The Mandalorian and the Jedi

[Alexandra Feanor]

[member="Yasha Cadera"]


Alexandra listened to the woman and soon an interesting question was posed to her taht made her look back.

"So, in that line of thought, should the Krath be wiped out for once trying to take over the galaxy? Should the Mandalorians? Simply because one was born under one banner, do they deserve death alongside these entities? Jedi or Sith, are simply reactions to something we are born with as beings within this galaxy, to this connection to eachother. The Force is not something Genetic, anyone can be found to have it at any point in their lives, and with the opening of the Netherworld and its connection to our physical world that is ever more true." She smiled as the temple began to show in the distance, only a few minutes more now till they reached it.

"It is likely that at one point, Carnifex may have been a good person, and that had he not been raised under the chains of the Sith, he could have been someone who's kindness is true. That universe is not ours though, so we have come to have this reality infront of us Yasha. I am no different, and have caused death in my misguidance when I stood with the Sith." She had been the reason for many deaths in the past, her actions having brought others to power and to kill without reaction.

There were times when she thought that her new path might do no different, but now she had choice as to her future and her actions, instead of being driven and corrupted by some unseen entity. The light promised her that her actions were her own.

"I ask that we conclude this conversation for now though. My home is a refuge from the worries of the Galaxy and such discussion is not for this place. You should find peace and yourself here, not look towards the past for answers as to why it had happened the way it did. Nor the future to solve the issues you worry about. My home is for the present, and for the healing that must happen for you to be whole again."

She said this only as they came within a hundred feet from the temple, the forest finally giving way after one last bit of thick brush. Within this open area was a compound hidden from the galaxy in the most simple of manners, a canopy provided by a singular tree in the middle of the compound and the temple itself covered in vines from the rooftop garden and the tree Alexandra had talked about. It was a small complex, but one that housed a number of Jedi within, as well as Alexandra's personal projects.

"Follow me to the tree... its not a far walk." True to her word, she would continue walking, only having to take a small flight of stairs up and to the final floor of the temples. There was her workshop which she walked through and inside was a few of those projects mentioned, a speeder torn apart and its internals on desks, a fighter with wires hanging out and the engines torn from it, computers and datapads separated from their holdings. This area was hers, the rooms connected to this portion of the temple being those that she slept in or was her office, or one that led to the council chambers themselves so that she could reach that room without issue.

It was up a second flight of stairs that led to the garden which housed her tree, and there Yasha would be led. This garden, residing on the roof of the main temple, would house a great expanse of different flowers, plants, and herbs, but at its center was the tree and the source of the lightside nexus they stood within. It was the other half of Alexandra's being, the item for which Alexandra had devoted so much of her life creating and now she showed it to someone who she had just met less than an hour ago. The tree softly radiated with the same calming energy that Alexandra had promised, and it seemed to even ask Yasha to abandon all fears and worry in its presence.

Alexandra had spent no time, walking forward and shedding the robes she wore, leaving her in a shirt and trousers as she folded the robes up and gingerly placed them at the base of the tree. Her hand came to rest on the bark of the tree and then with a smile she looked behind herself and to Yasha. She wanted the woman to come and stand next to her, to place her own hand on the tree and with a quiet, calm, and soft voice she spoke again. Something more touched her tounge though, almost like a music to her voice and a honey to the ears of those who would hear it.

"Come here Mandalor, I want you to feel at home and relax. I can promise that no harm comes to any within my garden, as this is a place where death cannot touch and will not touch, It is my job to ensure only life exists and continues to do so in this place." Alexandra's smile would not falter now, and would not change until they left this place.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“It’s easier to view him as wearing goodness like a cloak. If it’s possible for someone of his stature to be partially good, then I can exist in the Universe without being a source for evil. If there is no redemption, I am nothing but a corpse-maker walking through battlefields winning souls for the dead.”

Yasha walked through a dream, lost in her thoughts until the staircase defeated her. Ambrose scooped Yasha up, carrying the Mand’alor as he always would when she needed it. The gurlanin kept Yasha in her place, constructing the pedestal upon which he placed her in perpetuetum. This was her place, regardless of her desires, or her fatigue.

This and no other. Ra’s Ward would rule, it was her only purpose for surviving the hells and little deaths along the path. She would rule and Mandalore would thrive.

But if she failed, if she faltered, Mandalore itself would fall. That was the myth spoken to her Death Watch guards, the story told around the fires. Manda gave Yasha to the Mando’ade, and the Infernal would never rest, but upon the bodies of their mounting enemies.

The Temple was so beautiful Yasha’s eyes watered. She dug into her chestplate, and pulled out a black stone necklace, which pulsed with a dampening and even eradication of the Force within a close enough radius.

A single sliver of void stone, possibly the most expensive and holiest relic the Mandalorian Empire had at its’ disposal, drape around their Mand’alor’s neck at all times. Yasha handed it to Tuulu, who nuzzled against Yasha’s hand then padded off with the stone in his jaws, to wait at the edge of the brush.

All at once, the Light opened to Yasha’s inner eyes, and with a single gasp, the tortured young woman began to sob. Ambrose set her down and she crumpled to her knees, arms held akimbo against her thighs. Gasping sobs stole Yasha’s ability to speak, as the presence which Taeli Raaf upon Ithor saw was strong in the Force, met the Light of the tree for the first time. Yet, something held the powers in Yasha back. Locked away under the forest pool on Ithor. This woman would never use the Force, while the Ithorian Priests still sang in their eternal hymn. They sang because they feared her, and feared what the evil upon her would become. The permanent touch of the Dark on her soul.

Yet, in front of this holy tree, there was no rebuke.

No banishing of her presence like a deadly fire across dry tinder. The tree and the Light gave nothing but a place to abandon all fear and trust in the oneness of its’ unabashed holiness. The horrors of her life played out from the tree, this being whose life was filled with terrors and the overcoming of them. The Light inspected all, without mercy and without limit.

Every deed, every whimper in the Dark. It touched upon the abandoned girl, torn from her mother by death and her father by life. Cast aside, taught nothing but to fight and kill or die alone. The panicked mother, whose body was too broken to bear, who watched her daughter slip away to death and an ignoble resurrection. The broken woman, whose husband died upon her rejection of his position in her life.

On Mandalore, the Mighty Do Not Kneel. She asked no supplication, but the application of strength to protect the Vode. Here, for the first time in her young and tempestuous life, Yasha knelt.

And wept.

And discovered [member="Alexandra Feanor"] was right, so right all along.

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

Alexandra let the Mandalor have her moments of peace, not intending to interrupt those first minutes. Instead she continued her ritual that she had one become used to completing. Just as she had said to Yasha, the force was her anchor and benefactor, one that protects and provides for her. She owed her existence to the force. She kept a hand against the tree and fed it, not only the light of the force, but also her own being, giving it without hesitation.

The tree had more or less the same force bond that could be formed between beings, only this one constructed and strengthened consciously. It had been one she developed over decades and learned from with numerous attempts on more efficiently completing the process. The rewards were worth it though and she looked on at the woman who had come with her.

Without a word, Alex stood and moved to where the Mandalor had fallen to her knees, silently taking her place beside the other woman. Alexandra would say nothing, only remove the weapons she held once more and resting them on a nearby stone. It was only then that a hand rested on the woman’s shoulder and her voice rose up. It seemed to sound more like music in this place, a elegant and soft melody that hung in the air even after the words had long been spoken.

“Come with me to the tree, and it is ok, in this place nothing is permitted to bring you harm without my own life in the way of such harm.” She moved to rest her hand on Yasha’s, willing to prove her with someone to balance off of and to lean on if necessary. The distance would not be far and none would see this, at least none that would speak of the sight. Alexandra’s garden was not forbidden to students, but no one would speak of this without the Mandalor allowing it, this place is for healing of anyone, not just Jedi.

Alexandra would lead the other woman to the tree and then without words show Yasha where she needs to sit next to the tree, Alex herself sitting a foot across from Yasha. Then she reached out and placed a hand on the trunk of the tree, meaning for Yasha to do the same.

“What you see or show me, will be of your own choosing. I cannot force you to present me with information or memories, or the healing will not work. You must present them to me of your own will. I can repair your scars without any of those, but the damage that exists beyond the surface cannot be repaired without you allowing me in. In turn, I cannot heal you even then without allowing you in as well, but you will find no issues there. My history is open to any who seek it and ask.” Alexandra warned her, her second hand coming up and sitting in the air between them. The hand was flat, with her palm up and towards the sky that emailed hidden by the limbs and leaves of the tree.

“When you are ready, tell me.”

 

[Yasha Cadera]

[member="Ambrose Cadera"] turned and walked away. He could not face the immediate hereafter. It was not his way.

The Queen of Jackals and Carrion-birds lied prostrate before the Tree of Life, weeping continuously into the thin space between body and bark. A Wolf’s Daughter sobbed. Rivulets of salt tears struck the grass, watering this sacred glade with an unending guttural express of the Dark which shackled her perpetually to the shadows.

The Black Waters flowed through Yasha Cadera’s veins. Forced? Drowned in them, by the Dark Lord? Caressed between her lips like an advantageous lover coaxing a kiss? Yasha had no answer, for she had no idea of the reality of her time under Dromund Kaas. She knew only mutants, and gnashing of teeth, and bruises, and cold fire, and the heat of a man’s body against her back, reaching past hate to keep her warm.

Alive.

That was the gift of Darth Carnifex. Life abundant.

Yasha wept. She tore at the ground with her fingers digging into the grass, until great clumps curled up between them.

The Tree still would not rebuke her.

She tore at the ground. Bellowed her grief and the withheld years of silent fears. She barked and sobbed and struck at the ground, but only the grace and mercy of a forgiving hand swept the precipitates off her face. [member="Alexandra Feanor"] touched her. Yasha’s armour sloughed off her body like the weight of her sins.

She crawled forward, unable to stand in stocking feet, right leg throbbing with the break to her ankle. The Light. Yasha gripped Alex’s hand, as her mind blossomed for this strange priestess of the forest.

The Light!

By Kad, the Light!

Had her father felt this Light, perhaps he too would not be lost, wishing his daughter and granddaughter’s destruction for a hallucination of demonic intents. Had Kaine Zambrano felt this Light as a child, had he been taken from his cruel parentage and brought to such a place, would he not too be resplendent with the perilous mercies of this tree and the Master thereof?

The Darkness clung to Yasha’s soul with a vehement claw. It would never release her. She was as much a being of the Chaos, a traveller of the Six Gates as she was an Epicanthix youth, flowering into womanhood in her mid-twenties. Images of panicked brawls, and overwhelming battles filtered through the connection between Yasha, Alex and the tree.

Kaine Zambrano holding her tight to his chest, protecting her as they fell for villainy’s sake, down to the belly of Kaas City. Tears in his cheek, temple, nose, eye…. all caused by Yasha’s elbow. Her refusal to take all of him, to take his despicable treatment of Commenor. Strikes against her face, a body tossed into the fire.

A man holding her down, leering with dull, black and red eyes. Condemning the hysterics of a woman overcome, for the prudence of pacifism. Yasha screamed until her voice was raw, chasing after the offending man. How dare he. How dare…

The bellies of the Ymir opened for Alex, their hundreds pulsing, writhing, jaws clacking and chewing and spittle rising for the digestion of Yasha and Kaine, back to back against the frigid hereafter below the rebuilt Dromund Kaas.

Below the very desert her birth father took her to teach her of the folly of power. Did Preliat know Yasha would end up back to back with the Dark Lord, surviving one on the other, slashing and cutting the countless Ymir cannibals, as they consumed their own dead, and thus reconstructed?

The dead plagued her, tore at her mind as well as her armoured flesh. They were nothing less than the sins of Mandalorian genocide. The survivors of Larraq’s attack on Dromund Kaas. Survival took a hideous form. It bit, and chewed, and gnawed, and gnashed, and barked, and howled, and worshipped.

Death worshipped the lethal beings, who fought the Ymir and each other. Yet Carnifex yielded to the young Mandalorian. He bent his neck and cleared his throat, sipping from the Black Lake.

The Black Lake… a Nexus of the Dark. The only water for days. Yasha’s lips smacked. She was perpetually thirsty. She drove onward, daily battles against taking the water. Surrounded by a lake, her mouth dried until seizures stole her body.

Three days was enough time for dehydration to kill a human. By the fourth, Yasha consumed the blood of the fallen Ymir, rather than drink the black water.

Never the black water.

A set of powerful male arms, which dwarfed her utterly. Squirming as he carried her. Shrieks croaking ill out of a parched, dying mouth. It would be better this way, he soothed. Speaking still as a lover, or a kind Lord of his domain. Stabs and gnashing teeth.

Snarls.

The Hell Wolf refused. Struggled and bit. Scratched, clawed, punched, kicked. Blackened blood flowing in the waters.

A massive hand holding her down into deep, black waters.

Choking and spewing air. Gulps of liquid. Flails growing in strength and fortitude. A craving stronger than glitterstim on its’ unfortunate thousands, lost to its’ thrall.

The soul of Yasha Cadera would never be as pure as the Tree of Life before her. It had been touched by that which was most dark of all. By Chaos survived, and the blackest, most insidious waters…

…. Tempestuous, cacophonous waters…

… Body heat. Pressing against her back to sustain her. She would fight him in the morrow. Choke and destroy him. Beat his face until the pink and grey folds of his brain coated her gauntlets.

She would destroy him. Decimate him. Level him unrelenting to the duracrete rubble of Kaas City, destroyed by Mandalorians in the great Galactic purge before she was born. He would beat her, throw her, cut her skin and leave her craning and bruised under…

… Body heat. Pressing against her back to sustain her. To ensure her survival, this ungrateful thing. This never-wife. Not-lover. Ungrateful, despicable object. Crumple and toss her… but no. He wrapped his cloak around her tender, broken frame. Held her against his chest for heat’s sake. He forgave, where others would slit her olive throat. Render her into pieces, and feed the lake. The deepest evil held her, smoothing tussled hair. Breathing relief on damaged bones. Yasha slept for exhaustion. Body broken.

She was valuable yet, this Mandalorian. Womb given to the dangerous serendipity of the Force. He picked her up, bathed her in the waters. Those despicable, Sithly waters. He bandaged her wounds, for tomorrow she would spite him. Bite and curse him. Stab her blades through his flesh.

Thunderous ruin of Manda’yaim, beating the skin off of him, to cleanse her People from the damage of Ra. Ra her beloved Guardian. Her Undying. The only one who left her, with death as an excuse.

Mandalorian hands cometh. Grasp her. Save her, their Infernal. Their Hell-survived Queen. Monarch of Disconnection. Defeater, and yet drinker, of the Dark.

Yasha’s body was broken. Not a muscle, nor a bone was left untouched by the war she endured to rescue her Mandalore, her Great Mother, from the clutches of the usurping man. The desolate, hungry soul.

Delight came after. A new husband, secret, love for the Infernal Hell Wolf. The howler, who protected Mandalore from all possible alarum. She clung to [member="Kaine Australis"], her lover, compatriot, protector and friend. The flower of her belly expanded, folding twice over as two minuscule heartbeats met Alexandra and Yasha’s ears. Twins. The progeny of her Kaine. Her Kain’ik, the father of her children.

The forgiver of her sins.

All this was open to Alexandra Feanor. All this, and the horror of thirteen years surviving in childhood and adolescence in the utter chaos of the Field of Blade, Garden of Thorns, the Oasis, the Blood Plains.

Yasha’s mind had yet to break, but the brokenness unrelenting thrust upon her. She would break, but for the gentle bastion of the tree.

How much could one soul take?

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

Alexandra, the historian of the chaotic past that had enveloped her life and the universe around her was simply taken aback the moment that the images started to flourish and her own eyes closed, surrendering herself to the force. Strands of light reached from the sky, coming from nowhere and enveloping Alexandra's body in a skin of white light, that light reaching into the tree as the lines in the bark started to glow on their own. That light reaching out through the tree, reaching to the limbs, and then the leaves themselves who's vein like make-up glowed brightly.

Everything would be silent, the music of the forest amplified as the world around Alexandra became unimportant. And just as those white strands of energy came to Alexandra, her eyes had grown dull and blind, sacrificing her sight to the force and her hand that was in between them grew still. Alexandra would not breathe, her chest unmoving, her body like a stone and almost becoming some light infused statue.

That hand twitched though, and like Alexandra, strands would form connecting Yasha to some unseen force, only hers being withered and strained, not all, but the influence there on those connections to the Force. It came from her history, first dead to the force, but also her dive into the dark. Alexandra did not stop though and her hand twitched again as a strand curled from her hand, followed by another, reaching out to curve around Yasha and wrap themselves around the very threads that connected Yasha to the force.

And with that, they pierced into Yasha's connection to the Force, opening Alexandra's past to Yasha in a very different manner as Yasha would find herself in the crowded streets of Corellia, Alexandra much younger and walking with two individuals. The young girl had to be no more than five or six, smiling wide and while it was clear her family was in no way well off, they were together. The Father, an echani and the one who gave his daughter the trademark silver hair, her mother, some elven like species, though the origin not entirely clear from the memory.

Alexandra would be bouncing around as a child would, but then the scene would start to fill with smoke, the street closing off and there appearing fires around her. She would be standing in front of the young girl, the miniature Alexandra trying to run away. Blood would be on Yasha's hands, a crying child silenced and the other two missing, Alex's fears, worry for her siblings, worry for her parents, and absolute terror culminating as Yasha would see her hand reach out and lightning crawl over that hand.

But Alexandra would back up again, and off a balcony to the ground far below as CorSec responded. Yasha would be thrust from the body that she had been seeing this from the viewpoint of, the visage of a sith assassin disappearing and the scene shifting to that very alley Alex had fallen towards.

The Young Girl, for her merit, did not remain in that spot. But she did not move for long as something quite obvious had happened, Alexandra's legs twisted in an unnatural state. The kid would not be awake for long, adrenaline gone and her head lolling to the side as she was literally left in the gutter.

Time shifted, the weeks passing like some sped up scene in a movie.

The girl had woken up, dragged to a box and remained there, her body twisted by the damage but somewhat recovering.

She was then taken.

Darkness then followed, taken away to be 'healed'.

Her mind was twisted to serve only one purpose, to serve only one man. This man was her 'master', her teacher of machines and to cultivate her knowledge. But even he did not remain long, as he would be dealt with, having healed her body but twisted her mind into an easily moldable creation. He did not treat her wrong himself, but her cell was barely large enough for sleep, with nothing more to her name.

Alexandra was saved again though but doomed to the forty years that would be her life from that point on.

Balaya Zambrano, a name that spiked in Alexandra's mind.

A woman that brought her pain and misery, fear from a younger time, and a disgust from a current time.

The Zeltron that towered over her would finish the healing, but would also shape Alexandra's mind, leaving programming and 'teachings' that the sith were the true path. Helping her to see this with sessions and understanding about who to serve. Alexandra also met the same man but saw a tyrant, unlike Yasha.

A dark ruler that enslaved, a dark ruler that murdered planets and wiped out their populations. Slaves that line the palace on Thule, creations that were twisted amalgamations of what could be barely considered life.

And Alexandra suffered for helping to create these beings. She was scarred, stabbed, beaten, twisted her own soul to create beings that would help her benefactors and keep them strong. She did not succeed, never did she succeed, none of her creations enough and only bringing more upon her.

She withdrew and on ossus, there was a light. Alexandra saw a chance, but a fleeting one.

Yasha would now be standing there, staring down a man as Yasha spoke but without her own voice.

Instead, she would hear Alexandra's voice and with it came the urging for the man in front of Yasha to do it. With that, Yasha would feel the burning blade and images would come faster.

She would see where they were now, but with no temple, no tree, only Alexandra huddled against a tree trying to stay warm. She would see numerous people coming by and meeting her. She would see Joshua Dragonsflame, she would see Alexandra holding a young man pinned against a tree, blood covering her hands. She would see Alexandra beaten into the ground and left for dead, she would see events passing at increasing speed.

Then, a split, two Alexandra standing there as they beat each other, one with dark hair, the other with silver. The dark won, stomping Alexandra's head into the ground and grinning as it enjoyed every second. This being, Hel, the creation Alexandra had crafted from her attempt to remove all dark emotions from her mind turned and grinned at Yasha.

But eventually, she would see Alexandra kneeling to the sith again, only a few years after escaping them.

She had been programmed, she was to follow them, she was their puppet on strings. She tainted her hands and was beaten down for their amusement. She led her friends down paths of self-destruction and she made what bonds she could as her world around her grew darker.

But like Yasha, there had been a light. A Jedi that Alex first respected then enjoyed the company of, then looked for advice, and then for help. All of it led to Alexandra finding that smallest bit of light inside her, and a home being built on that spot in the forest of Alderaan where she had shivered and huddled for warmth.

And there a Tree would be planted, and into it was placed the beings of a few, those few now missing from the tree and only Alex remaining.

Alexandra's mind would continue, the cycle of beatings cut with Alexandra's time with that one man who had given her a small light in this world. Alexandra moving from battle to battle, conflict to conflict but now with him at her side.

Things became tolerable.

That light that had been in her life gave her two children, two beautiful souls that Alexandra could treasure and cherish, two that would never be taken from her.

Things had been tolerable.

Taeli would appear again, Alexandra's friend, blurry and standing over her with Balaya Zambrano. A poisoned cup beside her head as Alexandra lay on the ground. The light would dim then brighten, now at a trial with Alexandra sitting on the ground, head hung and no one there to help her.

Her chest was pierced through, her arms removed and her body thrown into the netherworld. The Second time she had been in this place.

Her death.

Alexandra laid on the ground, unable to return through the portal she had been tossed into. Her spirit was shattered, broken, no one there to help her. She knew the netherworld and thought that this was truly the end for her.

She persisted though, brought back and into the arms of her light, to see her children, but only to have them stripped away from her with Hel's meddling. She was cast out by her light, thrown to the ground and told to never return. Her children were out of her life, her light was gone and Alexandra was again in the mud. She returned to Alderaan and for years she remained there, alone in a temple that was falling apart, with only the tree before her.

That tree would be the last thing Yasha would see, the last thing Alexandra had with the loss of her kids from her life. With the scorn and abandonment of her heart by the light in her life. And while a new light came, [member="Abigail Meredydd"]'s face flashing for Yasha to see. Alexandra was alone and she was sitting beside that tree in this memory, a small child again with broken legs and curled into a ball. The world around her raining but Alexandra herself kept safe by the tree.

It was outside of this memory that Yasha would find herself, her features on her face healing as Alexandra seemed to take on her wounds for a moment, but those clearing too.

Those two strands though would be cut from the sky though, pulling through Alexandra's body and leaving her hand to curl up and around Yasha. Quickly Alexandra would breathe again but then start coughing as blood came from her lips, dripping to her chin and her body slumping as the light faded.

Alexandra would become quiet as her body slouched and leaned against the tree. The only part of her body that did not move or show signs of her being unconcious was her hand on the tree itself. It would remain there as the tree dulled and the light that had expanded throughout it retreated back to Alexandra's hand. It would continue until all light from the tree returned to Alexandra and only then would her eyes return to their normal state and her hand would drop from the trunk.

Her body leaned against the tree, blood coming from her mouth and her body looking pale and weakened as she smiled softly at Yasha.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

A lifetime of different pains.

Where Yasha was given nothing but the resplendent promises of a Sith Lord in his prime, the security of knowing she was valued, [member="Alexandra Feanor"] was beaten and tortured into submission.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] needed to do no such thing to entice the young Infernal. She was tortured enough. Yasha already survived the worst of all possible horrors.

What disarmed her was love.

Affection. The delight of safety in a dangerous set of arms. From attention given to an absent-patented child, to the hours of soft voiced conversation in their mutual mother tongue, Kaine Zambrano required no threat but the lack of his warm, usually frigid hand.

Others condemned [member="Darth Carnifex"] for his villainy and cruelty. All Yasha could condemn was patience and the manipulation of emotion to better suit his personal goals. Seeing Carnifex from Alex’s eyes was seeing truth. As true as the warmth of him, when he, God-Father of Panathans, kept her from the lethal cold under Kaas City.

Armour clattered around the Infernal, thrice released from Hell. Her gauntlet left her hand as she hit the maglock and disarmoured in this holy place. Yasha curled up beside Alex, with her back to the tree. She set her head on her shoulder. Her legs stung.

“Sorry… I’m a Mom. Cleaning faces is one of my things.” Yasha’s hand came up, pulling a hankie from a belt pouch, and wiped Alex’s chin and lips. Horrors upon horrors. Mistreatment, and snares built upon the Temple of a false God-King.

The ultimate idol lingered in Yasha’s mind, disintegrating into sandy dross. ‘You are other, Yash’ika. You are chosen, where they, slim they, were not. You will always be mine’. If Alex was right, which the odds were high, Kaine Zambrano used Yasha for nothing but control and gain. He profited from her welfare, and once that welfare was destroyed, once his benefit dipped away, she would be as empty as his eyes.

“What can I offer you in recompense, Alex? I… I know no other gift than death.” As useless as sand in the desert. Yasha gripped her flat belly with a hand, knees pulling up against her chest as she leaned against the tree.

“I’m pregnant.” Yasha shut her eyes and felt the warmth of the Alderaani sun combined with the Light of the tree. “Kaine and I are having twins. I married him… privately. Nobody really knows, yet. Two voices in… well, two voices coming together. Promising each other what time we have left.”

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

[member="Yasha Cadera"]


Alexandra wanted to laugh when Yasha spoke about recompense and gifts, things Alexandra honestly did not care for. She had found someone in her forest, and helped them. If she never saw Yasha again, that would be completely understood and she would be a bit disappointed but not surprised. It was the fact the woman even asked what could be given that made Alexandra happy, causing the weakened woman to just smile and wave her hand weakly at the comment.

"I did not do this for selfish means, and had I, you cannot deliver onto me what I truly want and seek. But I do thank you for the thought and wish you to seek what is best for those children you carry, and those you have carried. The life we give ours for is what truly matters in this world, be it trillions, or only our family." Her eyes focused on Yasha for a few moments more before closing and relaxing against the tree.

In that moment, she looked truly peaceful, pale with red still touching her lips, but peaceful none the less. Alexandra almost looked like someone who had just died in this garden, but her life force was never stronger in such a place. Alexandra was simply like this after using the force in such an extreme manner.

Her breath remained constant, breaking only when she did speak once more.

"Yasha. If I might ask. Why did you trust me to do this. Your people have never been one to trust Jedi, much less allow them such an intimate understanding of the person in question. What you have shown me is more than almost anyone else knows and now you sit here with no protection, be it in the form or armor or guards. Such actions would be unthought of by your people... it confuses me to tell the truth."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

To give everything for her children. Was that the duty Yasha found, as a panicked and dour-faced twelve year old given responsibility over so many Mando’ade?

Were they not all her children, the millions of them in their throngs and Clan attire? Was her responsibility to them more poignant than the responsibility Yasha had to Adara, Reyn and these two little ones growing in her belly? Cradling her flat belly in her arms, Yasha tucked in to put her head on [member="Alexandra Feanor"]’s shoulder and cuddled against her and the tree. It was warm here in a radiant and noble way, far from the fire of Carnifex’s body hemming her in.

Where Kaine Zambrano stole the power from Yasha, taking what she gave and returning supposed kindness, Alexandra tore hard questions to the wind, and sat in contented repose. Somehow knowing that Alexandra went through the torments of the Sith in a concurrent way gave Yasha a further sense of peace. There were dignity in tears, and in the weakened state Alexandra took after the bold act of healing.

Winding her arm through Alex’s, Yasha sighed and pulled her knees up toward her chest.

“You not shooting me was a plus.” Yasha chuckled sordidly, softly. “My armour is a statement of my faith in Manda, Alex. It’s a symbol of my position, and a shield. But it’s not my only protection. I’m not as hard to kill, as one might think. It was time. I’d never felt the Light, and this forest more than any other on this planet called to me. I guess… there’s a level of anonymity to connecting with someone so far removed from my every day. I don’t show weakness often, but Kaas City’s humbled… no. Not humbled.”

Shaking her head on Alex’s shoulder slowly and carefully, Yasha sighed. “Shaken me. You knowing Strider was a plus. Did you… did you see the conversation I had with Ember in his Castle in the Field of Blades?”

Alex might be able to feel the slim smile which graced Yasha’s red-rimmed but pretty face.

“He called it all the way back then. Said, oh what was it? I have a compulsion to connect with others that shared some experience. I’ve had only a handful of people, who didn’t treat me with violence or fear. I could, maybe just a little, recognize that you meant me no harm. Doesn’t make much sense, does it? I’m terrible at explaining in Basic. It’s not such a bad thing, is it? Even if it is confusing?”

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

[member="Yasha Cadera"]

Alexandra watched the woman, curious about what exactly was going through her mind and then finding Yasha curl up a bit more with her head on Alex's shoulder. Her mind focused on the woman's breathing and with a careful hand she continued to let the force weave through Yasha, helping her better relax and breath, even if her heart would pick up at any point. Alexandra was more focused on the woman than herself right now and that was fine. The Mandalor was the one receiving healing today, that would not change.

Her hand did come to rest on yasha's as she twisted her arm with Alex's. She would give the woman as much comfort as she could and with a soft voice, she started speaking then. As Yasha had mentioned her own motherhood, Alexandra knew that well too. While she did not get a great deal of time with her children, she did get to see how unprotected someone could be.

"Every one needs a relief and a reprieve from their lives. One cannot simply focus on only their duty without driving themselves to insanity, even if it comes in a benign state. Relax and release that tension and worry Yasha." She paused and thought about.

"As for treating you without violence or fear, you must understand who your people are and the power that comes with the very mention of your people. Many fear and scorn the Mandalorians for being the cause of great horrors in the past, such as what occurred on Dromund Kaas all those years ago. But I would not worry too much about this fact Yasha, just as how Jedi are seen as hypocrites and deceitful, or Sith as monsters and demons." Her voice halted, thinking on what to say.

"And no, your words are not confusing, just lost and seeking answers. Most jedi would also find my actions to be suspect and those I help and stand with as counteractive to my place in the force, but it is not who we associate with that determins that. It is what we do and who we are... you have shown me no reason to strike at you with intention to harm, only a lost woman seeking healing and harmony for once in her life."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The Light was a drug shaking through Yasha’s system, cleansing and purifying a lifetime without such holy attention. She continued cuddling in, basking in a purity she’d never known, one which gave without ceasing and never asked for anything in return.

“Relax… funny word, relax.” All others asked for their toll of blood from the Infernal. Locked in a pleasant near-stupour, Yasha Cadera sighed and let her eyes drift closed.

“You’re comfortable.” [member="Alexandra Feanor"] spoke of the history of their divergent peoples, speaking of the Mandalorians from an outsider’s perspective. Mandalorians were feared, scorned for past strife, the magistrates of many vicious battles. “Harmony was a myth, when I was young… there have been too few peaceful moments.”

Voice lowered to a sing-song mumble, Yasha continued to cuddle into Alex’s shoulder, her body releasing the coils of tension held on far too long.

“And what are you searching for? There must be something…”

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

Alexandra watched the woman relax, eyes searching that scarred face with a tinge of sympathy. She had long ago found that very peace that this woman sought. Yasha spoke about the myth of harmony, drawing Alex to smile and sit for a few moments thinking on the response that she would give the woman.

“Harmony is no myth, it exists in all things and beings. Just as there is no such thing as a place without light. The dark and the chaos of this galaxy masks the beauty and peace that many search for. After all, there can be no such thing as an evil act without one of good and kindness...” she paused, thinking on the questions asked.

“I am searching for that light. For life, something to touch and hold onto in this galaxy. I have now been granted the existence that could leave me to remain in this galaxy for millennia, but yet, I do not know myself. I need something to hold onto... a purpose.” She smiled, looking up at the tree and it’s branches.

“I’ll find that purpose one day.”

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Light always hurt my eyes.” The glow of the tree stung Yasha’s unarmoured eyes. She buried her head into [member="Alexandra Feanor"]’s shoulder and for a time seemed to sleep. Something unsettled in her belly. Alex spoke of the balance of all things, a universal concept the Force users seemed to believe with an adamance which was shocking.

“But under your philosophy, there will be no victory. Nothing but the Force marring lives and destroying one planet to give another peace. The cycle will never complete.” Yasha thought for a long while, knees cuddled up to her chest, head on Alex’s shoulder. “There can be no hope if all you can do is cancel the other side out. The perpetuity of both sides... even Mandalorians know War is a temporary state, once conquered to be set aside back to our farms and studios. We worship Kad Harang’ir but not him only. Not most of us. Not me.”

Yasha stretched her neck to either side, feeling the pop-crack of recovering muscles. Letting her eyes flutter, Yasha reached for a pair of hidden sunglasses and slid them on. Taking Alex’s chin in her fingers, Yasha tilted her face up. She took in the sight of this mysterious Jeti, seeing the truth of her, the hidden moments she’d shared through the healing act. Another being in this universe known down to the soul. Yasha had so few. Kaine, perhaps?

“Are you ready for a purpose, yet? Will you make your purpose a person, or an ideal?”

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

[member="Yasha Cadera"]


"The Cycle would continue without the force, as we beings of this galaxy are of many mindsets and beliefs. To force one's beliefs through conquest, will only create a festering hatred under the surface. To enslave others, will only build towards that yearning for freedom, that need for the chains to be broken and for those within them to cast down their enslavers. All states of existence are in the end temporary, as the flow of time and the universe itself ensures there is never stagnation." She paused, smiling sadly as she looked down at her hands, speaking the last bit she had to.

"That is why I exist to help keep balance, and that is why I exist in this body now. My place is to help the galaxy, with or without the force there to aid me. Maybe I will live for five thousand years, doing this to no avail and in the end finding the galaxy to have never so much as moved a step towards peace and protection." She felt a hand touch her chin and blinked as Yasha raised Alex's face. She blinked as her eyes were being studied by Yasha's.

She spoke as to if Alexandra was ready for a purpose and it made Alexandra hesitate. Was she ready, and was that purpose the same as what she had just spoken on the moment before. She was so quick to consign herself to keeping balance in the galaxy but now she was unsure if what she had just said was what she believed. Was she speaking with her mind, heart, or just listing off rhetoric she believed was right.

"I don't know if I am ready for a purpose to tell the truth, and I do not know if it will be for someone, or for some ideal, that I devote myself fully. I have never been given the chance to truly think on the matter or been faced with a situation where I had to decide without hesitation or second thought."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“But why a Cycle?” Yasha blurted out, shaking her head. “You’ve been to the Netherworld. Souls find their end. They fade, or get destroyed, or lose themselves in the valley. There is no cycle there. Why must we be doomed to repeat these atrocities and momentary peace, when we could build something far greater? I… I don’t know how, but I have to believe it’s possible!”

Her voice came to a resounding stop. Yasha sighed out of her nostrils and slowly shook her head.

“Otherwise everything I’ve done is nothing. Otherwise all we have, at the end of it is Nihilism. Nothing matters. Nothing can change. Nothing will come of our deeds but more disseminate pain. How can we look to anything at all if… if all we have is to fight the next in a neverending series of battles?” Shaking her head, haunted amber eyes looked into [member="Alexandra Feanor"]’s with an intense clarity. “Otherwise he wins.”

The woman before her didn’t seem to perfectly believe what she spoke. There were doubts, maybe in Yasha’s own mind projected forward. But Balance? Was that what she was put in the Galaxy for? Was that what she clawed her way out of the Netherworld twice to achieve for her People?

“My poor Ale’ika. Searching still.” Sighing, Yasha brushed her fingers across Alex’s jaw and leaned against the tree. “I’ve had my purpose since I was eight years old. I fought, and was claimed by the Undying, and my purpose was the People of Mandalore. The Vode. My choice was made for me.

I would serve. I would give my breath, life and death to the Mando’ade. I would learn, then once the Mantle moved from Ra’s shoulders, it would be mine. Even our enemies saw that truth in their scrying and farseeing. Mandalore is my purpose.

Without it I am nothing. Regardless of desire, regardless of the welts on my shoulders from carrying the Clans, I will continue to serve them, or I will die. That was my mission. It was why Manda helped carry me through the Netherworld for thirteen of my twenty five years. An although I was neither prepared for nor ready to take the Mantle at twenty, I bear it.

Sometimes our purpose is not one of self-discovery. Sometimes it is of our loves, Alex. Our missions and our destinies. You deciding one way or another… what good would it do? Who are you? I saw your life, but you. Who are YOU? You crave connection, you worship at the roots of this symbiotic tree, and you wonder over… ephemera?

Are you a sage? A healer? A warrior? A mother? What are you? A lover? You have this chance. Right now to consider. To grip into your soul and know, as I did at six years old, when the gods of the Chaos clung to my mother’s dying body and challenged me. What are you? Are you ruler, or sage? You are clearly not one who would fade from history without her name being emblazoned upon it.”

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

[member="Yasha Cadera"]

Alexandra hand came up and met Yasha's, removing it from her chin and sighing as she lowered the hand to rest in Yasha's own lap before returning her own hands to her lap. Alexandra sat there, silently considering the words that had been spoken to her with saddened eyes as she considered each of the things said to her.

There had been many things that Alex was in the past.

Under the sith, she had been a witch and a warrior. She had studied and created beings that were corrupted beyond what had been done to many in the past. She was not proud of her past with the sith, and yet it was a constant reminder of her failures and her poor choices.

Then there was the failure as a mother, prioritizing the removal of Hel to the point where she had become blind to the spirit's influence. And in the end she had lost everything that she loved, forced into an exile that left her further broken. She still wished she could turn back the pages of history and wished she could deal with this all without breaking down but when it came to her children, she cared for no one else more than them.

As for a sage and a healer... no she still caused her fair share of death and pain, she still ripped people from their lives and no matter what she did her actions would always lead to harm. Even if indirectly like as of recent times. And she was no wise being, having caused issues with careless actions before she could even see the future play out infront of her own eyes.

As for a lover...

"I do not know what I am, and at time, I feel like a shade that is barely here..." She tried to old back her own tears as she sat there with her arms still in her lap. "Ive lost alot in my time, and will lose more before I am dead. Yet, even though I know how to raise those I have lost from the grave, doing so would just stain their own hearts in doing so. I want to protect so many but I can't. I'm not strong enough and outside of this place I am nothing more than a girl playing at being a master."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Ale’ika.” Yasha chided. Her spirit opened to the syllables of [member="Alexandra Feanor"]’s name, spoken softly by the tree of her own desires. Failures and follies worked through Alex’s mind as if Yasha could see them. After their shared memories expanded in her mind, Yasha felt the tug of her ribcage for the displaced Jeti in front of her. She sighed and let the calm of warm seas remembered pour over her. “You are no more a shade than I am the Hell Child.”

Shaking her head, Yasha scooped the smaller being up and tugged Alex into her lap, cuddling Alex’s cheek into her shoulder. She brushed her hand up and down Alex’s side, soothing and…

“The Galaxy is filled with loss. I’ve lost a planet full of souls. My mother, brother, father, riduur… I watched my daughter die slowly in her cradle, but that didn’t stick. Kaine… he wouldn’t let things lie.” Shaking her head, Yasha cuddled Alex in her arms, allowing the smaller being a modicum of peace. “You are not your fears, Ale’ika, as I am not mine.

You have not been given five thousand years to shift this galaxy for fear’s sake. Gosh, I wish you could meet someone… my step-mother’s great-something Grandfather on Sabarene. He’s like you. Echani. Light. He’s already lived eight centuries, maybe he… Alex, you are Master Alexandra Feanor. You are Grandmaster of the Republic Jetiise. You are a woman, who was besot by darkness and overcame it. Learned from the terrors of the Dark to become your own diamond refracting the Light.

You will not be brought asunder. You will not be afraid. You will not fail. And when you do fail? Sweet pea, when you fail, that’s the Light telling you you’re not done yet. My Mama used to say ‘if you see the galaxy going to hell in a handbasket, to turn the feth around! Who the heck wants to go there!? Start paddlin’! Gawsh!’… She was… she was.”

Shrugging with a small chuckle as she thought of her terrible mother Aditya Mantis, Yasha nuzzled her nose into Alex’s hair. If she looked back, Yasha didn’t know why she cuddled Alex up. There was a kinship to their shared memories. A similarity, which brought understanding.

“You are the shaper of the Galaxy, Alex. You are the star, which will not go out. Your mission… your purpose is to look upon all with authority and clarity. Not to judge, but to give atonement. You are as perilous as the Light, and you will not abide the Dark taking you over.

It only holds close to those who know not who they are. You know this. Believe it. The Light which resides in you now is you. Just as I cannot live in the pits of Hell I survived, you cannot live in the past.” Yasha took Alex’s hand, and placed it on Alex’s own heart, folding her hand over Alex’s.

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

[member="Yasha Cadera"]


A fait smile touched Alexandra's lips as she listened to all this and was handled with care, her body leaning against the woman that held onto her.

She was likely twice this woman's age, yet something had for once been opened to her. She did not know if it was the new body's brain changing who she was, or how she reacted, or if this was just something she had not had in decades and finally needed. A moment of clarity and softness after so much time alone and fighting through the galaxy's trials.

Yasha's words burrowed into Alex's mind, but whether they would impact her was not quite clear as the entrenched beliefs held inside continued to fester. She would not be left to think on those long as the woman's words hit her and she smiled at them. The galaxy going to hell was certainly familiar, having seen that happen many times in her past and Alexandra smiled at the joke that Yasha had been trying to make. It felt good to have someone trying to lighten her spirits and Alexandra was happy for that.

She was also happy when the woman spoke as to who she had come to see Alex as, or rather what Alexandra should see herself as. A star, a shaper of the galaxy, someone who looked on others with authority and rather than let her continue that line of thought, Alexandra would reach up and place her own hand on the woman's lips even as Yasha placed Alexandra's other hand on her own heart.

"I am no authority, I am an example, if anything. A warning about the dangers of one's pride and what ambition can get someone, or greed rather... Thank you though Yasha, your words are nice." She smiled and closed her eyes again, leaning against the woman.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“No… Ambrose is better at this…” Yasha shook her head, pieces of raven hair falling out of its crown braid. “You are in a position of leadership. It was given to you to lead, and to be counted among the powerful in the Galaxy. Thus, you are fierce, and everything I said. Those of us in such positions do not have the luxury to belittle ourselves, or count our abilities less than they are. If we do, we’ll never make it out alive. Why else do you think Ambrose and Tuulu brought me to a planet outside Mandalorian space to heal? Nobody could see that I was shaken. Not if I was in armour all moments.”

No more than now was Yasha’s upbringing coming to the fore. Trained with little to no female influence, and pushed at a young age to take the position she had now, Yasha lived a relatively sheltered emotional life, when Aruetiise were concerned. One acted with the purpose they were given. They pushed until they dropped. They did not doubt their abilities, for that doubt was what caused good warriors to fail.

If Yasha lost her footing, or fell to self-doubt, she knew absolutely her throat would be cut before nightfall. Ruthless was the Mantle upon the young mother’s shoulders.

“Doubt is more dangerous than fear.” The Panathan accent filtered out of every word, as [member="Alexandra Feanor"]’s fingers pressed on Yasha’s lips. Yasha pursed her lips, brushing the digits the Jetii placed there. Taking Alex’s hand, Yasha kissed the back of it, once. Twice. She snuggled Alex up in her arms, head leaning against the bark of the tree.

How did she find herself here, cuddled up with a Jetii post-healing? Raw and revealed? Nuzzling her nose in Alex’s hair, Yasha sniffed in the elder woman’s scent.

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

Alexandra just sighed as the woman mentioned how doubt was more dangerous. She had see that in its own line at work and it made her think of her children, and the doubt that led to her losing them. They weren't dead but she was not around them like she could because of that.

But that thought soon returned to the back of her mind and she simply leaned against Yasha, happy to just have support for once considering how long she had been alone in this forest. It was strange given the situation and she was surprised that she was just sitting here with the Mandalor, bodies close. Honestly it was the last thing she would ever come to think would happen and all of this made her wonder why things had progressed like this but in the end that too faded to the back of her mind. Instead of wondering about it, she ended up just accepting it was happening and relaxing further against Yasha.

A thought did crack a smile on her face and she soon glanced out of the corner of her eye at Yasha, speaking with a grin.

"Imagine what your people would say seeing this, or for that matter some of the more... orthodox Jedi. That would give them a heart attack with horror on their face." She would admit that the joke was weird and oddly placed, but Alexandra was out of her element right now and honestly had no idea what to do or say that would have been a better joke.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Ultimately, Yasha’s inner nature was known by scant few. The young Scion was too well managed, too controlled in her behaviours for even close companions to see as much as [member="Alexandra Feanor"] saw through the experience of healing the Infernal.

It was her first healing, a solemn and sacred forbearance of which powers Yasha was no longer ignorant. Truth be, the young Epicanthix was still half-dazed and basking in the afterglow of the tree. She cuddled Alex up, back feeling the buzz of the tree’s illuminated bark. A hefty sigh flowed from her burbling lips. Hand grazing up and down Alex’s side.

Alex’s joke got a loose chuckle, Yasha’s fingers running through the elder woman’s ginger locks.

“Heheh oh gosh, totally. Oya, is that the Mand’al-oohhh and the Jetii grand-oooh tut tut! I hath seen too much! It’s too much to handle!” With a gregarious flop, Yasha slumped down on the grass, rolling Alex atop her. A loose arm held Alex’s waist, the other flopped on her eyes with mock shock. “I, the traditional Mandalorian and Jedi am dead! Passed out! No longer with us from the horror! The hoooorrrooooor!!!”

Bursting out with a giggle, Yasha peeked between her fingers. She leaned up and kissed Alex’s nose.

“Aaauuggghh!! Hoorroooooooor!” And promptly pretended to faint. Again.