Private Trials and Tribulations

[Saahar]

Saahar's fingers tapped around the training saber in her hand almost resentfully. The weapon felt dead. A hunk of plastic in comparison to her actual blade which, as it stood, was now informally stuffed under her bed, never to be touched again. Sure, maybe sealing it off had been exactly the metaphor she needed to scrub off the remnants of her old life, but another part of her -the more irrational part- simply wanted the familiarity. And after hours of tirelessly going through the motions and fending off imaginary opponents without the typical drill sergeants biting at her heels, that was doubly true.

She'd only been off her regular training regime a week and already the callouses on her hand had begun to soften. That wouldn't do. No matter how hard Valery tried to imprint a feeling of warmth, and safety, and trust, Saahar refused to take the bait. Because it had to be bait....right?

With a loaded sigh escaping her lips, Saahar's shoulders slacked, returning the training saber to its rightful place and taking a cloth over her face to wipe off the beaded sweat.

Rik Perris

 

[Rik Perris]

Location: New Cov Jedi Temple
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tag: Saahar

Meeting and getting to know Valery Noble outside of the context of the Order or her position within it, before those realities came to light, was somehow both a blessing and a curse. Truly, to be acquainted with such an alluring woman as a person first, then to be subjected to the imbalance presented by her position as the Grandmaster of the Order would be awkward for most that had eyes and a pulse.

But he navigated that minor turbulence with a maturity that might have been beyond his years, if not for the fact that a fair measure of the past decade had put him in the position of managing others in the milieus of conflict both adversarial and interpersonal. Rik knew his way around people; such that when Master Noble came to understand his position - in effect coming into the Order from the outside and why he had taken to the path of the Wayseeker in the first place - and a measure of how his mind worked and how he handled himself, it was clear to her where he could start making himself of use.

Rik had only hesitated in accepting for a few moments, recognising the ways in which he might feel unmatched to the task, but the opportunity resonated exactingly with that defining point of his past. That in some way going through with this could offer him some peace. And maybe firm up his own trust.

It would be hard to say no.

Which was how he ended up with boots on New Cov to establish a rapport with an erstwhile young sithling that could stand eye to eye with him, and was slow to trust. To ultimately gain her trust and draw her out of herself. The very girl he had been observing silently for the past handful of minutes, his form propped against the threshold to the space, arms crossed, his senses picking up on her frustration and resentment.

“Doesn’t look like you were enjoying that,” he spoke plainly, announcing his presence as she wiped her brow; never mind that true enjoyment of the fight and the thrill of battle were not touchstones of combat for all but the most grounded of Jedi, “Why?”

 

[Saahar]

If Saahar's blade had been real, Rik easily would have found his head lopped off and rolling on the floor. But given she was only armed with a sweaty rag and poor emotional regulation; her reflexes only saw her slide back like Rik was some sort of blinking detonator, expression equally alarmed and guarded. The girl hadn't sensed him. As gunhoe as she was about this whole "never let your guard down" bit, somehow an entire Jedi slipped her radar, just casually spectating as she took her anger out on the unoffending air around them with a stick.

She would've felt embarrassed if she wasn't so pissed.

"Who the feth are you?" The girl recovered, albeit stiffly. She looked at the man with more immediate confusion than anger, like she genuinely believed it was impossible for him to be here, asking her a question. Outside of the occasional exchange with Valery or Kahlil, New Cov had been generously empty. Clearly, she'd gotten too comfortable with the solitude. "Why are you here?"

It was then the initial surprise seemed to abate and his question registered. No doubt her frustration was roiling like smoke thick enough for anyone to parse out. Damn Jedi and their stupid empathy. "If I enjoyed bating at the air with a stick, I think that would indicate a much deeper issue." She deadpanned, dodging the sincerity he was digging for. No of course she wasn't enjoying herself. She was confused and alone and terrified in enemy territory. Besides training was about necessity not enjoyment.

Rik Perris

 

[Rik Perris]

Location: New Cov Jedi Temple
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tag: Saahar

She had been too mired in her emotions to notice his approach, and her reaction to him was but one outcome. She could very well have done any number of things - she could have blatantly ignored him, or thrown the stick at him, as a couple of possibilities, he'd put up with all that and more - but all she gave him was surprise and confusion, rather than what still roiled beneath it.

Rik didn’t move, save for the slight raising of both his eyebrows; that was all the response her initial reaction and non-questions got… but to be fair, he wasn’t all that easily identifiable as a Jedi, owing to the fact that it wasn’t a burlap sack robes that hung off of him, but more technical fare that might've painted him more like an off-duty soldier or spacer than anything else, and the unlit lightsaber hilt on his hip didn’t necessarily say 'Jedi' either. He could be anything.

Rik simply continued to observe, brown eyes following her, waiting for her to parse this new situation, and for her to actually answer him. Or dodge the question, apparently, and go after his choice of words.

“Wasn’t talking about the instrument, but the practice,” he countered as he pushed away from his lean, standing up on both feet, unfurling his arms as he did so, “shouldn’t matter what you use.” Rik slipped one hand into a pocket of his trousers, while the other gestured to the rack of training sabers. “The katas don’t change just because you’re using a stick.”

The gesturing hand dropped to his side thereafter. A stick was still a rather productive weapon in the right hands, but he wasn’t going to go off on that tangent - it simply wasn't the time. Rik stayed right where he was, seeing no reason as of yet to step any further into the room.

“Rik Perris, Jedi Knight,” he introduced, looping around to answer her non-questions anyway, “Master Noble sent me… and before you even think to tell me to feth off, lemme tell you that I’ll be here long as I need to be. So, Saahar--” a corner of his mouth pulled up a little, “--how’s about you make this easier for the both of us, and tell me about this beef that you’ve got with the stick.”

 

[Saahar]

Saahar didn't like how he knew her name. Nor did she like his composure. She wanted him offended. Angry. She'd even take mildly inconvenienced. Conversations were easier to navigate that way, when everyone's cards were forced on the table. But the way he brushed aside her agitation, as if he was simply watching a tiger pace behind reinforced glass- like nothing she could do or say would reach him. Now that irritated her.

No one had ever shown her patience before, so naturally it felt like a threat.

"Great." She deadpanned, "Valery sent me a therapist."

This wasn't going to end well. She didn't want to be figured out. Her can of worms was best left closed.

"The weight is different from my usual lightsaber. It's throwing me off." She finally answered,"That tends to frustrate people." It was an empty response. She knew it. And she knew he knew it. But being difficult on purpose was the only real power she felt she had at the moment, and by God she planned to abuse it.

"You know my name." She raised an eyebrow in scrutiny, "I'm sure Valery happened to spare a few more details before tossing you in here." With a stern look her head canted to side, "Wanna take a wild guess why I might not be enjoying myself."

A Sith in a Jedi temple. It was perhaps not a recipe for success.

Rik Perris