A Song in Shadows [Saki]

[Meira]

After Bothawui, it seemed wise not to return to Nar Shaddaa. At least... not right away. Jayec had been less than receptive to what Ylva was trying to accomplish there. What she had accomplished there. She smiled. It was slow, but day by day, the voices of the galaxy were joining together. Looking around surreptitiously as she sipped her drink, Ylva counted the number of people in the cantina. How many would be like her, their voice fitting perfectly into that eternal song? How many would succumb to the overwhelming glory of the Chorus? How many poor souls would be doomed to discordance? It was funny, Ylva had never considered herself a religious or even a spiritual person. What the fuck did any of that matter? But ever since her mind had been opened to truth and the beauty of the eternal song, she often found herself marveling at the grandeur of it all. And her heart, which she'd always held in protective and selfish reserve, ached freely for the plight of those deaf to the song of all. It was this zealous fervor, accompanied by an admittedly morbid curiosity, that brought Ylva to Saki rather than back home to Nar Shaddaa.

The Sakiyans were famed hunters, with senses that rivaled the force sensitive beings of the galaxy. And yet, the number of force sensitives among them was notably lower than the galactic average. The Chorus, prior to entering Hutt Space, had never encountered such blasphemy as an individual who dared to sing alone, nor had they encountered quite so many of the damned who could not sing at all. The absorption and adaptation to this newfound knowledge had been slow, but the Chorus was beginning to understand the awful truth that many in this strange galaxy would simply have to be eradicated to make way for the song. Would these Sakiyans prove to be comprised mostly of the damned? The answer was not yet definitive, though the prospects seemed grim.

So far, Ylva and Remy had little success in converting locals. They'd had to be extremely careful, of course, as a full scale infection and invasion was not yet forthcoming. The Chorus, in light of growing understanding of the galaxy was taking time to build strength for the continuation of the song. So she and Remy were selecting individuals with extreme care, ensuring that none would be missed should the gift not take root, or should it overwhelm the physical being of the voice. Like on Nar Shaddaa, they were using an inhaled drug, laced with Archeri spores as their agent. Those who were damned would get high and nothing more. She or Remy could send them on their way, none the wiser. Those who were receptive, but to weak in the presence of the Chorus were cared for until their bodies gave way and became to fertile soil to the small crystal they'd brought with them. So far, Ylva and Remy had only managed to find one Sakiyan who's voice rang true with the song of all. Url, heart now open to the Chorus, did much of the leg work for them since his conversion, leaving Ylva and Remy time to tend to the imperfect and to analyze the data.

In the mean time, Ylva did what she could to keep tabs on her former, but hopefully soon to be reunited, comrades of the Blind Eye. The Jolly Janitors had mostly removed themselves from Nar Shaddaa and were now spread out to do the work of the Chorus. Simone, though, had abandoned them and Ylva was still not sure where he'd run off to. From what she could gather, Lidah had been infected, but was resisting the call of the Chorus. A pity. Ylva knew that meant that Arkandri would follow suit, and she knew first hand how Jayec felt. The rest, though, were perhaps still able to be saved. And so she'd sent out messages, hoping to connect with the more open-minded of Lidah's host. One in particular, Forte, seemed like a promising prospect. He'd been there with the first time they'd boarded the Jolly Giant. That had been the beginning for Ylva. Perhaps he, of all Lidah's favored, would understand.

She would know soon enough. Either he'd show up at the cantina, or he wouldn't.

[Jazen]

The armor clad individual strode easily through the crowd, his footsteps light and swift, his movements through the busy street so gentle and controlled that despite the chaos of the busy street, Jazen rarely bumped into anyone with anything more then a slight brush of the shoulder or arm. Was it his skills or were the natives just as good at controlling their movements like he was? Who could say; these Sakiyans were famed for their senses and skills. Or maybe they just didn't want to touch the strange man who wore such dark and threatening armor.

Normally, Jazen wouldn't have likely found himself on this planet. It was not part of the Exchange's interests and with so much else going on in the galaxy, a side trip to a planet like this was not likely to be part of his itinerary. Lidah was barely holding it together and it had been nonstop for him since her infection by the Archeri, keeping Exchange interests intact and getting their operatives out of the way of the approaching Archeri offensive, if you could call it that. He was still fresh off his mission to the homeworld of the Gamoraans when a new call had come in, from an interesting source. One he hadn't expected to get, yet he couldn't deny the small smile that had graced his face when it did. For the call had come from none other then Ylva, the stunning and commanding leader of the Jolly Janitors, with whom Jazen had been with when the first bit of this Acheri situation had arrived.

Jazen knew she had been infected as well, since none of them could have known what that white powder had been at the time. Thankfully his suit had been fully sealed, otherwise he might have been in the same situation as Io'an right now...or worse. Jazen had kept an eye on her for a bit after the knowledge of her infection, all of them really, to see where they stood. But from what he could tell at the time before they parted, she seemed...herself. It had been a while since then, but her call had been normal enough. Jazen had offered her before they left to show her how to use her new abilities, if she so required or wanted and at the time, she had declined. But now?

Now he was entering the cantina she had asked them to meet at to find out. A quick sweep with his senses, both physical and non, showed him exactly where she was. He moved casually and easily into the gloom of the place and settled across from her, his T-visor meeting her gaze silently. He simply sat there for a moment, quiet amongst the busy cantina, before his voice came through. "So. You look well; taking some vacation time?"

[Meira]

"Hey, I get it. But a lot of people want this." Ylva's gesture encompassed all of herself. "But this..." she then gestured to the large round head of the Sakiyan man standing by her booth. He had one hand flat on the table as he leaned over her. "kinda grosses me out." The man chuckled, but Ylva did not. The lecherous smile faded from his face as he realized she wasn't joking. When the point sank in, Ylva shooed the man away with a wave of her hand. When he'd gone, she sighed and settled back into the chair and checked her chrono. He was late.

She was about to stand to leave when a silent figure lowered itself down across from her in the booth. Ylva looked up to see that it was Forte and aborted her movement to stand and leave the cantina. There was an awkward moment then as Ylva waited for him to say something. Hello, maybe. But he just sat there, staring at her. Or, she assumed he was. It was hard to tell what someone was actually looking at with those helmets on. She found herself wondering, idly, hif Forte's had that little straw that Jayec's had. The thought brought a hint of a smile to her face.

Then Forte finally spoke. Still not the typical hello, but since when had the mysterious boy ever been typical? Ylva let out a bark of laughter at Forte's question. Vacation? What a pointless concept that was turning out to be. And it had never been much in her vocabulary even before her heart was filled by the eternal song.

"Hardly." she said with a huff. "Buy you a drink?" Before Forte could accept or decline, Ylva was waving down one of the waiters and ordered two more Corellian whiskeys. The one she was nursing was all but gone, so she finished it off and handed the empty glass over to the waiter as he turned to leave. "Just trying to keep my head down, ya know? Shit is fucked seven ways to Nal Hutta. But you know that."

Ylva waved her hand, indicating she understood she wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. Ylva might not have been entirely clear on what it was that Forte did for Lidah and the exchange, but she knew it was more of the clandestine nature than straight forward criminal enterprising. And he often traveled for long periods of time. She also knew that he held himself apart from the others, with walls built up around himself just like the armor he constantly wore.

"I just want to make it through this. But that shit is messing with people." she said, putting what she felt to be an appropriate amount of emotion for such an assertion into her voice. "It's messing with me. I don't how how to control this... Force, or whatever."

At that moment, the waiter returned with their drinks. Ylva promptly shut up as the man set the two glasses onto the table between them. Her hand immediately encircled the one closer to her and then used it to slide the other closer to Forte. Once the waiter had moved far enough away, Ylva leaned in over the table. "I need your help."

[Jazen]

With his face masked by his helmet at the moment, Ylva couldn't see that the sudden bark of laughter brought a smile to his face. Like all those he associated with that had come into contact with the Archeri, Jazen had been slightly worried that Ylva would have fallen to its graces or worse yet, ended up as fodder for expanding for them like the weaker were. He still wasn't entirely sure but she seemed to be doing well despite it, which made him relax. But only a little bit. His guard rarely went down much these days.

With an almost casual indifference to her question, the only acknowledgement she got for an answer was his hands moving to his helmet to pull it off. It came off easily, the seals removing with a click of his tongue so to speak. He placed it on the table in front of him, revealing a face that would be handsome in most circles, if it weren't for the scars that marred it in places. A story all its own on his features of how his life hadn't been easy, Jedi or no Jedi. "Hard not to notice these days. Its a never ending battle but then, what else is new? For those of us in this profession, even before the Archeri, that's pretty much our daily life." He shrugged his shoulders and settled into his seat, eyes always watching the exits and the people around him. Old habits die hard.

Especially that one man. He seemed to be staring daggers at this table. At him? Or at Ylva. Hmmm.

"We all do. Its getting harder by the day however. Closer and closer they come and its...infuriating how hard it is to stay one step ahead of them. If not for my suit, I'm not entirely certain I wouldn't be in the same situation you are right now. Well, perhaps not quite the same." It was indeed. He remembered Io'an and Cassy, struggling to resist the call of the Archeri every day, every action they took using their new powers, or in Cassy's case, her enhanced powers, tempting them to surrender. He could not even imagine the struggle. No, that wasn't entirely true. He could, in a way. It was like when he was a Jedi still, resisting the call to darkness, to give into that sweet taste of anger and hate and the power that came with it. Sure, he had eventually, but he'd learned how to work with it, not let it overcome him. Perhaps that could be done with those infected as well.

An eyebrow quirked up at that last part as she pushed his glass to him. Without a word, he opened his hand and the glass slid the rest of the way to him, as casually and easily as if he was picking up a rock. "I figured as much. I would have been able to help sooner, but I've been a bit busy." He downed the drink in a single go, dropping the glass as he finished...and letting it float there in front of him. "It won't be easy. This simple thing I'm doing may look easy, but its with years of experience. Your, pardon I mean no offense here, old. Far older then the young ones they start training at the temple. So some of this might be much harder for you to learn. That doesn't mean I can't." He eyed the glass, spinning it slowly and then putting it down in front of her.

"But your going to have to be patient in learning. You'll be tempted to give into frustration, anger if it doesn't go well quickly. If you can do that, I can teach you. If you can't, well...I'll still try anyway." He offered a gloved hand to her, hand extended. "Deal?"

[Meira]

Ylva swallowed her own drink like it was an afterthought, leaving the empty vessel on the table between then. Luckily, Forte didn't take long to make up his mind. But, he also decided to show off a little bit while he did it. Ylva resisted the urge to glance around the cantina as he hovered the glass in the air between them. His words were things she already knew. Thel had already told her as much when she'd first been exposed. Though, he'd managed to do it without calling her old. Ylva smirked at Forte. He wasn't exactly a smooth operator, but she had always been one that appreciated honesty.

"Deal." She said, her own hand reaching up to shake his once as she stood. But before she stepped sideways out of the booth, Ylva leaned over the table to bring her face a little closer to his. "Don't do shit like that in public here, champ. People are wary."

Ylva stepped out of the booth, dropped a few credits onto the table by their empty glasses, and then gestured with her head toward the door. She turned and made her way in that direction with long, confident strides. Outside, it had just become dark enough for street lights to kick on. There was large crowd out, ambling along the streets and enjoying the warm weather. Ylva moved through them all with relative ease. Knowing where one was going and having a natural "don't fuck with me" resting face made that easy. She led Forte several blocks down the main drag, past diners and other cantinas, then turned off onto a smaller street. This one had less foot traffic, as these buildings housed businesses more akin to warehouses and manufacturing than nightlife.

"We've got ourselves a nice little set up down here." Ylva said, turning down yet a side alley. The walls along either side were high, and the dead end wall held one door, tall and wide. "Temporary, of course, but it does fine." Ylva stepped over to a keypad beside the door and put in the code. With just a slight groan of old machinery, the large door opened and Ylva gestured for Forte to move through.

Beyond the door was a courtyard, of sorts. It was open air and large enough to allow machines to move crates around. There were, in fact, several crates in the space, most stacked along walls but some simply out in the middle of the courtyard. On the wall to their right, another door stood. "We can practice here." she said, gesturing around the courtyard, then pointed toward the door. "You want me to show you around first or can we just get started?"

[Jazen]

Hands shook, deal in place. And Jazen's face remained stoic as hers came dangerously close to whisper to him, unsure of her intentions until she whispered a soft warning. Ah. A fair point, considering the Archeri gave everyone who were properly infected the ability to do as such. Something to consider on any planet lately; he imagined it must be hell for the Jedi.

He slipped behind her with practiced skill, falling into step easily as he replaced his helmet atop his head. As they exited, he gave the man who was slipping daggers with his eyes at the both of them a long hard stare as he walked out, right till he left the door. A warning that whatever his reasons, he was to stay away. Stepping out into the dark streets, he followed Ylva with ease, a mixture of both his learned skills and using the Force to gently feel her presence ahead of him. She had an easy enough profile to follow. Between her and the armored form that he was, passing through the crowd was easy. Most slipped out of the way or gave them a wide berth.

It took them a tiny trip but eventually, they arrived at what he assumed was a safehouse of sorts for Ylva, her crew or perhaps the Exchange itself. The inside was sparse, save for some crates in the middle and along the wall. A distribution center for certain goods perhaps? If it was part of the Exchange, Jazen was not aware of it, but that was hardly a surprise. Perhaps it was something of Ylva's herself?

"The choice is yours, although you can give me the grand tour later perhaps. We can do a primary assessment of what you can and cannot do here and then, perhaps, you can show me around while I figure out the best way to guide you in the use of your abilities." Casually, Jazen unlatched a pocket on his belt and tossed a series of credits onto the crate in front of him. With his hand, he gestured to them and kept his hand outstreched, palm up. "Let's establish a base line. See if you can touch those with the Force and move them to my hand." Light, simple, a most basic lesson for a young Padawan. It would give him an idea of how in touch she was with her new abilities.

"Simple advice. Everything is connected to the Force, even the non-living. Even these credits. Feel them. Focus on them." And now to wait; he had never gotten to be a teacher as a Knight. So this would be a first for him as well.

[Meira]

"Right" she said, watching as Forte approached one of the crates.

Something tingled at the edge of her consciousness then, as Forte laid out the credits on the top of the crate. She only half heard his instructions as she tried to identify the feeling. It was like an itch, but somewhere... to her... right. The inner door from the courtyard opened and Remy stepped into view. As soon as Ylva turned her head and saw the man, she understood what the sensation was. It was him. She knew the Jedi had all sorts of tricks, and being able to feel who was nearby, and where was one of them. But she hadn't quite figured out how that worked for her. For example, she knew that she should be able to feel Forte within that weird force thing, but she could not. She could only feel Remy, and the others that had been brought into the Chorus. And even they she could only feel when they were close.

I called to you. I could feel you were bringing someone back. Remy's voice spoke into her mind. It took some effort for Ylva not to flinch at the sensation of it. That was another thing she could not seem to do. Her eyes, violet of their own accord, glared into his. She didn't need the force to convey her own thoughts back to him, but he read them anyway. You know I can't do that.

"Remy." he said out loud, turning his attention to Forte. "I don't believe we've officially met." He moved over to Forte, hand out for the man to shake.

Ylva, peeved, turned her attention instead toward the task Forte had set out for her. Her eyes focused on the credits as she tried to figure out how to make them move. Every time she'd moved things before, she'd just done it because it had to be done. At the laundromat, when she'd faced off against Jayec on Bothawui; she didn't think... she just did it. But any time she tried to move something, nothing would happen. Remy stood next to Forte to watch and Ylva was wary of his eyes on her. This was probably right up his alley. Seeing that he wasn't about to wander off to do something else, Ylva grunted and refocused her attention back on the coins. She flexed her jaw, trying to imagine the coins lifting into the air. She tried imagining them already in Forte's outstretched hand. She put out her own hand, closed her eyes, and imagined lifting them up with her own fingers and dropping them into Forte's hand. Second after second ticked by, and the closest she'd come was when she thought she might have just barely felt the edge of one of the credits on her fingertips.

Frustrated, Ylva growled and turned away. She pushed her hand through the air in frustration, as if brushing away an imagined fly. And with no thought at all, the crate the credits had been left on went flying toward Forte and Remy. For his part, Remy hopped aside at the last moment, doing his best to suppress a chuckle.

"Laugh it up!" Ylva growled, squaring toward him.

"Hey, boss. C'mon." Remy said, holding his hands up in surrender. "It can't all be as easy as throwing tanks and pulling down buildings."

"Don't you have work to do?" she snapped.

Remy nodded, then turned toward Forte. "Be gentle, eh? She's a tender one."

Another crate flew toward him, but Remy moved quickly back through the door into the compound and was gone.

[Jazen]

That same sensation that Ylva felt when Remy entered the room, Jazen felt it as well, only for him, it was felt a lot sooner. Being able to sense someone approaching with the Force was another common skill most had and with years of practice, could sense someone from farther away if needed. Since they were mostly alone in his area, feeling the man approaching hadn't taken much effort at all. But he had given off no warning of danger, so Jazen hadn't reacted to him as he focused on giving Ylva her task. If she brought it up with him, Jazen would add that to the list of things he could try and teach her, how to focus on them, how to notice familiar people form farther and farther away. But the focus for the moment, of course, was in the most basic of tricks and one that could give him a guide to her strengths.

She shouldn't be concerned about not being able to sense Jazen though. He had learned from his friend Talau some of the tricks a shadow used to make themselves almost invisible in the Force and although he was no master of it, he knew enough to keep his profile very low in the Force. For someone who struggled with it, he might as well be a Ghost.

"Forte." He said, turning back to him and shaking his hand with a firm grip. He said no more, as he tilted his armored helmet back to watch Ylva work. He folded his arms across his chest, said nothing, did nothing, merely watched. His hand was still out though, a landing pad for the tiny armada of chits she was trying to move. But he didn't watch the chits. He watched Ylva's profile and her face, watched the strain on it, the struggle, the tension in her body. Far too much tension of such a simple task. Memories of his own training flashed back, but still, he said nothing. Observe, then act, was what Locke had always taught him. He needed the full picture before he made an assessment. He felt the frustration building in her, like a wave rising, rising...and finally it crested when she flung her hand away in anger.

And the chits went flying.And so did the crate

Jazen's hand moved ever so slightly and stopped them right before him and Remy, where they floated easily, as if mocking her. Then the crate floated to the side and settled there, the chits landing atop it. He let her shipmate rag her a bit before getting involved again, nodding to the man as the second crate went flying and Jazen deflected that one as well.

"Interesting." He said casually as he stepped over to her, removing his helmet and putting it on the crate beside him. "When you focus, you achieve nothing. When you get angry, it was nothing." He studied her, eyes barely moving but they were piercing as he watched and thought about the reaction. "Have you moved things before like that? Just reacted and things moved?" Pause, let her answer. "All things are connected to the Force, as I said. For someone skilled, moving anything, from a tiny chit, to a starfighter, is no different. What makes all the difference, is here." He reached up and touched her forehead lightly. "You were struggling because to me, you seemed desperate to move it. Your frustrated because its not easy yet others make it so. Perhaps others inflicted with the Chorus do it so naturally, it angers you."

He moved to the side and motioned to the chits and the crate. "Don't listen to Remy's taunts. Don't be angry or frustrated it doesn't come easy. Know, up here, that you can move them. You just did and it was easy, wasn't it? Think hard on easy it was with that anger, but remove the anger. Find what you did in that moment that made it seem so easy, how you felt them so easily to move them so violently. Toss them around all you like if you need to vent and try again." He smiled lightly, but it was a smile of encouragement, not teasing. "Your not the only one who had a hard time with this the first time either. Okay? Remember. Know you can move them. Don't think you maybe able to move them. Know it. Begin."

He hoped he was doing a good job. He had never had to teach it, always the student. May Locke's lessons guide him.

[Meira]

"I swear..." she grumbled as Forte made his initial observation. "If you come at me with that clear your mind bullshit, I'm gonna rip out your tongue."

She could feel the muscles in her shoulder, her back, tensing. After the laundromat... after she'd been awakened, Ylva had set about the work of bringing the rest of her Jolly Janitors into the Chorus. It hadn't been an easy thing. Something like half of her men were now dead. No, she thought, not dead. Their voices had joined the eternal song. She couldn't feel them here, so far from the Spire, but she would soon. A precious few were blessed as she was, able to carry out the vanguard work of the Chorus in preparing what populations they could to be brought into the song in their own time. This world, unfortunately, would likely be razed. Too few could accept the song into their hearts. Like those unfortunate among her men who were abominations, these people would have to be put out of their misery. For what else could eternal separation from the song of all be but a hellish torment? No being, however vile, deserved such a fate. She, Remy, and those they'd left behind on Bothawui, would have to endure with patience. They were not so fortunate as to join the Chorus right away. They were burdened with their task, but would be rewarded with glorious new forms when the full might of the Spire unleashed. She saw them in her dreams, those giant, godly forms. That was her destiny now. But she had to be worthy.

"Have you moved things before like that? Just reacted and things moved?"

Ylva scoffed. What -I- have done is nothing. She wanted to say it, but he would not understand. He could not understand. He continued. It was difficult not to snatch his hand when he touched at her forehead; break his fingers, tell him to fix that and see how angry he got. Of course she was angry. But not for the reasons he suspected. Maybe this was a mistake. He wasn't making sense. Think about what made it easy? being angry made it easy. But do it without the anger? She was just more angry now at the absurdity. No, what would make it easier would be to go back... closer to the Spire and the countless voices of the Chorus. The crystal they kept here was like an ember compared to that blazing sun of life and song. She scarcely felt that she could breathe here, so far away. Never mind perform stupid parlor tricks.

"Toss them around all you like if you need to vent and try again."

"I'll toss you around." she grumbled.

Forte only smiled, spoke his words that he surely thought were encouraging, and implored her try again. She glared at him, then heaved a sigh and turned back to the chits. Those stupid credits on that stupid crate. She tried the stupid clear your mind bullshit. Honestly, the Jedi were a bunch of tools. She tried to listen for the song, those endless voices. But they were so far away.

One of the chits trembled atop the crate, but then stopped. "GGGGRRRAAAAAH!" she howled. "This is pointless! Your Jedi shit won't work, not for me, not for this." she gestured to the air. "It's not the same. I should have known. Thel said it was different."

He'd called it twisted... wrong. But he was an idiot and didn't know what he was talking about.

"You can't help me." she said, turning toward Forte, her hands on her hips. "Not... not like that." Her violet eyes lifted to meet his. She knew most of Lidah's people were wary of exposure to the spores. But not all of them had spurned the gift. Maybe Forte would accept it willingly. "If we could just..." she took a step toward him. "There's a connection, a bond. It's deeper than anything I've ever known." she paused, hands falling, hopeless to her sides. "Please..."

[Jazen]

"You can mock it and grumble about it all you want, but as much as its hard to believe, it does work."

Jazen couldn't blame her for being angry about how he was approaching it. When he had first been trained, the stuff he had been told had sounded like nonsense to him as well. But day after day he was told to do, trained to do it and slowly but surely, those lessons bore fruit. What he did now, casually moving things that she stressed herself over, was a result of that. It had become almost second nature to him and given time, depending on how long this battle with the Archeri lasted and Ylva remained capable of such things, she could too. Unfortunately, her frustration was one of the main reasons the Jedi only took on children at a very young age, before they were guided by their emotions, before they could control them. Her reaction was more then enough to show Jazen that it was a very good reason.

The Jedi were tools, he couldn't argue that, if she had said it aloud. Maybe not all of them but...

He said nothing in the wake of her anger, at her frustration. But where she was ranting at him, his eyes were staring at the chits. At the way they rumbled in the presence of her anger, the way the crate did. Hmmm. If Jazen had met Ylva as a Jedi, he would not see a possible answer. But having tasted both the light and the dark, and found somewhat of a balance, he was coming to the conclusion that Ylva might require a different approach. And if it worked, well...

His eyes snapped to her at her suggestion and although he mostly kept his face neutral, she could see in his expression that her words had struck a nerve in him. Realizing how that must have looked, he took a deep breath and sighed, shaking his head. "No. Not that way." He paused again, turning his head slightly to the crates, thinking. "I can't understand how it must feel, being a part of something like that. But...to me its not right. The way its being forced upon people. Maybe I can open up to you with the Force if this fails, but for now..."

He huffed and pointed to the crates again. "Let's try something and we'll see if it works, then we'll go from there. Forget what I said about clearing your mind. Your frustrated you can't move the crate, yet when Remy joked at you, you flung it at him easily. Perhaps the way to guiding you isn't in the way a Jedi teaches, but in the way a Sith does." He closed his eyes and the very aura around him changed for a moment as he lashed out at one of the crates. It flew with aggressive force and shattered along the back wall as Jazen brought himself under control.

"Use that anger. Your frustration at not being able to move them, at me, at whatever you like. And aim it all at the crates. I won't tell you to control it, not yet. But let's see if anger can do what calm could not, okay? Because if this works, then we may have found your way...and you might even be better at it then me." He stepped back but only enough to clear the area, just barely. And pondered her other request seriously.

[Meira]

Well that didn't work.

Ylva's arms went from dangling at her sides to crossed over her chest as Jazen explained his adjustments to what she should try. She did laugh then, heartily. "So, just the opposite of everything you just said?" she asked, though she knew the answer. Apparently, the options were monk-like self denial, or wild abandon at the whims of one's feelings. She was, at that moment, thankful that she had a better path before her. Though, frustrated as she was, Ylva did not miss the cool neutral response Forte gave to her invitation. It was not surprising, most who could already use the Force were wary of the gift. Hell, she would have been too if she'd known what it was when she first hit that inhaler. But it was impossible to understand the song before truly hearing it. Was it the fault of the Chorus that the ignorant chose to remain ignorant? Was the parent a monster for inoculating their child against terrible diseases because the child could not choose for himself? Of course not! It was stubborn pride that stayed the unwilling, and fear of the unknown. Forte might not know what awaited him in the song of all, but she was a living testament that it was right. Never mind good or evil; such childish concepts had not place where all were one.

Ylva reached out her arm toward one of the crates, her mind swimming with images of the men who gave everything they were to the Chorus and her heart aching to feel their voices again. From within the building, back where Remy tended to the partially attuned, she felt the crystal pulse. The crate flew across the courtyard and smashed against the opposite wall. The credits that had sat atop it hovered in the air and Ylva reached out her other hand, palm open. The credits floated nearer to her until they hovered over her hand. She closed her palm into a fist and the credits collided, warped, and fused until they were an uneven lump. She flung her hand to the side and the credit ball tossed over, landing on the ground at Forte's feet.

With the gesture complete, Ylva loosened her hold on that connection to the crystal. In doing so, she felt a strength pulled from her and her knees shook in its absence. She wavered, stepping unsteadily to one side, then the other. One arm reached out to steady herself and found Forte's shoulder. She some of her weight onto the man for balance and she breathed slow, her chest rising and falling.

"I didn't come by this like the Jedi, or the Sith." she said when she'd caught her breath. "You helped, but not in the way you think. What I'm connected to... you can't teach me about it if you don't know it yourself." Ylva released her grip on his shoulder and brought herself to her full height. "No one is forcing you, Forte. But I am asking you." Ylva reached into a pocket and produced an inhaler, similar to the one she'd first used on Nar Shaddaa. "This isn't about the Archeri, the Hutts, or even Lidah and the Exchange. Fuck all of that. I'm asking you."

[Jazen]

"Basically, yes." He said dead pan, not bothered in the slightest by her reaction. "Jedi and Sith are two sides of a coin. One, balance and harmony, the other, passion and rage. It sounds dumb and believe me, it is, but it works. Moving that crate? Its child's play really, for someone with the training in either. Besides...having sat on both sides of the coin, there are benefits and drawbacks to each one, believe me." It was not a debate she would likely win with him; Jazen had had his choices stripped away from him too many times. To him, the Archeri were just another force trying to take away the choices of others. And how was it fair that a mother might survive being infected, but her children reduced to dust or not infected at all? That the mother would abandon children she had fought and defended for so long over something like that? Families destroyed over what basically amounted to the roll of the dice. Jazen hated it. He hated that option being denied to people.

Whatever Ylva did next, the results spoke for themselves. The crate went smashing into a wall and with a crushing motion, she turned the credits into a warped useless ball that came soaring over to him. With a tick of his head, they stopped before the ground and floated up to his hand, a soft hum in his voice. Interesting; he hadn't sensed rage as much as...sadness and frustration when she moved the crate. And...something had tingled in the air when she had. Not the Force, per say but...he couldn't place his finger on it.

Whatever she had done had sapped her of strength, as he pocketed the credits and caught her as she was falling. Both arms braced her as she held onto his shoulder, studying the woman as she focused on balancing herself back to normal. What had drained her so and where did that burst suddenly come from? Questions, always questions...

"I wish you had. It would be much easier and I wouldn't have to worry about you." There it was, a hesitation when she asked him what she really needed from him, in order to better teach her, to help her. He stepped back as she stood up, power returning to her, the same power that drew his attention when he'd first walked on her ship. But the words escaping her were not of a ship's captain, but of the woman that she was. And it made Jazen shiver from head to toe inside. When she pulled out the inhaler, part of him honestly froze. His head tilted to look at something unseen in the distance, his voice but a whisper in kind. "You don't know...you don't know what it is to ask me that."

A roll of the dice. His mind of two worlds...the one that wanted to blast that inhaler into dust. The other at odds because he wanted to help her. 50 50, the chances. Death or complete submit, or somewhere in between like Io'an. In the end, desire of the dark and the urge to help of the light made his choice. "But you will...you will." He said with a sigh. And the inhaler floated from her hand to his and was used before she could even blink.

And the world exploded as he dropped to his knees. "Oh god...what have I done..." he said as the infection took hold.

[Meira]

"You don't know...you don't know what it is to ask me that."

"I know exactly what it is." she replied. The words came out quick and hard. Ylva had converted several dozen people. She'd watched some wither away into biomass. She'd cared for those who's bodies did not fully accept the gift. She'd reveled with those who were perfectly attuned to the song of all. And she'd brought mercy to the discordant. If anyone knew what it meant, it was her. He would see that soon enough.

From within the compound, Remy felt a shift in his companion's emotions, a surge in the power of the crystal they had brought with them. Curious, he laid the cool wet cloth he'd been preparing across the rounded forehead of one of their most recent charges and stood. He closed the door to the small sick room behind him and moved slowly down the corridor back to the courtyard door. Ylva was pushing herself again. Remy didn't understand why she insisted on trying so hard this far from the rest of the Chorus. She knew she would be stronger when they returned. And this mess with Forte was... well, it was just silly. If he converted, all well and good, but if he did not... would they be able to stop him? He arrived at the courtyard door in time to see Ylva pull the inhaler from a pocket. From where he stood, Remy could see Forte's back and Ylva's face. She watched the man intently as she presented him with the choice. Remy watched her. He could feel her anticipation, her excitement at capturing such a tempting prize for the Chorus. She kept it well controlled, but Remy could feel it. He'd known her for so long, her might not have even needed the bond.

The inhaler moved from her hand to Forte's and the Zabrak woman allowed herself a small smile. The hard part was over. Convincing force users to willingly give themselves up to the Chorus had, until this point, proved to be an impossible task. In a blink, he'd activated the inhaler and the spores entered his body. Over the next few hours he would...

Forte fell to his knees and Ylva's head tilted to the side, brows furrowed in confusion. He moaned out a lament. She looked up to Remy, gesturing to Forte with one hand while silently mouthing what the fuck? Remy, just as confused, shrugged his shoulders. That inhaler contained the same dose they'd been giving to any number of people since they'd gotten it. It wasn't laced with drugs like the first one Ylva had received. This far from the spire, and with such a small dose, he shouldn't be experiencing any overwhelming symptoms.

Ylva and Remy both cautiously stepped toward Forte. Ylva crouched down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Buck up, buttercup. You just jumped off the coin altogether." Remy snorted, but said nothing, ready to help move Forte to a more comfortable place if needed.

[Jazen]

Jazen had had no idea what to expect as he put that inhaler to his mouth and triggered it; the reports from the infected that weren't straight corrupted all the way said it sometimes took days, sometimes longer for the connection to take effect. But for Jazen, it wasn't days or weeks. It was /seconds/. The inhaler clattered along the ground in front of him as Jazen felt his entire world shifting on its axis. He had always been connected to the world via the Force before, so feeling the things around him wasn't entirely new.

But now he felt /beyond/ that. He felt Ylva in front of him, Remy nearby, others on the planet connected to the Chorus. He felt the distant pull of the Archeri's grand fleet and the crystal that Ylva had been tapping into. His mind reeled as it worked to process all this new information, a distant voice in his head telling him he'd made a horrible mistake. But it was soon buried by the Chorus and for a brief tiny moment before he let go, Jazen realized that he wasn't like Io'an. He wasn't going to be able to resist...he, like Ylva before him...belonged to the Chorus.

He felt Ylva's hand on his shoulder and with a deep breath, he collected himself. He felt...right. Right and wrong. A strange feeling really. He felt right with the Chorus, it felt right to be a part of it. But the Chorus couldn't take away his memories and he felt a deep sadness as well; a sadness about the way the Archeri were giving this gift to people. Why force them to accept this when it would have been so much better to allow them to take it himself, like he had? Would they even be warring with anyone if they had adopted that approach? Still, if this was the fastest way to end the fighting, to let people join this feeling, then like he had done before, he would do what needed to be done.

"I think the coin would have been more gentle." He said as he turned his expression on her. As part of the Chorus, nothing seemed to be hidden from other members, so Ylva would sense much from him now. His affection for her, his admiration of her determination and skill. And she would sense why he had been so reluctant,so against the methods of the Archeri. His old master, trying to turn him into his pawn, taking away his free will. Being tortured by the Sith, over and over, till he gave into his rage and almost murdered a man that was like a father to him. Not knowing who his parents were, only the Jedi way with his memories of his younger life gone, no other option given to him. The choice that left him outed by the Jedi, of having no control over his fate because someone else dictated it. Jazen valued free will very much and too many times, had almost had it stolen from him. His resistance to the Chorus earlier spoke a bit more now..but at the least, /he/ had made this choice himself.

"I'm fine. A little off balance, but fine. I take it this doesn't happen so quickly for everyone. Or so smoothly?" He asked as he rose to his feet, his senses sharper then ever before. Sharp enough to sense something...no...someone approaching. A lot of someones. "We have company coming. And from the aura coming off them, its not one that tells me their coming to ask for a cup of space fuel." He glanced to either of them, curious. "Piss off anyone lately?"

[Meira]

He didn't need the help up. That was a good sign. Ylva could feel Remy pushing a sense of calm and contentment into her mind. This one belongs, it said. She smiled, giving the younger man a hearty clap on the shoulder. She could feel the difference in the song now that Forte's voice had joined it, but unlike Remy, her connection to the song did not allow her the deeper insight into the minds of others. At least not in any way she understood or could control. When others pushed toward her in that connection, she could sense and receive it, but that was all. It seemed that, just like the speed at which one was consumed in the Chorus, how one displayed the power the eternal song granted was also individual. She was much stronger in telekinetic manipulation than Remy, for example. Indeed, that was the only aspect of the gift for which she felt she had any understanding. But it didn't matter. Soon, she would be transformed into a perfect being, one that felt no pain or sorrow.

"That doubt will fade." Remy said to Forte. "The old illusions of choice, of individuality; the song will show you how they were all a lie. When all are one, there is no exploitation. You'll be no one's pawn. Never again." He gripped Forte's shoulder as he said the words, his eyes focused on their new brother.

At Forte's warning of the approaching threat, Ylva looked to Remy who nodded in confirmation. She shrugged at Forte's question, muttering "Probably." as she turned toward the large door that led to the street. Closed and locked, it would provide solid enough cover. But as she pondered how they might entertain their unexpected guests, a sudden wave crested in the great song and crashed through her.

The force of it was enough to knock the breath from her in a sudden sigh and Ylva felt a hollow ache course through her, radiating out from the center of her chest. Immediately behind it, just as she was gasping in air to fill her lungs again, a new note rang through her veins. It burned sweet and clear, pulling an ecstatic "Oh!" from her lips. Teary eyed, she turned back toward the other two, her chest heaving now. Remy's eyes were wet with tears, his grin springing sudden and wide across his square features. Ylva laughed and reached out to him and to Forte, her hands grasping them by the napes and pulling them to her. Her chin touched at Forte's temple while Remy touched his forehead to her opposite cheek.

"You feel that!?" she exclaimed. The question, of course, was rhetorical.

"The Spire." Remy breathed.

"Go get the ship ready, Remy." Ylva said. Remy pressed his forehead against her harder for a moment and then rocked backward, rushing to comply. "Go deal with those men if you want." she said then to Forte, her hand squeezing his neck for a moment and then stepping back to hold him at arm's length. "But the Spire as brought another world into the song, and its past time we returned to do our part. We leave in thirty minutes." Flashing him a near-manic grin, Ylva turned to the compound, rushing inside to prepare.