Private To a Flame

[Arris Windrun]

Neriah Calven

It didn't click right away that Neriah had tried to heal her, but when she finally processed it--just as the acolyte vented--Arris felt sick to her stomach; twisted up inside at how wrong it was.

From her one knee, Arris managed to rise further and staggered when she stood - she touched the exposed armor where lightning ripped her flesh. It was a surreal experience, even after all this time... maybe you were never meant to get used to feeling metal where your brain expected bone and flesh. Her expression was somewhere between a pained wince and a scowl; particularly difficult to read as nerve responses in synthflesh lacked the impulses of the real deal.

Memories continued to flood back, and she finally pieced together all that happened, right up to when she was knocked out.

"Well shit..." She looked at Neriah with half a frown. "You did everything right, girl." Her voice still crackled.

Arris slowly spun around, taking in the sight of the energy yard. Everything appeared in working order, and so the Dark Horse limped back inside.

"Let's check it out."

The viewscreen displayed the entire district's power grid, with individual blocks, complexes, and buildings all listed out as nodes.

There was a single prompt: {{Restore global power.}} [Yes][No]

With a single press, she could return power to the Dark Lands for the first time in thousands of years.

She pressed "no."

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

Warmth. A rare feeling for Neriah recently. As the Dark Horse said she had done everything right, a rare feeling of pride and accomplishment came to Neriah. It felt like she had done something right. Of course...positive reinforcement may not have been the best idea, when it was reinforcing you to a Dark path...but Neriah would take any sensation of warmth right now, to fill the cold empty feeling that she had been surviving with the past few days. Surviving. Not living.

She swiftly followed beside Neriah, staying close in case the instructor needed to lean on her, though she doubt that would be the case. Arris wouldn't show some form of weakness in front of an Acolyte. Neriah doubted Arris would show weakness in front of anyone. Either way, she followed over towards the viewscreen, watching and waiting for Arris to hit the confirm. To accomplish what they had came here for...so when Arris hit no, Neriah felt...confused. Not angry. Not even surprised. Just...confused as to what was going on, as her gaze flickered over towards Arris.

Maybe Neriah should have stopped Arris. To hit the yes option herself...yet she found herself strangely not caring. Why did it matter? Even if they gave power back to the people of Nar SHaddaa, at least in this sector...Their lives wouldn't get better. They'd be stuck in this hell. In the same hell as Neriah. And even if she could pull them out of it...why would she?

"...Why?"

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Arris turned to Neriah. "Most of these people live their whole life with minimal power."

She gestured towards the screen. "Besides, the grid has been unmaintained for a long time. Could blow somewhere down the line and start a fire."

There were a whole host of rational reasons not to, but none of them were the truth. Certainly not the answers she gave. In a way, the Talusian didn't really know herself... she had an idea more than a plan, but for now, those were the answers she'd reveal.

Her metal hand reached out to pat Neriah once on the shoulder, and she fought through the pain enough to muster a grin. It helped that enough adrenaline now flooded her bloodstream to dull it.

"For now, we have power to the building and a switch on the grid."

She turned back to face the screen, a hand on each hip as she looked up.

"Power is everything, ain't it? Lights, water, factories, hospitals... hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, live down here in this little quadrant."

The cyborg turned to face her again. "Every single day, on every world in the Core and then some, a person has their finger on the switch.

"What the Hutts did to the people down here... the same could happen anywhere - Coruscant, Corellia. Fucking funny how we owe our lives to techs who probably hate their jobs, yeah?"

Each syllable crackled with a gradient of severity as the quality of her damaged synthesizer waxed and waned.

Neriah Calven

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"No. I mean, why did we waste our time here? Are you planning to extort the people here for access to power? To make their lives worse?"

As much as she might have had some form of loyalty to Arris, perhaps because of the small amount of kindness the instructor had shown Neriah, that didn't mean the Acolyte believed her to be someone good. Believed her to be better than someone who would extort innocent people.

"Power is everything to those who don't know how to survive without it. Be it electricity, strength or even the Force. Those who can survive without will always be more powerful than those who have it."

Those who knew how to live off the land didn't need electricity. Those who survived off hiding and relying on those stronger than them didn't need to live with strength. And those who didn't have the Force didn't struggle in its absence. Even those who were dead to the Force could survive better than a Force User.

"Few people in important roles love their jobs. And those who do are more than likely not doing their jobs properly. A true leader of a planet shouldn't take joy in their responsibilities. Yet there are some who do. Those who take advantage of their people...but it's not my problem."

Neriah and Arris had different backgrounds. It was why they saw things differently. It was what caused their different skill sets. But at the same time...It was strange. Neriah would have assumed this is the kind of life style Arris was more experienced with. That she'd have more in common with that of the people of Nar Shaddaa than with Neriah herself.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

"Power is everything to those who don't know how to survive without it. Be it electricity, strength or even the Force. Those who can survive without will always be more powerful than those who have it."

"So you think they're better off, stronger for it?"

Once, and not terribly long ago, Arris would've agreed with Neriah's assessment. She had seen the contrast in how people live, perhaps not in the same way, but on Talus. On one end, some people had everything. Sure, some were middle class, others filthy rich, and practically nobles - hell, some claimed to be, even thousands of years after the monarchy ended.

The other end, though? The end where Arris grew up? They were left alone. Sure, their streets had access to power, but it was a world within a world. The other side had market streets and professional services. Their side had black markets and homebrews, and specialists were tightly controlled by the gangs. They had to make sense of life for themselves, build a society that worked for them. It certainly wasn't perfect, but it was theirs, even if they had their own share of power-hungry psychopaths.

What Arris realized, though, was that survival and power didn't always align. The weak did survive... all they needed was a chance.

She tossed a glance at the screen, and that is exactly what she saw: a chance.

"And why isn't your problem?" She asked.

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"What I think doesn't matter. It won't make things better for them. It won't make things easier. All that matters is how they view it themselves. There will be those who see the power going on as a blessing. But also some who will dread it. They'll count the days until it goes off again. There will be children who more than likely will never have seen anything anything as bright as a light turned on at night."

To assume that her opinion held any weight, that it would make things better for anyone was pure arrogance. She would not make anyone's lives better. She was no hero. She was not a Jedi. Whilst turning the lights on may help in the short term, would it truly help in the long term? Would it truly help anyone? Would it not be better for them to learn how to survive on their own terms. With their own hands. Neriah would not always be there for them. If she had it her way, she wouldn't be there for anyone.

"It's not my problem, because ultimately, I do not matter. Compared to those of a Senator, a Sith Lord, a Crime Boss, I am but a single drop. Not even in an ocean. In a puddle. The strong will always trample over the weak. No matter how strong the weak may think they have gotten."

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

"Yeah," Arris snorted. "I thought that kinda shit, too, when I was your age."

It wasn't often that she pulled the whole "Yeah, well, I'm the older adult, and you're basically a kid" routine on someone. Deep down, the only reason she had said it was to gaslight herself that somehow this was all normal.

The woman sighed. "Y'know how I made a name for myself, yeah?" Naturally, she was referring to the Galactic Kaggath.

Arris fought and killed her way, surviving deadly falls, Force-hunting beasts, and toxic fumes. She killed one Sith, fought a Jedi Knight who would soon fall after that, and even defeated the Emperor's Hand. All of it felt like nothing, though, when Mercy beat her down. Even now, Arris still felt bitter and angry at that - not at Mercy, but herself, and the ones she held responsible.

"Mauve..." The Talusian sank back and sat on the console.

Thankfully, her ass hadn't touched any of the buttons, or things might've gotten more interesting than dreary. No, Arris was mourning again out of self-pity. It wasn't many days ago that she had shot (and believed killed) Mauve du Vain.

She shook her head and continued in her broken voice after that awkward pause. "I did not matter... Well, except to bettors, I suppose, but how is that different from you mattering to the Academy?" It was blunt and reinforced at least one part of Neriah's narrative.

"Mattering doesn't mean shit. Mattering is just a way of being seen, and being seen sucks nine times out of ten."

A bit ironic given that being seen was all Arris desired, but at the same time detested. In her ideal galaxy, she would have control over those perceptions, but that was not an ambition she felt would ever be hers to win.

"You're right, though... the strong can trample the weak, and sooner rather than later, trampling is the easiest thing to do."

Okay, pep talks were really not her thing, but she did have a point and finally arrived at it.

"Just... get good at something, okay?"

Perhaps she would do well to take some leadership training classes.

Neriah Calven

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"You went through some Life or Death tournament. You proved yourself in a battle. I can't do that. I can't fight. And that gets people killed."

She wasn't cut out to be a Sith. And in Neriah's eyes, she wasn't cut out to be a Jedi either. Neriah raised her eyebrow as Arris tried to compare her situation to the Academy. Did she genuinely not understand how it worked? Or perhaps she did. Perhaps that was why she was saying it. As if she was testing Neriah.

"Because I can't do kark for the Academy. You could do something for the bettors. You could earn them something. I can't earn anything for the Academy. I can't fight. I'm not possessed by some fire breathing demon. I'm not graced by Force given skills and able to excel like other Acolytes. I can't manipulate people and have them dangling by a thread. All I can do is be a punching bag. No-one cares about a nerd."

Trampling might be the easiest thing to do, but even she would still struggle with that. She couldn't do it. Arris could tell her to be good at something, but none of what she was good at mattered ultimately. Not with the reputation she had now.

"I'm a target. That's all I'll ever be. And no-one cares what a target thinks. When you shoot at a target, at a bullseye, you don't think about what they're thinking. You don't care about what went into making that target. What had happened to it in the past. No. All you care about is hitting it. And that's...all anyone in the Academy cares about."

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Arris listened to the young woman, listened as she vented some of her pain, and how it shaped her perceptions of the galaxy and her reflection within it. Clearly, Neriah saw herself as less a someone, and more a something... and in the most negative sense, it would seem.

Though as she continued to vent, Arris grew more and more frustrated by the acolyte's words. Not because of how they were directed at herself, but how they brought out Arris's own doubts. How Mercy left her with all this responsibility on Narsh to go play Warlord.

In one swift motion, Arris had a gun in her hand, and the cold barrel pressed against Neriah's throat right as she had just finished calling herself a target, and all that it entailed.

"A target?"

Her finger wasn't on the trigger, but some semblance of responsibility did not undo the life-ending threat it represented. Perhaps especially because it was Arris who held the gun. Hell - if Neriah was a target, then Arris was a gun. Mauve wielded her as one, didn't she?

"Do you really believe I don't fucking think about it?" There was no chance, hiding the distress in her voice.

The cyborg's eyes had gone wide, revealing the wiring behind them in the tiny gap, though only for one who looked keenly.

"It's the only thing I can think about! At any moment when I stop, when I'm not talking," her raised voice caused the synthesizer to break down even more. "Did she even know it was me? Did she have time to hate me for it?! Could she ever be as disgusted at me as I am?"

The Dark Side had twisted itself inside Arris like a thorned bramble, and now it pricked away against the vulnerability that no armor could guard.

Chaos... Was she really doing this?

Neriah Calven

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"Do it."​

Neriah said rather simply. Void of emotion. Void of any fear. Even as the barrel was pressed up against her throat, her gaze didn't flinch anywhere beneath her glasses. Death hadn't been something she was afraid of. It was something she had been looking for everytime she had been ripped away from her past life. She had wanted to die as a Jedi. But that was too late now. Perhaps she could die before she became a Sith however.

"You shouldn't care what a target thinks. Look at yourself. Because of it. You told me earlier. If something stands in your way, you draw first and pull first."

In a way that spoke to what Neriah wanted. In this moment, Arris was not something standing in her way. If anything, she was what Neriah wanted to put her down the way she wanted to go. Yet for the slightest moment...there was a flicker of some kind of emotion on Neriah's face. Sympathy. She had no clue what was going on in Arris' mind. She was clearly suffering. But Neriah was not one to help fix this. She was not a therapist. Even the Sith wouldn't have therapists.

"You did what you had to do, Boss."

What was she meant to call her? Instructor didn't work. She couldn't use her first name. Either way, Neriah just kept her gaze on Arris. She could see the way the Dark Side was twisting inside of her. Twisting and turning inside of the instructor. Something was eating her up inside. What it was, Neriah couldn't figure it out.

"If you expect me to beg for my life, or apologise for what I've said, you are going to be disappointed. I stand by what I've said."

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

"Do it."​

She had spoken over Neriah before those two words actually hit her.

Arris paused as guilt sank in her chest, crushed down until it settled into more shame. Then, the acolyte used her own words against her. After that, she called her "Boss." That is what Arris had called Mauve. A real cliche, truly, but the meaning had been internalized so deeply that she imagined the Zeltron's face when Neriah said it.

Finally, the once Jedi stood her ground. Made sure that the cyborg knew she wasn't going to adjust to some narrative in order to die.

So when it wrapped back around...

"Do it."​

When those words echoed in her mind again...

Her gun slid away from Neriah's neck and fell with her arm at her side. Arris dragged herself away on two unsteady feet. Her hands would have been shaking were they not cybernetic. Instead, she was able to reholster her weapon without a twitch out of place. Arris even noticed that detail, thought about it, and then she noticed her reflection on a blank viewscreen.

For the first time in years, she saw whose face it really was - nothing about her was authentic.

She took a deep breath, wishing it was ever as satisfactory as when her lungs were organic, and exhaled. It was like flipping a switch for her.

Arris turned around, her body language relaxed, and her tone back to the way it was (albeit still broken).

"Targets don't cut people to pieces with their tongue."

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

To say she was disappointed would be an understatement. Disappointed, as the barrel that had been pressed against her throat was holstered. In a way however, it proved that whether she liked it or not, Neriah was a survivor. Whether she meant to or not, she would find a way to survive. Find some way to get herself out of a jam.

"Most people don't care what their targets say. You clearly aren't most people. My tongue means nothing to the other Acolytes."

Neriah turned her gaze towards the viewscreen, staring at her own reflection, unblinking. In what hadn't even been half a year, she had already changed more than she expected. The warmth in her eyes. The joy that she once held. It was all gone. Stolen from her. Replaced with nothing but an empty hole that wasn't filled. Even her anger, her hatred, her bloodlust to kill Kirie , it did not sustain her. Like any fire, it burnt out quickly when there wasn't any fuel to keep it burning. And when that flame burnt out, it just left that cold hole once more.

"I can beg for them to stop. To stop destroying what belongs to me. To stop stealing from me. But they'll never listen. Because they're strong. And I'm weak. The one thing I have that they don't, my lightning will do nothing to them. Their power. Their strength. It trumps over me. Nothing I have will ever belong to me again. It is only a matter of time before they try to take this from me."

Her hand reached down for her lightsaber, lifting it from the belt as she ignited the blade, the purple glow illuminating Neriah's face for a moment even as she continued to stare at the viewscreen.

"Nothing is mine anymore. Warmth. Joy. Belongings. Life. All I have is anger. Wrath. And even that runs out eventually. I can't live, fuelling myself with that. All I have to look forward to every day is the next method of torture."

Even now, her voice didn't wave. Her gaze didn't wave. Just firmly settled on the reflection staring back at her.

"I can't go home. I have no home. Not anymore. The Jedi won't accept me. I'll never rise higher through the ranks of the Covenant. This is how I'll live. Until someone finally closes my eyes. All then I'll be forgotten. Not even a footnote in someone else's story."

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Arris was annoyed again, but not in a way that drove her to anger like before. There was no second guess on holstering her gun, though the one thing she did do a second time was exhale, as a sigh.

It was just then and there that she finally realized what Neriah really was: young.

"I've spent enough time around some to know damn well you can hurt them," she said. "And what of those who have died already?"

Like the one promising acolyte who simply died because he failed to assess a trap in the restricted section of the Red Library. He was all power, no brains.

She pointed her finger towards the window and the energy yard beyond. "Focus on what you actually do rather than what you imagine you are, yeah?

"'Cus it's starting to sound a little pathetic, kid. How did you feel when you killed the Gamorrean, or when you restarted the energy yard?"

Arris crossed her arms. "Pick whichever one made you feel good and let that feeling eat you up instead. You can thank me later."

Neriah Calven

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"Neither made me feel "good".

She said, still rather matter of factly, as she turned her gaze over towards Arris. A small ember of expression making itself known as she furrowed her brows together. Annoyance. Perhaps not Arris. Perhaps at herself. Who knows really?

"I felt nothing when I killed the Gamorrean. He died. I didn't. Simple. All I had in my mind was the best way to kill him. Do I shock him? Do I cause him to break his neck? And then I settled on what I did."

Perhaps Neriah was pathetic. Though in another way, perhaps some may say she was dead. Apathetic. What was the point in feeling good when she was surrounded by so much that made her feel like she was in hell?

"And I did feel power at the energy yard. But it didn't make me feel good. Sure. I turned on a bunch of pylons. What does that accomplish? It caused you to get hurt. If you died, I'd be karked. A fate worse than Death would await me back at the Academy. They need you. You're an instructor. I'm an Acolyte. One in a dozen. Easily replaced."

These were things that Neriah normally kept to herself. So why was she telling Arris? It was something she couldn't even figure out herself.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Neriah Calven

Why did their conversation keep reminding Arris of her past? It wasn't just what happened with Mauve, either. No, it took her back further than that, back to before the Galactic Kaggath, to before she arrived on Nar Shaddaa; before she was on the run. Conversing with Neriah was like dredging a trench at the bottom of some forgotten sea.

"Look," Arris rubbed the back of her neck. "I have close calls all the time, and that wasn't one."

She chuckled at the thought of something. "Hell, I didn't know I was Force-Sensitive until a Jedi explained it to me while we were sharing the stomach of a sarlacc."

The cyborg had been left to die there as punishment. She was only lucky not to be alone in there. What were the chances?

"A month before I arrived on Ruusan, I got my teeth knocked out by some chump on Nar Kaaga."

Arris thought about what Mercy had told her - about why they were doing this at all, why it was important.

"You are teaching them that life is screwed up, that nobody is gonna give them anything they don't take themselves, that they aren't entitled to anything not even if they call themselves Sith."

"They will be as hungry as we are, but twice as effective because they didn't have old decript men and women trying to control them into doing their bidding."

She thought to paraphrase, but... "Do you want me to leave you here?" It was delivered as a serious non-rhetorical question.

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"What I want?"
​

The Acolyte snapped slightly at Arris, as if she hadn't listened to anything else the cyborg had said. She had of course listened. She listened to everything. But that question. It had caused her to snap. To cause the emotionless state she was in to fracture ever so slightly as her eyes focused in on Arris.

"What I want, is to die. To stop feeling all this pain. To stop being treated as someone else's punching bag. But it won't happen. My body won't let itself cease functioning. When I was shot? My body refused to give into the pain. It just pushed itself forward. Against that Gamorrean? It was more of a reaction."

She started pacing. Back and forth. Up and down. Fidgeting away. The Acolyte was stressed. Clearly. As she went over things in her head again and again. Sprouting out what the first thing that came to mind was.

"I lost the right to live, when I failed my master. When I froze. And watched him die. Because of you. Your people. They killed him. He told me to run. And I couldn't. I couldn't even fight. I'm a coward. Always have been. Always will be."

Your people. The Sith. Something that Neriah still refused to call herself. Refused to believe that she was...even if she was an Acolyte. She continued to pace back and forth...though she had noticeably not answered Arris' question.

​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Had she been so angsty when she was younger? Arris wondered. There was a bit of guilt to the thought, knowing full well that Neriah's situation wasn't merely the product of her coming of age, certainly it was a difficult time in most lives... but Arris wasn't so vain or stupid as not to understand how fucked up things were for the abducted padawan.

Were she a better woman...

"He failed, not you."

She wasn't.

"He was bested - he died... and if he died to protect you? Then he failed the moment that choice was made."

Arris reached out to place a hand on her shoulder; not for solace, but to stop her pacing. She looked down at Neriah, with a face that offered no comfort except attentive eyes, which were perhaps no comfort at all.

"I don't really know what it is about Jedi, I've had it explained to me, but I honestly don't fucking care... I know enough to say that they don't protect you, though, just kinda prepare you to be dependent on them, yeah?"

She leaned down, so their eyes might better align. "That's why you're wrong... You're not going to be dependent on anyone. To kill you, to hurt you, to define your worth. You do a good enough job hating yourself, yeah? Don't need me for that."

Then, she straightened herself back up and released the young woman's shoulder (if the hand wasn't already rejected). Arris turned and walked towards the door. For now, their business here was done.

"You coming or staying?"

Neriah Calven

 

[Neriah Calven]

Tag: Arris Windrun

"No."
​

Another firm statement from Neriah, as she clenched her fists together, staring off into the distance. Unable to bring herself to look towards Arris, as the Acolyte somewhat was standing her ground. She had to correct Arris. It wasn't something necessary. needed but...she couldn't just stand here, with Arris' poor attempts at trying to comfort her

"Most...Padawans know how to defend themselves. Be it with the Force or a Lightsaber. I never could. I just...can't wrap my head around the Lightsaber forms. I'm...a terrible student. Both as a Jedi and as an...Acolyte."

She did more than a good enough job hating herself. In fact, one could say it was quite satisfactory. Not that she was focused on that however. Arris was preparing to leave. Giving Neriah the chance to go her own way if she wanted to. In the past, she'd have jumped at the chance. She could go back to normal. She could become a Padawan again...but in her eyes? That was impossible now. She was too far gone. To her, the simple Lightning she could was sign enough that she was beyond redemption...Even if the truth might be different.

"...Not like I have anywhere else to go. Of course I'm going."

​