Try to Get By on Bread and Water...

[Abaddon Velshaar]

Craving blood poured from the alter...

Korriban
16 hours after the bombs fell

Slowly, he sat up, his head pounding. He opened up his left eye, unable to open the right as it was caked in a mixture of blood, dirt, and concrete. He stood, his left arm hanging at his side. There was a massive amount of pain at the shoulder, he didn't try moving the arm. Propping himself up on the wall behind him, he took a few deep breaths.

Stepping forward, he climbed the stairs, each step agonizing. Finally he reached the doorway, his lone eye fell upon the destruction wrought. A cold shudder crept up his spine. Making his way down the path of rubble, he stumbled upon a burnt corpse. He kneeled down beside the dead man, trying to figure out if he knew the departed.

His heart sank as he realized who it was. He was leaning over the remains of his father. "I'm so, so sorry, father. I should've been able to save you..." He sobbed onto the back of his right hand. Realizing this was probably the fate of Deryk as well. As he wiped the tears from his face, he noticed a metallic shimmer under a bit of rubble.

Moving closer towards it, he recognized the shape of his father's lightsaber. His hand reached out, tendrils of the force calling to the weapon as it shot to his hand. He gripped the hilt firmly, hitting the button as the red blade sprang to life. A thought crossed his mind. He could end himself with his father's blade. He could be reunited with his family.

He flipped the switch again as the blade deactivated. Looking at the hilt, he slowly pressed it up to his temple. His grip tightened, as tremors began coursing through his body. His breathing became erratic as his thumb rested on the switch. But, he couldn't bring himself to do it, too gutless to commit.

"You karking coward!" he sobbed, falling foward against some rubble.


[member="Bethany Kismet"]

 

[Bethany Kismet]

Bethany Kismet was still getting accustomed to the feeling of a body around her again. She had spent forty years alive, and then over five hundred with nothing to contain her but the forest of Zonama Sekot. Going back to a tiny vessel of flesh and blood and bone had been an ordeal- painful truth be told. She had forgotten what heat and cold felt like. Discomfort, the hardness of the galaxy abounded. The lights were too bright, they hurt her eyes, and the wind too sharp against her skin.

And that was all before she had even reached Korriban itself.

It had only made sense to come here first, after leaving Zonama Sekot. After all, it was the events here that had, in many ways, been instrumental in others seeking her. It wasn't the first injustice in the galaxy since she had died- not by any stretch of the imagination. In truth, it wasn't even the worst. But it was the first that had called to her, triggering others to call out to her. She came here, not only to see for herself the destruction wrought, but also to find certain individuals. And maybe, just maybe, to help.

The dust was thick in the air, blocking out much of the already anemic light that came from Korriban's sun. Though it was midday, the city seemed settled in an eternal moment of twilight. The ruined landscape was ruled by silence, except for the movement of the wind, the cawing of carrion birds, and-

"I'm so, so sorry, father. I should've been able to save you..."

Emerald eyes flickering around, the Jedi Master paused as she crested a broken half-wall. Dressed in a soft tunic of dove grey, her long, black hair hanging loose down her back, the diminutive woman blended in to the burned and broken landscape. She couldn't see whoever had spoken, and she wasn't accustomed to that limitation. But he couldn't be far.

Bethany reached out with the Force, and that, at least, was comfortable and familiar. She started moving through the ruins toward the source of that anguish. She moved up the stairs, reaching the top to peer through the broken door way in time to see the end of the scene play out before her. She didn't move closer, somehow sure he wasn't going to go through with it.

"You karking coward!"

"It takes far more courage to live, than it does to die," came a soft, regretful voice from behind him. "Choosing life does not make you a coward."

[member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Abaddon Velshaar]

Her voice startled him as he turned, his back pressed up against rubble. A piece connected with his shoulder as he winced in pain. His Sith Academy uniform was shredded, brown hair filled with rubble and dust. His goatee matted in blood and debris. He was a mess. And she was pristine. So very pure. The light blossomed from her presence, and in her aura, he felt calmer.

But that meant she were a Jedi. Anger coursed through his veins as his one blue eye glared at her. His good hand still clutched his father's lightsaber. He held it out, pointing it at her. Running any Jedi through with this weapon would bring him the smallest amount of peace. But, he was so battered. He didn't have any fight in him. He brought his arm down across his lap, laying the hilt down.

"That's rich coming from you, innit?" he sneered. Wiping the tears from his face, he closed his one good eye. "Look around, love. You call this heroism? Your Jedi Code somehow justify all this, yeah?" He turned away from her, looking out at the dusty world. What used to be his home. "My little brother was out there... He didn't deserve to die like that. He was just a lad. He wanted to be a fighter pilot..."

His hand reached down as he squeezed the sand and debris. He felt something firm, not giving into his grip. Looking down, he saw a small silver glint. Digging it out, he realized it was his great-grandfather's flask. He dusted it off the best he could, opening it up. Taking a long drink, he realized it was full of rum. Taking it down, he coughed a bit as the alcohol burned its way down his throat.

Replacing the lid, he rested it on top of his father's lightsaber. His good hand moved up, unbuttoning the shreds of his uniform. Pulling it open, he revealed his tattered chest, exposing his heart. Once more, he turned away, looking off in the distance. "Let's not have this take longer than it has to, love. Strike true."

[member="Bethany Kismet"]

 

[Bethany Kismet]

She let him rail against her, silently taking in his words and placing them, one by one, against her soul. They fit, like interlocking pieces, with words she had worn before, the etchings matching up far too closely to ignore, even if she had wanted to.

But Bethany had no desire to ignore them.

"This is not heroism," she murmured, her voice heavy.

Slowly, she stepped through the archway, moving toward him, her emerald gaze never leaving his damaged one.

"This is dogma, run amok and without any balances. This is murder, in truth and in action. This is someone who has no right to claim Jedi for their own."

With each word she got closer, never wavering, never slowing, until finally, she stood before him. Very slowly, she sunk down to her knees in front of him.

"I am not here to kill you," she whispered. "Nor am I here to seek forgiveness for a crime that, while not mine, demands responsibility taken for it."

The ground beneath her was hard- shards of broken stone pressed against her knees, and she accepted that pain as only a token of what this young man was going through.

"I am so sorry for your loss. For everything that has happened. It is unconscionable. And vile. And if you'll let me, I'd like to help if I can, even if that means very little coming from someone like me."

​[member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Abaddon Velshaar]

His gaze returned to her, as he listened to her speak. Her voice hung on the dust, resting heavy on his mind. Each syllable calming him. There was something about her. Something that made him want to be a better man. Not because he was infatuated with her. She filled him with hope. Something about her soul made the Galaxy less dark.

For the first time in his life, he felt brave. He felt like he could take on a hundred men and best them all. He craved the feeling of the wind through his hair as he stood on the deck of a ship as it raced through the clouds. He could be free of this life that chained him down. Free of the Sith.

"You don't know a thing about me, love. My bloodline is dipped in darkness." He watched as she pained herself to be near him. The chunks of debris she kneeled upon digging into her. He picked up the treasure that rested on his lap, putting them within his pockets. Reaching to the top of the chunk behind him, he slowly picked himself up with a labored breath.

It took him some time, but he was able to stand to his feet once more. He held out his hand to her, helping her to her feet as well. He gave her a light bow, the best he could. "My name is Abaddon. Abaddon Velshaar. And I am a coward, unworthy of redemption." Slowly, he stood tall once more.

[member="Bethany Kismet"]

 

[Bethany Kismet]

Bethany had grown so accustomed to being part of something completely encompassing, sometimes so much that she couldn't tell where it ended and she began. Zonama Sekot had been more than home. It had been herself. Now, herself stopped at her fingertips. The sound of blood pounded in her ears. Her heart beat, alone, filling the silence in her body where there used to be an entire planet. She was so used to being filled with the life of others, a billion trees making up her physical body, that this tiny vessel was alien and uncomfortable.

Her own family- husband, children- all of the friends she had made in her lifetime as a Jedi, were dust. Over half a millennia had passed since her feet had walked this galaxy, and time moved on.

So she understood the soul wrenching loneliness she saw in his eyes. But where she'd had all of the time in the world to grow accustomed to part of it, and had been prepared for the rest when Zonama Sekot created the form she wore now, his pain and grieving was too new and raw to process. She had either come to peace with or chosen her particular flavor of loneliness. His, however, was not of that design.

"I was- am- Bethany Kismet," she said quietly, looking up at him. He was over a foot taller than the petite Jedi Master, but she didn't seem disquieted by it. "And there is no one too far gone, if what they desire is redemption. Only you can decide that. But I admit, Abaddon, that's not why I'm here."

She smiled then.

"I'm here because you are in pain, and if I can, I'd like to help. Some of it-" she looked around, the sorrow etched like scripted words across her face. "-Some of it, I cannot mend. But if you'll let me, I'd like to start with the bleeding and then see where we go from there."

​[member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Abaddon Velshaar]

Who was this woman that stood before him? What was it about her that seemed so foreign? She was clearly human, he could discern that much. But her reactions were so very alien. The sights and sounds that came with mortality seemed to be so very new and distracting for her. She seemed to be a woman not of this Galaxy.

Not of this time.

He told her to strike true, and she did. Her words pierced right through him. Only he could seek redemption. The decision rested on him. Made sense as he was the one who would have to run through the motions. Everything about this situation was heavy. From the grounds they stood on to the conversation they had. He had a lot to think about.

But, she then mentioned that she wasn't here for his redemption, but rather his injuries. As she smiled, he felt a friendly grin creep upon his lips. As heavy as the situation was, that little bit of banter seemed to lighten the mood. Dropping to one knee to close the difference in heights between them, he nodded.

"If you would be so kind, [member="Bethany Kismet"] of the Jedi. That has a bit of a terrible ring to it. Jedi Master Kismet, yes? That has a much nicer ring. But, I digress. It would be nice to see out of both of my eyes, and use both of my arms. I took quite a beating in the blast. If I may be so bold, would it be possible to go with you when you leave this place? I don't have anything holding me here any longer..."

 

[Bethany Kismet]

"Jedi Master," she conceeded with a nod, though there didn't seem to be particular pride in that statement. Simply confirmation of a fact.

"Let's start by sitting down and seeing what we can do, yes?"

She didn't answer his question right away. Finding a place that was as clear as possible, they settled down. Her fingers were light and gentle, barely touching him, cataloguing his injuries.

"The Force isn't magic," she murmured. "And healing with it, even less so. There are ways to.... get around.... the natural limits of the body. But it's dangerous, and frankly, a misuse. You're going to feel warmth, and then the pain should ebb. It's going to feel a little.... distant.... for a minute. And some people find that floating feeling alarming at first, so fair warning. Other people find it soothing, comforting. You won't know which way you'll react until, well, you do. So just try to relax."

Reaching out with the Force, it rose around her like a warm fog. She surrounded him with it, then slowly reached out to the connections within his own body. Healing was a multi-dimensional act for Bethany. She utilized minute actions with telekinesis to guide things that were out of place back to where they belonged, while increasing his body's own ability to heal at an astonishing rate. She couldn't replace things that had been destroyed- that was beyond anyone's skill with the Force.

As she worked, she spoke again, her voice very quiet.

"I will take you with me- if that is what you want, you don't even have to ask. But what do you seek? What is it you want to move on from here to?"

​[member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Abaddon Velshaar]

Finding a clear spot, he sat down so [member="Bethany Kismet"] could heal him. "Aye, love. They taught us all about the force in the Academy. Differing philosophies, mind you. I was well on my way to being a Sith Knight. If you could believe such a thing. They had wanted me to be a dueling instructor after I graduated..."

His voice trailed off as the force wrapped around him. He didn't realize how cold he was until he felt the warmth of her aura. He felt like he was swimming. A complete sense of weightlessness. He didn't panic. He didn't even think twice. Something about her inspired such bravery and trust in him.

Her words came through in waves, as he tried his best to concentrate on them. "When I was a lad, my grandfather used to tell me about this paradise world where a Pirate Queen was laid to rest. He made it sound so real. I'd like to see if such a world exists. I know my way around a ship. Maybe work my way up to Captain. Maybe find some of that redemption along the way..."

 

[Bethany Kismet]

A smile ghosted across her face. Her answer to his first comment was unintentionally cryptic.

"I can assure you, they did not teach you all about the Force," she murmured softly.

Reaching in to her bag, she removed a clean cloth and a disinfectant solution. She could use the Force in this instance, but Bethany never used it when hands and hard work would manage just as well. As the Force moved through him, seeking out internal damage and infection, she carefully wiped the blood and dirt away from his eye.

"Your shoulder is dislocated, but nothing seems broken. I'm going to have to reposition it before we do anything else. It's going to hurt, much worse, for a moment, and then feel significantly better. Are you ready?"

​[member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Abaddon Velshaar]

A low calm washed over him as [member="Bethany Kismet"] wiped the blood and debris from his eye. Slowly, after the rag had been taken away from his eyelid, his eye fluttered open. The light was a bit painful, but after he had time to focus, he could tell there wasn't any significant damage done. Light blue eyes rested on the Jedi Master as the Zeltron halfbreed smirked. "Well, maybe when you get into the business of taking on padawans, you could teach me a thing or two."

His tone was light, something about her presence calming him down. He was always so angry. Always so terrified. Perhaps the Force had brought them together. An intervention of fate that was showing him a different path. Perhaps the Sith didn't have all of the answers. Perhaps it would only make him stronger to learn both paths.

His curiosity was peaked, to say the least. However, her voice brought him back into the present. His eyes widened for a bit. Positioning himself so she could get the proper angle to fix his dislocated shoulder. Sighing to himself, he nodded. "Okay." But as she approached, he tensed up. "Wait! Wait... Please wait." His hand fumbled back to the flask as he popped the top off.

Taking a long pull of the rum, he replaced the cap. As the liquid burned down his throat, he took a deep breath. The air was slowly exhaled out of his lungs as he relaxed once more. "Kark it. Let's get this over with, love."

 

[Bethany Kismet]

The action was smooth and effortless. Utilizing the Force as well as her hands, it didn't require any particular physical strength from the diminutive woman. She didn't hesitate, actually applying telekinesis to guide the joint back in to place, rather than relying on an imperfect understanding from the outside. The technique meant that there was less potential damage being done to right this particular problem than their might normally risk being- the dislocation would be unlikely to repeat easily as they were so often prone to. Fortunately, there was no musculature damage, but she pressed lightly but firmly with one hand. Warmth flooded in to his shoulder, easing the pain of the muscles.

"Take it easy for the next few days. It will be sore for a while."

She sat back, watching him for a moment.

"Beyond the casual flippancy that I can see you wear like a cloak, I can see that you actually mean that. Wanting to learn. The question I have for you is- why? To what end?"

His answer now would decide much. Not if she would teach him or not. Bethany had already made that decision.

But how she would teach him.

[member="Abaddon Velshaar"]

 

[Abaddon Velshaar]

As [member="Bethany Kismet"] pushed forward, Abaddon flinched until there was the inevitable POP followed by the warmth of her healing techniques. He was in significantly less pain than he was when his shoulder was dislocated. "Karking Sithspit. What a rush. My many thanks, Master Kismet." he said, with a genuine smile.

His frown slowly faded as she spoke of his flippancy. She could see into his very soul. See things that he didn't want others to see. He looked within, trying to get to the bottom of his motivation. Why did he want more knowledge? Was it simply to give him more power?

"I don't want to be afraid anymore." he said, looking to the ground. At the end of the day, he was cowardly. Fear held such a firm grip on his heart. He wanted to be brave, but something prevented him from overcoming those fears. A light sigh escaped his nostrils as he shook his head at himself.

 

[Bethany Kismet]

If it was possible, her expression softened further.

"I have a secret for you," she said, her smile gentle but sad.

Slowly she stood up. Her full height was, to say the least, unimpressive. Bethany studied him for a long moment, as if weighing something.

"Everyone is afraid. It's not whether you are afraid or not, that sets you apart, or gives comfort or pain."

​She reached out, offering him her hand.

"It's what you do with the fear that matters. I can't teach you how to not be afraid, [member="Abaddon Velshaar"]. But if you like, I will teach you that fear is not a pathway in and of itself. That fear doesn't have to define who you are. I can teach you to find who you are without the fear- so that man can still stand tall when fear does come."

Her gaze grew a little distant for a moment, her smile fading ever so slightly.

"There is a code that the Jedi recite. It seems simple, on the surface.



There is no emotion, there is peace.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

There is no death, there is the Force
She paused then, focusing her attention back on his face fully.

"But that is flawed. A false understanding. There is an older translation.

Emotion, yet peace.

Ignorance, yet knowledge.

Passion, yet serenity.

Chaos, yet harmony.

Death, yet the Force
What, do you think, the difference is?"