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Like Riding a Swoop
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Friday, 15 Jun 2012, 3:49 PM | Message # 1 |
 Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Side-thread to A Drop in the Bucket, a few hours later. ))
Even now, nearly two decades after his dying master bequeathed the weapon unto him, the hilt of the lightsaber still felt foreign in Karth's hands. Not foreign in such a way that made it unwieldy, far from it. Rather, every time he felt the cold metal he couldn't help but feel a twinge of... regret, of guilt. That seemed to be par for the course for him these days, though the remorse he felt over Dani's 'death' had certainly lessened once she'd come back into his life. Instead, that remorse was replaced by worry, frustration; she was a far different person than he remembered and that was unnerving enough. As he ran his calloused hands over the gleaming hilt, a faint smile crossed his features, if only for a moment. This weapon had been the most loyal friend he'd known in ten long years, and she deserved to stretch her legs.
With a familiar snap-hiss, the azure blade illuminated the small, rudimentary training area he'd constructed in the cargo hold. Rudimentary could only begin to describe it, really, as the area itself was a hectic amalgam of crates, trash and scrap metal. Still, it served its purpose well enough. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, spinning the blade absentmindedly in the thin air for a moment. Saber kata was much akin to riding a swoop bike properly. You could be rusty, sure, but you never truly forgot. He set his feet, brought the weapon up to rest parallel to the grated floor, falling comfortably into his defensive-minded stance as though it was just yesterday, a time back when war was life for him. Admonishing himself for a misstep, Karth swung the blade in wide, graceful arcs, his eyes narrowed and cast against the blue light that filled the room.
At current, the Caecelia rocketed through the brilliant vortex of hyperspace; and despite the sheer force being exerted, things were quiet. It was what could possibly be considered the closest one could get to 'night-time' in space; the ship was powered down save for necessary systems, Karth was alone and dressed in naught but training pants. Another grunt as he stumbled over a complicated feint.
"Dammit..." he breathed, repeating the maneuver several times before finally moving on.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Jace_Varitek | Date: Friday, 15 Jun 2012, 8:22 PM | Message # 2 |
 Generalissimo
Group: Administrators
Messages: 2245
Status: Offline
| "You remember what Master Drallig used to say," came Jace's voice from the doorway, his presence there not quite a surprise to Karth as the smell of burned coffee had preceded Jace into the room. That, and there was no 'sneaking up' on a Jedi, was there? Jace took a sip from the metal cup he'd commandeered from the ship's kitchen and lowered it, nodding in reference to Karth's exercises. "'Just like riding a wheel bike.'" He smiled and shook his head, "Ever rode a wheel bike? It's damn near impossible."
Jace sat himself down on one of the crates in the dimly-lit cargo area that sufficed as Karth's 'training room.' He wasn't as casually-dressed as Karth was; he'd removed his boots but was otherwise attired the same as he'd been before. He looked cold, and was. "I miss Drallig," he mused, "Bene, too—you have to respect a girl who can kick your ass. Hell, I even miss Yoda sometimes. The little git." He shrugged and took another sip, the coffee tasting ever-so-slightly more bitter to him now.
He'd found the coffee—black, instant stuff—in the kitchen and considered asking Daneira before he made himself a cup, but didn't; he wasn't sure whether she'd be more upset at him stealing something of hers or waking her up in the middle of the night. Either could result in grievous bodily harm.
Not that it was 'night' on this ship, to Jace. It was late afternoon back on Jace's wretched little corner of Kal'Shebbol.
Jace Varitek
Manager/Administrator from January 2003 to Present
My recent posts here, pre-2009 archives here
"When my information changes, I change my opinion. What do you do, sir?"
—John Maynard Keynes
Furthermore, a dancing Wookiee:
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Friday, 15 Jun 2012, 8:34 PM | Message # 3 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Karth would have been the first to admit that his situation awareness was lacking; he hadn't caught scent of Varitek's foul-smelling coffee, and he had jumped, at least inwardly, when the former Jedi spoke. To his credit, even at this late hour, Karth maintained his veneer of calm; as Jace came to sit beside him, De'Qora's eyes never left the blade. "Rode 'em?" Karth mused. "Hells, I built a few of them, they never rode straight." Smirking, he finished yet another set of rehearsed strikes before he turned to regard the newcomer with an appreciative stare. It was nice to have someone to talk to when he couldn't sleep, and he figured that Varitek felt the same way.
"Funny," he wondered aloud, his ebon eyes drinking in the light of his saber before he sheathed it, returning the hilt to his belt. "You of all people I wouldn't have pegged as yearning for the 'good old days'. Not that I blame you-" he said that last bit with a wink, snatching up the glass of water he'd set aside and taking a hearty gulp. "At this point I'd take Yoda's lectures, Drallig's ass-kickings... hell, I'd even take Kenobi's sanctimonious diatribes over constant persecution." Yawning, he settled onto a crate next to Varitek's own, taking another swig and staring absently at the wall. "Never thought I'd miss them, but I do."
His vocabulary was surprisingly eloquent for the hyperspace equivalent of 'late night', a byproduct of his heritage that had never gone away fully. Needless to say, it made blending in on... less-civilized worlds something of a challenge.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Jace_Varitek | Date: Friday, 15 Jun 2012, 9:18 PM | Message # 4 |
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Generalissimo
Group: Administrators
Messages: 2245
Status: Offline
| Jace shrugged. He missed the people and the peace of mind of those days, but not much else. Part of this was hindsight, of course—his "peace of mind" had been tenuous at best, and there were a lot of people he didn't miss; Jorus C'baoth, say. Even Yoda, for all his clever turns of phrases, had been insensitive to the emotional needs of his students and intolerant of any opinions that weren't his own. More than once, Jace had thought of Yoda as a "villain." Now, in hindsight, the Jedi Master seemed even smaller a person than he had in those days.
Karth knew these things about Jace, so there was no need to say them. They sat in silence for a long moment before Jace spoke up again. "Have you ever thought, because of the history, you know, and because I suppose we're 'survivors,' that we have a responsibility to keep the memory alive?" He regretted his choice of words immediately—the cliché seemed to cheapen what he was trying to say. "I guess I mean, on the one hand I don't owe a thing to the Jedi, but on the other, I feel like I owe everything to them."
He knew this wasn't logical; the Jedi were all he'd known from birth. It was how he was raised, and naturally it'd be a part of him forever. But that didn't mean he'd chosen that life for himself or would have if he'd had the choice. It made no more sense to thank the Jedi than it did to thank his parents for the color of his eyes. Still, he'd grappled over the years with his sense of guilt for feeling "free" when the Jedi Order fell and, with it, everyone he'd ever known. These feelings didn't mix as well as the coffee had.
Jace Varitek
Manager/Administrator from January 2003 to Present
My recent posts here, pre-2009 archives here
"When my information changes, I change my opinion. What do you do, sir?"
—John Maynard Keynes
Furthermore, a dancing Wookiee:
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Friday, 15 Jun 2012, 9:29 PM | Message # 5 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| "You know something, Jace," Karth breathed, his gaze sinking to the floor that was encased in darkness between his knees. "I think about it every damn day of my life." He chuckled, which might have seemed either insensitive or downright ludicrous, given the nature of the conversation. He didn't mean it that way, however, as it was more a way of registering just how incredulous things suddenly seemed to him.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Daneira_Farris | Date: Tuesday, 19 Jun 2012, 2:59 PM | Message # 6 |
 Lieutenant
Group: Users
Messages: 73
Status: Offline
| Daneira had set a course in navigation for Commenor, and made sure that the ship jumped to hyperspace seamlessly. Caecelia was a good, sturdy ship, despite what at least one if not more of her passengers thought. It was still so odd that there were other people with her, other Jedi, no less. Karth. With a sigh, she checked all of the instrument panels again before she got up and departed the cockpit.
Using a skill she hadn't in years (but had just opened herself up to again once Jace showed up), she could sense that both of them were in the cargo hold. That was somewhere she definitely did not want to be then. It was bad enough that Karth was angry with her over her spat with Jace, and she had no intention of making it worse. Instead, she just went to bed for another night of restless sleep.
A few hours later...
Dani sat bolt upright in bed, her skin shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. She frowned deeply. Her nightmares were so vivid, like the events of them had just happened that day. She struggled to catch her breath and fight back tears at the same time. He was alive, and he was here on the ship, she had to keep reminding herself.
After a few moments, Daneira slid out of bed and went into the hallway. They were still in the cargo bay, from what she could tell, and that was just fine. Gently, she pushed the door of Karth's room open and went inside. He had been there for only a day or so and it was already a mess, and it smelled like him, smelled the way she remembered him.
She felt that she needed to apologize to him, but not in front of Jace. She couldn't handle another confrontation with Jace in a 24 hour period. Instead of interrupting, she just sat on the end of his bed and waited.
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| Jace_Varitek | Date: Tuesday, 26 Jun 2012, 10:03 PM | Message # 7 |
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Generalissimo
Group: Administrators
Messages: 2245
Status: Offline
| "Oh, I don't know," Jace said, looking away into the dimness of the cargo bay. Lost in thought, he didn't notice Daneira's presence. "We won't ever be 'powerless,'" he went on, "but it's nice to be looking out for number one, you know? We're not responsible for the whole galaxy anymore; bunch of kids, responsible for the whole galaxy." He shook his head. "Now the we're just responsible for ourselves, and—" he smiled "—the whole galaxy is out to get us. Who says the Force doesn't have a sense of humor?"
Jace hadn't seen the symbol of the Jedi in a long time, and understood now that he hadn't wanted to, either. The Empire reminded him daily that he couldn't hide from his past (not for long—not from Imperial stormtroopers) but his future was his own. Notionally, at least; the Empire had something to say about that, too. But the decisions that Jace made were his alone now, and even the decisions he'd made that had proved disastrous for him, he stood by.
Jace was a believer in free will. The Jedi, in contrast, had believed in the "living Force," and "destiny," and all that. Even on his darkest nights these last years, Jace had never accepted that nothing you do makes a difference; to believe that, he felt, was to be truly powerless. No, the symbol of the Jedi wasn't a welcome sight to him, though he respected Karth's reasons for the tattoo—the symbol meant different things to different people.
But he had a more immediate concern. "Karth," he said, after a moment's pause. "Can I talk to you about Daneira? I mean, has she told you what she's been doing these last ten years, in any detail?"
Jace Varitek
Manager/Administrator from January 2003 to Present
My recent posts here, pre-2009 archives here
"When my information changes, I change my opinion. What do you do, sir?"
—John Maynard Keynes
Furthermore, a dancing Wookiee:
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Tuesday, 26 Jun 2012, 10:18 PM | Message # 8 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| He hadn't viewed it in such a light, truth be told; and though Karth felt more responsible for the galaxy than ever (being one of the last Jedi seemed to imply, at least to him, an ever loftier set of standards) he could see the sense of liberation present in Varitek's worldview, and he respected the hell out of it. Grinning in response to the dry humor laden in Jace's retort, Karth laid back against the crate and ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. When Dani's name was brought up, however, the smile was soon replaced by a hard-set jaw and weary gaze. He'd hoped in vain that the subject would be danced around, assuming Jace would pick up on just how sensitive an issue that was with the elder Jedi.
Would it come up again? There wasn't a doubt in his mind that it would, but hell, Karth himself wasn't even sure where he stood with her, much less if there would ever be a way to close the rift. Sighing, Karth sat upright and frowned.
"Sure, Jace, what's on your mind?"
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Jace_Varitek | Date: Tuesday, 26 Jun 2012, 10:34 PM | Message # 9 |
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Generalissimo
Group: Administrators
Messages: 2245
Status: Offline
| Jace sensed the conflict in Karth as soon as he'd mentioned Daneira. Did he have suspicions about her, too? Naturally, Jace remained blissfully unaware of Karth's relationship and the assumptions he was making were quite wrong. But, cognizant of Karth's mixed feelings on this subject, he knew he'd need to approach it carefully. "Well," he said, "You know the Empire doesn't do away with all of us. It'll kill you or me, sure, and here we've been looking over our shoulders all these years, watching our asses. But not those of us who, you know, go to the other side. You've probably sensed them too, over the years. I'm sure you've heard about them. Vader's minions." He scratched his arm, and for moment appeared almost to shiver.
"I'm just saying, she changed the subject when I asked what she'd been up to all this time. And you know who the largest employer of bounty hunters is these days." Jace hoped desperately that Karth would catch his meaning, and he'd not have to lay it out any plainer. "I just wonder if you've thought about it, is all," he added, "You seem kind of, you know, conflicted about her. I know I am."
Jace Varitek
Manager/Administrator from January 2003 to Present
My recent posts here, pre-2009 archives here
"When my information changes, I change my opinion. What do you do, sir?"
—John Maynard Keynes
Furthermore, a dancing Wookiee:
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Tuesday, 26 Jun 2012, 10:46 PM | Message # 10 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Sensed them? Karth fought and killed one on Baltimn some four or five years ago, but that was a story for another time. The Inquisitors had hounded him ever since, though he'd always managed to just barely stay one step ahead. Kolatill had been a reprieve for him, it was considered unimportant in all respects by the Empire; and from what he gathered Imperial dossiers still placed him somewhere in the Mid Rim. Now that he'd been violently thrust back into the grand scheme of things, he had sensed them yet again. A phantom threat, lingering just beyond the edge of his senses; a constant shadow trailing behind him. When Jace asked that question, Karth's expression darkened, gaunt features enhanced by the small window of light seeping into the cargo bay.
"I've... no, I haven't." He sighed, eyes scanning the room for his shirt. He'd hoped that his turmoil wasn't so readily apparent on the surface, no such luck, it seems. "Guess I read like a holobook, huh?
"I don't think she's... one of them." He hesitated there, as if he were afraid that speaking their true name would summon them somehow. Or maybe he hesitated because he doubted his own words? Daneira was so... off, a far cry from the woman he once loved. That she could become so troubled him, he always figured she was far less likely to let the outside universe influence her. Dani had been a constant in his life, his lifejacket amidst the the crashing waves fate continued to toss his way. "If she is... Huh... I wouldn't know."
This time, his gaze narrowed upon Varitek. "I could ask the same about you, though, couldn't I? And I'm sure you've thought the same of me."
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Jace_Varitek | Date: Tuesday, 26 Jun 2012, 11:09 PM | Message # 11 |
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Generalissimo
Group: Administrators
Messages: 2245
Status: Offline
| Jace smiled, an amusing thought having occurred to him. "If you were one of them, I don't think you'd have taken as kindly as you did to my thump to your head. And if I were one, I think I'd have used the shooty end of the blaster, not the handle." He shrugged. "But strangely, no—I haven't thought that about you. The years haven't exactly been kind to any of us, but you still seem like the Karth I knew way back when. Daneira, on the other hand..." He trailed off, the last remnants of his smile fading into an expression as dark as the cargo bay around them, "I mean, true, I didn't know her well in those days, but she doesn't seem like the same person to me."
He held up his hands in a 'wait-a-minute' gesture. "Now, I'm not saying she's one of them," he was quick to add, "I don't know that. But her anger towards me—it's almost like I ruined her 'plan' or something, you know? Maybe you don't," he sighed, "Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I'm paranoid sometimes, Karth. It's the Empire that's done it to me. But I'm just saying, I don't know if I trust her."
"But you knew her better than me," he went on, "You and Daneira paired up a lot during the war, didn't you? I guess if you trust her, I do too. I guess." It wasn't convincing, but it was obvious that Jace was looking to Karth (with his well-earned title of Knight to Jace's Padawan) for reassurance, and wasn't about to take matters into his own hands. Karth would sense, also, that while most of Jace's concern about Daneira was for himself, a good deal of it was for Karth, too.
Jace Varitek
Manager/Administrator from January 2003 to Present
My recent posts here, pre-2009 archives here
"When my information changes, I change my opinion. What do you do, sir?"
—John Maynard Keynes
Furthermore, a dancing Wookiee:
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Saturday, 30 Jun 2012, 8:46 PM | Message # 12 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Karth chuckled initially; if there was anything he could take away from this conversation, it was that Varitek's sense of humor was rather in line with his own. The moment of levity soon passed, however, when Jace delivered the rest of his concerns. The last few words hung heavy in the air around them; and Karth's grim expression remained fixated on the floor. He wasn't quite certain what he was searching for, deep within the recesses of his mind, as he scavenged for a suitable excuse to explain why it is he trusted her when all logic said he shouldn't. Sighing, his dark eyes finally rose back up to meet the other man's, his lips drawing into a thin smile.
"She and I have a... long, history. Goes back before the war, way before."
His forehead sank into his rough hands, fingers working tirelessly at the temples in a vain attempt to exorcise the pain welling there. "There was a time when I'd have done anything for her." He breathed through his palms, fighting back the pitiful sobs that he felt pooling in his stomach. "But now-" he continued, his sorrowful expression masked by the dancing shadows, "-Now she's so... different. Not the Dani I remember.
"So, yes, I do trust her. Maybe it's misplaced, maybe not. But I haven't survived this long without being able to read people."
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Jace_Varitek | Date: Sunday, 12 Aug 2012, 8:26 PM | Message # 13 |
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Generalissimo
Group: Administrators
Messages: 2245
Status: Offline
| Jace nodded, tentatively. "Well, if you trust her then I do, too." He shrugged, "We've all changed in our own ways, I suppose." He looked around the dimly-lit cargo bay, scratching his arm absently. One didn't need the Force to sense that there was something on his mind—his wandering thoughts had taken him to a dark place. "The whole damn galaxy," he mused, repeating what he'd said a moment ago. "We were just kids, man. It's not right, what happened to us. And not only Order 66. All the Jedi bantha shit, you know? I mean—" He stopped, sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, looking to the floor. "I should be grateful, I suppose. For this... 'gift.' There's a lot of people worse off than we are. And hey, you, me, and Dani all found each other after all these years. This is a good day."
He noticed, then, that he'd called her 'Dani' and couldn't remember the last time he had. Must have been a decade ago, on Coruscant. He wondered if he preferred to remember her as she was, then shook his head; he was done thinking about Daneira for tonight. Or was he? In more ways than one, he'd not stopped thinking about her since this morning on Kal'Shebbol.
He took a slow, measured breath and cleared his mind, then found his eyes resting on Karth's lightsaber. "Getting some practice in," he said, to no one in particular. "Don't you ever sleep, Karth?"
Jace Varitek
Manager/Administrator from January 2003 to Present
My recent posts here, pre-2009 archives here
"When my information changes, I change my opinion. What do you do, sir?"
—John Maynard Keynes
Furthermore, a dancing Wookiee:
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Friday, 17 Aug 2012, 5:52 PM | Message # 14 |
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Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| "I'll sleep when I'm dead," he acknowledged in spite of the weariness that had been tugging at him since the conversation began. The difference in energy, even compared to just a few short years ago, was staggering. A simple exercise session used to be nothing; yet here he was, shoulders slack, bags under his eyes, a regular wastrel. As for the notion of Jace, of all people, finding a silver lining? Impressed and slightly unnerved would be the only way to properly describe Karth's reaction to that. It had been a good day, for all intents and purposes. While Varitek might not be a model citizen (or Jedi, for that matter), another blade between them and the Empire was always a good thing.
Still, though, could the Force really be considered a 'gift' in this day and age?
Jace's observation had alerted him to the fact that he was suddenly very, very tired. The conversation had begun to run its course, and De'Qora offered an apologetic smile as he started gathering up his things. "Maybe you should, you look a bit worn out. Makes sense, you got your ass kicked not too long ago." That last bit was said with a wry grin, a clear sign that he'd moved on from the pistol-whip he received during their initial meeting. "Think I'll try and sleep, though. Might need the rest once we get to Kal'Shebbol."
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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| Daneira_Farris | Date: Sunday, 26 Aug 2012, 7:57 PM | Message # 15 |
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Lieutenant
Group: Users
Messages: 73
Status: Offline
| Sitting still never usually ended well for Daneira, not anymore at least. Meditation didn't come easily any longer, but those things happened when one stopped practicing such habits on a daily basis. Instead, she had looked out the small port window. Then she paced the room back and forth. Next she contemplated leaving and forgetting that she even wanted to talk to him, but something deep inside compelled her to stay.
Love.
It hadn't stopped in ten years. Diminished, yes. But it never stopped lingering there in the back of her mind, heart, and her soul. That didn't mean that she would voice it ever again, but it was still there. And yes, she had turned into someone that Karth and even Jace didn't recognize. Maybe it was self preservation. Or maybe she had built those walls to protect herself from being hurt again. Or it could have been both. Daneira wasn't even sure herself anymore. It had only been a few days and every safe, secure thing that she had wrapped herself up in had been destroyed.
She settled herself down again, cross legged, on the end of Karth's neatly made bed. Her journal, tattered leather and well used pages, laid nearby, along with an old friend. A weapon that hadn't been used in years, a silver hilt tarnished from age, and she wasn't even sure that it would work anymore. The thought had occurred to her to tell them both that they would be parting ways once they reached their destination. She knew what they must have thought of her...what Karth must have thought of her. Even though it was too late now, she felt he would be better off still thinking that she was dead.
Daneira knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would be better off still thinking that he was dead.
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