Private The Long Way Home

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

So they got rushed in because they were a couple of rich girls. A frown crossed Gatz's face. Why was it that people like him always drew the short stick, even when it came to something like medical care? He was glad that the girls were getting help, and they should come first—they were both kids. They were the future. To put anyone else first was asinine.

But why was it always money and social standing that mattered the most?

"I grew up dirt poor." Gatz said quietly, "or, well, actually I grew up in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. But when I left the Order, and went back to live with my parents... we were destitute. My parents struggled just to put food on the table. Then mom got sick... and we struggled even more. And all the while, I watched the nobility of Naboo strut around in robes that cost more than my house. Not one of them gave a damn about people like us. Not one of them offered to help. Not a single one."

Gatz sighed. He'd always held anger for the rich, the upper class, the nobility. They were so wasteful, and so selfish. They were blind to the struggles of the average person—blind, or they just didn't care. And Gatz didn't know which was worse. He'd always been determined to hate people like them. If not for Briana, he still might.

"I'm glad your sister is getting helped so quickly. And I certainly don't blame you for the way my family struggled. But I'm sick and tired of watching people suffer because of class division."

But when Lossa was a topic of conversation, Gatz couldn't find it in himself to be angry. The woman was absolutely crazy, to be sure. Like, bonkers. But, like Cora said, absolutely lovely—with a smile that could have lit up even the darkest chasm. He just wished she smiled more often these days. The last time he'd been with her... she hadn't seemed the same carefree spirit he'd initially met.

But speaking of how they met...

"Yeah, I don't mind telling that story. It's one of the few good memories I have." Gatz tucked his hands into his pockets, "I organized a food drive in Theed, a little while back. She showed up with a whole trailer's worth of goods. I helped her unload it, and we sort of... hit it off, I guess. I got her to admit that I was pretty, I complimented her supermodel genetic makeup—you ever hear of a 'meet-cute?' Basically that, but imagine that I was way more dashing than the guys in the romcoms."

Totally way more dashing. And way less awkward. Definitely.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora listened quietly, nodding faintly as Gatz recounted his childhood. Ever since she'd first left Ukatis to train as a Jedi, the young aristocrat had been surprised by the number of people who shared similar stories with her. Many had come from poorer families or had no family at all. Some, like Makko, had found gang life to be the only semi-lucrative path available to them.

A somber note touched her face when Gatz mentioned his mother's illness and his family's struggle, contrasting sharply with the ruling class of Naboo. His distaste for the rich made sense in the context of his upbringing – it seemed that no matter where you went in the galaxy, commonfolk suffered beneath the heels of the wealthy. At worst it was malicious, and at best, the nobility were too unaware to see what they were doing.

"It is unjust." She agreed softly. "No one should have to suffer because of something they're born with or without."

It was a topic that made Cora feel awkward, but she wouldn't shy away from it as she had in the past. As much as she adored her homeworld, Ukatis had its flaws. Progress moved slowly on the little agrarian world that preferred traditional values. Values that served a few at the top and harmed others.

The shift in topic brought a slow, borderline goofy smile back to her face. "That is absolutely a meet-cute if I've ever heard one." Cora – Lady Velvet – considered herself something of an expert on those…not that she would invest any time into an explanation, of course. Still, she adored anything to do with love stories, fictional or otherwise. "I'm sure you were positively debonair."

There was an unmistakable levity to her teasing words, but soon the Padawan leaned back in contemplative silence.

"Have you considered returning to the temple, Gatz?" Her tone was cautious, wary of uncovering another painful memory for the pilot. It wasn't unheard of for a Jedi to leave the Order, but oftentimes, the circumstances were unpleasant.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"The galaxy spins because of credits." Gatz sighed, "hell, there was a time when all I cared about was money. So what right do I have to judge?"

He couldn't fix a galaxy obsessed with money. It was too big, and he was too small. Class division had existed long before he had, and it would continue to exist long after. So, maybe, instead of holding onto hate and anger over something he couldn't do anything about, he ought to instead focus that energy elsewhere. Somewhere, or something he could actually have an impact on.

Like today. Two lives saved. Mostly because of Cora, but he'd carried them. That counted for something, right?

Speaking of Cora, she seemed almost enraptured by his tale of meeting Lossa. And, frankly, it was a much happier story than what was currently happening here on Ukatis, so he couldn't blame her for finding enjoyment in it. It was certainly one of the few bright spots in his usually dim life. She totally didn't believe that he'd been suave though. He couldn't blame her: she knew Lossa, and probably knew her well enough to know that the Zeltron had basically steered their entire first meeting.

"Yeah, she uh, did most the charming. If we're being honest here."

But then Cora moved onto another topic, and one that had been on his mind for weeks: returning to the Order. That had a complicated answer. One he'd only ever shared in full with Valery, though he thought Briana had probably caught onto his issues with Jedi Shadows by now. He liked Cora, but he wasn't sure that he was comfortable telling her about his childhood trauma yet.

"I don't think there's a Jedi out there that would take me as their Padawan, Cora."

Another thing he'd considered. So it wasn't a lie, per se. But it did avoid addressing most of his actual problems with returning.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora could only murmur softly in agreement. Much like Gatz, she hadn't the right to judge.

Still, she held on to the faint hope that things on Ukatis could change. It would have to be slow and incremental to avoid civil unrest, but perhaps it could be done.

The mention of Lossa being the more charming of the two had her chuckling softly.

"I think it's a Zeltron thing. I was a little…wary of her at first, but she has this endearing way about her.”

For some reason, Gatz's belief that no Jedi would take him on as a Padawan had hurt. That feeling came as a surprise to Cora - perhaps she was warming up to him after all. Helping to pull her little sister from the rubble certainly made things easier.

"You may be right." She sighed wistfully.

"There are more Padawans in the Order than there are Masters and Knights available to teach them. I was fortunate enough to be in the right place and the right time when Master Noble was looking to take on another student."

That wasn't exactly what he was getting at, though.

"It can be daunting, not knowing if you'll be accepted." Her voice lowered in acknowledgment, perhaps recalling a distant memory where she was a fresh faced initiate with brighter eyes. Back when she was younger, more naive, and had a phenomenal arrogance that rubbed quite a few Jedi the wrong way.

"There are many successful Jedi who never had a dedicated Master. Jasper Kai'el , an accomplished Jedi Knight who sits on the council, had no Master as a Padawan." She smiled distantly at the thought of her friend.

"Did Lossa ever tell you about the time she picked up a stray from Denon and brought him to the temple? A young gangster with a neck tattoo and a horrible attitude."

Her smile grew a little more vibrant at her description of a younger Makko Vyres . There were still holes in Gatz's story, but she figured that the gang violence and spice slinging Makko had been involved with was similar enough on the morality scale as smuggling.

"He recently became a Jedi Knight. It wasn't easy by any means, but he did it." The pride in her voice was unmistakable, so bright it shone through in the fair features of her face.

"If you do choose to return, you won't be alone. Valery will be there, and I'd imagine Briana would too. And myself, of course. To keep you on your toes."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"I know there are more Padawans than Masters to train them." Gatz nodded, "but for me to come back to the Order, after everything I've done... to be rejected a Master would be proof that the Order would never really accept someone like me back. It'd be proof that I don't belong."

It was the one thing truly holding him back from returning: the idea that the Order wouldn't actually accept him. Oh, the Jedi believed in redemption. That was the ideal. But the Jedi were supposed to believe in many things, including a lack of attachments. Few held to those beliefs, even if the Code still outlined them.

They'd let him back in, because they were supposed to believe in second chances. That didn't mean they'd accept him. That didn't mean he'd really be a Jedi in anyone's eyes.

Still, the fact that Lossa had brought back a gangster to the Temple brought a small smile to her face. That sounded like her. But the fact that he'd made it to knighthood... somehow, it seemed like a farfetched dream. A one-off. One-in-a-million chance. And definitely not something Gatz could do.

"I can't teach myself, Cora. I tried, after I left. I didn't get anywhere," Gatz sighed and shook his head, "if not for Valery Noble and Amani Serys taking way too much time out of their busy lives to teach me, I wouldn't be capable of anything. If I'm coming back just to be denied a proper education... then why come back at all?"

And yet, so much of him yearned to try anyways. It was illogical. No Master in their right mind would choose him. And he wasn't capable of teaching himself about the Force. And if no one actually believed in him, then why waste his time? Every possible question had an answer that led him to believe that leaving the Order had been the right choice; that returning was the wrong choice.

So why couldn't he be convinced to refuse? Why was logic not enough to say 'no?'

"I'll think about it some more." Gatz acquiesced at last, "I won't make any promises, but... thank you. Few people are willing to believe in scum like me. It means a lot to me that you do."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"You wouldn't have to teach yourself." She said gently, but Gatz likely knew that. It was harder to train as a novice without the dedicated guidance of a Master - something she wouldn't really know much about, given how closely she'd studied under Valery.

"I wouldn't call someone who organizes food drives and pulls children out of collapsed buildings 'scum'."

Cora arched a brow, looking pointedly toward the pilot as she spoke. Whatever ills he had done seemed to weigh heavily on his mind. She hoped that they wouldn't drag him down so far that he couldn't see the own good that he'd done. To his acquiescence, she nodded solemnly.

"It has to be something you want, a choice only you can make. The Order will always be there no matter your decision."

Cora wasn't one for physical contact - being raised in the upper echelons of Ukatian society could be cold - but she placed a hand on Gatz's shoulder and offered him a brief squeeze and a small smile. Just as her hand fell away, two well-dressed women bustled into the waiting room.

The Jedi recognized them immediately. Elisabeta von Duschendorff, the mother of Lilette, was quick to engage with a staff member regarding her daughter's status. The other, a middle aged woman with tight brunette ringlets and bright red lipstick, did a double-take in their direction.

"Oh no," Cora whispered lowly, suddenly very keen on lifting the hood of her cloak back over her head. "That's-"

"Miss Ascania, dear? Is that you?"

Before she could dive into an explanation, Concetta von Berlioz had bustled over the quiet corner Cora and Gatz were in. The Padawan sucked her teeth before lowering her hood and fixing the woman with a gracious smile, a forced expression that still looked quite natural.

"Madame Berlioz." She tilted her head by way of greeting, a hand over her heart. "Have you and your sister come to check on Lilette?"

"Indeed dear, we have. Poor Elisabeta was just beside herself when she received the call." The noblewoman eyed Gatz the same way one would regard a starving nexu. "Is this one of your footmen?"

"No, Gatz is a friend of mine. He helped to rescue Lilette." Cora was quick to correct, which earned a decisive hum from Concetta.

"I see." She pursed her lips, expression quickly sobering. "Gracious, where are my manners - I'm so very sorry to hear of Prince Horace's passing. You must be quite broken up about it! Poor dear, to be widowed so young. And without children, too."

Cora's smiled tightened a hair as she dipped her head. "Thank you for your condolences, Lady Berlioz."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"The training is secondary," Gatz admitted just as softly, "being an unwanted Padawan—being unable to be accepted is what I wouldn't stick around for. I've fallen through the cracks of the Order before, because there was no Master when I needed one most. I won't let the Jedi do that to me a second time."

Conflict brewed within him: the desire to forgive battling with his deepest held anger. The boy who wanted to scream at the Order being strangled by the man who now knew he never deserved to be a part of it. But both man and boy alike were simply alone. Always alone. And Gatz wasn't going to return to the Jedi just to be as lonely as he'd been as a smuggler.

Gatz wanted to gently remind Cora that, yes, he was scum. He was not a good man, no matter how much work he'd put in this last year. But the gentle hand on his shoulder was enough to dissuade him. Maybe he wasn't good... but maybe he wasn't scum anymore either. Cora was right: that man wouldn't have organized a food drive for his people, or risked being crushed by rubble for someone else.

Something warm bloomed in his chest.

"I think you're going to be one hell of a Jedi, Cora." He smiled at her.

But then the atmosphere of the room changed, and Cora tried to hide under her hood. A moment later, Gatz understood why: two... aristocrats practically busted into the room—one of the girls' parents he presumed—and one of them both spotted and recognized the affluent Padawan. She came sauntering over, and she projected an air of self-importance.

And then asked if he was a servant.

The fear that forever beat in his heart blossomed into anger, and the warm feeling Cora had placed in his chest began to scorch him from within. He'd saved this woman's niece, and here she was staring at him like he was some circus freak. Talking about him like he wasn't even here. This was what he hated about nobles: the air of superiority, unearned, like everything else they had.

Gatz was half a second away from barking at the woman, and reminding her what manners were really like, when he remembered that Cora was here incognito. Making a scene would draw attention to her. Drawing attention to her was exactly what she was trying to avoid, with that cloak.

He shoved his anger down into that bottle with all the other emotions he didn't allow himself to process. At the same time as he allowed his blood to cool, Gatz learned that Cora was married? Nope, widowed. At her age?! He wasn't significantly older than her, but he did have a few extra years, and he couldn't imagine being married even now. Much less watching his partner die. That must have been horrible for her—

That tight smile wasn't one of a grieving woman. And that was weird. But that was a problem for later: right now, Cora seemed uncomfortable, and Gatz came to the sudden realization that that really bothered him.

"Pardon us, Madame Berlioz," Gatz plastered on his best fake smile, and did his best to imitate Briana's manner of dealing with the aristocracy of Naboo, "but Lady Ascania has an appointment to keep. It wouldn't do for her to keep them waiting. We were merely dallying until someone arrived for your niece."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora blinked, consciously holding her face steady in order to keep her eyebrows from rising up towards her hairline. Gatz's tone had shifted, sounding surprisingly posh.

He spoke well enough for Concetta to give him another judgmental look, though she appeared more surprised and less disgusted this time around.

"It was good to see you again, Lady Berlioz. Please, give my regards to Lady Duschendorff and dear Lilette when she wakes up." Cora responded evenly with a smooth tilt of her head. "Come, Gatz. We mustn't be late."

Once they were out the door and around a corner, Cora heaved an audible exhale. While not visibly distressed, the Padawan had a sobered quality about her, exacerbated by the way she gazed wearily into the distance.

Everything around her seemed suddenly too familiar. The heaviness in the air, the curdling words of the aristocracy, even the crumbling landscape was still recognizable in spots. Together, they conjured terrible memories that only her unfocused vision could see. The wedding, Horace’s shadow forever looming above her, the gently crackling fire in the corner of his study as he held a hot iron poker to her skin.

No. Don't do that.

A few breaths later and Cora snapped back into the moment, clarity returning to her eyes. She gave Gatz a weak smile.

"I'm sorry for how she treated you. She's awful. Even worse to deal with at court, but still." The Padawan shook her head. "Thank you for the save."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

The honeyed words that slipped past his lips felt like a betrayal of who he was at his core. It didn't matter how tightly bound his mind was to Briana's—he was a street kid, not some lavish aristocrat. He'd grown up in a house that was practically the size of a large shed. Hell, Bri's closet was probably bigger than his childhood home.

But if a betrayal of his being was what it took to get Cora away from this woman... well, he supposed there were worse things to sacrifice.

With Lady Berlioz handled, Cora led them out the door, presumably headed in the direction of their faux appointment with a faux individual. She stopped, though, when they rounded the corner of the clinic. She let out a heavy breath, and though she didn't look out of sorts, he could feel her disturbance through the Force.

"Cora?" But he got no response, and instead, she simply continued to stare off into the heart of her ruined city.

Gatz leaned forward a tick, angling himself to get a better look at Cora's face. Only then did she seem to realize that she was in a trance. He saw the light of recognition in her eyes, and she turned to him to apologize for the manner in which Lady Berlioz had dealt with him. Whatever she'd been thinking about before that... wasn't his business, unless she wanted it to be.

Force knew he got lost in his own thoughts often enough, too.

"Cora, I've been stabbed by a man who was like a father to me," Gatz snorted, "so being treated like the newest exhibit at a zoo, by some snooty woman I don't even know, is nothing. And you don't have to apologize on her behalf. You did absolutely nothing wrong."

Of course, in the moment he'd been livid. But now, out of that building and away from the situation, it seemed like such a silly thing to feel anger over.

"Really, I was more worried about her drawing attention to you."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The mention of Gatz being stabbed by a father figure earned him a wide-eyed stare in disbelief, one which quickly collapsed into something more somber. From the bits and pieces that she'd gathered, it seemed as though Gatz had one tough life. It was good that through it all, he'd managed to retain – or rediscover – kindness.

"That doesn't make it right." She protested softly. "Even if you've been through something much worse before, that doesn't mean that things can't hurt now."

Her brow creased as one particular line continued to ring through her head. You did absolutely nothing wrong.

Cora bit her lower lip. She had done something wrong, something that led to her needing to act covertly in the first place. While she was warming to Gatz and feeling as though he might be owed an explanation at this point as he'd helped her get to Ukatis discreetly, few knew the truth behind why she'd left in the first place. Rumors swirled, of course. One of them was true.

"I'm not," Cora shook her head. "I'm not a good person, Gatz." Her lips parted as if to further the explanation, but then closed in frustration. She wasn't sure how much she should say, or even how to even say it. Everyone involved had known, so she'd never needed to put it into words. "I left after my husband died – the official story was that I went back to Coruscant in mourning. But really," She took a deep breath, keeping her expression even and braced for judgement.

"I was exiled."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

No, it wasn't right. But it was deserved. Cora didn't understand that. All she knew about him was that he used to run spice, and now he was trying to do better. She didn't realize that the bar was so low that he could step over it. He had done a lot of shitty things during his time in Hutt space, and those choices would always haunt him.

He was... maybe not scum anymore. But he had been, once. The bad he'd done hadn't been erased just because he chose to do good now.

It was then that Cora claimed not to be a good person. Gatz almost scoffed. He managed to hold himself back, only because he didn't want to deride Cora when she was clearly trying to get something she struggled with off her chest. And, being exiled from her homeworld... that was pretty rough. Even he couldn't say he'd ever had to bear that burden.

Gatz was quiet for a moment, as he considered what she'd told him. He mulled over the things she could have done to get herself exiled. Cora sat there, clearly waiting for him to pass judgement. But what right did he have to pass judgement on anyone?

He looked into her eyes for a moment—and in any other situation, he might have been captivated by their beauty—before he looked out to the rubble, unable to look a good woman in the eyes any longer.

"There was a man named Kreth Garr," Gatz started slowly, "he was the son of a slaver—a man who I used to smuggle spice for. About a year ago, I was at his father's palace on Lok. Kreth was throwing a party, and I was there to... well, the details don't matter. I was there on business, trying to do some good for the first time in six years. Well, naturally, a palace needs servants, and a slaver only has one kind of servant."

Gatz let out a long breath, trepidation creeping up on him.

"A lot of those servants were women. And while I was there, I found out that Kreth had been regularly abusing them. Abusing them in every way a man can abuse a woman." Fury ignited in him them, burning so fiercely that it made his anger at Lady Berlioz look like a wet match, "so I marched up to his private room. Claimed I was on business for his father, and his thugs let me right in."

Gatz turned back to Cora then.

"I pointed my blaster at him. Demanded answers. I didn't like what I heard. So I shot him three times in the chest. Murdered him right then and there. He was an evil man, and he got what he deserved. But it was murder all the same."

He turned away again, somehow feeling lighter for having admitted his darkest secret. It was a story he'd only ever told to Valery, and she had tried to use the details to exonerate him, and claim he'd fired in self-defense. Kreth had reached for his weapon before Gatz fired, but Gatz had leveled his blaster at the man first.

That wasn't self-defense.

"I don't know what you did to get exiled, but I know you're not a bad person, Cora." He shook his head, "but I am."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

While Cora struggled to put the story of her exile into words – if that was even what she wanted to do – a few beats of silence passed between them. Gatz's voice broke the quiet and she looked almost startled, but quickly focused on the pilot as he began to relay a painful memory. Without knowing it, tension bled from her shoulders at having the spotlight momentarily shifted.

To hear that Gatz had formerly worked with a slaver was alarming, even if it made sense given the picture of himself he'd painted. Smugglers were smugglers because there'd never be a shortage of illegal goods to ferry to buyers. She listened closely, a little relieved to hear that he hadn't been transporting slaves.

Cora's eyes flared sharply when Gatz mentioned the enslaved woman and alluded to what had been done to them. Her breathing paced a heartbeat quicker, and she felt the anger that suffused the air between them almost as if it were her own. She could almost hear one, two, three blaster shots as they ripped through the chest of a faceless man. The Padawan swallowed thickly, taking a few long moments to absorb the story and gather her thoughts.

"Right or wrong, that is a lot to go through." Her soft murmur would carry easily in the relative silence of what had once been a bustling city. Cora faced Gatz with a grim demeanor, but there was an earnest empathy to the way she spoke. "It's never an easy thing to take a life, no matter how deserved. You made a hard choice that day, and you recognize the weight of it. If I had been in your shoes, I might've made the very same one."

Leaning her weight against the wall they'd stopped to rest against, Cora closed her eyes, tilted her head back until she could feel brick, then sighed.

"It was an arranged marriage. I didn't want it, but I thought that I was doing the right thing for my family. For my people. What young noblewoman doesn't dream of marrying a Prince?" Her brow scrunched, recalling how desperately she'd tried to rationalize a terrible thing. "It was difficult, but I left the Jedi to do my duty to Ukatis. To do what I thought was right."

She paused so that her teeth could bite down on the inside of her cheek, an attempt to stem the emotional tide that surged within her.

"Horace was a…deeply unpleasant man." Cora's voice lowered to a halting whisper as her throat tightened. "One night, he had his hands around my neck." She lifted one hand of her own, ghosting fingertips across her throat. The bruises may have faded, but she could recall the choking sensation that had made her panic. "So I…" The Padawan extended both hands out in front of her suddenly "…pushed him out the window. The three days I spent in a cell, waiting execution, had been the most peace I'd had in a while."

Cora smiled, bitterly, and wiped a pair of stray tears from either cheek with her crooked finger. Her eyes reopened, glassy and red.

"Valery and a few trusted friends saved me. They were able to negotiate my sentence down to exile. I stayed away from Ukatis until I couldn't."

Her gaze swept past Gatz and briefly over the landscape. Even though she'd been present for the Mandalorian onslaught, it hadn't been enough to save Ukatis from destruction. A drop in a bucket, and her attention shifted back to the pilot.

"It didn't feel good to kill my husband but it was a relief to be free of him, even if I was going to lose my life. Still, it was a murder. It's not the sort of thing you ever forget."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Gatz waited for the inevitable disgust and rejection that was sure to follow his story. When he'd told Cora that he'd been a smuggler, she'd nearly dismantled him then and there. Now he'd just told her that he was a murderer. Far worse than any odd scoundrel. And maybe his reasons would earn a small amount of sympathy, but they didn't validate the act.

He'd taken a life unjustly. In a fit a rage, sure, but as a former Jedi Youngling he was all too aware of the dangers of acting in anger. He should have been better.

And yet, instead of condemnation, he was offered empathy instead. That felt... wrong, somehow. Cora should have been tearing him a new one. But her acceptance of his sin was a relief all the same. An undeserved relief, but Gatz was selfish enough not to speak up about that.

But as he listened to Cora's story about her husband, that relief vanished. The concept of arranged marriage wasn't surprising to him. Many nobles on many worlds still practiced it, including a select few families on his own homeworld of Naboo. He wasn't fond of the practice. The idea of Cora not getting a choice in who she married was cruel enough on its own.

Then came the reveal that her piece of shit husband—who Gatz decided he would never grant the respect of using that filth's name—was an abuser. Not unlike Kreth, only his abuses had been more targeted, and more personal. Gatz had to swallow down his rage, before he dared to open his mouth and speak to Cora. Lest she think his anger was directed at her.

"You didn't murder him," Gatz was quick to interject, "you saved yourself from your abuser. Fuck whoever sentenced you."

What Cora had given her deadbeat husband was a mercy. What Gatz would have given him was far, far worse. And if Gatz ever met who decided that she deserved death... well, he hoped he was strong enough to resist giving them the same.

"You deserve so much better than that. And don't ever think that you don't." Gatz shook his head, "you're not a bad person, Cora. You're a good woman who was forced into a shit situation. It isn't murder to free yourself of a man who was hurting you, no matter what your people might think."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"It was still a murder."

It sounded less like a protest and more like a shameful admission. Cora managed a bitter smile. Gatz was not the only person who'd defended her actions, but the notion of being an abuse victim - despite how clear cut the situation appeared to many people - disturbed her deeply.

There were old adages in High Ukatian that solemnly acknowledged the suffering of women as a necessity for the greater good. It was hard to unlearn everything she'd been taught in her first sixteen years.

Cora had quietly begun to accept that perhaps she was traumatized, and she had been a helpless child who'd suffered hurt and humiliation underneath a powerful man. It was ludicrously painful, but freeing in a certain sense.

Gatz thought that she was a good person, and Cora wouldn't protest further. Other things she had done, particularly regarding the Sith, were less of a sob story more open to interpretation. It was more recent, more private, and still causing shockwaves among certain people she held dear.

"I won't allow myself to be put in that position again." Some of the sourness eased from her expression. Pushing herself back from the wall by her shoulder, Cora's posture sat more evenly. "And I won't allow the same thing to happen to my sisters."

A difficult promise to make with how her father kept them out of reach. Once again, her gaze wandered from the war-torn landscape back to Gatz.

"What will you do once you leave Ukatis?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"It was still a murder."

For the love of—she sounded like him. Was this what it was like to deal with him? Was this what Valery had to suffer through? To constantly put himself down, refuse to see any good in what he did, to reject the notion that maybe he wasn't a bad person? If so, he really owed the Sword an apology. How could Cora lift a whole building to save two people, and still insist she was a bad person for saving herself?

He thought about what Valery might say in this situation. Then he discarded that immediately—Valery always cared, but rarely knew the right thing to say to truly comfort someone. She fixed problems not people. He knew that all too well. So he thought about what Briana might say, but that could go one of two ways. Most of the time, she was just like Valery. But sometimes she was softer. He discard that too, oddly enough.

Instead, Gatz thought about all the things he'd wanted to hear. All the things he needed to hear, but never had, not even from Valery.

"Cora, look at me," Gatz took her gently by the shoulders, careful to make his touch and voice as soft as a feather, "I'm not exactly an authority on morality, but I do know this: it is not wrong to protect yourself from someone who is hurting you. If you hadn't, you might not have been here today to save your sister. And a cruel man would still be in this world, hurting someone else."

But at least she was determined to never put up with that again. That brought Gatz some small relief. Which, that in itself was funny. It was amazing how an hour ago, he thought she was some snooty brat. Now, he wanted to shoot everyone and everything that had ever hurt her. Maybe that was the hallmark of how lonely he truly was: that he formed attachments so quickly.

He'd have made a terrible Jedi. At least, a terrible classic one. So Gatz released his gentle grip on Cora, hoping that—just maybe—she'd start to see herself in a better light.

But then she had a question for Gatz, and he wasn't sure of the answer.

"I don't know." He turned to look at the ravaged city before him, "but I know that I can't ignore what the Mandalorians are doing anymore. Not after seeing this."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Gatz taking a hold of her shoulders, gentle and respectful as his touch was, startled Cora. It was the deeply earnest expression and tone that kept her from instinctively wrenching herself away, eyes wide as he spoke to her.

The murder of Horace had caused ripples, leaving the throne without an heir and King Cholmondeley's position unstable. It was a complex situation, but Cora did have a tendency to overcomplicate things. Maybe Gatz just didn't understand the role of a noble, or maybe things really were that simple.

The Jedi had been deeply concerned about her marriage. That concern was founded. If anyone else had been in her situation, Cora would've expressed the same concerns. Perspective was a funny thing.

She nodded, once.

"And a cruel man would still be in the world, hurting Ashla knows how many others if you hadn't acted."

He was right, though. The thought of Horace hurting someone else filled her with a chaotic sort of anger, especially knowing the terrible designs he'd had for her sister on the night she'd pushed him.

Gatz's hands fell away, his gaze shifting across the dilapidated landscape.

"I'm going to stay for a while, I think." As long as she didn't cause trouble, Cora imagined that the crown wouldn't bother her. They had much bigger problems to worry about, and she'd violated her exile during the Mandalorian invasion already.

"I won’t ask you to remain on Ukatis to take me back to Coruscant. I'm not sure when I'll leave. But…"

Cora turned her gaze over from the rubble and back to Gatz.

"…there is a lot of work to be done here."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Maybe Cora was right. If he hadn't pulled that trigger, Kreth would have had another year to abuse and kill. What he'd done was murder, no question. But in doing so, he'd stopped far more deaths than he'd caused. It still wasn't right. Yes, there were some people that simply couldn't be redeemed. But he still had to try. He hadn't even given Kreth a chance.

And yet... more than a dozen women were safe from his slimy hands now. Forever. It may not have been right, and he still had to be better than that, but maybe he could still take solace in knowing his actions had saved people.

"Maybe we're both right."

Cora stood next to him, their eyes picking her ruined home apart. Gatz had no ties here, but that didn't make the wreckage any less horrifying. All he had to do was pretend that this was Theed, and he could imagine the hurt Cora must be feeling. Knowing that her people were struggling after a monstrous assault. Knowing that she had been unable to stop this. Knowing that... people she'd known had perished.

If it had been Theed, he'd have been a wreck.

She stated her intentions to stay longer, and help. Gatz didn't object. Valery might have, considering Cora had been locked up once already. But Cora could make her own decisions. And... it was a good one. One Valery would be proud of, even if she was concerned about the idea of her Padawan sticking around.

Gatz was confident that Cora could find a ride back to Coruscant. But before he agreed to leave without her, something occurred to him: helping people. Wasn't that the whole point of everything he'd done in the year since he'd met Valery? Not salvation, or redemption, or even just being better. Just... helping someone in need, one problem at a time. Like any decent person would do. Like a Jedi would do.

The people of Ukatis were in need. And he wasn't doing anything tomorrow night.

"…there is a lot of work to be done here."

"Well," Gatz smiled at Cora, "then we'd best get started."