First Reply The Girl from Exegol

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Exegol debris field
Wearing: Armor

Pain rippled in the force.

It was a grief so powerful that it could be felt on neighboring worlds by those with a well developed sense.

That faint echo marked the storm's edge, but it's eye was Exegol, and the closer one came, the more unbearable the suffering grew. Anathemous sat in the epicenter, meditating upon the ruins of a temple left drifting on tectonic plates long since separated from the broken world below. Stone beneath her, stars above her, she had stayed here in the vacuum for more days and more nights than she knew, secured only by what gravity remained and sustained only by a droid who routinely brought cannisters of new air from deeper within the shattered ruins.

The dark energies of this place amplified it's potency, but the anger and sorrow were hers alone.

And it was only a matter of time before it drew someone in.

The young Darth was counting on it, looking for something.

Or rather, waiting for something.

OOC:
Preference for folks I haven't written with yet or in a long time <3

​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Grief in Orbit

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

He was simply there.

Among the drifting stone and ash, where Exegol’s bones hung heavy in the dark, the blindfolded figure stood with soft breath and silent step, barefoot on the stone, wearing robes and seemingly uncaring of his exposure to the atmosphere–or lack thereof. No light guided him here, only an ache in the Force; raw and thrumming like a dirge in the deep.

He did not come to fight. Nor to judge.
He came because someone was hurting.

The soles of his feet touched the fragment’s surface with soft pads, his long walking stick held not as weapon but companion. The windless vacuum swirled faint debris past his cloak as he slowly approached the meditating figure, not disturbing the silence, but joining in it.

He knelt across from her, just outside reach. No barrier raised. No questions forced. No words to cause alarm. Just a presence that has gently trespassed in a place that find his kind unwelcome.

And if the woman had words to share, he would hear them.

A Miraluka, if the blindfold did not give it away - he had seen the ripples in the force long before felt them - in that quiet way of seeing the galaxy that belonged to his people.

He lowered his pike beside him and rested both hands over his knees. A presence of warmth. Patience without demand.

If this is a trap... then let it be. She is in pain.

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Exegol debris field
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Aadihr Lidos

She felt his presence, as he did hers.

The feeling crept along her periphery, not as a cautious advance upon the dueling field, but the soft step of a man making himself home wherever he was found.

Small stones seemed to float higher off the ground with each step towards her, as they had done for days, but the Sith did not move. Not as he approached on the horizon and not as he neared her space. She had no reason to strike, not yet. The light here may be drowned by so many terrible things, but his presence felt as though the smallest hole in that curtain of malicious intent left by so many ghosts.

It was not until he sat that her crimson visor slowly tilted to look up at him.

"...you shouldn't be here." she warned, her voice small but bitingly distorted.

"It's not safe."

The anger towards his presence was subtle at most, a byproduct of their conflicting faiths. But somewhere underneath it all, one may find genuine concern.

A beat passed, another tilt of her head as she examined him with passing curiosity. Bare faced in the vacuum, no suit to prevent him from freezing over, it was a wonder the man was alive at all.

Some trickery, perhaps, or a power she was yet to learn.

"Or are you here...?"

​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

The visor turned. The words came.
Almost tinged with concern.
A warning, yes—but not dismissal.

Aadihr's breath remained gentle as she spoke, though there was no air to draw. Faint ripples in his cloak, the glint of starlight on blindfolded features, the ghost of a heartbeat in his throat, his presence in the force, the dust displaced all seemed to provide an answer to her question.

Yet the truth remained in contradiction to the senses.

"No," he said softly, after a pause. Not physically.
"And yes."
Emotionally present. Perhaps more cryptic than necessary, but it was not untrue.

He didn't clarify how. He didn’t name the technique. Those details didn’t matter. Her pain was why he projected himself, why he de-anchored his perception from his physical self to accompany the illusion. He was here in every way that mattered.

But was she?

He looked at her without eyes, the blindfolded gaze carried the question silently. Not of accusation nor pity, but a soft curiosity. An indiscriminate concern.

He turned his palms upward, resting them on his knees, fingers open, a relaxed and welcoming posture.

"You brought turmoil to a tumultuous place. A slow fraying amplified by history. It's... Something difficult for me to ignore. Even if I shouldn't be here."

"Should you?"

Another question, asked without judgement, assuming no context, making space if she chose to fill it.

The void remained unchanged around them. The ancient shards were still cold, still cruel. On this particular rock, however, he sat as if he had all the time in the galaxy.
He did not call her Sith. Did not invoke light or dark.
Just focused on the parts of her signature in the force that were her.

If she asked him to go, he would.
If she asked him to stay, he would not leave.

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Exegol debris field
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Aadihr Lidos

Should she?

The young woman went silent for a time, unsure how to respond.

Where she went had never been a question of should or should not, only "what do I gain from being here?". It had been this way since her master ordered her into her first tomb, and continued to be, even now when she had some choice over her destination.

She looked up at the stars as though they might answer.

"Perhaps."

A cryptic answer to a cryptic question.

"I needed a place where I may feel, freely, without consequence."

Even now, no longer alone, she was trying to rein it in, to hide such vulnerability from this stranger as though that were a strength. But for all her pretending and all the steel between them, it could not hide the way her voice strained.

"I knew it would summon something eventually, but I wasn't expecting to reach so far as the Jedi."

She sighed anxiously, fogging the corner of her visor.

"There is no ill intent in my being here, if that's what you're wondering. Not today."

So long as he would not ask her to leave,
neither would she ask it of him.

​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

The Miraluka let the silence linger. He felt no need to rush her – no need to disrupt the quiet pace she had set for herself. Yes, he intruded, but he did not wish to disrupt.
Her presence grew guarded, as one does when observed by a stranger. He waiting in understanding.

When he did speak, it was low and even.

"In that case, I apologize for the intrusion. While I would encourage you to continue despite my presence, I doubt doing so would actually assuage your reservations."

"I could also try to assure you I that I intend to bring no consequences, my own intention matters little, especially in places like this."

He tilted his head slightly, not to analyze her, but to understand her shape in the Force. Raw, storm-etched, but seemingly intact.

"It was pain, not danger, that lured me here. It carries perhaps further than you expected – we are not so far from Alliance space that I could not see it. I simply followed it. I do not wish to scrutinize your intent, your purposes are your own."

He was careful not to suggest that she needed help, only to offer it – it was a need for him, a compulsion he couldn't deny.

"You don’t need to explain yourself to me, but I’m grateful you spoke anyway."

Silently, he invited her to speak further, if she desired. The kind of gesture that had no obligation behind it only quiet empathy.

If she wished to be seen, she would be.

Carefully, he asked a probing question – no a probing statement, an open question.

"I am... saddened to hear that you must keep your emotions guarded. To avoid consequences, I mean... Is this a result of forced restriction, or of circumstance?"

A vague enough question, intended to leave space for her to respond to her comfort level, or not at all. Were others enforcing this upon her, directly or indirectly, or was this an expectation she set upon herself?

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Exegol debris field
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Aadihr Lidos

"Mm." she nodded slowly.

His apology was accepted, but so too was his presence.

Her shape in the force, as he was allowed to observe, was deceptively erratic. It was ancient and young all at once, frayed not like delicate cloth but iron worn by time. In truth she was multiple presences shackled to one being, one will strong enough to bind things for older and far worse than herself. But in this moment, with the wall so brittle, it was possible to see her beneath it all.

Hopelessly lost, yet stubbornly marching toward some unseen destination.

Ultimately, this was just a much needed pit stop.

"You don’t need to explain yourself to me, but I’m grateful you spoke anyway."

She turned to look at him again, so used to demands and explanations, problem child lord that she was. The gesture was not so confusing, just... different. A change of pace.

An invitation to set that pace, it seemed.

"I am... saddened to hear that you must keep your emotions guarded. To avoid consequences, I mean... Is this a result of forced restriction, or of circumstance?"

"Circumstance." she chose to answer.

"There are people back home who depend on me. My vulnerability is their vulnerability."

Her voice shook a little, thinking of those in her care, hidden from the world.

"Our enemies must believe we have no such weakness, that we are better, stronger."

​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

He nodded once. Her answer was clear, he would remain for now. He remained still, placing himself in the mindset he imagined one must have if beset on all sides by observant predators – whether it be a literal or figurative pit of vipers.

The Force around her was knotted, layered with echoes and masks. He was careful not to prod or reach, to betray the small trust that was shared by allowing him to remain. He would not speculate nor assume detail – simply listen to the present. To the part of her that had chosen to speak. After a quiet moment, his voice returned. Low, as before, but now with the texture with softly exploring thought behind it.

At the very least, he found a sliver of light in her statement.
"In that case, I’m glad you have a home and people worth protecting. And I am glad that those people have a protector who puts thought into their perception like yourself."

He stopped there, assuming no further about her home or people. He would not ask prying information, nor details that could present a threat, real or perceived. Aadihr understood he would typically be considered an enemy presence, but the dichotomy of Light and Dark, the espionage between the order and the alliance had no place for him here.

Here, a soul was hurting, and he had capacity to share in that suffering. That is all that mattered to the Miraluka.

"And I can understand why you feel the need to armor your spirit, to project no weakness, lest opportunistic scavengers target your home. "

He didn’t challenge her reasoning. Didn’t try to parse right from wrong. There were no solutions in his tone. His wording, however, was very intentional. Avoiding words like power and enemies, instead relying on metaphor to keep to the emotional truth of what this helmeted woman shared, to keep the space free from edges where ideological and cultural differences could corrode the conversational space.

He aimed to cultivate an open space, carved out in words that asked permission before they stepped closer.

"May I ask..." he began, "How long have you carried that responsibility?"

His head tilted slightly—not in examination, but in quiet empathy.

"When you think of those people, those who rely on your strength, do you feel that burden? Does protecting them bring you pride?"

He let the question sit, keeping a neutral tone. He did not ask to compare the burden to the pride, not to elicit a risk/reward, analysis, but instead to coax out her emotional landscape, to better empathize with her reality. Not to dig for answers, just impressions

"Do your people see the burden you carry, or must you hide it from them as well? Do you think they see you as a protector, or a symbol? Or simply as yourself?"

No judgment. No pressure. Only an offering of reflection, made with gentle hands.

He had no desire to drag answers from her. Only to give her the chance to speak with no consequence. If it helped her understand herself better, if he lessened the suffering of another one iota, that was enough. It was already enough, there was always value in the attempt.

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Exegol debris field
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Aadihr Lidos

It was a noble cause, she supposed.

And more than most Sith would give to protect their charge.

But she wasn't doing it for those Sith. Just the ones who believed, as she believed, in something different.

This man seemed remarkably understanding, certainly for one of his order. She dared not speak it aloud, but he reminded her of a few others she'd met over the years. It... was a shame they were on opposite sides.

But she knew why that could never change.

"May I ask..." he began, "How long have you carried that responsibility?"

More questions followed, each making her stop and think about the course of her life.

The silence stretched longer than before.

Her masked head tilted again, with the uncertainty of one unused to such introspection, of one who preferred to keep busy rather than allow these thoughts to catch up with her.

Even if, eventually, it led to a place like this.

"A year or two, I think...?" she questioned, as much as stated.

It wasn't long, but neither was it uneventful.

When you think of those people, those who rely on your strength, do you feel that burden? Does protecting them bring you pride?"

"Every day." she nearly whispered.

The girl had not always been a good leader. She knew there were times when she'd acted on her interest alone, in conflict with her people. And yet, so too had she sacrificed in their name. The ever precarious balance performed by idealists, losing themselves in a world of rugged individualism.

"Pride has nothing to do with it. It just... feels wrong to do otherwise."

"Do your people see the burden you carry, or must you hide it from them as well? Do you think they see you as a protector, or a symbol? Or simply as yourself?"

And finally, silence again.

Then a sinking in her stomach.

And the subtle sting of anger she'd been suppressing since he arrived.

"...just the one, now."

She pulled her knees in close, resting her chin atop them.

"The others are gone."

​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Clothes, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

He intentionally remained still when she pulled her knees in. He did not speak immediately when she gave that final, aching answer. He simply remained with her—present, calm, and utterly still. It was a challenging thing to voice painful truths, and he sought to give her no cause to regret sharing such information. By Aadihr's measure, it took strength to admit something undesirable, to accept it as part of your world view instead of avoiding it or living in denial.

Thus, he made no shift in posture to acknowledge the pain from her body language or voice. It was a vulnerable emotion, yes, but it was not exposing a vulnerability. It was opening a wound, the first step in removing the splinter. It would be painful, the infection must still be fought after, but it would eventually heal.

Not rushing to fill the silence was the only kindness that mattered right now.

He could feel the storm in her shifting—tight, brittle, tired. The edge of a blade that had been held aloft far longer than it was meant to be.

When he did speak, his voice was low, barely above the hush of cosmic drift. To ask why the others have left was to invite sorrowful rumination, instead he rephrased the question to focus on what was still here:

"Then that one must matter deeply."

He left it at that. No probing for names. Her word was more than enough. She was enough. No further speculation.
A soft breath followed. A wordless attempt at conveying empathy – calling it understanding would be a disservice to the complexities of another sentient life.

"When the burden becomes heavy, it is not a failing to feel its weight. If it didn't weigh on you, it wouldn't be a burden. If guarding your emotions wasn't a burden, would you truly be protecting them? Would you still be yourself?"

The distinction between a protector and a tyrant didn't seem lost on this woman. He might have presumed too much – but Aadihr was not perfect, no one was. He accepted the potential misstep and simply hoped that the more speculative question encouraged further introspection, and not defensive reaction.

Still, He gave no reassurance, made no accusation. Just space to feel, if she chose. Or not. Whether it ended in sorrow or fury, or indifference, removing the splinter, identifying the root of the turmoil, was the goal now.

He didn’t reach further just get, didn’t ask more. Instead, he bowed his head slightly and provided an observation, the first opinion he allowed himself to speak.

"You’ve given more of yourself than most would. You need not explain nor justify it, but it has also not gone unrecognized."

It was not a simple platitude implying that she was appreciated and noticed by those around her. It was a truth that here, in this moment, he saw the extent that she was to go to by the pain she shared. Regardless of what species, ideology, or alignment, she had put in effort enough to stretch herself thin emotionally, Aadihr saw it. Even if the recognition of a stranger meant nothing to the one who seemed in mourning, it was, at the very least, true.

Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Exegol debris field
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Aadihr Lidos

A part of her felt ashamed to be seen like this.

For all the armor, the muscle both natural and artificial tightly bound in this suit, all the power she hid behind, Kaila was still curled into herself like that little girl laid at her master's feet so long ago.

Perhaps this stranger was the perfect guest then, someone she may might never see again.

Someone who saw her, without consequence.

"Then that one must matter deeply."

"More than anyone may know."

There was no hesitance this time. Even the storm shifted for a moment, flickered with a conviction which had carried her through certain death, once.

She only hoped that Tamsin Graves understood how important she was.

That she mattered more than the weight of guiding her.

A sentiment validated by the stranger, it seemed.

"You’ve given more of yourself than most would. You need not explain nor justify it, but it has also not gone unrecognized."

"I suppose I should be glad that someone sees."

"Ironic, for a blind man."

She didn't laugh, just briefly glanced at the blindfold. But the joke was there, even if dressed in melancholy.

Kaila turned to the stars again, and for the first time since the stranger's arrival, closed her eyes. She sighed, causing more fog to blur her visor.

The girl still had more to give, she knew this because her battle was so very far from over, even if it had already taken so much. Would she be made to fight it alone some day? the thought terrified her, with the same intensity that this most recent loss confused and angered her.

This time she would ask a question.

One she'd asked a few, but never lightly.

"Do you believe in fate?"

​