The Night and the Silent Water (Complete)

[Kuzo]

The unsurity on her face turned into a weak smile, and she shook her head.

"I'm not going to get any more sleep anyway. And I thought the company would be better for me than an empty room."

Her smile warmed a little bit, and she chuckled softly.

"Nothing to apologize for. You were down right polite about it, and respected my space. Really, I couldn't ask for much more than that from anyone. I appreciate it."

Hesitating for only a moment, she sat down next to him, instead of across from him.

"It's kind of hard to talk about. After all, what would I tell people? No one knows where I'm from, what happened. And I think it's better that way."

She barely realized that, here she was, talking about it. Maybe not about the dreams themselves, but it was a start.

"I don't think it would be..... good.... if word of, well, the virus. How it's, I mean." Inside of me. "Anyway, I don't think I can trust most people to know. I... the first person to find out kind of tried to lock me in a box. So. And Boo.... he doesn't need that, you know? He's a kid. He's been through enough."

There were a lot of stops and starts. Verbal back tracking where she tried to clarifying or find the right words. This wasn't medical details about the virus, or Doctor Ven in any way. This was what he'd asked for. Just Irajah.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Making himself a little decent and less slovenly, Connor sat up and shifted a little to allow her to be comfortable, but he kept hold of the brown fabric and toyed with it. Maybe for security; a coping mechanism.

He just looked at her as she spoke, again noting her mannerisms. All perfect. Little stops and starts, the uncertainties, the worries. It was a good start, and the snowball could hopefully gain momentum.

"It's fine," he said softly, "go on. Take your time. I'm here."

There was no demand to continue, nor any sign of stopping. If she did either, it was her choice and he wasn't going to push her too much.

It was the careful negotiation through her minefield of memories and insecurities. Connor was adamant he'd make it to the other side alive and for her feel the relief after.

He sat, waiting. Just...there for her to continue.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

She was quiet for a moment, then pulled the throw a little more tightly around herself. It was more reflexive than conscious.

"I think it was the silence that was the hardest," she said quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap. "There were times when I thought I'd go mad from it. I didn't understand how I'd survived the virus.... just to succumb to the quiet. There came a point where your conscious mind can shut out a lot of things-" being surrounded by the dead - "But the silence was always there."

She smiled suddenly, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Early on, I had some manic idea that I could bury them all." Though she was looking down at her hands, it was obvious that she wasn't really seeing them.

She could almost feel the mud from the grave she'd dug her father. Thick and cold, sucking, pulling.

"I was almost too weak to even bury my father."

She closed her eyes, her throat tight.

[member="Connor Harrison"]
​

 

[Connor Harrison]

She was talking quietly, so much so the hum of the engine could be heard whenever she stopped to compose herself. Irajah wasn’t really there, talking, and Connor could tell that. But she was talking – that was a start.

There would be no intrusion of personal space, not like how he over-stepped the mark before. This was different – this was a complicated and possibly unsettling time for her, and he knew what not to do to make it worse.

His fingers wrapped around the belt and he pulled it gently, absently, as he listened.

"What happened there? The First Order? Sith? What changed? " Connor ushered.

The more she could unravel and get off her chest, the better she may feel and the more he would understand about her, for there was so much he didn’t. The planet, for a start, was key along with who held her strings and haunted her dreams.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

She wasn't entirely sure what he was asking. What had happened to her homeworld? What happened- how had she 'fallen in' with the Sith and the First Order after this? What changed? In her? It wasn't completely clear in the slightly muddled state she was already in. She frowned, noticing the white knuckles of her hands, how tightly they were clenched together, for the first time.

Slowly, deliberately, she loosened them.

"I decided to live," she said simply, deciding to answer the 'what changed' as it pertained to her. "I studied the virus, as much as I could with the limited means. I taught myself how to pilot a ship. Not well. But enough. I hoped to make headway against the virus infecting me, hoping I'd get stronger....."

She flexed her hands. Her tone clearly said she had not gotten what she'd hoped for in that regard.

"And I swore to destroy whoever had done it. Unleashed the virus. It kept me alive at times when nothing else could have."

She laughed then, a particularly bitter sound. The bitterness didn't leave her voice as she continued.

"Imagine my surprise when that search led me back to my father. He created it. Accidentally infected himself. And unleashed it when he died. He should have piloted his ship into a star, rather than risk everyone around him. He murdered two million people.... because he didn't have the decency to do what was right."

The last sentence- What she really meant was 'I should'. 'I should pilot my ship into a star.'

Like father like daughter. Too selfish to die.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor felt her aura spiking a little. In fact, the first time since he’d even met her in what seemed weeks ago – when literally it was hours – she showed a little fight in her. A shadow seemed to creep up behind her, touch upon her voice even.

When she mentioned her father’s fate, he swallowed at the gravity of the situation and how it must have felt for all involved. The millions who died, the father and the daughter.

Another interesting piece of the puzzle slotted into place that made up Irajah Ven.

The minefield was more inviting right about now.

"He’s gone now. " Connor leaned forward a little. "What he did, is done. Don’t punish yourself, Irajah. "

He looked at her, even when she was glancing down at her hands.

"Tell me what you want. Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Be honest – what do you want from this situation you’re in. I can help you. I can help make you stronger. You can punish anyone who has hurt you if it will help. You’re not weak. You’re not below anyone else. You're so much better than them. Remember that. "

Another careful step forward, carefully navigating her emotions.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

His words washed over her, some hitting so close and some passing parsecs away.

The anger, that fire for vengeance- it hadn't vanished with the understanding that there was no one to hold accountable. There was no where for it to go but in. It festered. And while she did a very good job of keeping it beneath the surface most of the time, sometimes, it over flowed. On Gap Nine. On Coruscant. No one had ever gotten hurt. But she knew it was there, waiting.

"What do I want?" She looked up at him suddenly, her face stricken.

"I want to live, Connor." Her tone was low, fierce.

Last time she had rolled up her sleeves, it had been slow, reluctant. This time however, the motion was swift, firm. The ugly bruises stood out stark against her pale skin, a constant reminder of everything she couldn't change.

"I want to not be in pain every waking moment. I want to sleep- without fear of going to sleep. There's no pain I could inflict one someone else that would undo what happened, or make up for it. Nothing that will change. I don't want to hide. I want to feel the sun on my skin without fear that if someone were to discover the danger that I pose that I would be locked in a box and tested. I've been there, I do not wish to go back."

Now she looked down again, some of the anger, the fire, fading.

"I want my life back before any of this happened. I want to love my father. Without the sword of what he did- and what he hid. And that's not something anyone has the power to return to me. So I will keep moving forward. Working to find a cure. Because the best revenge I can get now is to live."

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor looked at her arms without fear or worry, embracing her fears and worries as his own. To him, and others, she bore bruises and he knew people would stare, and gossip and wonder.

It was a sorry state of affair, but even more seeing this fire brimming inside the once placid Doctor Ven. The fire that was ignited by a choice not of her own making.

His face was set as she spoke, and it was hard hearing what she wanted, for he wanted to help make it happen. Nobody who gave so much deserved to life like she was - in constant fear. The hand moved from his belt and his finger and thumb started to rub together, trying to stay calm, but feeling the frustration rising for her.

"Let me help you, I beg of you Irajah."

He never stopped looking at her.

"I've not known you long but I feel like I've known you for ages. I understand part of your pain - the fear, the resentment and the anger. I know how it can hurt, I really do." It pained him to feel her suffering. "You deserve so much - "

The anger got the better of him and he pushed up and walked across the room and clenched both fists tight, feeling that urge for hurting those who hurt her. Who would judge her or point or mock. Pushing out a calming breath, he ran his hand through his hair and calmed down.

"I'm sorry. You deserve so much more. I will not rest until we find this cure. I won't see them put you down, or see you live in fear of what may happen. I won't allow it. I won't. I promise you, more than anything. On my life."

He hadn't felt this selfless about another in many years.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

She looked up, watching him pace for a moment.

There was too much going on to parse out individual emotions in that moment. After months of keeping such a tight lid on the anger, betrayal and despair, those things roiled inside of her, burning, chewing. It was one of the reasons she tried so hard to keep them under wraps. Under control. They ate away inside of her.

Of course, they still did that, even when she tried so hard to ignore them. It was just easier to pretend otherwise.

"You are helping, Connor," she said at last, her tone tight but sincere. Though she smiled at him, it didn't reach her eyes. It was the best she could do at the moment.

"I haven't-" She stopped, breathing in deeply and rolling her sleeve back down. Even here, even now, covering it was a second nature. "I haven't talked about this. With anyone. So. Listening matters. And you are coming with me to Panatha, someplace you may be at risk, to allow me to take some samples that I can use for that research."

According to the data from the original Gideon research, there was no cure. But that was over thirty years ago. There were things she could do, could try, that hadn't been available then. And her father had lived with the virus for that entire time- using the same technique she was. She had time. And she wasn't giving up.

The thought that her father had more training, more experience in the Force by the time he had been infected never occurred to her. Or that he may have had other techniques that had kept him safe for so long. As far as she was concerned if he could do it.... so could she.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Walking forward, he faced her again, and leant his hands on the table opposite, rocking back and forward, fingers tapping the edges.

"Well you helped me, so it's the least I can do."

He didn't look up at her; the hum of the engines filling the silence. A few little chimes from the cockpit.

"Ill listen as much as you need me to. I'll be here as much as you need me to." Right now, he wished he was stronger. And part of him wished he hadn't let himself get swept up with the good doctor at all.

Then, a stupid idea crossed his mind, eyes darting on the table to make quick sense of what didn't make sense.

"Let me train you." He spoke flatly. "You did your doctor magic on me, so let me do my years of Force magic for you. Help you understand what you have a little more, to control it a little. To use it."

He looked up at her.

"It may help you, in all sorts of ways."

To be honest, he was running out of options to make himself feel useful to her, and time was slipping away fast.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

If she could have read his mind in those moments, there were a thousand things she might have said.

Instead however, she just blinked at him in surprise for a moment. She didn't understand his motivations, couldn't possibly. But she also wasn't the kind of person who searched too deeply in that regard. People usually acted in their own best interest, she knew that. But when their interests intersected with her own, well, digging too deeply would simply drive you mad.

She leaned over the table, reaching out to slip her hands over his. Ducking her head slightly, she looked up into his face, hazel eyes searching blue.

"I don't need a teacher," she said softly.

She squeezed his hands gently, especially gently on the one that had been so recently fixed.

"I don't have the inclination.... or the time, if I'm being honest, to devote to learning how to manipulate the Force," she frowned slightly, but didn't let got of his hands. Her eyes didn't leave his face.

"I'm a Doctor... not a Jedi.... or a Sith..... I appreciate that offer, but that's not a commitment either of us can possibly make. I can't take that kind of time away from trying to study the virus."

"I don't need a teacher, Connor," she repeated quietly. "I need a friend. I'd like it to be you."

​​It might seem to him to be such a small thing. But the way she said it made it obvious that she didn't consider it small at all.

Just a friend? A small voice inside of her murmured.

No. But she didn't know what other words to use.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

He looked back down at the table, as her hand went over his and squeezed. Hand squeezing seemed to be the best they could do right now. Reassurance. That was all they needed, right?

And again, it was clear he wasn't needed - or good enough - to suit her, or to help. Not even trying to push a little of those mental barriers away for her, she still found a way not to let him totally in. Maybe it was the Jedi in him. Maybe it was that boring, doe-eyed Connor that people either felt sorry for or simply didn't really trust, and so hand squeezing and gentle declines were easier.

Friends. That was what he was needed to be. A friend.

His eyes moved from hand to hand, and then, closed. She would hear the sharp exhale through his nose as his hands remained unresponsive.

"A friend." It took a while, before he forced a nod. "I get it."

A low grunt of acceptance, before he pulled his hands away and steeled himself.

"Let's hope we're at Panatha soon. Once done, I'll be out of your hair. It's clear I can't help you except by just standing around, but standing around isn't something I'm good at while you...you torture yourself and don't let anyone in."

A curious glint crossed his eyes, and he cocked his head.

"Or maybe just not me. Is it me? Have I done something, or annoyed you? Or too Jedi-like. Not like your Sith or First Order friends, or the ones pulling your strings and setting you up with labs and resources. I just made the commitment, but you can't for some reason. I don't know why. You won't tell me. So, yeah. I get it. I'll be a friend. That's what I'm best at being."

He didn't want to look at her. Connor turned and pulled up his sleeves, before heading for a glass of water, which he necked.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah recoiled like she had been slapped.

The bewilderment and hurt on her face was written clearly, in strokes bold and broad. Her hands retreated slowly, long after he had withdrawn his own, sinking back into her lap as if drawn down by a great weight. Silence filled the lounge after he finished.

"Clearly..... I made a mistake...." she said, her voice cracking slightly. She looked down, swallowing hard and closing her eyes for a moment.

When she looked back up, her face was set. Her tone was stiff, carefully neutral, words chosen with an agonizing precision. But neither her face nor careful diction could hide the tightness in her voice. She stood up in a slow motion, not looking fully at him, but addressing the space he occupied.

"My apologies."

What, honestly, had she expected? She had met him that day. She had been straight forward, told him things she had told no one else, because..... why? Because she liked him. And saw a chance for something. She had told him more about herself, about what she was going through, than she had spoken aloud to anyone in a year.

She'd been charmed, warmed- and she had tried. Each time he had asked, pointed out that she was holding back, she had given what she could. This was what she had, this was the Irajah Ven he had asked for.

Insufficient. As always. What she was didn't live up to whatever mental image he had created of her. She had opened a door that had been shut for so long. And he sneered at the place she had built to keep herself sane. Alive.

Casual. This was why she kept things casual. If no one came in, they couldn't tear down the walls.

What an idiot she was.

"You have no obligation to come to Panatha, of course. That's not how a Doctor's services work. I am sorry that you thought that was the case. You have no obligation to- to be 'in my hair'. I will have Om drop us out of hyperspace immediately and set a course back to Dosuun. I apologize for wasting your time."

That was all she could manage. She turned, giving him no chance to respond. She kept her chin up, though as soon as her back was to him it quivered. Biting down on her lip, hard, she swept out of the lounge.

She kept it to a walk until she was halfway to the cockpit. Then she stumbled. She didn't run the rest of the way.

But she wanted to.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The silence was deafening and uncomfortable. Connor leant on the sink, wiping the water droplets form his mouth as Irajah moved around, he could feel her. She spoke, and it was more evidence that Connor Harrison would be better off dead and buried.

What the hell was wrong with him. Literally, what the hell was wrong with him?

Why did he push everyone away, and especially someone as selfless and kind as Irajah Ven? Just who did he think he was?

As she spat her final few words, he could taste the venom coated on each syllable and it hurt.

Looking back to the sink, a few drops of water distracted him for a moment from the tap. That peaceful drip…drip…drip….and then silence. The weight in his heart, heavy on him caused by his own idiocy and disrespect to others.

That was the Connor who deserved to be alone without those giving time to him. Wasting HIS time? She was wasting HER time by even being in the same room as him.

Annoyed at himself, Connor scooped up a glass in his good hand and squeezed it with little effort to cause a wonderfully spidery web splinter running up the side, and a satisfying crack. Dispensing it on the side, he turned back to the passageway where she had stopped, and he held his hand out, not that she could see with her back to him.

"Irajah."

He walked quickly across and out of the lounge, keeping his distance in the confined ship.

"Don’t, please. I want to go to Panatha…I’m, I’m sorry. Forgive me, I…." he sighed and dropped his head. "...I’m sorry, ok?"

He hated saying those words, and he never forgot lambasting Aria Vale for using them, but the more that happened, the more he saw the error in his ways and the faults on his path. If he didn’t act quickly, then it would another loss.

”You’re not wasting my time. Please don’t make me go now. I, just, I’m struggling with who I am recently, and, and I don’t know why I snap like this. Especially not at you. That’s the last thing I wanted to do." She wasn’t moving. "I regret talking to you like that, but you have no idea how much it means that you opened up to me, and how I respect you for that. I honestly do."

Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing he could turn back the clock. In the grand scheme of things, he was making himself look worse than any Jedi or Sith these people had come up against. At least they held values and morals and you knew where you stood. Connor was still the dangerous, blurred blob in the middle that people avoided like the plague.

”I’m sorry," came the feeble mutter under his breath.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

She was quiet for the span of several heartbeats after he fell silent.

Just moments ago he had sneered at the idea of mere friendship. Essentially called her a puppet, because he was angry that she would not dance to the tune he set. He couldn't unsay those things.

When she finally did speak, her voice was quiet, distant where before it had be present. She didn't turn to face him yet.

"You are closer to the Jedi than you'd like to admit," she murmured. She raised her head, but still didn't look at him, her gaze a little distant.

"If your desires and the way you'd like to view the world are more important than another's needs and the reality of what they are- then you're right. You are too Jedi-like."

She wasn't accusing. There was no anger in her tone. But there was a certain regret. If that was the case, then she had been a fool every moment since she'd met him. She knew the Jedi. Knew how they acted toward the rest of the galaxy, even as their words tried to convince otherwise.

You understand, I can't let you leave.

It's for your own good.

When people didn't fit into their narrow world view, they tried to change them. To fix them.

"I'm not a broken tool that needs to be repaired," she swallowed hard. "To be thrown away if the end result is not good enough. This is me. You don't have to accept that. But if that's the case, then you don't need to be here."

Irajah turned then. Her face was tight, as carefully controlled as she could manage in that moment. But there was no hiding the hurt or the hesitation in her eyes now.

"I accept your apology, Connor. But I need you to accept that in turn, you're not here to fix me, and that's not somehow my fault if that upsets you."

Not an ultimatum. Simply fact. If he didn't see her as someone, not a broken bird he needed to fix, but another human being, then she would return them to Dosuun immediately.

It seemed very little to ask. But on it she wouldn't budge.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Hurting Irajah was the final nail in the coffin for Connor. The sooner he could break away from the Jedi, the better. He would return to Voss after Panatha - by way of a little detour to Matsu - and leave. He was done.

He would not let their bit by bit breakdown of a once confident Connor spill over and ruin the rest of any future he had.

His wounded eye twitched, and he felt the moist coil of blood forming, which he quickly dabbed with his fingers and wiped away.

The fact he made Irajah feel like this was awful. And he was disgusted with himself and the Jedi for making him so...so...broken.

"I don't want to fix you," he said as she turned, "I want to help you. To support you. To help you do what you need to do, and to be there as you do it. I don't want you to change for anyone but yourself. I, for one, will not try to change you."

Twisting his stiff neck a little, Connor inhaled and nodded.

"Nothing you have said or done is your fault. And I assure you, the Jedi in me will not be in me for long. After we leave Panatha I'm going to the Silver Jedi and breaking free. Leaving it all. Forging my own destiny, not the Jedi one." He rubbed his face. "You are more important to me right now than anything else. Nothing comes close. So, I will be there to help you as I said I would. That's it. You won't hear another word from me on the matter."

Suddenly, his wounded hand started to burn up with an itch, and he began to scratch. Looking down, it was a little red, but not sore. He scratched a little more, feeling the relief.

"I'm sorry again, Irajah. You better go and...freshen up, relax a little. I'll give you a bit of space. Okay?"

He smiled and slowly backed away, before turning to walk back through to the lounge and the water faucet to splash some cold water on the skin. Whether it was irritation caused by his constant fidgeting or the conflict of eomotion he felt, the water felt good, regardless!

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

She didn't say a word. Just watched him as he backed up and then hurried into the lounge. Irajah believed he meant what he said. She accepted the apology and the spirit of his words. She also knew that actions revealed more about a person than their words ever could.

He had so far to go in ways that had nothing to do with the Jedi or the Sith.

And if he was going to, she knew what she had to do. It wasn't altruism that moved her. Just simple sense. For both of them.

Turning back, she headed into the cockpit. A few short words with OM-3.

Irajah headed back down the hall quietly, pausing in the door of the lounge. Her eyes cast over the scene, catching and holding the glass, spiderweb cracks shot through the surface. It reinforced her decision. His back was to her, the sound of water running filtering through the room.

"There's a tube of ointment, in the drawer on your right," she said gently, stepping into the lounge. "Once the coolness of the water has helped, you should use that. And that's definitely not what I call resting your hand. If you're not careful, you'll end up in the same position you were in before you came to Dosuun."

She paused, a small frown on her face as she tried to sort out what she needed to say.

"If I bring you to Panatha in the state that you are in, someone's going to end up dead." The words were blunt. Sometimes, that was the only path to take.

"The Lords of the Reach are unforgiving. And either they would kill you, or you one of them- and I have no desire to see either of those outcomes today. Not when it is easily avoidable. And if I'm being honest, no matter which happened, the potential to lose my access to the resources there is too high."

She watched him, not because she was afraid of what he might do, but because she didn't want to be misunderstood. Of course, there was always that possibility.

She was being practical. Doctor Ven for a moment, rather than Irajah. She had to be.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

He let his hand cool under the water, turning slightly and nodding. It must be some mild reaction – heightened emotion, stress…one or the other.

When she mentioned Panatha however, he stopped flexing his hand and his eyes moved the side, to focus his attention on what she was saying. The cold water numbed the hand instantly; that or the current distraction that made his physical irritation numb.

If.

She spoke more about those in high places who obviously had her back. And the message was clear.

Turning his attention to the tap, he slowly turned it off.

Letting the water drip from his fingers, Connor pulled up the damp cloth and dried his hand as best he could. He patted, rubbed and gently worked over it until it was dry. And then, he moved across to the right, pulled open the drawer, and there it was.

The ointment went on in a little blob and he rubbed it in. Not that he needed it. He didn’t feel a thing now. Tossing the tube back, he shut the drawer and looked up at the wall.

DON’T. Don’t.

He swallowed and felt cold. He turned around

"I take it by the trajectory that just caused the water to shift angle slightly, you’re turning us around? That or we’re going down."

It was clear which one. Irajah sat there, in control of everything.

"Alright. Just leave me where you found me, and you go back to your mighty Lords and your research. I won’t get in the way, and I won’t ruin your work."

Connor forced a smile. Boy, it was horrid to do. He glanced around and rubbed his hand gently, as if looking for something. Truth be told, he HAD nothing to look for, and now had a gut-wrenching journey back. Just like that. It was over. Finished. She was refusing his help. The dark forces on Panatha dwarfed him, and it was clear how low in the pecking order he was to Doctor Ven.

"Thank you." He nodded, holding up his hand. "Once again."

Now, it was awful. What could he say or do? He was trapped. Made to feel tiny and it was embarrassing, and the warmth of it ran up his back. He felt his breathing become tight, and he rested his brow in his hand, wiping the flick of hair away, before rubbing his fingers and thumbs together again.

"You better go and…." and what? "…contact your Lords or something. Prepare your work. I’m sorry, Irajah. This hurts, you know? This." He tapped his torso. "Just go. It’s fine.”

Well done, Connor. Well done. You really are a waste of oxygen. And they made it easy for you to be.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah sighed. There it was again. She wasn't sure entirely what it was, but it was part of whatever he had going that was holding him back. The recrimination and self loathing directly so deeply inward it was choking him.

Sure, she could go and sit in the cockpit. It was a tempting.

Instead she stepped fully into the lounge.

"You said it yourself Connor..... you don't know why you snap. This is me, believing you when you say that. And not being willing to risk the consequences of that- because it puts us both at risk. It would be supremely foolish to bring you to Panatha in the state you're saying you are in. If someone told me they were afraid of spiders, I wouldn't take them to Kessel. It would be unwarranted and cruel. I wouldn't ask someone with a broken leg to walk a mile without crutches."

She paused, shaking her head.

"Sometimes, reality isn't always what we want it to be. But it's better to face that head on than to make mistakes that can be avoided because of what we *want* to see. There so much going on beneath the surface with you- I can't even begin to follow it all, and I won't pretend I can. But it makes bringing you to Panatha dangerous. For both of us."

"I'm sorry that hurts you- it's not my intention, but feelings don't always work that way, I know. Intent isn't magic. When I tell you it's not because I'm throwing away your offer of help, I hope you believe me. That offer and this decision have nothing to do with each other. I can't make you believe that. But it's true nonetheless."

​[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

There was no point making it worse for himself, or her. More for him, really. He'd do that after she had gone.

He didn't move when she spoke, because it all made sense. It just hurt hearing the truth, but made it more and more clear what fate he had doomed himself to and what needed to be done to fix it.

"I understand. You know I wouldn't want to risk your life, or your work."

Turning, he cast his eyes over the sink, and the plates and cutlery. Smiling to himself, he picked up a cutting knife and turned to the cracked glass, and in one swift stroke he sliced down his palm. The blood seeped, and he squeezed, letting it drip down freely into to the glass.

As it stung, Connor closed his eyes and focused on accelerating the muscle and flesh healing process, making it scab a little faster and the blood flow reduce. He took a black dishcloth and wrapped it around his hand, and then turned.

"I promised you some blood, so I hope it helps."

Connor felt very silly, and very much alone, but he edged forward and sat at the table, trying to calm himself and mind his own business. It was hard to stay quiet, but he wanted to speak, but also didn't want to speak.

"If...if you need help anytime, you have my ships signal. Just shout," he said, meaning the otherwise futile gesture.

She wouldn't ever need his help. She was surrounded by far more powerful, assured people. He'd be forgotten as soon as she reached them on Panatha. This hurt. This was the price paid for devoting a life to the Jedi.

[member="Irajah Ven"]