Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The art of construction

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He toiled quietly, as he always did when day shifted to night. The homestead was eerily quiet, despite the presence of a multitude of people. Like cigarro smoke in a gentle wind, Spark often came and she went. Avalore, while very close to Gabe, was busy these days tending to the numerous children that seemed to be sprouting in the homestead. Tacked on with her healer circle responsibilities, the two often felt as ships passing in the night. Relit and Vaet kept to themselves, often sticking around the tap tree or tending to Ankarres forest that was flourishing in the backlot. And Gabe couldn't recall the last time he had spoken with Jacen, though he suspected his tending to responsibilities and tutelage for his son likely got in the way of camaraderie.

Taheera felt like a more constant presence around the homestead and property, though Gabe often wondered if she was the cause of the deficit in deli meat and cheeses in the kitchen refrigerator. As far as he could tell, she was perpetually hungry. He wondered if it was a result of the transfer, a sort of craving born from a large expense of energy.

The underbelly of the homestead was an ever evolving centerpiece to Gabe's work. While he remained, forever, a man fashioned towards lightside alchemy, he was also a Sulon Sheriff and Marshal for the Galactic Alliance. That meant that while he preferred that his workshop remain ever revolving around the concepts of forging and crafting, the induction of technology and surveillance equipment was required. Not only for immediate response to any issues that might arise on the planet, but also in the event that he need to evacuate in the event of an invasion. While Sulon sat at the center of Alliance space, nothing lasted forever. So he made it his priority to keep things working and enhancing, staying ahead of the curve. As well as that, the workshop and underdwelling served as a mode of communication and transportation in the event that SLEEG need respond to an alliance crisis. The recent incursions of First Order into Alliance space came to mind. While no personnel from the SLEEG office reported directly to the homestead, it was in constant communication with the satellite facility that was nested within Baron's Hed.

But none of that mattered right now. For the life of him, Gabe could not recall how to go about stretching leather and treating it to wrap a hilt. Or more accurately, he couldn't remember the specifics of the process. It was his preference to wrap a hilt with alchemically imbued leather as it added notes of personality with mild benefit. Clicking on the holonet, the screen lit up as he clicked on the search bar.

::DIY Tikulini Leather molding::
The screen shined a milky white that painted the otherwise rust and blue hued room. On the screen, an abundance of results. He started clicking haphazardly, assuming the firewall and other various software installed by Spark would keep things running smoothly.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

With the glow of he surrounding woods, she didn't have to worry about being stranded in the dark during a miscalculated hike. Checking her comm, she saw it flash. Rumors of First Order movement again from alliance headquarters. She frowned. Trextan was going to meet up with Choli to do some relief efforts on Skorr II and he'd asked the healer to join but she turned him down. She already had an obligation, albeit a bit more dangerous.

It was her secret to bear.

Carefully stomping any dirt or kick off her shoes on the front mat, she entered the homestead. Without thinking, her senses stretched forward in the force, honing in on Gabe's presence. His workshop again.

Filling a glass up with water, she headed to the workshop, feeling the echo of the force master's presence there. Lips twitched slightly as she saw his scrolling. According to the peculiar blonde girl that ghosted around, Gabe wasn't the best with computers.

"Doing this while Spark is away. Smart," she eased more into the room, downing some of that water.
 
He was entranced by his reading of leather softening, but not so much as to miss the comment regarding Spark. Of course, Gabe wasn't exactly the most technically inclined, particularly in regard to computers. He was liable to do as much damage as good. But he knew the obvious remedy for such occurrences.

"Any damage I might do is easily offset..." He clicked on the keyboard as he dragged his eyes from the screen to the Mirialan. "With the proper application of grilled cheese sandwiches." He smiled as he pushed away from the console and stepped out from the circular desk. Walking briskly over to a metal counter-top, he clicked on the overhead fluorescence to fill the counter space with orange and yellows. The table was largely covered with a blanket, which he yanked free to reveal components of what appeared to be a lightsaber. Albeit, one with a shaft that more closely resembled a pike. He waved for the Mirialan to come over.

"I'll be honest. The pieces are in bad shape and a bit rusted. But nothing a little metal wire brush, mineral oil, and elbow grease can't cure. I picked them up from Baron's Hed for quite the deal..." He stated somewhat triumphantly. He, of course, didn't need her to do this part of it manually. There was equipment that could render the fat and decay from the metal and properly coat it in chrome for construction. "Take a look at it, tell me what you think. Best thing about starting out from the bottom is there's nowhere to go but up..." He threw up a thumb back to the console. "Just gonna read a bit more, shouldn't be long. We purchased a decent length of Tikulini leather from the market and I'm just trying to brush up on treatment. Interesting material. Supple yet resistant to lightsabers. Should make for appropriate garment or lightsaber handle wrap." He looked towards the table once more before walking back up to the computer and resuming his previous activities.

He actually wasn't reading anything. He had sorted out his concerns. He just wanted to view her response from afar.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Puzzled gaze swept over the pieces on the table. She stepped closer to the edge, getting a better look. Gabe's enthusiasm threatened to be contagious even if she didn't quite know what he was on about. Shopping and deals?

Shopping had never been her cup of tea.

What was the old man up to?

Myrtle-ellipses transitioned from the wares on the table to his form, the warm light of the shop accentuating the curves and angles of her face. "What are you? Wait. Did you get all this for me?" Arms crossed and the Jedi shot her adopted master a slightly accusatory look. Lips pressed together, trying to keep the smile off them.
 
[member="Taheera Sollo"]

He clicked on a video. It was of a bovine, recently released from a barn, and allowed to frolic through a field of wild flowers and hay. He smiled, somewhat distracted, as the Mirialan asked the question. "Did I get that for you?" He said, dragging his eyes away from the video and stifling a laugh. It was cute, he couldn't deny that. "Why would I do something like that?"

Looking towards Taheera, he looked back towards the table, narrowing his eyes. "I'm a victim of frugality. And for the custom of bartering. So...lets make a deal." He arched his brow as he looked over. "Assemble it and get it functioning...and you can have it. Only one stipulation..." He turned back towards the screen and clicked the video on. "When it's chromed and ready for assembly...you can't use your hands to put it together."

In earnest, he was enticing her towards the utilization of the force for construction. Too often, force users were in a hurry to construct their weapon without ever realizing the sanctity of the practice. The nature of the instrument, and its power, lied in the connection it had with its user. An understanding of purpose. While it wasn't necessary to use telekinesis to form this bond, it was rare for Jedi to take to the practices of imbuement. Particularly when in an alien body, still developing connection between spirit and flesh. He was hoping she would understand the request though it occurred to him - there would be a certain entertainment value it watching her try to assemble it with her feet.
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Green-arms crossed beneath her chest. The empath could feel his teasing emotions in waves from where she stood. The corners of her lips twitched even as her eyes rolled. "Well, you've fed me enough sandwiches, so I just thought...,"

"Perhaps all that food was a trade so I'd stick around to learn from your vague ways, oh great master of the force," this time she grinned. Chestnut strands of hair drifted across her face as her head turned back to the contents on the workshop table. Smile faltered. The healer had inherited the current lightsaber she owned, from one of the two she'd been cloned from.

She'd found the staff, or rather, it had found her.

Sure, she could knit cells and flesh together on the smallest scale and she excelled at TK. But working with equipment and really putting a piece of yourself into tools with the force...well, this would be a first. And that's what she assumed Gabe meant. Her confidence wavered a tad, even though she stepped closer to the table and pushed up her sleeves. There would be a long way to go until the pieces would be ready for assembly.

"I expect complimentary food to remain as part of this bargain." Myrtle-ellipses swept back to Gabe in a very serious look.
 
He made no claims of being truly great with the force. If he had any talent, in that regard, it was simply a consequence of persistence. And being hard headed. If the scars on his body weren't indicator of that, he wasn't sure what was. Nevertheless, he appreciated her mocking tone for the jovial teasing that it was. And considering he was dishing it out himself, in a more subtle fashion, perhaps he was asking for it.

He stood up from his computer to step back down towards her and the table. "You expect quite a bit...Taheera Sollo." At this point, she was always welcome at his table. In a sense, they were kindred spirits linked by unfortunate circumstance. She merely lagged behind in the experiences he withstood without guidance, with her own flavor tossed in for good measure. Even if her look was oh so serious, he brushed it aside for the heaping of attitude that evidently came with the Mirialan body. Well, it was probably something that hinged in the ether, forever attached to the soul. Wherever Taheera went, this body or the next, those eyes would look back with joking defiance. Placing one of his hands on her back, he reached forward. Pulling the corners of the cloth over the different pieces, he quickly assembled a knapsack before stepping away from the Jedi. "Follow me, I have somewhere more appropriate for this guidance. Then, you can have whatever food that might be left..."

Stepping away from the bench, calloused hands found a metal door. As it slid open through swiping of biometrics, stone steps took him up into the garden. While night, the twilight reflection of Sullust provided illumination through the rows of vegetables and ornamental plants. But prior to that, nestled between garden and house, a plot of white sand rested in raked patterns. Setting the sack down in the center, he left footprints as he walked to electronic torches and activated them. This was the zen garden that he constructed, one of the first components of the homestead, to offer some semblance of peace of mind. While there was no rake present, it was obvious that the location was often tended to. Motioning for Taheera to sit at the center, he propped himself against one of the few boulders that littered the large area.

"Tell me...what is it that you hear, as you exist here in this garden?"

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

With a start, she realized that subtle touch at her back from the Jedi master wasn't something alarming or foreign, as it once was. Especially since he had a habit of invading personal space without second thought. Nor was it something necessarily intimate. It was, familiar. And for the girl who never experienced what it was like to have a family, she wondered if it was something like this.

"More secret doors?" She murmured behind him as he stepped out into the natural darkness. A ghost of a smile was still on her lips as she followed. The healer worked to push distracted thoughts of the upcoming mission and her quickly approaching departure away.

Myrtle-ellipses looked at the lines and patterns in the sand. With the alliance, it was always go, go, go. But here, things were so different. It always took her a moment to shift from one state of being to the next.

Soft-booted feet made her own footprints in the sand as she did as instructed and settled in the center. Slender legs crossed. "You better not throw sand on me when I'm not looking," she grumbled and closed her eyes. The jest was still in her tone. Still, Gabe could be a wiley one.

"What do I hear?" Eyes cracked open for confirmation then quickly closed again. "My breathing and heartbeat. Yours. The breeze through the brush, insects," lips pursed. "The slight humming of the lightsaber crystal in my pocket."

She paused and remained quiet. And suddenly, she felt very small. It was hard to focus solely on sound and not what she was picking up via her senses in the force.

Eyes cracked open to see if the OLDER man was laughing at her yet. "Is that what you meant?"
 
"I meant nothing but for you to listen..." He stated quietly as he crossed his arms. "In a room crafted to dampen all ambient noise, we become attuned to every sound, no matter how meager. Your heartbeat, the sound of your breath. Your other senses benefit from inward reflection as well. If you try hard enough, you can even imagine the pulse...as it extends from your heart to your extremities. Like a soft wave, crashing against a shore." He stepped forward as he slowly sat, crossing his legs, in front of Taheera.

"I don't have a room like that here. So you must learn to quiet all unnecessary things, and focus on what's important. The lightsaber crystal hums because its presence is loud. But even the components of a lightsaber will speak to you if you but attempt to listen." He reached out, grasping the blade emitter shroud with the force. Lifting it, it slowly twirled in front of them. "The metal cools and it warms, stretching and shrinking on the atomic level. Atoms vibrate against one another, absent the energy to break apart. But their noise can still be heard. And that noise is brought to life by the force."

"Each piece that lays within that bundle serves a critical component. Without one piece, you are left with a thing that cannot work." He paused. "Except for the dimetris circuits...I actually have no idea what those are for. People just started putting them into lightsabers one day and it must have set a trend." He mentally stepped off the soap box, regaining his composure before looking back to Taheera. "So that is where we start. With general purpose. Let the force guide you, imagine the instrument in full form and impress upon the separate objects...that sense of purpose."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Amusement flecked within her mossy depths when Gabe went on about dimetrics circuits. Of course, she'd had to tune out distractions before. She was a healer within the Alliance and the Republic before that. Loud battlefields where concentration was key to work on a patient at the cellular level was most often times life or death.

Still, she couldn't help stare at the components of the lightsaber staff with a smidgen of hesitant skepticism. The Mirialan was mused to working with the living. Not this metal-based stuff. Gabe made it sound so easy.

Breath huffed a wayward strand of chestnut hair away from her eyes. Palms lowered to her own crossed knees. Atoms. She could focus on the atoms.

"H'okay," she breathed and stared at the pieces. For a second nothing happened. "Focus on the whole," she muttered. "Like building a sandwich," purple lips twitched slightly and she certainly did not look at the force master's face. One by one, the pieces on the cloth lifted and hovered in the air, beginning to align, twist, and plug in together.

The base spun past Gabe's nose, barely missing it.

"Sorry, sorry," she muttered.
 
His head moved back just a hair, enough for the item to move by in an arc before gathering back around its assorted items. Eyes drifting between her and the items, he smiled. "Before I make sandwiches, I am forced to cut the gristle from the meat...it's unneeded, unnecessary, and inedible. Only the most important things go into the process."

He motioned out towards the floating items. "Bread..." His hand moved. "Meat...lettuce...condiments...cheese." He knew her nearly insatiable desire for food, a fan of the sandwich, as it were. The metaphor would likely, no doubt, cause distraction. "We add many things to our sandwiches that are amazing...but unnecessary in crafting a truly traditional meal. Honey, crisp apples, red cabbage or spicy pickles. These are the things that are better left for later, for when you have mastered the simple task of sandwich construction."

He nodded sagely as he continued to watch in her endeavor, hands placed in relaxed fashion on his knees. "Yes, just like making a sandwich."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Her stomach betrayed her as it rumbled in hunger. Saliva in her mouth kicked in just slightly. The parts in the air faltered.

A mischievous glare was cast Gabe's way. "But you're forgetting the red onions and the importance of cheese. Stop distracting me. What if I passed out on this sandy field from starvation?"

They both knew that wasn't going to happen.

Handle connected with the staff. Emitter slid in, and all the pieces finally connected. The finished work for phase one bumped back down on the spread cloth. The healer studied her work quietly, a slightly sandy palm going to brush past an itch on her green cheek.

"I think I should stick to healing and we should all be thankful I'm not a technopath."

Otherwise, it'd take ages to finish things and then, she'd definitely eat all of the older master's food.
 
"Forgetting the cheese? Not likely..." He said with a subtle smirk, his eyes drifting to the item that now rested on the cloth in the sand. Despite his often disheveled appearance and tendency to carry himself as a war worn farmer, he had a keen eye for consistency. And given the nature of a lightsaber, perfect assembly was required for proper utilization.

"There is a certain art form to placement of cheese, of course. And in selection..." His hand extended outward as lifted the object with the aid of the force. Tilting his fingers, as if to move the item within his phantom fingers, the lightsaber titled in turn. "You can truly over do it, at times."

His other hand moved forward as index finger extended to the blade shroud, marked with rust. "The emitter matrix, at the mouth of the lightsaber..." It tilted towards her, showing where the beam would extend should it be activated. "It is too deeply set against the magnetic stabilizing ring. Continued usage, in this state, would crimp the length and intensity adjustment knobs. They would eventually malfunction, putting you in danger."

He looked towards Taheera. "I think you have done very well. With time and practice, this will become as second nature. And when you're in the wilderness or remotely deployed, you will find reassurance in your own confidence. With a bit of adhesive and spare electrical wiring, you can work wonders in a tight spot."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

She leaned forward, balled up hands beneath her chin as she peered closely at the rotating piece. Myrtle-ellipses scrunched up as he peered down at the emitter placement. He was right, of course. Shoulders slumped slightly forward and she frowned.

More practice. Definitely.

Purple lips eased from their frown for a moment. "You're making me sound like I'll be similar to that spacer legend, McGrubber. Or maybe that was a holoshow." Shoulders shrugged and she grinned, sitting up a bit straighter. "Speaking of missions. I've been meaning to tell you but I'll be heading out at first light tomorrow morning. Not sure how long I'll be gone. It's a mission into First Order space."
 
He looked towards her as she mentioned the mission. Narrowing his eyes, the lightsaber set back down on the blanket.

"Mission in First Order space..." He chewed on the words, concerned over how soon he felt that this was occurring. Granted, he had zero sway over her comings and goings. In fact, that felt like a very common trend in recent history regarding most of the women that lived in the homestead.

She was a capable force user, that was clear. But he couldn't block out the feeling that maybe he shared some of her original concerns regarding control. "To what purpose?"

One would think he'd be more aware of the missions for the Galactic Alliance, given his rank. But it seemed now that it stood more as rusted badge than actual responsibility.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Legs slowly uncrossed and she stood, trying to wipe away the stubborn sand that refused to unstick from her clothing and skin. Myrtle-ellipses finally connected back to Gabe's. "Varonat. It's....kind of a personal mission. But I'll be meeting up with another group to go onto Anoat. War is coming and the Alliance is ready to strike back against the First Order after Barkesh and Mustafar," voice trailed off.

He probably already knew about the preparation for another battle. Another war. And she was just as conflicted. She was a healer by nature and taught to save lives - not take them. It was different to defend. This would be something else entirely.

Hand reached forward and the blanket suddenly wrapped up around the half-finished lightsaber - floating to her palm. "I'm sure you know but there are other groups going to Bespin, the Ison Corridor, and Hoth. Perhaps other places as well...," voice trailed off and for the first time, she felt a twist in her chest at the thought of potentially losing Gabe. "Have you been deployed anywhere?"
 
Varonat. Anoat. Well within First Order territory, though not so far out to be removed entirely from Alliance influence. He watched quietly as she maneuvered the lightsaber into the blanket, obviously feeling somewhat torn about her station. For someone that had once claimed to feel anxiety towards the force and potential impacts on her new body, she surely felt comfortable enough with it now to move forward with war.

​"Ah yes, the ever looming conflict. Varonat...I have not heard much of that place, I wonder what information it could hold." Omai Rhen had spoken of a First Order fortress deep within the sector, on Varonat. But the target was too deep and there wasn't quite enough information to make it a viable pivot point for any attack. He stood up quietly, dusting off his knees as he looked around.

​"Marshalls tend to find the place where they are most needed. Considering my work with SLEEG, I've been asked to lead the tactical charge into Bespin... " He couldn't recall if he had ever mentioned his rank to Taheera. Nevertheless, it was a dusty trophy once earned and now nothing more than hollow accolade. Though he was intent on return of value through active push in this effort.

​He let out a slow breath, recalling just the sort of plan that Anoat was turning into. It was just as risky, if not more so, then the plan for Bespin. "Anoat...are you sure you are ready for that? " A question born out of concern but intent on having her answer the question herself. Half the battle was belief in oneself, particularly in such trying times.

​[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

The healer deliberately chose not to expound anymore on what she was looking for on Varonat. It wasn't that she didn't trust Gabe, quite the opposite. It's just everything had a place and a time and this wasn't it.

Blanket of parts tucked beneath her arm as she began waking back with the force Master toward the homestead entrance. "A Marshall?" Lips twitched as her tone dipped into something a little lighter. "You've been holding out on me. What's SLEEG?"

She paused near one of the rock formations and quietly thought about Gabe's next question. Toe buried into the sand as her gaze fixated on the ground. "Are any of us ever truly ready for war?" Somber tone returned, any hint of joking gone from the depths of her Myrtle-ellipses as she connected with Gabe's searching gaze. And she wondered if she'd be able to stop transferring if something were to happen. And she wondered if it was possible to create weather within the artificial air of a space station.
 
"Sulon Law Enforcement Expeditionary Group...I guess it's a component of the Alliance Hounds?" He actually wasn't sure where they stood on that hierarchy. He guided them, softly, towards the path that would take them back to the homestead through the gardens and various other exterior ornaments. No reason to take the back entrance back into the workshop. It was likely getting close to meal time. "I formed it back when they put me in charge as Sheriff. Sort of my way of allowing Sulon to take part in the affairs of the Alliance while also remaining largely domestic."

He didn't make reply on the bit about being a Marshal. It wasn't important right now.

"Are any of us every truly ready for war?" He repeated her statement with a thoughtful gaze turned upwards, the sky drifting over them lazily. "Gods, I hope not." He returned with a smile. "Could you imagine the sort of people we might be, being ready for war?" He shook his head as he picked up the broom left in the sand for tending. He lifted a finger towards her, as if coming upon revelation."But...being ready for Anoat and being ready for war are two different things and can be mutually exclusive. Equipment and what not, do you have what you need?"

He left the commentary of Varonat far in their wake. He sensed it was a sensitive subject.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
 
[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

She laughed, the sound coming natural and a welcome carefree moment to the seriousness of their conversation and the upcoming reality. "Probably less time for sandwiches," she quipped on what kind of people they'd be, even if he meant the question as rhetorical. Stomach grumbled in response. Stars, she hadn't eaten since her hike that morning.

"I think so," she nodded. "I have my cortosis staff and standard blaster. Anything else," lips pursed briefly in thought. "I believe the alliance will supply."

She obviously didn't own a thin suit or armor weave herself. That stuff was costly. More so the armor weave or tarentatek hive.

"Hey so," was this the right moment? Maybe not. But she didn't know if she'd get another moment. In war, there were no guarantees of survival. She trusted in what the force had for her, even if that meant death.

Bag of parts were set down gently in the sand and before she lost her nerve, she stepped forward and wrapped the force Master up in a swift and strong hug, wedging her way in beneath the rake he was holding. Green-nose breathed in his scent. Any issues with personal space she felt before were mostly gone. That's what happened after sharing many a sandwich around a kitchen island.

Just as quickly, she released him and stepped back. "I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. No need to get cheesy," she cleared her throat. "Or make this more awkward. Just didn't know if I'd have another moment like this and didn't want to regret not saying it."

Gabe was quickly turning into family to her, whether he felt the same way or not.
 

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