Ask Lothal Kyber Fever

[Laeonas Tannaras]

​

Laeo hadn’t slept in eighty hours.

He didn’t dare leave the cockpit. He didn’t dare let go of the vibrosword in his hands, even as they trembled from how tightly he gripped the hilt. He couldn’t go back out there– they might be out there. They had only remained in his dreams before, tormenting him with their pain. Waking had always kept them at bay– the safety of the day was all he could hope for, but now even that was gone.

He didn’t even dare close his eyes. He went minutes without blinking, and his usually calm, appealing pair of sapphires were left bloodshot, veins bulging in his sclera. His feet were still throbbing with pain– he’d done a sloppy job pulling out the shards and applying bacta. He shivered from the cold, still naked from his hasty exit out of the shower, but all of the discomfort was worth it. He was safe in here. They couldn’t get him now.

He had to tell himself that in order to stop from breaking down again. He was safe here because he had to be safe here. If it wasn’t safe here, it wasn’t safe anywhere. Not when he was asleep, not when he was awake. Not when he was in his ship, not when he was out on the town, not when he was doing a job. At any moment, at any time, they could accost him, and there’d be nothing he could do but beg for help that could never come.

No. No, as long as he had a weapon in his hand, he was safe. As long as he could see all that was around him, he was safe. The force pulsed and shifted around him, giving him near total awareness of all that went on in the confines of the little room. The clicking and whirring of the ship in the background, the filtration system recycling air over and over again, the energy within the power cell in the small sack he had on the floor, all the parts for what he needed stashed inside.

Usually he’d be able to extend that awareness beyond the confines of a single room, but he was so gripped by terror that it didn’t even occur to him. He needed peace, calm to reach the full extent of his abilities, and days of sleepless paranoia had left a shell of himself.

When the ship beeped a warning that they were to drop from hyperspace, Laeonas let out a yelp, eyes wide and hands trembling as he turned, before slowly calming down.

He moved carefully through the ship, wincing with every step. He clutched his sword tightly in one hand, bloodshot eyes darting through the dimly lit corridors.

When he made it to his room, he slipped into his usual fatigues. By the time he landed, he was breathing a bit more steadily– barely.

He practically threw himself out of the ship when the ramp opened up, eyes darting around until he spotted a droid.

“Welcome to Lothal,” it chirped at him, in a tone of voice that was friendly and grating. “What can I do fo-”

“Temple.” He spat, voice quivering. The droid’s photoreceptors refocused on him once. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“How? How do I get there?” He asked.

“Can you perhaps clari–”

“JEDI! TEMPLE!” He snapped. The droid whirred and stood still, regarding him for a few moments. “...sir, I believe you may be in distress. Do you require h-”

“FINE!” He exclaimed, even as he visibly trembled, occasionally whirling his head around whenever someone passed or looked at him too long. None of them were burning, none of them were calling for his help. They were real– he was real.

The droid couldn’t feel it, but the force was roiling around him. Anyone close by could feel it– nervousness, uncertainty. People would begin to tug at their collars, or sweat, or start walking a little quicker.

“I’m… fine. Very fine, I’m good. I need to get to the Jedi temple though.” He declared. His voice was choppy, his tone uneven, the volume and pitch shifting with almost every word.

“Sir, the temple ruin has been sealed off from public access for years since the Mandalorian attack.” The droid answered. Laeonas stared at the thing, expressionless.

And without even touching it, he crushed it’s head like a tin can.

There were a few cries of surprise, but Laeonas walked off like he’d just finished a pleasant conversation. He remembered now; he didn’t need directions to the temple. How could he ever forget where it was after nearly dying to protect it?

And so, the exile began to move– and he wasn’t going to be stopped.

@HoneyMagpie

 

[Sybella Demici]

A storm was brewing. Sybella could sense it.

Not a literal storm, mind you, but the figurative kind, intangible in its nature. Perhaps it had something to do with her recent visions; they had guided her this far, to Lothal, though her actual purpose however remained unclear. The knight had learnt by now not to question the will of the Force; rather than fight it, she instead immersed herself within its cosmic embrace, allowing its influence to guide her travels. Of course, this had led to bouts of irregular sleep; even now, the veiled lady felt a degree of debility. Perhaps, once her business was concluded, she could find some brief reprieve.

The irony of her current location was certainly bittersweet. Lothal had once been home to a prominent Jedi temple but (despite the Order's valiant efforts) it fell during a siege, allowing the Mandalorians to claim the ultimate victory over their ancestral foes. Sybella was only a padawan at the time of the battle; as desperate as she was to prove herself, the masters on Yavin IV had decided against it.

She couldn't help but wonder if perhaps her presence would have made difference...

A pulse in the Force paused such musings.

The storm...It's getting closer.

The temple. It was heading towards the Jedi temple. Well, what was left of it... Whilst meditating, Sybella had seen flashes of it within her mind's eye. The grand structure had been reduced to little more than rubble; towers had toppled and the main chamber collapsed in on itself not long after. All that remained now lay buried. So, it begged the question - why come here at all?

Determined to find out, Sybella ensured her progress mirrored that of the presence she had sensed. They were still very much within the public sphere and the last thing she wanted was a fight right out in the open; at least in the ruins, little else could be lost.

Reaching the temple first, the knight perched herself at the base of a statue. It was marred beyond recognition, but the slight elevation was enough of an advantage. Sybella debated whether or not she should conceal herself and just observe, but the covert approach was hardly her style. Whoever this was, whatever their intention, she would face them head-on.

"You seem a little lost, friend. Perhaps I can help...?"

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

The flight out of the city had gone smoothly. The owner of the rental shop had tried to complain when Laeo had stumbled in and demanded a rental, but after shoveling a fistful of credit chips into the Weequay’s chest, she had stopped complaining and offered him what he needed. Lothal was a flat planet, and the flight over the empty grassland was hardly noteworthy– long as it was.

Laeo had been flying as quickly as the rental could travel when the engine began to sputter out and die. Pushing it to and beyond its limits, the old vehicle sputtered, broke down, and no matter how much screaming and cursing he let at it, the Brentaalan found it didn’t start working again.

So, he walked. For miles and miles, hours and hours. He didn’t stop to rest. He didn’t stop to drink, or to eat, or to relieve himself. The only thing keeping the planet’s predators off him was the radiating sense of chaotic foreboding that surrounded his force presence. Even the most basic life forms would intuitively know that crossing the half mad exile was a guaranteed death.

Nevertheless, he remained in a perpetual state of all consuming terror throughout the entire journey. When he reached out with the force, all he could feel was the awareness that others were aware of him. Eyes unseen followed his every move, and as he approached the temple, he didn’t know what to expect.

Perhaps the Sith were already there, waiting for him? Yes, they wouldn’t let him get what he needed; once he had that, he could protect himself. He could protect others. He was strong, and they couldn’t hope to stop him. They’d burned a planet trying to kill him, they’d sent beskar clad barbarians to kill him. They’d all failed. He was alive, and he would stay that way– as long as he got what he needed.

As he made his final approach, Laeo would ignore the terrible pain and exhaustion that wracked his body. The sores on his feet from where he’d been cut had long since burst, and his boots were full of oozing blood and pus. He could audibly hear the cybernetic replacements in his lower abdomen whirring, chugging along to keep up with his dogged determinism.

He saw her from about 30 yards away, and he slowed down, eyes narrowing as he reached out with the force. She… she had to have been aware of him. Yes, she had shadowed him. Followed him, and arrived before he had. Was she Sith? Perhaps; regardless, he didn’t trust her.

“Nooooo…” Laeonas rasped, voice barely a whisper, his mouth dry and throat hoarse. “No, no; Ai KNOW where Ai am. Ai KNOW where this is.” He declared, wildly gesturing at the ruins around them.

“I studied 'ere– a loooooong time ago…” He said. His time studying at the temple had been brief; barely a week had passed between his arrival and the Mandalorian attack. He’d been in the capital, and hadn’t seen the temple be destroyed, but he’d heard about it after recovering on Yavin.

He never imagined the extent of the damage. Part of him immediately lost heart; what were the odds the Mandalorians had left anything of value? If they knew what to look for, there’d be nothing left for him.

His thoughts drifted as he focused his gaze on the oddly robed woman, eyes narrowing. “What're YOU doin' 'ere?!” He asked, taking a few steps forward. “This– this belonged t'tha Jedi,” he declared, “Jedi bled 'ere, fought t'keep people safe– are YOU a Jedi?!” He asked accusingly. He didn’t know what he was angry with her about; nothing, in truth. When sleep deprived and wracked by pain, most people were brash and rude; that was Laeo’s default state however, so his attitude was much more aggressive.

@HoneyMagpie

 

[Sybella Demici]

Clearly, this man was deranged. His behaviour, so erratic, actually troubled the young knight. On any other occasion, Sybella would have simply dismissed him as any other lunatic. His signature in the Force, however, was incredibly strong; even now, it rippled in chaotic waves. It was actually rather concerning, seeing someone so unstable wielding so much power; if he lost complete control, innocent lives would be at risk. Is this why the Force had brought her here, to nullify this walking threat? She needed more time. More information.

"You were a Jedi?" His first admission surprised her. Was he telling the truth? Had he once studied here, at the temple?

Sybella sensed no deceit, which was strangely concerning. It meant that this man was truly one of her brethren, and yet to see him so broken...

She decided she had to help him. Whether or not he'd allow it though was an entirely different problem. Whilst some might appreciate a helping hand, others might bristle and Sybella could certainly relate. Had she not had her own fair share of trial and tribulations?

"Peace, my friend. I mean you no harm; I was brought here, by the Force. And I am, indeed, a Jedi." She hoped her words would settle the stranger, perhaps even provide him some comfort. "I'm going to come down so that we may speak face to face."

Hoping not to startle him, the knight slipped off the edge of the statue's base; she would land, rather softly, and finally be level with her new acquaintance. There was still some distance between them, however. The last thing the knight wanted was to make anyone feel crowded.

Truthfully, she didn't recognise him, but that was to be expected. The Order was rather extensive and some Jedi were more removed than others. It would seem then that a proper introduction was needed. "I am Knight Demici. But, if you like, you can call me Sybella. I was trained on Yavin IV, with Grand Councilor Fynn Tarrel as the temple's overseer. What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

She debated showing him her lightsabers, but then quickly thought better. Brandishing a weapon at someone was hardly the most reassuring of gestures. Instead, Sybella opted to remove her shroud and veil, so the stranger could at least get a better look at her. She also took the opportunity to assess him herself. The poor soul looked exhausted. When Sybella's visions first began, she had gone days without sleep and by the end of it all, she danced on the edge of delirium.

Did the Order know about his suffering? Were they even aware of his current condition? She needed him to open up to her before deciding on her next course of action.

Kneeling down, Sybella seated herself on the temple's floor. She then invited the stranger to do the same, if he liked; she posed no threat and she hoped he could at least understand that.

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

There was a throbbing pain in his skull that wouldn’t go away. It pulsed behind his eyes, practically blinding him in one. A migraine was nothing to him usually; to a sleep deprived, dehydrated, and utterly deranged him, it was a different story. Even looking at the woman while the sun set in the background was painful, the light hitting him causing a throbbing pain to wrack through his entire head. He reached up and clutched the side of his face, gritting his teeth as he tried to look over at her.

“YES!” He exclaimed, enthusiastically, a grin spreading across his lips, before he recognized the skepticism in her voice. “What? What, does th'at SURPRISE you?!” He asked bitingly. “Ai don’t need yer judgment! Ai... Ai don’t need ya JUDGING me! Let Alex and Eph judge what Ai did– Ai won’t take it from, from…” he began, trailing off as he narrowed his eyes at her.

Usually, he’d be able to catch a glimpse of another’s intentions through the force. He could read body language, listen to them speak. All of his senses were fried though, and so all he could do was stare in fear and paranoia and latent hostility.

“I just… I just need to get in the temple.” He said, taking a few more steps forward. “There’s… there’s danger, I’m in danger… everyone’s in danger. I need…” he trailed off again, before letting out a groan as a throbbing jolt of pain wracked through his mind.

When she started babbling about peace and of the Force, he turned his attention back to her, blinking a few times as he looked at her incredulously. When she declared that she was a Jedi, his eyes narrowed. Taking another few steps forward, he was only about 2-3 meters away. Slowly, he circled to her left, trying to see her at a different angle, away from the biting sunlight.

She was… wearing robes. Light, colorful, but robes nonetheless. She was speaking about peace, and the Force, and… well, he couldn’t remember anyone but Jedi talking like that.

Her calm declaration that she was coming down from the statue caused him to freeze up, and he jumped a little as she lept down, moving closer to him. He took a few steps back, though his steps were less urgent than before.

She introduced herself as Knight Demici, a name he didn’t recognize, but her confident and calm declaration provided little in the way of doubt. Her first name was easier to remember, and she would see him beginning to mouth it over and over. “Sy’bella, Sybel’a, Sybbbbella…” he’d mutter, enunciating until he got a close enough approximation of what she’d said. Whenever Laeo heard a new word, he had to process it so that it didn’t come out in his usually thick and sometimes incomprehensible accent; usually he’d do that in his head, but in his delirious state, doing it aloud was the best he could do.

He recognized Yavin IV, and the name Tarrel; he recalled a master by that name at the temple, and he recalled a holo report about the man dying at some battle years ago. “I… sorry.” He idly said his condolences. When he’d come to the temple, expressing concern or empathy for anyone else was a chore; now, it came to him out of habit, even if his caring was still limited.

She was asking for his name now. He was normally reluctant to identify himself… but he was tired, and from what little she’d provided, Sybell’a… no, Sybel… Syb seemed to be telling the truth.

“I… I’m Laeo.” He answered breathily. “Laeonas… Laeonas Tannaras.” He reiterated. “I don’t really have a last name, but it’s nice adding my dad’s. I don’t actually know if he’s my dad, but my mom says…” he trailed off, actually realizing that he was beginning to ramble.

“...I was a padawan. Eph– Ephiny Daivand’s padawan.” He explained. He didn’t expect her to recognize the name, but part of him hoped that she did. He watched as she began to move, and his eyes widened momentarily, until he realized she was moving to sit down. He stared at her intently for a moment, wondering if she’d make any other movements, but all she did was gesture for him to join her.

It took a long, drawn out silence until he took a step forward, moving to sit down. He crossed his legs, and he realized just how much they’d been aching. He let out an uncouth groan as his back and knees audibly cracked, sighing as he reclined where he sat.

He looked at her again after she’d removed her veil, blinking once as he regarded her. He was suddenly very, very aware of the fact that he felt and looked absolutely awful.

“I… I also trained on Yavin IV. I was… here when it was attacked the first time, and I was… I was already gone when they attacked again.” he explained, an unexpected hint of venom dripping into his voice at the mention of them. Syb knew who he was talking about, and she would know immediately that he had very, very un-jedi like attitudes about them.

@HoneyMagpie

 

[Sybella Demici]

The very mention of danger garnered much of Sybella's immediate attention. Had she not felt a similar sense of foreboding? For some time now, she had felt a great unease, as if a spectre of warning was ever present on the periphery of her conscious mind. Perhaps @Laeonas Tannaras had experienced something equally as ominous, and to such a point, it reduced him to this. A walking tempest, filled with trepidation. Wanting to know more, the knight wondered if the exile had witnessed visions like hers; visions of a dark figure, whose identity was currently unknown. Tempted to ask him outright, Sybella then promptly decided to wait. She didn't know Laeo well enough yet, she did however recognise when a person was wound too tight; too much pushing could cause him to snap.

A gentle touch was needed. So, the Jedi listened, without much urging and without a shred of judgement.

When Laeonas tried to master the pronunciation of her name, she would nod as if to encourage him; when he began to ramble, she would be patient and lend an ear until he once more righted his trail of thought. Both of them knew of other Jedi who had been lost to conflict; it was to be expected, seeing as it was the sad reality that came with the duty.

"Master Daivand? Who wielded a green double-bladed saber?"

Sybella hadn't known them personally, but the name was definitely familiar. Had she read it somewhere? An archive entry, perhaps? Maybe even a mission report. The knight was a shameless reader; she would devour anything and everything she could get her hands on.

It was evident to her though that Laeonas was experiencing great discomfort, much of which seemed rather self-inflicted. When was the last time he took a chance to rest? Though Sybella wanted to help him, she had a feeling he might not wholly cooperate if outright instructed. Instead, the lady Jedi opted for a more artful approach. Searching the pouches of her utility belt, she retrieved two stim packs. The small medical device was stacked with small vials of glowing blue liquids containing both stimulants and healing fluids. Whilst ineffective against catastrophic injuries, it could certainly (for a limited time) help chase away fatigue and its cumbersome effects.

Taking one for herself, and then passing the other to Laeonas, Sybella ingested the stim without much hesitation. The taste itself wasn't great, but it did the job to relieve her tiredness. Of course, she wouldn't pressure her companion to take his. If he didn't want to do something, she wouldn't force him but she hoped her own demonstration of its use would convince him otherwise.

"What were you hoping to find here, Laeonas? I'd like to help if you'll let me."

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Green, double bladed-

“YES!” He exclaimed, expression lighting up at the Jedi’s recognition. “You… you know her? You’ve met?” He asked, scooching a little closer. His bloodshot eyes were wide, but not out of fear or mistrust, but excitement. “Gods, it was probably in a library, wasn’t it? Whenever she wasn’t training me, she was reading some pointless old book or datapad about some Jedi master who’d been worm food for a million years or something!”

His transformation from caution to outright mania would’ve caught anyone off guard. He’d always been a little… erratic when it came to his emotions. His exhausted and half mad state had already exacerbated his aggression, but his extreme behavior went both ways.

And just as the pendulum swung one way…

“...was she alright?” He asked abruptly, his grin slipping away. “I… she was in the council chamber with me, when I… when Master Alex and the others…” he trailed off, the positive energy draining from his expression. It didn’t give way to anger or paranoia this time; his features relaxed, his lips pursed together, and the light in his eyes dimmed.

There was nothing there.

His expression remained that way until Syb’what’shername offered him a mysterious vial of blue liquid.

The only other context where he would’ve ever accepted her offer would’ve been if he were high off spice in a brothel; as delirious as he was and as ready Syb’whoknows downed her own shot, Laeo would reluctantly take it and slowly sip on it.

He puckered his lips at the bitterness, but he didn’t show any other outward reaction. “...wha…what is this?” He asked plainly, handing the vial back to her. Rubbing his eyes, he would blink a few times, realizing they didn’t feel as dry as they had before. “...hmm.” he murmured.

When she spoke up again, Laeo listened as best he could. He reclined back where he sat, discovering his aches seemed to be fading.

“I…” he began, before glancing down at the satchel he was carrying. Syb… Sybella was a Jedi, but he’d done enough reading on what it meant to be exiled from the order. People like him weren’t supposed to be doing what he was doing now; a thought that only just occurred to him. The haze of exhaustion wasn’t obscuring his judgment as intensely as before.

What would she do if he admitted his plans? She’d been friendly and accommodating so far, sure, but that didn’t mean she’d help him build a weapon; a weapon that was ideally restricted to members of her order.

Still… it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. He could lie to her, but she’d probably pick up on that. He could leave… and fly to one, maybe two of the other worlds he knew of in the galaxy that had what he needed. He could tell her the truth, and she could refuse; she could either refuse to help him, try to stop him. What would he do then? Submit to her authority? Be carted back before the council? Hear her report about how he’d arrived on this world a delirious mess, how he’d practically threatened her and acted like an unhinged lunatic– an unhinged lunatic who was trying to build a weapon.

Years of progress on his part, and all the council would see was a failed Jedi who’d gone mad and tried to replace something he’d lost.

They wouldn’t exile him to go on a path of self improvement if they found out. They’d throw him in a padded cell.

“...why would you want to help me?” He asked suddenly. There was an obvious tinge of fear in his voice, though it came from a much more rational place this time. “I… you’re a Jedi, I know it’s our– your job to help those in need; but for all you know I could be trying to build a suicide vest to wear while I try and get the Dark Lord’s autograph.” Laeonas elaborated. It wasn’t the best metaphor, but it wasn’t that far off from what his half crazed mind had wanted to do.

“I mean… you know I’m… I’m not well.” He admitted, barely enough for her to hear. She would hear the first meaning, only he would know the second.

“Do you think I’m dangerous? To myself? To other people– innocent people?” He whispered the question, staring intently to gauge her reaction. He didn’t know how she would answer, but he knew how he would.

And he knew that if he were in her position, he wouldn’t leave here a free man.

@HoneyMagpie

 

[Sybella Demici]

In spite of @Laeonas Tannaras' erractic mood, Sybella couldn't help but offer a genuine smile; from his tone alone, she could tell Master Daivand was much admired. Jedi like that were pillars within their Order; unfortunately, it made losing them all the more difficult. The knight probably didn't need to say anything, her sobering expression plain enough for Laeon to read. Daivand, like Tarrel, had perished in the line of duty.

Rather than remind her companion of this tragic fact, Sybella instead answered his question about the liquid pods. "Oh. They're stim packs; they're great for when you need a bit of a boost."

Quickly it became apparent that Laeonas was once more lost amongst his thoughts. The Jedi, however, would not rush him. If he needed time to process his thoughts, then she would give him exactly that. There was nothing worse than feeling an innate sense of pressure; reflection was a meaningful process, so of course Laeonas had to be deliberate in his pace. In addition to this, the more he spoke, the clearer his predictament became. Whether intentionally or not, the voyager was revealing his exiled status; the final clue came when he began speaking of the Order in a seperated manner.

Sybella, however, did not jump to hasty conclusions. Many Jedi had gone into exile, and not always for nefarious reasons; did she wish to know more about Laeonas' circumstances? Yes, but all would be made clear, in time. For now, she sensed no immediate danger. If he wanted to hurt her, he would have done so already.

When he asked about her reasons for helping him, the knight provided a rather simple response. Sitting back, with her eyes looking up in a pondering fashion "I think...that if our roles were reversed, I would like someone to help me."

Asking for help and needing help, were two very different things. Those gifted with humility knew when to reach out for aid, whereas others desperately requiring support often shied away from those willing to offer it. Sybella had learnt this the hard way, during her own trials; she believed, in asking for help, she was showing herself as somehow being unworthy. She would rather struggle in silence than be seen as weak. In the end, more damage than good was done; even now, she is still suffering from the foolish choices made.

Absently, her eyes glanced about, as if expecting someone to suddenly appear within her line of sight. Thankfully though, it was not the case.

Focusing her attention on more on Laeonas, Sybella considered his final series of questions. She would be honest, as that is what she would like him to be with her. "I think we both have the potential to be dangerous. It is, however, our actions which define us. A tad philosophical, I know, but I believe there is some merit to it. "

Now, if was Sybella's turn to ask the questions. She started with the following, "What do you want to do, Laeonas? Better yet, what do you think is the right thing to do?" Following that, she wanted him to consider the next series of queries, "What do you hope to find here? What do you hope to achieve after finding said thing? What will be your next course of action?"

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

“...I guess I’d want the same.” Laeo answered after a long, drawn out silence. Minutes of contemplation regarding what the Jedi had said left his expression hollow, free of either mania or melancholy. He followed her eyes as they glanced around, curious, a nip of paranoia crawling up the back of his neck; after a few deep breathes he managed to calm.

“No, no, you’re right.” He interjected as Syb began to speak up about the difference between what they wanted to do and what they actually did. As deplorable as some of the things he’d done were, they paled in comparison to the totality of things he thought about doing. “When I was… younger, I… hurt people. On a whim. Didn’t even matter to me, I just did.” He confessed, looking down with a shameful expression. “I’ve hurt a lot of people. You’re a Jedi; sometimes to protect the innocent, you have to hurt others. We are dangerous.” He finished.

And, finally, the golden question arrived; what do you want?

He could’ve tried to add further justification. He could’ve added context.

Instead, he gave her the simple truth.

“I want to be safe.” He said. Such a simple request.

It was such a simple declaration, a simple desire. How many people had lived their entire lives without ever fearing for their safety? How many had never even had to consider whether they would have food on their plate the next day? To those people, his request might seem laughable.

But to any who’d lived through half of what he had, they’d wish for the same thing.

“And for that, I need kyber.” He said, and that was when he opened his bag– revealing an assortment of various different parts that the Knight would recognize almost immediately. A focusing lens carved from adegan. An emitter matrix, fashioned of a cortosis and durasteel alloy. A simple power cell, and some highly ornamental platinum and electrum casing pieces.

All the parts needed for a lightsaber– except for its heart.

“I can’t be safe if I can’t defend myself. These swords, these blasters– I’m armed like a common bounty hunter. The kind any trained enforcer could gun down in a flash.” He declared, voice trembling.

“I came here for Kyber. That's all I need. I’ve built one of these before, I can do it again– and then, I’ll be safe.” He explained, a sigh of relief starting– and then catching in his throat.

Because it wasn’t true.

No, he wouldn’t be safe. Not as long as…

“What I want, and what’s right.” He muttered. “You know the first, I suppose you should hear the second.” He said, pursing his lips.

“How… how do they punish murderers where you come from, Syb’ella?” He asked. There was a hint of genuine curiosity– but he clearly had a point to make.

“On Brentaal, it depends. If someone like me gets caught shooting a man, they’ll never leave the inside of a cell. If some purple-born, well off prick decides they’d just love to see what happens when their speeder turns someone to paste? Maybe they’ll get censured and confined to house arrest. Yknow, house arrest. In a palace.” He spat in a tone that was half mockery and disgust.

“That’s only when you get put through the pig’s court though. The uh… gangs that do most of the governing where I’m from? Doesn’t matter who you are; the punishment’s the same.” He said, a grimace slowly forming on his face. It was a rare, rare thing to see; even with how corrupt and incompetent his world’s law enforcement was, they weren’t the type to leave someone nailed in a public place for hours or days on end.

That didn’t mean he’d been spared the sight of it though.

“The right thing?” He repeated again, a scowl spreading over his brow. “I think you know what the right thing is. I think the Jedi have always known.” He mused.

“When I felt the Sith destroy Firrerre years ago, my mind broke. It took Grandmaster Voran Gods know how long to put me back together– and still, I wake up every night, screaming.” He spat, visibly trembling as he explained. “These… people… they kill millions like it’s nothing. They ruin worlds like it’s nothing. They shatter minds and break lives like it’s nothing.” He seethed, the hate he felt dwarfing anything she’d sensed before.

And yet, it felt righteous. His hate was pure. It was just.

“The first time I nailed a man to a cross was an hour or two after he’d tried to…” he choked on the next words, pursing his lips and swallowing them down. “We knew the pigs wouldn’t give him justice, so we did what we’ve done to people like him– and when it was done, we knew he couldn’t hurt anyone again.”

“We did vile shit. We robbed. We extorted. We tortured. We killed. But I could’ve done all that for a thousand, thousand years, and it wouldn’t compare to the suffering I felt that day. It wouldn’t compare to the billions they slaughtered in minutes. It wouldn’t compare to Alderaan. To Hosnian Prime. To the Clone Wars, all the way back to Andraste’s conquests. There’s nothing I could do to these people that could match the evil they’ve done to the galaxy.”

“...so, I won’t.” He said, and the anger in his expression seemed to slowly seep away.

“I can’t right every wrong the galaxy’s gone through. I wish I could. I wish I could in a way that leaves the people who did it screaming.” He whispered, before clicking his tongue. “I can defend myself though. I can defend the people I care about, and I can fight these people wherever I find them.” He explained.

“The way we did things back home– the brutality of it all. It… it felt right, but I know it wasn’t. It couldn’t be right. Not with what I’ve learned or seen. Good comes naturally to some people; I can’t do what comes natural to me.” He finished, taking a deep sigh.

“So… do you feel like helping me, or arresting me?”

@HoneyMagpie

 

[Sybella Demici]

‘We are dangerous’. ​

Sybella didn’t want to agree but the statement was quite accurate. Jedi, trained in the Force, were capable of many things. More often than not, they worked for the sake of the Light. Yet eons ago, from the Order itself, spawned the Sith and their darkness. Of course, there was the grey in between - the same sentiments Laeonas was expressing. Doing the wrong things, for presumably the right reasons. In that, Sybella felt a sense of empathy. It was hard, always taking the moral high ground. Enemies against the Jedi did horrendous things, and yet those amongst their ranks were meant to work for the sake of peace and tranquility. Supposedly, at least. There had been blips in history in which the Order acted against its official doctrine. Even Sybella’s herself had sometimes acted in a manner that did not befit her rank. Several of her comrades had even called her out for it - still, at the time, she had felt it necessary to act in such a manner. There was a rationale in her actions.

Leaonas’ logic, however, made the shrouded knight arch a brow. “You want to be safe. You feel you need a lightsaber in order to do that. Yet you have just admitted that we are dangerous as we are, even without weapons. I understand your sentiments but please understand my…hesitation.”

Lightsabers were a controversial topic, even amongst the Order. Some viewed them as weapons, whereas others viewed them as a tool for enforcing the light. A few select Jedi saw them as a symbol and nothing more, opting to completely forgo them if at all possible. Personally, Sybella saw her sabers as an extension of herself. She had found the kyber crystals in her youth, as many other younglings did; from hand, she crafted the hilts. Hours upon hours had been spent training with them, till she was formidably proficient.

Indeed, Jedi were dangerous. Especially when armed. Few things could stand in the way of a saber - and Leaonas wanted to possess one. A dangerous prospect, indeed.

Especially as the conversation devolved even further.

”On my planet? The punishments are to fit the crime, I suppose…” but again, Laeonas was right. On Serenno, if you were a noble, you would understandably be treated differently than those belonging to the lower castes. It had happened, time and time again, even amongst Sybella’s own ancestors. Yes, there was banishment, even disownment, but more often than not those related in blood would close ranks and deal with matters privately, away from the eyes of justice.

The confessions that followed, however, only reaffirming Sybella’s reluctant decision. “Whilst I appreciate your honesty, I am sorry to say that you are a frightening man, Laeonas. I…can not help you. Not in the way that you want, and not in the way I think is best.”

Moving to her feet, Sybella then sighed. “However, I don’t want to fight you. Would you resist, if I tried to detain you? You want to be safe - maybe, we need to find you a haven, instead.”

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Well… this really shouldn’t have been that surprising.

Laeonas wasn’t really used to… opening up. It wasn’t entirely his fault; he’d spent his formative years on a planet where the only way to earn someone’s trust was to share blood or owe them credits. His mother’s solution to most of his issues was to smack him, or give him an extra helping of nutrient paste. Spending most of your life in the company of criminals didn’t help foster healthy coping mechanisms either.

Her hesitation was justified. Of course it was. Minutes before he’d been behaving like a deranged lunatic; it would be irresponsible to help arm him until he, at the very least, started acting sane.

And then he went on a minutes long rant that sounded like it should’ve been coming out of the mouth of a xenophobic vagrant below an underpass, rather than one of the Jedi’s former colleagues. The fact that she’d given him stims to help him become coherent before he’d even said anything only made things worse. Everything he’d said wasn’t the result of some force apparition induced mania; this was just who he was. What he was.

What other decision could she have come to? It was the only one that even made a little sense. A deranged Jedi exile on the hunt for a kyber crystal was probably only a few places down the “DANGEROUS SITUATIONS” list in some hypothetical Jedi handbook he’d have never read; sitting right between “Encountered Sith acolyte” and “Fell into a rancor pit.”

The entire time, Syb would be able to watch the gears turning in the Brentaalan’s head, watching as he started to realize what situation he’d gotten himself into. She was probably preparing for a possible attack; he was, after all, a frightening man.

A younger, more volatile Laeonas would’ve worn that title like a badge of honor. Now, it made him want to vomit.

“I… Gods, wait a minute.” he said, raising up a hand as he wracked his hair, sweat beading down his forehead. Maybe she was right? He was dangerous. He wasn’t in his right mind– not yet, anyway, though the longer their conversation went on, the more his thoughts gained coherence. Still, he’d suggested that she lock him up–

“You can’t go.” He thought. It came to him quickly, naturally– a statement of fact. No matter how much of a risk he was, no matter what danger he posed to anyone else– at his core, Laeonas Tannaras could never, ever voluntarily surrender himself to a higher authority if there was a chance he could avoid it.

“I… just listen to me, alright? I get why you’re... concerned, okay? I know, I know, 'ranting and raving exile trying to get his hands on a saber'– it’s a bad look, okay?” He began, shifting where he sat.

“I… I know I’m a little unhinged.” He began, stopping, glancing down, and looking back up at her. “Right now. I’m a little unhinged right now.” He clarified, raising his hands up slightly. “But, believe it or not, I’ve been in worse spots. The Jedi– they’ve helped me out of there before, just like you’ve done.” He said, smiling meekly.

“I… just need to relax for a few weeks. Take a trip to Corellia, or Zeltros, y’know? Nothing a little bit of liquor and a few pretty boys can’t fix.” He suggested, his meek smile widening into a grin, as if the stuck up looking Jedi could relate. Than again, imagining her dressed in her robes throwing back shots and dancing like a maniac made his grin more genuine.

Gradually, he lowered his hands to his side, hoping he had actually convinced her. "You don't need to cart me off to some padded cell or leave me on house arrest in some temple to calmly reflect on the nature of the force; I do that every day, when I'm not... out of it."

“Listen, Syb… the last thing I want is to hurt anyone.” He declared, the words rolling off his tongue slowly.

It was a half truth; not because he wasn’t being honest, but because he’d cut himself short. “The last thing I want is to hurt anyone… who doesn’t deserve it.”

@HoneyMagpie