Coming to Terms [Kella, WWFF, open]

[Mara]

(((If someone else wishes to join, see here first, for more information)))



[... from Dark Tomb of Ice]


Xierra Zalq, Falleen Jedi Knight walked haltingly through the jungles of Gargon, her heavy brown cloak not bothering her reptilian blood in the hot tropical air. She had arrived about an hour prior from Taris where the Blades had retreated to after the battle of Rhen Var. The disaster that had been Rhen Var. The results of which was part of her reasoning for wanting to get off of Taris for a day or two; she needed to be alone with her thoughts. Yes, there had been ample time to think and meditate back in her quarters on Taris with the other Blades, but there were just too many distractions. And her thoughts kept getting in the way of her normal routines and Blades meetings.

So she had requested a small shuttle to take over to Gargon which was close by (in the universe scale of things). Xierra wasn't much of a pilot, but she could handle a straight-forward trip like that, especially with help from the autopilot. The small transport had set down in a clearing where she had locked it up after departing, only taking with her what she was wearing--Jedi clothing and robes, boots, her lightsaber, fighting rods. Though she was coming to dwell in the jungle to get in tune with herself, she didn't know all that much more about the planet than the ship's computer link to the Jedi Archives had and wanted to be prepared for anything. Remembering her master's passing with a small pit tightening in her stomach.

Rhen Var had not gone smoothly, to say the least. Besides the operation as a whole, what the Blades as a group had accomplished (or not accomplished), she felt some personal losses as well. Everything had started out all right. Ironically she had been on this same planet when the call had come through from Master Took, the self-proclaimed leader of the Blades, a group of Jedi that had formed in response to the Republic and Council's lack of response to the coming war. They still held to the Code, but dealt in results, not negotiations. She and other Blades in the area, along with her padawan, had mobilized with Took in order to help out forces already battling down on Rhen Var. Xierra and the others were supposed to be the relief, the ones saving the day. As she thought back to that idealistic feeling, she coughed out a harsh laugh, batting back a tree branch as she continued through the jungle, making her own path.

If only the battle had actually gone that way. It seemed that almost immediately after she and the other Blades who had gone with her to the surface arrived, everything had gone to hell. Not only had her padawan disobeyed her and stayed on the surface instead of returning with the shuttle to space, but the ensuing battle between Jedi and Sith troopers had erupted and went unmovingly into a stalemate, no side gaining much ground on the other. The only results being dead soldiers and Jedi. Xierra had fought on, though, hoping for some breakthrough, some way for the Jedi to be able to power through and retake the Temple entrance they were fighting near.

But then, it had got even worse. Out of the corner of her senses, as her blade flashed around, deflecting bolts into the enemy, no longer caring about sending them harmlessly into the snow, as furious as the fray was, Xierra had noticed her padawan. And two Jedi nearby him, fighting what appeared to be a Sith. A real Sith, and not these Force-empty soldier drones she was fighting against at the same time. There had been no opportunity for her to think about what had brought the situation to be; she could only fight on, hoping the two Jedi would save Zorn. The next time she looked, though, they were dead, and the Sith and her padawan were nowhere to be found.

Feeling a sense of duty to the young Zabrak, Xierra had deserted the battle to go looking for him, only not being able to find him. She had run into the Sith, however, and battled him, wanting to punish him for what happened to her padawan. And even if he wasn't responsible, that maybe Zorn had escaped (she hadn't found a body), he was still Sith and deserved her battled strikes. Eventually she had been able to turn to the battle, knowing that that was where she belonged, her heart heavy with wonderings of where her padawan had disappeared to. A body, even a lifeless one, would be more closure than nothing at all.

The battle in front of the Temple had raged on, with her and the other Jedi and Republic soldiers against the Sith-owned soldiers. She had just mindlessly fought on, her mind still on Zorn and the encounter with the Sith, a bit of anger leaking in to her fighting. Parallel to the anger she had demonstrated as child, rage that her master had tamed. So distracted was she that she didn't realize until returning to Taris hours and hours later that she had small blaster burns on her arms. Nothing that a bit of kolto wouldn't fix, but something she should have noticed if she had but focused on what was important and current, not on what was lost.

She had gone through the motions back on Taris, not knowing what to do with herself, blaming herself for what had happened to her padawan. Xierra had been his responsibility, and now he was gone, in hiding, taken by the Sith, or worse. The Falleen hadn't felt this low since watching her master die before her eyes while she was yet still a padawan. She tried to meditate, hoping Master Revisc would come to her with advice, but to no avail. Xierra hadn't yet the heart to contact the Council or even Master Took of the Blades with what further steps she should take--replace her padawan, go looking for Zorn, or perhaps just never teach again.

And on top of all the mess that was her missing padawan, Xierra had to deal with the fact that, despite prior knowledge because of joining the Blades, she had killed back on Rhen Var. And it hadn't exactly been in self-defense. Yes, it had been in war, but still, she couldn't get over the fact that she had taken a life, lives, during the battle. She had tried to only wound, having taken to heart her master's teachings, but after a while it just hadn't been possible. Especially after she let her feelings about her padawan guide her blade. No longer had Xierra been standing back, deflecting bolts, but going closer and engaging the enemy, blade to gun, and winning.

Now she didn't know what to think anymore, and that's why she had wanted to get away from all the commotion on Taris and return to Gargon. The jungle planet was full of the Force, and she hoped that communing with it, meditating, she would find some answers. And perhaps her old master would visit her again with some needed wisdom. Until an epiphany dropped on her like a brick, though, she would continue on, wondering if she was losing herself, going to the darkness, letting the anger return. And scared of what the consequences might be.



(((I'm not sure how you guys want to enter...)))

[WWFF]

(Sorry for the long, long, long...long wait. But here's something.

Gabriel’s heart raced as his body plowed through the thick mess of vines and giant leaves. What he was running toward was a mystery, though less of a mystery was what chased him. A moment after he plowed through a mass of overgrowth a boulder followed, soaring over head and slamming into a tree meters away. This boulder was followed by a frighteningly angry female rancor. Apparently rancor were incredibly territorial, even more so when young are involved. It was his own fault, he thought the kill deserted and didn’t think to wait and see. A foolish mistake normally not made, though that was the reason he was here in the first place, to get his mind back.

He vaulted over a trunk laying over what was no doubt an over flow wash for the nearby river. He could feel the rancor thundering behind him, and heard the same trunk splinter crack as the rancor crushed it under foot. If he had more time he would have attempted to climb a tree and hide for a while, and even he wasn’t brave or cruel enough to face an angry mother rancor for no reason. To his surprise he was incredibly calm for the situation, at least not afraid, more alert maybe. That’s what three days in a jungle will do, though.

As he jutted left and off his initial course he couldn’t help a chuckle through his heavy breathing. His mind began sliding backward through the events of the past few weeks.

After Rhen Var he had been collected and taken to Taris for emergency medical treatment. His battle with the Sith Di’Shan had left its mark; hen Master Took had arrived with some reinforcements Gabriel was in too much pain to even notice anyone near him at all. It was nearly an hour after the battle had subsided and the Jedi had retreated, before the paralyzing pain began to lessen and he was finally able to pass out. He wasn’t sure whether it had been the massive about of sedative he had been administered which had helped, or whether it was the physical exhaustion from squirming for hours in uncontrollable pain which had finally won out; either way it was welcome. It was interesting, even thinking back on the pain, his mind wouldn’t let him remember exactly what it was like.

It took days before his nervous system was firing correctly again, even kolto caused him pain, his saber wound had to b treated without the use of the healing liquid. For the longest time any slight stimuli felt like needles under his nails. The simple functions like breathing caused him to freeze in pain; even the IVs plugged into him felt less like irritating nettle pinches and more like nails. It was a rough few days, but the pain finally subsided. Several more days were spent sleeping. Eventually however he did make it out of the medical ward on Taris; making haste to a comm. system where he could contact his master to assure her that he was fine -- or alive anyway. She had heard of the essential massacre on Rhan Var and had been told that Gabriel was in and out of consciousness.

That next week wasn’t easy. He tried to meditate in the small quarters he was given, to no avail. Everything he started to relax, one or several images from Di’Shan’s visions would pass through his mind, shaking him from his peace. It began to frustrate him, so much so that his temperament and mood were being affected; even sleep was a chore. He decided to take the next transport back to Coruscant to see if he could find some council there from his master, though when he sent the comm. she had been sent on a mission with her new Padawan – a strange feeling in itself. While he wasn’t able to go to her, she was able to give him council. She told him on the jungle work of Gargon, not too far from Taris, and suggested he go and “find solace in the force there”.

As much as he didn’t want to, it seemed like a decent idea, and couldn’t hurt to try; what could go wrong. He did question his judgment on that last part, especially at the moment. A blast of force energy blew a wide hole through a thick mass of vine and branches, quickly following through. He was slowing, his stamina was at its limit, he’d been running forever it felt like, how far could this rancor’s territory span... did they have territory?

His foot caught on an unearthed root and sent him sprawling into a sunny jungle glade. He tucked and rolled allowing his momentum to carry him to a safe fall. He used his hand to push himself back up as his feet came into contact with the ground. His attempt to regain his run was stumped as he stumbled and tripped once more into a slide flat on his front. He could hear the sound of the rancor emerge from the over growth behind him, though the rancor’s steady run had slowed to a walk and then stopped completely. It was replaced by a similar sounding movement, though not from behind him, but rather his right.

He breathed heavily as he looked up to see a second rancor to his right. He coughed and rested his forehead on the grassy ground, taking a deep breath of the damp earth. He could hardly believe he was about to be torn apart for one stupid move. Any chance of fighting off the first rancor was long gone; he had neither the stamina to fight, nor the ground. A shake of his head was all that he allowed himself before gathering his feet beneath himself and standing. He swallowed and cleared his throat, reaching to his sabers on the back of either hip. The soft buzz and bright orange of his saber flaring to life filled the space around him, slowly his eyes drifted from the ground up to the rancor on his right which seemed to pay him little heed. Gabriel’s brow wrinkled as he looked at the creature as it turned to face him. For a moment he thought it might charge too, but instead a loud guttural roar erupted from its throat.

Realization hit as the roar was met by another from the rancor which had been chasing him; he found the end of one territory, and stumbled into another. This time however it seemed he wasn’t the threatening intruder. His sabers fizzled back into their hilts as he began cautiously backing himself away from the closing rancor and toward another area of over growth. Without looking back, Gabriel turned and shoot back into the jungle, the sounds of feral rancor battling behind him.

He didn’t know how far he’d run when he finally stopped to sit on a broken tree trunk. He figured it was a fair distance; far enough to have lost the victor of that battle if there was indeed a victor to be had. He shook his head as he allowed oxygen to fill his burning lungs. His legs throbbed, and his ankle ached from the spill he’d taken back in the glade. Apparently he’d hit his head and he felt the sting of sweat. He reached up to dab at the welted scrape with the back of his right hand; a small pattern of blood showing itself on the mostly clean had wraps he wore.

Slowly his air was returning to him. ‘Great idea...’ He murmured to himself. ‘Oh yeah, “go to Gargon -- get in touch with the force, Gabe”. Brilliant master... simply a brilliant idea.’ He shook his head, knowing full well it was no one’s fault but his own. He was unprepared for anything on this planet; even his clothing was ridiculous. Full robes? Who in their right mind would wear a sleeved robe into the jungle – and forget about the cloak, he’d lost it the second day in the jungle.

A slight smile curled in the corner of his lips as he began thinking back on what his face must have looked like when that baby rancor popped its head from behind that corpse. Not that he thought the scenario was funny; what with not having sensed the rancor in the first place – but the look must have been hysterical. Pure surprise. The smile grew as he continued thinking about the surprise on the baby’s face; his body began to pulsate as a chuckle grew to a full heart-filled laugh. The laugh roared from his chest. He figured after cheating death, it was only healthy to laugh about it.

He rose to his feet as his laughter died. His eyes drifted up to the thick canopy, the sun barely made it through enough to give s slight green tinge to everything. He had no real grasp of direction, he’d lost when he started running from the rancor; though his did have a handy tracker put in his ship, so if nothing else he could find that. He had no idea what he was looking for; the “living force”? A grasp on reality? Could it be as metaphorical as finding himself? He didn’t know, but what ever it was, he hadn’t found it yet, and his stubborn nature tol dhim he wouldn’t be leaving until he found what had actually brought him here.

He shook his head thinking back on his conversation with Master Xen as he started walking again. She’d been so confident he’d find something here to help him. She had a firm grip on the lightside of force, something Gabriel had felt so sure he too had; though his assuredness had been shaken since Di’Shan. A shot of pain slid up from the healed saber wound on his side. It was a nice scar -- a reminder.

Gabriel forced himself to stop thinking about that; telling himself to just allow the force to guide him through the jungle. The day began wearing on, though little did he know just how close to an answer to the question which kept repeating in his head. ‘What good is it being here?’[/i]

[Kella]

It was the day after the battle. Eckerin was asleep -- dead to the world -- and Sellah wished to follow him. But she could not sleep.

The holocell rang. She longed to hear the familiar voice...

"Sellah? Sellah is that you?"

She signed in utter relief. "Yes, Master." She suddenly realized she didn't know what to say.

"Trillian, I..."

"You were doing what you believed was right."

And he sounded as if he approved.

~~~

Sellah had had no qualms since then. Uncertainties, yes, but about the future, not the past.

Something had been bothering her more, though. Days had passed, but she was still sore. She'd pushed her body to the very edge of its capabilities, utterly exhausting every reserve of power. But it was worth it. She'd taken down her share of Sith, and Ekerin was unscathed, except for a few scratches.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and Sellah knew that every muscle's aching protest meant that when the muscle repaired, it would be even stronger than it had been before.

Water rushed across her fur, rinsing away the sweat. Where her fur was thin or burned away, courtesy of Sith's blades, the water could touch her skin, and its coolness soothed the injured flesh.

She'd refused medical attention. Her injuries were painful, but they'd heal just fine on their own, and there was no reason for her to take time and energy away from the people who truly needed it.

That was why she was here, on Gargon. The nurse had insisted. If Sellah was not going to accept healing, then she was going to take the day to stretch out and relax, and facilitate her body's natural healing.

A few of the other Jedi had also come to Gargon, for similar reasons, and there were regular shuttles between the planet and Taris. It was only for a day, and Sellah knew that Grek would keep Ekerin safe. It was a chance to let her guard down, to not have to worry about finding a way to explain things to Eckerin.

Sellah looked up. The sun sparkled on the surface of the water, and the stalks of water plants wavered and wove.

She swished her tail, pushing herself towards the shallow. She gently broke into the air, water sliding off her fur. Her lungs sighed empty, and she drew in another breath, preparing to sink again. However, familiar scents gave her pause.

They hadn't been there five minutes ago, when she'd dived. The wind must have shifted. Two of the Jedi, ones she'd fought along side in Rhen Var... A Falleen (Falleens had very distinct scents), and a human or near human. Female and male, respectively. More concerning, however, was the smell of rancor sweat.

An agitated rancor was rarely a good sign. Sellah returned to the water and quickly swam across the stream, emerging on the opposite bank. She dropped to all-fours, trotting quickly forward and leaving a trail of water behind.

The brisk air wicked the water, cooling her skin. But she could not enjoy this, because the scent of rancor still mingled with the Jedi.

The rancor scent faded to the background once more, and the Jedi became brighter. She drew into a clearing, realizing the scent trails were distinct; one to her left, and one to her right. But, like zooming in on a photograph, she could better perceive the detail of the scents now.

Sellah closed her eyes, focusing. She knew their names... All the Blades had mingled with each other, and she'd made it a point to learn the name of each. She imagined herself, back on the ship, before Rhen Var. It was difficult, but she focused. It was like drawing together an investigation, or remembering the start of a trail -- two things she was very good at.

"Xierra?" She called, in the one direction. "Gabriel?" in the other. She moved closer to the center of the clearing, sniffing the air. There could still be danger close...

[Mara]

She weaved her way through the jungle growth, not really sure where she was going. Xierra's original purpose for coming to Gargon had been to commune with the large mass of life on the planet, hoping to mediate on the recent events of Rhen Var. Perhaps even gaining some well-hidden and old insight from her former master. But at the moment she kept walking, fighting past branches and large fern-like planets, no longer sure how far from her shuttle she was, or even really caring. Despite the heat of the air and her clothing, she shivered, and pulled up the hood of her cloak.

Skirting around a particular dense grouping of plants, she stopped in her tracks. What was she doing? She would accomplish nothing just wandering aimlessly through the jungle. The Falleen knew she had planned on finding a quiet spot to go meditate, in the middle of all the life of the jungle. But right now she was avoiding that. Xierra didn't think she was afraid of any truth that she might discover during meditation. Perhaps... no. A horrible thought had passed through her mind, the thought that subconsciously she wanted to hurtle through the jungle, hoping for some large creature to come and attack her. And to what end? To show her anger in slaying it? Or... or letting it slay her and end her misery? Clearly she needed the meditation more than anything now.

Xierra shook her head, clearing her thoughts and refocusing her eyes on what was ahead of her. She heard, and smelled, water. Her black-hued gaze pinpointed a small clearing up ahead about two klicks near a rocky outcropping with a small waterfall. Thinking it would be more of an ideal place to settle than anywhere else nearby, she headed in that direction. If anything, she would be able to see, and sense, danger coming from there.

An hour later she was seated cross-legged, eyes closed, at the base of the small pond formed by the cascading water. The sounds of the falling water calmed her as did tuning herself to the Force and all of the surrounding life around her. Gradually her breathing slowed as well as her heart rate. Xierra turned her gaze inward, hoping for anything, any sign, any knowledge. The Jedi didn't go looking for it, just opened up herself in readiness for anything that might drop in. She had had experience in this before; things always came to her when she wasn't trying, when she least expected it. Sometimes an idea, sometimes a teaching of her master. A couple times she would have even sworn she saw her master standing before her, though he was dead now over a year.

Time passed quickly and yet also slowly for the Falleen. She was deep in meditation, her vitals so calm that they were almost not functioning. Xierra had no idea how much time had passed when he came to her, not taking time to glance at her chrono, nor caring how long she was there. Time had ceased for her while in meditation. He was there in her mind's eye, as clear as if he were standing before her during one of their training sessions of years past. Master Revisc, her human master.

Emotions swirled around her, and she wished to call out to him, but also not wanting to ruin the moment. She sat, waiting. If he had something to tell her, he would do so in due time. And most likely in some sort of riddle or puzzle. The man seemed to be staring past her, off into the jungle for a while. Most likely determining the right words to say to her. Then he turned his sad but caring gaze on her, his former student.

"Xierra, don't be so hard on yourself. It wasn't your fault." At first she wasn't sure if she was actually hearing him or just imagining what she wanted to hear. But it was in his voice, and she had had visions of her master before and was inclined to believe there was something deeper behind the word than her only wishful thinking. She remained quiet, hoping he would go on. Her master had usually been a man of few words, only speaking what was necessary. Still, she waited.

"In times of war, things like this happen. All the time. And yet, I'm disappointed in you at the same time. Have you forgotten everything I've taught you?" The vision paused and sighed deeply. "If you should stumble--"

It was at that moment that a loud sound broke the silence, snapping her master's words as the vision disappeared, her meditation broken. She tried her hardest to recapture the moment, trying to find her master in her mind, asking, pleading with him to finish what he had to say, forgetting his chastising for the moment. What she must do if she stumbled. Xierra couldn't remember the teaching, though the words were familiar. She needed to know! Perhaps they would help her.

But for now though, there was something more immediate that she needed to worry about. The roaring sound came again, sounding hauntingly like that of a rancor. And despite not much time spent with them, at all, Xierra did know that that sound was not a happy and contented sound. She stood, spinning in a circle to see if the rancor was nearby. Then she looked with the Force, slogging through the densely grouped life forces for that of the angry rancor. But she couldn't feel it; perhaps it was just too much clogging up her senses, or lingering distraction from the broken meditation.

Taking lightsaber in hand, she made her way out of the clearing, leaving behind the waterfall and its soothing tones. She hadn't sensed any danger behind the rancor's roar, though it was clearly anger. Perhaps it was only defending a nest. Or maybe it was a friendly greeting to its mate; what she did know? Clearly she needed to spend more time in the Jedi Library going over the archives of planetary fauna. This was a time when she would prefer a few datacards over first-hand experiences. There was a reason someone named the rancor 'rancor.'

Something made her pause in her movements. She cocked her head, but heard no more. It had sounded like someone had called her name, a female voice, not her master. Why she thought it could have been him, Xierra felt it was just empty hoping. He had abandoned her once again, to figure things out on her own. Though a Knight, she still felt helpless and lost sometimes. But someone else was here in the jungle. A being who knew her name. Still keeping her weapon in her clawed fingers but now lowering it to her side, she headed in that direction. Wary of what might be lurking beyond, calling to her. And hoping it was not another mirage. And someone friendly.

Flowing into a slow jog, she moved through the undergrowth, a twig cracking here and there, not caring whether or not her movements could be heard through the swishing of the plants. Xierra preferred not to sneak up on whomever was out there. Just in case. As she went, she kept listening but heard no further calls. Her curiosity was starting to get the best of her, and her thoughts ran rampant as to who else could be here. Who would know her name.

The most obvious, of course, would be another of the Blades. Then she wondered, had she been followed, and for what reason? Or merely had she chosen the same retreat as another Jedi? The hood of her cloak caught on a low branch, taking it from her head and leaving her black hair blowing in the breeze she was creating as she forged ahead. The how and why and who would soon no longer matter. Soon, she would find out who it was beyond, and why they were here. Xierra could sense another being up ahead, a louder beacon in the Force than the normal floral and fauna of Gargon. A somewhat familiar presence that eluded her mind with a name.

As the presence grew clearer, she slowed down to a walk. Using the Force to determine exactly which direction to turn in. Though bright in the Force, all the lifeforms around her made it slightly blurry at times. But still, she kept on, all of her senses alert. All would be revealed to her in a few more minutes.