gaze before pausing and looking about after going very still as if listening, or sensing something beyond the room they were in. Then he looked back, eyes finding Kyric again, snowy brows furrowing with an odd expression of concern.

"This isn't easy for me to admit… or ask." His voice barely carried. "But I can't trust myself. And I don't think there's anyone here I… can… trust. Not with what I need... So I'm going to trust you."

The words seemed to catch in his throat. Uncertainty, anxiety, and guilt, all boiling beneath the surface, daring to spill if he lingered too much on those dark thoughts. At any moment, someone else might appear, or might overhear.

"I need someone I can trust. Implicitly. Without question." His tone dropped even lower, barely above a whisper, but fragile. "If....for whatever reason—I…" He faltered, exhaled sharply, searching Kyric's gaze. "If I become a danger..."

There was a long trailing silence...
"End me quickly. And protect the young one. Finish teaching him if I can't."

Those somber jade eyes locked onto Kyric looking for his gaze...
"Can I trust you with this?"

​

 

[Kyric]

Kyric listened intently, scrutinizing every motion made. Emotion churned like a roiling river within Braze. His confidence faltered. Each word added to the heavy load bearing down on the young exile. It commanded the kiffar's full attention.

When the request finally surfaced in its morbid state, Kyric froze. To say he hadn't expected that would be an understatement.

"Ya' came out swingin' with this one, huh?" Kyric asked. His earlier smile remained, though it had shifted to something somber against his wishes. He knew the responsibilities of a Jedi demanded such things. Death wasn't unfamiliar to him, but by no means did he want to kill anyone. Let alone a struggling youth burdened by unseen demons.

Unsure how else to respond, Kyric allowed the conversation to lapse into silence to collect his thoughts. Questions immediately swam to the surface of his mind. He knew now wasn't the time to try and parse through it all, so he shifted focus back to the present.

The kiffar crossed the room and placed a hand on Braze's shoulder. "I don't know what's goin' on, kid, but I believe yer stronger than ya' think. I'll stand by you and keep the others safe. If there's a chance yer actions are gonna hurt a whole lot more people? Sure, I'll do what needs to be done. I just ask we exhaust some other options first."

---

Tags: Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric

Braze offered him a faint smile at that, the edge of tension melting from his shoulders as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Relief drifted through him like a soft tide, smoothing the turmoil that had knotted itself so tightly within.

"That's the plan, at least… thank you," he murmured, his voice lighter, almost intimate in its candor.

He stepped toward the taut rope, fingertips trailing along its line as though testing the give. The faint rasp of leather against fiber was lingering. "You ever try walking one before?" he asked, glancing back with a hint of playful challenge as his mood shifted to something more interested in the moment.

In a fluid motion he sprang back onto the rope, body poised with an easy grace, the faint sway of balance almost feline. Extending a gloved hand toward Kyric, he held it there in a steady, inviting motion, as though coaxing him into the shared space of that precarious line.

 

[Kyric]

Elated to discover Braze hadn't given up in the face of this problem, Kyric's smile shed what sadness it momentarily held. The thought of losing his newest companion so soon didn't sit well with the Jedi Knight. They had barely set out on whatever adventures awaited them aboard the Mud Duck, and for the first time in a very long time, Kyric felt joy when faced with the unknown. Temporarily free from the choking responsibilities of the Jedi Order, Braze and his compatriots represented opportunity to see the galaxy in ways the ties to Ryv Karis' legacy did not allow his son.

"A tightrope specifically? Nope," Kyric shook his head.

Memories of his training returned to him. Images of leaping across the rooftops of the Suicide Slums alongside his father surfaced, followed by flashes of time spent on Atrisia, scaling 10,000 waterfalls across a year of grueling attempts.

"I've done my fair share of balance trainin', though." He took Braze's hand and scaled up onto the cord with the echani's help.

Kyric didn't immediately tip over and fall, but he lacked the elegance and finesse shown by the fairer of the two Jedi. Had he still had both arms, he would've thrust both arms out in opposite directions to counterbalance. Instead, he crouched a few inches lower, one foot in front of the other, and focused on Braze directly ahead of him.

"Normally, I'd cheat an' use the Force for this sorta thing out in the field," Kyric chuckled at his admission. "S'ppose it's more fun doin' it the hard way, huh?"

---

Tags: Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric

A faint smile graced Braze's lips as Kyric accepted the challenge, stepping up to join him on the line. Braze stood steady upon the narrow rope, his presence acting as fixed point for Kyric to anchor himself against the sway of uncertainty. He held firm until he felt Kyric's balance begin to root.

"The trick is to keep your core tight, and relax your body..." Braze murmured, his voice calm but edged with quiet intensity. Slowly, he shifted one foot back, the motion fluid as he began to withdraw the hand that steadied Kyric. The rope quivered under the subtle shift, vibrations shifting along the line.

"Steady… and slow," he encouraged, his tone low, coaxing Kyric, "Keep your center of mass over the rope, head high, eyes forward. Motion is your ally, objects in motion stay in motion."

His step had been a minor retreat as though testing whether Kyric would follow or falter.

 

[Kyric]

Slow and steady breaths escaped Kyric as he eased himself into the exercise. For some odd reason, he found himself nervous at the prospect of the challenge. Only bruises awaited him if he fell. He faced greater threats between Atrisia and the Battlefield, even without the Force to guide his hand and ease his mind. Yet, the thought of fumbling here spurred him on. The tension within his hands and feat slowly dissipated, spreading up through his limbs to stop just before his abdomen.

"Alright," Kyric nodded to himself. "I dunno why I'm takin' this so seriously. Feels like I'm steppin' back into the arena on Ruusan." His single eye remained affixed to Braze, head held high.

Inch by inch, Kyric moved after the echani. His progress was slow, halted every few seconds by a need to adjust his body to the faint sway of the tightrope beneath his bandaged feet. But the kiffar never gave in. The thought of it didn't cross his mind. As with all things in his life, the only proper direction was forward.

"I think I might be gettin' the hang of this, huh?" Kyric chuckled, which ended up being a mistake. The rapid rise and fall of his shoulders threw his balance out of whack. He dropped lower—his gaze locked on Braze's chest—and he adjusted his stance until his center of gravity returned to a fixed point over the cord. "Oops," he murmured.

Once Kyric found his balance anew, he forged on.

---

Tags: Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric

Braze wavered slightly as Kyric's laugh rang out, a coy little smile tugging at his lips. The floor below was padded mats atop foam mats so falling wasn't too dangerous from this minor height.

"You're doing exceptionally well," he offered with gentle praise spoken with a warm tone. A faint glimmer of teasing crept into his voice. "Perhaps because… the alternative would be embarrassing. Most wouldn't want to make a fool of themselves in front of a new friend."

His pale eyes lingered as the smile at the corner of his mouth deepening just a little more. "Impressing them, though, that feels much nicer. Two extremes, born from nothing more than the little stories we tell ourselves..."

He let the silence linger briefly before adding, "Funny how much sharper we become… when someone's watching." Then his gaze shifted down to the rope then back up slowly studying Kyric's form. "Though… I wonder. Are you trying so hard to impress me, Kyric? Or yourself?"

The faintest laugh stirred in his throat as he stepped back, creating that charged space between them again. "Perhaps it's because, deep down, we'd rather be seen at our best… I know that's what I'd prefer... It's part of why I train so hard."

He gestured lightly with his hand, "Try stepping forward, heel to toe."

 

[Kyric]

"Only person I ever cared to impress was my old man," Kyric admitted faster than he could think better of it. His mind caught up with his tongue after the words escaped his lips. "But uh... that ain't gonna happen. Not anymore, anyway." He paused to refocus his efforts to the task at hand. Half a minute passed and he realized his earlier focus wouldn't be returning anytime soon. Not with memories of his fathering flickering through his mind.

Echoes of the past played out on the edges of his fractured vision. Moments better left buried engulfed the room in a tidal wave of conflicted emotion. Specters of distant days back on Denon summoned an overwhelming joy that disappeared beneath a crimson saber. It tore through his blackened vision again and again, his assailants smirk a direct challenge to his father's sacrifice. More images appeared like a flipbook, each one coming more quickly than the last, until Kyric found his balance shattered.

The world teetered.

A faint rush of air was Kyric's only warning before his body collided with the mat below. He stared up at the ceiling with his good eye, his face twisted up into a mask of anguish. The kiffar buried it all as quickly as it appeared and swung his body forward, sitting up with a forced smile.

"I'm used to bein' the fool," Kyric said aloud, though it wasn't clear if he intended it for Braze or himself. "Better to give folks a reason to smile, I think."

---

Tags: Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric

Braze padded lightly along the wire, turning sideways to balance before sinking into a crouch on the balls of his feet. He peered down at Kyric, pale eyes steady.

"Sooner or later… you've got to start living life for yourself," he said softly. "It's short, and you only get one chance at it."

He let the words hang, gaze flicking downward as if to test whether they sank in. Then, almost idly, he added, "You lost your focus."

With that, Braze straightened, rising smoothly from the crouch. He stepped aside, weight shifting as if yielding the space, before hopping down from the line with practiced ease. He bent forwards and offered Kyric his hand to help him to his feet.

 

[Kyric]

The advice dredged up memories of a similar conversation months before.

It took place within a dream, of course. Summoned forth by the complex web of emotions shared by Kyric and his bonded dyad—Capris. She wanted similar things for him. To escape the weight of his father's legacy and find a lasting peace was chief among them. His body bore the weight of his tenacity in the form of old and new scars alike. All of which were a permanent reminder of where his lifestyle inevitably led.

Pain. Loss. Martyrdom.

Kyric took Braze's hand and climbed to his feet with the echani's help.

"You aren't wrong," Kyric said in turn. "But I don't much care for livin' my life fer myself. I'm a Jedi. I serve a greater purpose—the kind that demands sacrifice. And there are enough of us runnin' around, startin' families, and livin' large. I'm happy to throw myself into the fire to give folks the chance to live that kinda life."

---

Tags: Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Kyric

"I want to protect that kind of freedom too… but what will remain of your legacy if you fall so soon? In one way or another, I think that everyone hopes to be remembered for something. The death of a good man is always a tragedy, but a life lived in service can ripple outward far beyond what one person could ever see.
When you inspire others and help them, they carry that good forward, and in turn inspire even more. That is how a legacy truly grows. If you throw your life away too soon, you rob yourself, and all those who might follow you, of a brilliant future of what could yet be. To me, a Jedi's purpose reaches farther than a single fiery moment of battlefield honor. To safe guard the sanctity of life also means means living fully, and using that life to shape others for the better."
​