Open The Survivors of Denon

[Vahn Berand]

Vahn grinned as Sevrin complimented the cooking.

“I’ll let Aola know. She’s always been eager to hear back from us. She’s fiercely protective in her own way,” Vahn said, retrieving his tea cup just to drain it while he listened to Sevrin’s analysis. He couldn’t find anything too objectionable. In his ideal galaxy, padawans would be kept from any danger until there was no question they were ready. Everyone would. Did the Order have the luxury to keep Padawans completely from danger? He beat the thought down. Sevrin was right about one thing; the young ones needed to hone their skills for whatever may come next.

“Speaking of preparedness…” Vahn said, and he slowly moved over to the opposite side of the window where Rishe sat. He spent a second in silence, working at a buckle on his forearm. After a few moments, he rolled a leather wrap off from under his silver-white robes. He hefted the leather, which served as a series of sheathes for a number of heavy durasteel darts that gleamed in the light.

“Master Vetan gave me my first set when I wasn’t too much younger than you are now. She always said it was important for us to have as many options when we operate as we can,” he explained, before looking Rishe in the eye. “It’s when we’re forced into unfortunate situations that we don’t have an answer for, and we lose our options, that we’re most likely to suffer. A good dart can help you keep distance, gain distance, distract, even grapple with the right size and weight. More options increases survivability. Always have a trick up your sleeve. Literally, in this case.”

“We’re all going to have to face off against a Sith at some time. Either together, or alone. It...wouldn’t be good if you were forced into close combat with a Sith that you weren’t prepared for,” his words were guarded, chosen carefully. The unspoken admission that a good chunk of what he means was actually that it “wouldn’t be good for him” hung in the negative spaces between his words.

“I would be…,” Vahn sighed, rubbing a hand at the side of his neck as he picked his words. “A lot more comfortable if you would practice with these. I can give you a few pointers if you’d like,” Vahn said while handing the spread of darts over in one hand.

“I’ll never be a teacher as good as she was, but she taught us to be pretty good with these. I can pass on a few lessons.”

@Stick @Fantasy Liver @Sreeya

 

[Sevrin Valtiere]

Sevrin said nothing in response to the padawan’s reply. The first steps towards learning involved accepting when mistakes had been made. He considered the words until Vahn spoke again before retrieving weapons to gift to Rishe. Sevrin watched the exchange in silence, deciding that his contributions here were done. The padawan was clearly in good hands, and there was a tremendous amount of work to do.

The Sephi rose from where he sat, turning to them all briefly, “Get some rest and take time to meditate on what happened. Allow yourselves that specific time to work through your thoughts. It will help you reflect and work past them so your mind is clear when you are back on the field,” Sevrin offered a faint smile, giving Vahn and Drow a different kind of nod with a telepathic message to them both, “I will be contacting you about a plan I have in the works.”

With that, he strode from the room, leaving the others to reflect and heal.

/Exit Thread

@Stick @The Steel Stag @Fantasy Liver

 

[Rishe Vakren]

The gift was unexpected, and Rishe found herself unable to respond with a usual measure of calm. This was different than playing the part of a good Jedi, and perhaps it was Vahn's own lack of professional decorum, or there was something more personal about the gift.

Yet, she also found she harbored a secret from the Knights. She had fought a Sith. Two, in fact. If Sevrin was correct - and judging from her arm - neither were acolytes, and both would have been skilled enough to kill her. Her death had been an abstract concept, even when considering that the Knights earlier would risk themselves for her. He was right. Rishe had few options fighting either Sith, and it had caught up with her.

"Uh - every day. I'll practice daily." She said, standing up quickly, the leather wrap held tightly in hand. "Though, decent is a blatant understatement after what I saw on that station. And Denon. I'd gladly accept your lessons. Immediately. If possible."

It had been too long since she'd actually had direct lessons. Most of her recent experience had been similar to learning on the job. And Vahn could probably teach her more than even he thought was possible, since she still remembered mimicking him in more than a few ways. "And - thank you for your wisdom, Masters." She added, as if protocol was suddenly a thing she remembered to be important, bowing as Valtiere left and addressing it more between him and Venn.

@The Steel Stag @Fantasy Liver

 

[Vahn Berand]

Vahn kept his glance askance, and he stirred uncomfortably at Rishe’s proclamation of dedication. His chest tightened. Was he ready for this? Could he even instruct effectively?

“It will take a lot of work, dedication, and thought, for sure,” Vahn said, and he rested a hand on the leather wrap in her hand to guide it low. “And I know you have it in you, and I give you my word I will help you walk this path that we tread. But for now, rest, eat. We have time enough for you to recover fully before we do anything,” he continued, before he slowly pulled away and turned to exit the room. Ralta disengaged from the charging port and rolled on behind him.

Then Vahn paused, breaking his stride before he left the bunk. He rested one gloved hand on the threshold of the room, turning fractionally so he could look back at the young Padawan.

“Rishe. You’re already an amazing Jedi. You survived where others couldn’t, and didn’t. You’re smart, cunning, and wise in ways I could never be. You think of things that would just never occur to me. I can’t wait to see the sort of Jedi you’re going to become,” he said, his gloved hand balling tight. “I’m glad I was able to get you off of that battlefield. That’s the one thing from that day that I would never change, and that I will always be proud of,” there was a moment of silence, and then he left the room with the little BG unit following in the wake of his receding footsteps.

He wandered for some time, and eventually found himself outside of the temple, wreathed in the shrouding flora of Yavin’s jungle. His thoughts were a riot, a storm of self doubt, grief, and regret. He’d done it. The Sith had attacked again, but unlike at Ajan Kloss he had been there. He had been present to fight back. But the horrible things still happened anyway. He slumped against a nearby tree trunk, and slid down onto the leafy jungle floor.

“I wish you were still here, Master,” Vahn said. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

If she were still around, she’d know exactly what to do. Vahn was sure of it. His hands curled into tight fists, dangling over his knees as he sat with his back against the tree.

“I miss you so much.”

/Exit Thread

@Stick

 

[Rishe Vakren]

Rishe watched Vahn and his droid leave, her features unreadable, and a tightness gripping her chest. She was no stranger to any of those things, but the last thing she wanted to do was rest further after such a conversation. The Sith would never allow her to do so either, but still, she was denied that comfort of study.

The praise didn't land for Rishe, not when she was left nearly alone in the bunk with rapidly cooling food and tea. She hadn't done anything on Denon but risk Vahn himself. My survival is a fluke. I'm not better than the Masters who died - if anything, my survival came at the cost of their lives.

The doubt plagued Rishe's mind again. She had not yet earned praise, but Vahn gave it so freely. He was a different Knight compared to Rishe's old master. Yet, she'd trained Rishe despite the padawan's disappointing strength, despite countless failures. Her teaching had been unyielding, but ever present. As long as Rishe had been willing to continue, she had been there. That meant more than kind words.

I do not know what at what step I'll succeed. But it will always be the next one.

Her old Master would not have visited the padawan, would not have delivered praise or comfort. She would have been waiting. Each step Rishe took led deeper into the temple, the bundle and her saber resting atop her numb arm in the sling. When she arrived, low-hanging lights illuminated a broad, empty room, one of many training grounds within the temple. The droids within activated, proficient in educating a pupil in a basic lightsaber form.

Yet no master awaited her. That was fine. The leather roll clattered as she shook it free, the multitude of darts within slipping from their binding... and one by one, they were gripped by her hold of the Force, every bit as domineering as her stranglehold over her own thoughts.

If she was not ready, she endangered others around her. She would endanger Master Berand. So she would do what it took to get ready, to grow near to perfection. Rishe inhaled, the half dozen spikes forming a sharp halo around her. When she breathed out, a dart whistled through the air.

/exit thread