Shii-Cho (Locke)

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Locke....

She hoped a meeting with him would go better than it had the others.

The man had always been a steadfast friend, and she could still remember the vision they had shared, odd and soul shaking as it had been....He and Jazen had seen bits of her own 'vision' previously, yes, but Locke himself knew much more...had seen much more. There was a kind of comfort in that knowledge, something that helped soothe the ache that she still hadn't fully allowed herself to feel and acknowledge, just like there was a sort of comfort in knowing that the man had the understanding and patience of a, well, of a jedi. That was unsurprising, though in a way it also hurt her to her core.

That was an odd thing to realize.

Or perhaps not.

Now, here, sitting on the roof of one of the many buildings on Nar Shaddaa, Talau felt a sense of separation...a sense that she was lost between two worlds. The galaxy had been her home, and she'd traversed it like any jedi did, and she'd been comfortable in her skin, felt that the Order was home and she had her place among the vast array of stars and worlds...and then she had gone to Rilia. Those were her people, her rightful home world, and she felt it in her core that she was one of them. She felt their pain like it was her own, because it was her own...she knew their struggles...she saw their suffering and their hope and the happiness and the way they desperately clung to some sense of normalcy, and she understood. She didn't feel, however, like her home was there, despite knowing her place on the world....

Her home had always been the galaxy...but upon returning to it....?

Talau felt as apart from the galaxy now as she did among her people on Rilia.

The thought, the sensation, had her sighing softly as she gazed out across the sunset-stained buildings.

...It had been a long day.

Still, it wasn't over yet. She couldn't risk Locke leaving before she could speak to him. Closing her eyes, the woman, perched on the ledge of that building and obscured only by duracrete and steel from the rest of the roof, opened herself to the energy that flowed through and around her. The twisting eddies of the Winds curled around her, the refreshing sensation of them soured by the crime and destitution of the city-moon. Higher into the sky of those sweeping winds, however, the flow of it was so much smoother and clearer. Allowing herself to take a moment to breathe and take some rest among the gentle breezes, Talau was more keenly aware of her own person, the discord in herself. It was a sad thing that he would undoubtedly sense it in her as well, she thought, but one she would have to accept as she stretched herself outward toward him.

--"Locke, I..." -- She had started well, confident enough, but then the fear and the doubt and the pain was there, stealing whatever words she may have had for him. The desperation, the knowledge that she had to do something but felt lost....that sense of solitude, of being singularly alone, washed through her, with the righteous anger at the injustices of life...especially those done to the Rilan by their own people.....the fury she felt at it and at the fact that she didn't have the answers for how to best help, that perhaps she couldn't actually help more than anyone else....This was the trouble with opening herself up as much as she had to try and reach out to him.

Silently she wrestled with all of it, taming it and molding it, but that pain....the pain of loss and the pain that stemmed from all of the hurt she'd brought upon Vance....it was too new, too fresh, an old injury reopened and made worse. That pain took longer to muscle into its place than anything else, but once she did her determination had been forged anew....at least for now....and she was reminded, briefly, of Shoal. The image of the shistav was comforting for that moment and she sighed out a deep breath, starting over, as if there wasn't a good chance he'd felt all of that as well.

He was a strong telepath, she knew it, so chances were good he had...but she couldn't let it stop her. She had to try.

--"Locke, I need to speak to you....face to face if possible....I know you're here on Nar Shaddaa. I didn't want to risk a regular com in case....Please, let me know where I can meet you. Right now I'm up on some building, looking over a casino. I followed your presence this far but....Vance is in there and I can't....risk getting closer than I am."--

[Rugs]

“Gotcha,” Locke said, knuckling his chin. He stood just before the entrance of one of the district’s many casinos, with a small comm in his his hand. The excited voice of his junior Investigator buzzed through a device in his ear. “Well, keep on with the angle you’re working. I’ll tackle what I can from my side” He paused again, thinking about if there was anything to add. Nothing that he wanted to say standing in public.

“I’ll check back in at 2300.”

click

The heavily encrypted channel closed and Locke slid his comm back into his pocket. Interesting times abounded on the Smuggler’s Moon, it seemed. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, on a world such as Nar Shaddaa. Even so, a battle at a breakfast diner, a reunion with his old student — these were not the things Locke expected when he’d arrived.

It was okay, though. He’d long since learned to adjust to unexpected circumstances.

A Zabrak shouldered past him on the way into The Burning Star. “Rude,” Locke muttered under his breath as he watched the man stagger into the casino’s gaping maw. Lights, vibrant red and orange, filtered out through the casino’s tinted windows, joined occasionally by faint electric zinging and beeping as the trio of doors along the front wall opened to admit or release patrons.

Locke glanced at his chronometer. It was getting late. Vance shouldn’t be too much longer. They’d come here together to pick up some Emerald Wine. The drink was apparently incredibly popular in this sector, and Lidah had a favor to call in from The Burning Star’s owner.

Vance and a few workers should’ve been enough to get the wine loaded onto the speeder for the quick trip across a few blocks to the Eye, but something was slowing them down. You need a hand in there? Locke sent a text to Vance’s comm. He’d just tagged along to spend time with the lad, but if he needed a hand, it wasn’t-

"Locke, I..."

The Force rippled before the words came. Both where dulled, with Locke’s presence partially drawn in as it was. The voice was familiar, though it took a moment for recognition to settle in.

Talau?

The words came again. It was her, asking to meet him. Locke would have been surprised, but the last day and a half on Nar Shaddaa had been so surprising that all he could do was laugh. Why not?

”Well,” he started, looking down at his spacer’s attire, "can’t say I’m necessarily dressed to meet with a Jedi, but sure. It’s been some time.”

His brow furrowed slightly, thinking of a place to meet. She couldn’t risk getting close to Vance? That’s odd.

”Follow the main way in front of this place north about a hundred meters,” he said. “You’ll find a little square with some shops. There’s an inn there called the Kneeling Nomad, for reference. Big sign, can’t miss it. I’ll meet you there.”

He pulled his comm back out to thumb a message to Vance. Actually, something came up. Will be back soon if I can. If not, head on back to Eye without me. I’ll catch up.

He stuffed it back into his coat and set off into the evening.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

The feeling of relief as he replied to her was instant, and surprisingly strong. Thank the winds... she mused to herself, careful to keep that, at least, shielded from him. The moments between her words and his reply...not even more than a singular heartbeat...had felt like a year to the woman, all of her tense and on edge. As he mentioned not being dressed to meet a jedi she paused, baffled, before nearly choking on a suppressed laugh, some sort of odd amusement rippling out from her through their linked minds.

She could understand his thought process, but it amused her anyway...

...after all, it wasn't as if a Jedi's mission couldn't keep them out for quite long stretches, especially a shadow. It all depended upon the task they were set to, and add to that the war, the fact that he'd been busy no doubt....her absence from the Order hadn't been noticed. Or at least it wasn't a concern. Still....

--When do I ever like to look like a jedi, Locke?-- she replied, already starting to stand carefully once more. --I'll see you there...and thank you.-- She probably didn't have to thank him, but she did feel the need to, even as she pulled back to herself and took a running leap for the next building with a spring through the force, her presence wrapping closer about herself with every step, every bound and every leap she took, steadily working her way down to the main walkway once more.

Considering she kept herself away from people and traffic for the most part, it didn't take her long to get to the square, though she did take a bit longer getting through the building and to the walkway itself without disturbing anyone. Deft hands stowed Talon in it's holder on her belt so it would be out of sight, the weapon not needed here in this area as much as the last she'd been in...at least, not needed to be in the open as a visible deterrent. Peering around as she caught her breath, grey eyes spotted the rather detailed sign of the Kneeling Nomad. It....certainly hadn't been the sort of thing she'd expected, with neon lights and a moving image of what the owners must have considered to be a nomad. It looked sort of like one of the Sandpeople to her.

Who knows...

Shrugging it off she padded toward the door, brushing her cloak back behind her shoulders and adjusting her hood back just enough to show light on her face but keep that mane of hair and feathers covered. She was still wearing that leather armor so typical of her, but the only thing left on her that looked jedi was her utility belt. Her boots were black with blue metal covering, silver and gold detailing a symbol similar to the one she wore around her neck, her gauntlets made to match and coming up to just below the elbow. It was just to the side of the door that she waited, reaching out to sense when he came close.

[Rugs]

The walk to the square from the Burning Star was a short one. Locke ambled along at a leisurely pace, hands stuffed into his pockets as he blended into the crowd rather than seem a man who was in a hurry to be anywhere in particular. You never could know who was watching on Nar Shaddaa, after all.

It wasn’t long before he found the square he’d pointed Talau to, and in it, that goofy sign that highlighted The Kneeling Nomad. Locke couldn’t help but snicker every time he saw the thing, but he couldn’t deny it made an easy landmark for meetings.

It was quieter here, away from the rush and bustle of the main street, though quiet was a relative thing on Nar Shaddaa. People of all species abounded, and the Force nearly thrummed from all the life around him.

Still, he could pick out Talau as he approached the meeting place, both in the Force and with his eyes — it’d be hard to miss her, given her dress — and nodded in greeting as he approached.

“Well hello there, stranger,” he said, offering a smile. “It’s been some time. Feels like a damn geologic age.” He motioned at the door, asking silently if she’d like to step inside the Kneeling Nomad. “They’ve got a little cafe that’s pretty quiet. Good place to catch up.”

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

She was lost....mostly in her own thoughts, but also in the swirling energy around her. Even as shielded as she was, the sheer press of life around her was a burden on the sensitive telepath. Her eyes only barely saw Locke at first, drawn to him by the sensation of his presence before she managed to blink herself back to seeing the physical...and there he was like a memory.

...She wasn't sure yet if it was a painful one or not.

Those dulled grey orbs took him in, small threads of violet and blue managing to find their way into the stormy color that had taken over her previously vibrant eyes. That smile of his earned a ghost of one in return. "Hi, Locke....yes, it has. Too long, apparently..." Following his gesture with her eyes, she nodded a little as she looked back to him. "Sounds fine," she replied with another nod, picking herself up from where she was leaning and heading to the door, letting it slide open for them.

Stepping inside she peered around quietly to get her bearings as she spoke. "Thank you for meeting with me. I know it's unexpected...I didn't think you would be here...I didn't think anyone I knew would be here, but..." Trailing off, she sighed a little and headed for the warmly lit cafe in the corner of the lobby, finding a table a little off to the side of where the majority of people were sitting, sipping at this or that. Pulling a seat out for him, she settled herself into another one.

[Rugs]

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Locke said with a mildly dismissive wave as they settled down in the Kneeling Nomad’s cafe. It was a nice place, understated and simple. Most importantly, they were alone for the moment.

“And suffice to say, I didn’t expect you, of all people, to come falling out of the sky here of all places,” Locke smiled, keeping a chuckle in his throat. “But here you are. Force is funny like that, huh?”

How long had it been since he’d seen her? Years. It felt at once an age and not at all that long — the war had a way of keeping Locke constantly busy, and even the “peace” that followed had offered little reprieve. Especially with the underworld teetering on the verge of an inferno that promised to be just as chaotic as the war itself had been.

“So how’ve the years treated you?” Locke asked. “I hope the years have been kinder to you than they have to many of us.” He smiled ruefully — an expression that didn’t quite reach his storm-grey eyes. “But somehow I doubt things have been that simple.”

They never were.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

How had the years treated her....

Her mind flickered through it all in an instant as she gazed at the small menu and tapping in her order for a particular flavor of caf she liked. "Not as well as I would like..." she replied, finally looking back up at him. "I understand my appearance is sudden and unusual...to be honest I wasn't here for any reason other than this was where the Winds brought me in my need to see Vance again..."

That had her trailing off, those grey eyes darkening slightly, but not in anger. A frown etched its way along her face for a moment before she shook her head. "I was just as surprised to notice my bonds to you and Jazen appeared as well....I hadn't at all expected either of you, certainly not....apart." It seemed the war had done irreparable damages, and was still doing them. She shook her head slightly once more, her eyes moving to the table once more, searching, but not for anything she would find there. She hated the fact that she found herself walking through a verbal mine field all the time. For years now she'd been doing it, and now that these were people she knew from her past...that her link to them (as Vance had proven) was on the line...it was especially difficult and disconcerting.

Painful, is the word, Tal...call it what it is.

She sighed a little she folded her hands on the table and looked back up to him. "Do you recall the visions we shared at all, Locke?"

[Rugs]

“You and me both,” Locke said with a sad laugh and shake of his head. Taris. Ithor. Shili. Arkania. The husks of dead ships falling from orbit to mighty Coruscant itself. Countless other battles in that damned war. His student turning his back on the Jedi and their lessons, and the Jedi turning their backs on his.

It was the mental weight of the years that pressed at the mind, scarred the soul more than the physical weariness.

“But we soldier on, best we can,” he said. “Best we know how.” For better or for worse.

Talau’s appearance was unexpected--she was certainly right about that. But if Locke Nemsee knew one thing for certain, it was that the Force specialized in unexpected turns of events.

For better or for worse.

Locke leaned back in his chair at her question, searching his mind. It was from what felt like a different age. Sure the war was still on, at the time, but it was in its infancy. It was a distant thing. Some scraps of memory remained, but others, and finer details, had been lost — forced to scatter by the chaos of the near decade since.

“Vaguely,” he said, looking at her. “An arid world, a battle.” He tilted his head this way and that, jaw working as he thought. “Why do you ask?”

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Talau watched him work through the memories, trying to find what had once been so clear. The thought made her sigh. So much of the life she had built was like that now....vague, faded, tatters of what it had been. It seemed meaningless now. Maybe it was?

Maybe that Talau was dead and whoever...whatever...she was now was simply clinging to the tattered shreds in a fruitless endeavor to reconnect...

...that was the saddest thought she'd had in a long time...

"Why do you ask?"

"Because that's where I've been," she replied simply. "Fighting that fight....again, apparently....if my visions are anything to go off of," she added simply, a mild shrug following the comment. Dulled, grey, eyes fixed themselves on him, absorbing his appearance as if she might not ever again. Who was to say, after all?

Another wave of pain lanced through her knowing that's how it would be with Vance, and probably Jazen. She pulled in a deep breath as those eyes somehow managed to press out any remaining color to become a dismal shade of slate grey. "Locke, my people need outside help...at this point we're simply delaying the inevitable. Both sides know each other so well that it's a matter of numbers now...and we simply don't have the numbers. We need new ideas and new ways of thinking that I alone can't give." She silently tapped one finger against the table as her eyes fell to the drink that had (at some point) been served. "I intend to go back to the temple and make my case to them, and remind them...if I must...of our shared history, of the allies we could be if given the chance. I had hoped you would be closer to the temple to help me make my case....but it seems that isn't what the force intended...is it..."

[Rugs]

“Who can say?” Locke asked. “The Force does what it wills, it seems, our own wants be damned.” He scratched at his chin thoughtfully. “Else I would’ve spent the past seven years relaxing on a beach somewhere instead of dealing with that damn war and its fallout.”

Talau was, or would be, rather, seeking help. Going to the Jedi made sense — she was, after all, still one of them, even after being away for so long. But how willing would the Order be to tie itself to another conflict, after dragging its heels to come to the defense of the Republic itself? And what might support look like — a few Jedi sent to help, or the full backing of the Order itself?

“Good call to seek help from the Order,” he said thoughtfully. “To tell you the truth, I cannot say when I’ll next be back on Coruscant. You understand as well as any how unpredictable the lives we lead can be. But I can put in a word. Remotely, or with a message.”

His expression turned momentarily rueful. How much weight do my words carry, these days? Among the Investigators, Locke was well known and respected. But he was often gone from Coruscant, for long periods of time. The war’s end hadn’t changed that. I wasn’t even able to sway them about my own student.

“If they don’t listen, or refuse to offer aid, you might seek help from the Republic itself,” he said. “It hasn’t spent the last two years simply resting on its laurels waiting for the Sith to attack again.” These days, the Republic sought to fortify itself and find allies beyond its own space. Even in worlds that didn’t join the Republic, a friend was someone who might not turn against you when the Sith came knocking. The Republic, at least, offered choice, while the Sith brought only demands.

“I’m sure that with a Jedi — maybe multiple — vouching for the gravity of the situation, the Republic would at least consider helping,” he said. “And that would go a long way toward turning the tides for your people.”

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

(going to finish thread and then Tal will vanish off]

She couldn't deny the truth of his words. The force always did seem to have its own way of doing things, and did whatever it pleased, whether they enjoyed it or not. All anyone could do was let go and only focus on controlling their own actions. Everything else would fall into place around them. That was her way of thinking, anyway.

"That's fine....and understandable. I appreciate whatever help I can get, honestly...things are desperate on Rilia. I would prefer not to bring the Republic into the conflict as they have their own habit of trying to absorb planets into it, and until we get our own affairs straight after the fighting ends, however it ends, entering into such a planetary gathering could be dangerous. As for the Order listening...chances are they will, to some degree. Not only do they owe Rilia, but they can't afford the Feanturi to fall, leaving the planet open to the Sith and other dark jedi to influence our affairs." Pulling out a datapad she would turn it on, flip through a few folders and then settle it down, turning it to face him. The image glowing up at him was a cavern of crystals...saber crystals.

"That is just one cave of many. Much of our technology utilizes them, and I've discovered that the technology for creating similar ones is fairly advanced and simplified. If for no other reason that should be enough for them to take notice and take action...but my voice doesn't hold any real sway in the Order, not any more....not....not after Chronos, not after failing Vance, certainly not after vanishing for so long...you, at least, will have more clout than I will."

[Rugs]

Locke tilted his head this way and that, thoughtful. In a sense, he supposed he could understand a reluctance at asking the Republic for help. In another, the Jedi were essentially an arm of the Republic.

“That is, of course, a decision you, or your people as a whole would have to make,” he said with a reserved nod. “I don’t pretend to know the ins and outs of your conflict, but sometimes we find ourselves at difficult inflection points.” Was the risk of an outside influence worth the cost of winning a war? It wasn’t his right to say. But even should the Republic opt to court Rilia’s admission, it was a lengthy, and voluntary affair. It took time to be sure a world met the requirements of the Coruscant Accords, after all.

He leaned back, considering the crystals. It was an interesting development, to say the least. What worth they would have to the Council, though, he couldn’t say.

“They might find some interest in that, yes,” he said. “Though you do yourself a, I’d say. Your voice should be as valued as any, familiar with the conflict as you are.”

And what was this about Vance? Locke thought to ask, but a vibration in his pocket caught his attention. He glanced down, catching a glimpse at his comm. ”Problem carrying the goods. Need a hand.”

Locke wanted to roll his eyes, but settled for sighing through his nose instead. That was surely code for some larger problem he’d have to help with.

“Unfortunately, work calls me away. As I said, simply know when you want me to put in a word and I will, even if I have to do so remotely.” He smiled warmly, spreading his hands briefly. “It has been good to see you again, Talau. Maybe it’ll be under better circumstances next time, eh? I think we’ve all had enough of warring.”