Space

[Keenava Dira]

wrong alias ))

[Keenava Dira]

Lallu was a little glad for the warm reception, but to be completely honest, she wasn't expecting it. She had exiled herself from the Sith for so long, following the coattails of her master's legacy, that her own presence in the Sith was contested. Still, when the slug offered her a position at his side in the war to come she figured a path was better than no path.

 

She crept from her hiding place, took her hood down and unbound her lekku so they could get some air. Then she took her knives from her hands and holstered them at her hips, adjacent to a rather long leather whip, which was also at Lallu's hip.

 

She could see Emily out of her peripherals and wondered what she would do now that they weren't bound by the same tether. She kept a mental guard up just in case, but it was Sheog that held the bulk of her attention as the Twi'lek followed him into his ship.

 

______________________________________

 

 

It was a fairly quiet ride for Lallu, but the twi didn't mind. For all the down time she had, she took time to practice.

 

She would set up dummies in any open hold she could find and riddle them with knife holes, or slash them with the edges of her barbed whip.

 

She didn't really have too many people to talk to and although the people she was flying with were fellow Sith, she only really felt mild kinship to them. Still, the silence was fine. She didn't really like to talk.

[Keenava Dira]

Space…

 

The idea of silence felt so real, so solid, Lallu could almost feel it manifest like cold, slender fingers running across her scarred, black skin. Fingers that sang sensations down her spine with every caress and pulled at the strings of her heart until they were close to breaking. It was a symphony of ‘nothing,’ that wrote its harmony in the absence of everything and the flux of each musical movement resonated within her. She could feel the engines of the shuttle ignite and accelerate, but the sensations were hollow. The hypnotic sound of emptiness drew her in; the dark poetry of the void called out to her and reached to cradle her in its soft embrace; the solace of that moment, weighing more than any word ever could. It was intoxicating. She sat for hours, transfixed within that ebony cloud and fell into her mind; trapping it in thought.

 

In the past, it was hard to imagine spending her life in silence, but time solidified her need. It molded her into something else. Now Lallu couldn’t see life without the comfort of silence. She embraced it like a second skin. It consumed her thoughts and brought clarity to even the smallest sensation. But, like all things she knew, even silence was deceptive. The complete absence of sound was never truly without noise, and hidden deep within the black of her comfort, there was always pain. The ache she felt, surrounded by shadowed faces and lecherous intentions; the putrescence that hung deep in the bowels of her happiness. She was alone.

 

Taken from loving arms was a harshness that refused to scar. The wound festered and rot upon the peak of her consciousness and never left. The warmth of that affection never returned and without it, she had nothing to fill the gap it left. Futile twisted echoes of hope did what they could to bleed into the gap, but they led the Twi’lek into misguided illusions of happiness. Dreams of her past were hollow comforts and faded away with the morning. They were shadows that clung to the small happiness that Lallu could find in her cell and plagued her with distorted visions of unattainable euphoria. They teased her with illusions of grandeur and wrenched it all away with the beginning of each day. Like a flower lying delicately in its vase. One breeze would push the entire thing away without warning and without question…

 

Lallu’s mind spun for a moment as the lucidity of her eyes returned, finding the cockpit bare against the breadth of space. The shuttle was about to jump into light speed and was prepping for the transition. Soon the entire portrait of black would light up in streams of fluorescent blue.

 

Lallu saw the man’s form slide into the co-pilot’s chair and barely noticed a difference before she left the cockpit and started wandering towards the lavatory herself.

[Keenava Dira]

Lallu noticed the tonal difference in her companion's voice at the name mention and took the correction to mean that she pricked a nerve. It wasn't intentional, but something told her that that may come in handy later should the need arise. Names were valuable after all and to know someone's name lent a certain degree of control. Not much, but it was something of a footnote in Lallu's history so she had an idea what significance her own name held over her.

 

Memories were something of a weak point for Lallu too, or at least they used to be. The Twi'lek felt a bit airy now after her traumatic revelation and the sensation was a little disturbing. It was as if she was free falling and could not grasp a hold of anything. The enjoyment of emotional liberation was a little more than she could comfortably hold on to and she knew that the chaotic peace would lead to some fumbling if she didn't master herself quickly. If she was lucky, Vaegir would want to do most of the talking once they got on the planet. He seemed to be a little better at it anyway, even if he was stuck on a swamp planet for who knows how long.

 

She could feel her heart starting to flip when they finally passed the threshold into the shuttle bay although there wasn't really an appropriate stimulus for such a reaction. Her head began to swim when she saw that the Acolytes dropped off the things they needed. Without much trouble and without fainting she managed a soft sweep before walking into the shuttle proper. She worked her way through the ship and did a quick glance over everything, to make sure there wasn't anything wrong with the shuttle and to clear her nerves a little bit. Then when she was sure her head was on straight, Lallu began setting up the shuttle for launch. The cockpit format was a bit foreign, so she had to stall for a few minutes to understand it, but she grasped it eventually. Vaegir was settled into the shuttle when she finally managed to conclude the preparations and once she set the proper codes for their destination, she braced herself for the flight through the black holes and then the inevitable light speed jump.

 

Just as they were about to leave, Lallu remembered Vaegir's question and shook her head as if to clear the last dredge of thought from it. "Oh, Sorry Vaegir, almost forgot. The flight to Haruun Kal doesn't seem to be too long, but with these light speed jumps I don't really know how long it is to get anywhere."

 

((sorry for the brevity of the post, but I wanted to get us going. ))

[Keenava Dira]

Something was off. Keenava listened to the feeling of the room. The vents and rumbling of the exhaust systems were rattling as usual. That wasn’t it. Keenava sniffed at the air and adjusted her position to catch the disturbance, but nothing seemed to work. She unwrapped the sandwich in her hands, peeled back the mask from her face and bit into the fluffy bread. The crust-less frame gave way to a picture of sublime flavor and despite her composure, Keenava’s eyes widened with delight. Keenava had never had deli meat before. And the craft of the ingredients together reminded her of medium-rare ronto steaks. She devoured the sandwich in seconds and considered going for another, but decided against it. The odd feeling she felt before, intensified, and her lekku twitched a little under her hood.

 

Rumo’s usual optimism waned, considering something else. Keenava was a little vague on the why, but she could see that his bright expression was muted and she was starting to understand where her awkward feeling was coming from. His gesture of kindness took her off guard and she considered a flightier response, but she was in control of her impulses. His lips touched her hand without challenge and Keenava’s confusion grew.

 

Wasn’t this the man that dumped her out of a ship? Wasn’t this the man that spoke with the voice of Exodus? Why was he showing this much care? Did he truly care?

Whirling thoughts consumed Keenava’s head before she stood, surprising herself, and crossed to Rumo. She smiled under her mask and looked at the man. He fidgeted as she drew near and retreated a little, but Keenava brooked no contention. Her eyes found him and he stopped.

 

“Thank you,” Keenava said. It was a simple consolation, but something that she felt was appropriate. “I appreciate the sandwich and I appreciate what you have done. And, Exodus permitting, I will surely visit.”

 

Rumo smiled, although his face was a still a little pale from her closeness. He reached his hand up to brush hair out of his face and tried to bow, but caught himself before the gesture carried on too far. “It was no problem Lady Keenava. Now, I have been informed that you are to meet Exodus on Korriban. You may visit other places, briefly, but you must arrive on Korriban soon. Exodus will be waiting.”

 

…

 

…

 

And that was the last thing Keenava remembered before waking up in space.

 

The Twi’lek awoke, slightly groggy, in an unmarked cargo vessel that was bound for Coruscant. She couldn’t remember why she was on a vessel headed for Coruscant. But her bag was there, so it was a good place to start. She took a moment or two to check and see that everything was still where it should be and then found an empty seat nearby to plop down on. Exhaustion and weariness were still walking hand in hand with her and she needed to recoup before getting down to business.

 

She sighed as she sat and turned her head to look out a nearby viewport. And when she did, a small plate caught her eye. It was on a side table near the chair she sat on. The plate was covered in sandwiches.

 

_________________________

_________________________

 

A few days passed.

 

Keenava was somewhat satisfied with her work. She really wanted to get her piercings back and she wanted to find someone that could duplicate or improve upon her tattoo design, but she hadn’t gotten far. She narrowly avoided running into her sister when she retrieved her saber on Talus and put a rain check on their reunion until after she completed what Exodus wanted her to do. She grabbed her bag from the Last Call and saw that it was looking for someone to pledge for ownership. Keenava threw her hat in as a long-time employee and friend to Kheldar, but she figured that idea was a longshot.

 

Still, she felt she was as ready as she could be. She had her saber and all her things.

 

It was time to get to Korriban and check in.

[Keenava Dira]

The woman’s tone and demeanor suggested that she was talking about a night on the town. Her haughty posture hinted at an upbringing of entitlement and straight lace. Keenava’s nose wrinkled in cruel disdain and a small fire smoldered in the ruby of her eyes. “You WISH to learn the dark side of the Force?” Keenava said, handling every word as if it were covered in slime.

 

“What do you think this is, a pleasure cruise?” The Twi’lek was inches away from striking the woman but decided to save the strength in her hand. Her hostage might not listen. The gesture would be wasted. But, the Twi’lek did not raise her voice. She did not lose her temper. Keenava’s words were measured and intense. “I didn’t WANT to be a Sith. In fact, I hesitate to say that there are those that WANT to be a Sith when they start their journey. That isn’t accounting for the legitimately unstable few out there that accept blindly. There is always a reason that one becomes a Sith. And, once the Dark Side holds you, there is no going back. Once you mold yourself to be something you aren’t, you can’t go back. Every night is a nightmare. Every moment is chaos. The Dark Side calls and you answer or it haunts you until your dying day.”

 

Keenava fought the temptation to pace and resolved instead to stare. She resolved not to move and let her disdain simmer with the distance between them. “And, if you have the misfortune of becoming a killer, like me, every person is a target. Every room is broken into escape routes and every conversation is drawn to physical and mental weaknesses. You can’t form attachments because one day you might have to kill them. You draw pleasure from physical excellence and the feel of steel as it rents through flesh. If you WANT that, then why? WHY are you bringing yourself to murderers and thieves? We are the lost and forgotten who forged a path through the ash of our destroyed potential.”

 

Followed by the ghosts of her own happiness, Keenava emphatically pushed each syllable until her sentence stopped. Silence reigned in the ship that even the hum of the engines couldn’t pierce. It was a few moments before Keenava spoke again.

 

“If you can tell me why - If you can SHOW me why - then I will train you myself,” Keenava whispered.

[Keenava Dira]

Vivid ire hung like a thick murky cloud in the Twi’lek’s mind as drivel continued to pour from the woman’s crooked mouth. Before she could continue her petulant display, fingers of cold dread extended outward, clamping against the woman’s neck and slamming her to the hull of her ship. Her back clattered against the cold steel bulkhead in a raucous display of force. But the action was swift and decisive. Carefully, the Sith Lord extinguished her blade and replaced it at her hip. The spectral hand that clasped at Drilcea’s larynx left the woman just enough room to breathe but kept it tight enough to hurt, hanging her body inches from the deck plating.

 

“One - for your first lesson - NEVER yell at someone who is leveling a blade at you. That is a good way to die if you attempt to return to Korriban and seek different means to learn. Two, I get to do what I need to do to finish my duty. That is my prerogative. YOU, however, don’t get to claim entitlement to a power that escapes your comprehension; a power that I have bled to earn and build; a power that I've sacrificed everything to achieve. Do. You. Understand?” Keenava’s words were clipped and her tone was extremely severe, but she didn't raise her voice. Even when her anger reached a fever pitch, the Twi'lek was still; her words level and measured. The invisible fingers that dug into the woman’s skin trembled at every syllable, yet remained terribly strong.

 

When she resumed her ‘lecture,’ Keenava’s voice took a lethal edge. “What you don't seem to grasp, is that you are messing with something that will change your entire life. You are tainting the core of your soul. You cannot return from this. You will be forever scarred. The fact that I seem to be the only one who cares about your future should tell you something, Princess…" With a casual gesture, Keenava pulled her hood back, maintaining her grip on Drilcea and revealing the ebony black Twi'lek underneath. Hard ruby eyes glowed with fire as they stared at the woman, judging her.

 

“You are a naive fool. You claim to know. You push your power around like it means something to me; like all apprentices do. But power plays are stupid. In the end, there is always someone with more power. There will always be a bigger fish. And with every step to further your own power and ambition, there is a sacrifice. You let something of yourself go with every inch you crawl into the dark. This isn’t about your ship anymore. I was going to give it back. I may be an evil cuss, but I have my moments. No. This is about you making the biggest mistake of your life. This is not a choice to make lightly. I didn't have a second chance. So, I am giving you one.”

 

An all-consuming hunger emerged from the core of Keenava’s being, snuffing the fire of Drilcea’s anger like a candle in a hurricane. Terror, desire, rage, sorrow, hunger, and need, wove together. It was a terrible tapestry of power that welled to the fore of Keenava’s mind. Her fiery red eyes burst into actual crimson flame and her voice took on an ethereal duality that echoed off the metal of the ship.

 

“THIS is how it's going to work. If you submit to my teachings, my word is law. You know nothing. You have nothing except what you earn and what I give to you. If you betray me, the Dark Lord, or the Sith Empire, your life is forfeit. I will be harsh. Your training will be difficult and you will not enjoy it. I will never mark or draw blood from you unless it's appropriate. But that does not mean I will not punish you. By the end, you will be a blade in the dark. You will strike fear in the hearts of those that would oppose you. Or, if you wish to flee and find training with the Jedi or a simpler life in the Galaxy, you can take this ship from Nal Hutta and leave. I promise you, the likelihood of finding a genial Sith to train you in the art you describe is zero. My Master would have done worse for your impudence than I have.” The brilliant red fire faded as Keenava’s form drifted out of visibility, melding with the shadows around her. “That is your choice. I don't need a slave. I don't need dead weight. But if you will forsake everything for the Sith, then I will teach you.”

 

The spectral grip did not abate even as the Twi'lek faded into the shadows. Only the fury of her ruby eyes remained, smoldering with power, waiting to strike.

[Keenava Dira]

Good...

 

The grim vice that held Drilcea in place began to loosen. Keenava released the wild emotion she'd harnessed back into the ship as it shot through hyperspace. And the glow of her fiery crimson eyes dimmed until nought but smoldering rubies remained. A marble-white toothy smile heralded the Assassin's return. It was the first part to appear, and it preceded the rest of her body as the Twi’lek regained visibility.

 

Her smile was sharp; predatory.

 

“That is the first sensible thing I've heard you say.” The red of the Sith Lord's eyes, pierced through the thin veneer of thought that clouded Drilcea’s mind and documented her family drama for later use. Then, with casual grace, she bowed. “You shall call me Master. For to you, that is all I should be.”

 

With a nod, the force hold disappeared completely from Drilcea’s throat and Keenava walked off toward the cockpit to check on their progress. Just as she departed, however, a small shrill tweeting noise caught her ear nub and persisted until she brought the incessant device to her attention.

 

“Yes?” Keenava purred with lethal fervor into the small transmitter of her comm device

 

Vidaya Langarmie’s voice was a bright and pleasant alto; a balm to Keenava’s wearied mind.

 

<< There’s been a development. >>

 

Keenava’s brow furrowed slightly and she looked intently at the melting white lines of space as she stepped beside the captain's chair. “What is it?”

 

<< Dordjooba was spotted on Carida. >>

 

Keenava frowned. Carida meant the Imperial Remnant. And the Imperial Remnant meant certain death for a Sith. If this information was solid, she would need to proceed with caution.

 

“Is this a trustworthy source?” Keenava hedged, trying to find some hole in her lead. “Cause you said earlier…”

 

<< Yeah. I remember. But Farsha just called a little while ago. She's a facility maintenance worker in the Imperial HQ. She saw Dordjooba in the halls and confirmed it was him through some creative eavesdropping. >>

 

Urgency struck Keenava like a harsh blow with a blunt instrument. “Did you tell anyone I was or you were looking for him?”

 

<< Not specifically. I put the word out to my friends that I was looking for some information on Dordjooba; not why or for whom. >>

 

Keenava’s intensity backed off a few notches, but wary skepticism still hung to the vestiges of her doubt. “Whew. Alright… Well, it's the only solid lead I have. Thanks Vidaya.”

 

<< No problem >>

 

Keenava heard the click as her comm device went silent. She sighed deeply to the open air and hung her head a little lower, letting her lekku drape toward the floor.

Apprentice. Change of plans. We’re headed to somewhere outside the Carida System. Keenava said to Drilcea through the force.

 

The ebony Twi'lek pushed a few buttons on the navigation terminal and took the ship out of hyperspace. Then, grabbing on the yoke and turning the ship around, Keenava found the autopilot function - after a little trouble - and registered new coordinates in the ship’s computer.

 

This is going to be a bumpy ride.

Edited August 25, 2017 by Guest

[Keenava Dira]

I’m worried we’ll be crushed into this tiny ship like a Skazz Spit can. Keenava thought to herself while she untangled her lekku from a stray bit of wiring for the third time since coming on this ship.

 

"The accommodations could use work, but I’ve slept on worse."

 

Keenava assembled a crude resting space with some scrap and tested it by lying down briefly. She recoiled at the feeling of a bent, rusted piece of piping she was using for a pillow and adjusted it before returning to an upright seated position across from Leena.

"I don’t know if I have any force-related questions at present. Several poignant events in the galaxy happened while I was dead, so it might be prudent to catch up on that. I think I saw something about a moon crashing into Coruscant, the sacking of Naboo, and other notable parts of the galaxy erupting in turmoil. I also heard someone say the Sith were gone and that Nar Shaddaa was their last stand. Trodai’s presence at Falleen proves they aren’t gone completely, but knowing they are not dominant anymore is refreshing." Keenava rattled off with a matter-of-fact tone.

 

Keenava’s thoughts drifted to Exodus and his grand design. His utter disregard for Jedi mingled with his desire for the Sith to be the dominant power in the galaxy, would not have led to this, which likely meant that Exodus wasn’t part of the Sith leadership anymore. Whether through dying or fleeing—which for Exodus was unlikely—he was not around anymore. Who were the new Sith? Was Ailbasi still around? Was anyone she knew still around?

 

Okay, so she had questions. But these weren’t questions that Leena could answer. She wasn’t even sure she wanted anyone to answer them. Maybe Keenava was better off not knowing about the new Sith. After all, she was with the Jedi now. It was certainly an awkward feeling, but it was a good-awkward feeling.

 

“I wish to do something when we get to Ilum." Keenava gently pulled an inert lightsaber hilt from her pack. It had all its smaller components but lacked a color crystal and a crystal at its core. It pulsed with a myriad of lingering energies. The metal base had marks of corrosion and stains of rust and blood that ran the length of it. The cloth padding wrapped around its handle was dingy and worn. Altogether, the piece was plain and looked like a piece of tubing you’d find in a ship much like this. But the energy that pulsed within resonated with Keenava as she held it.

 

She set the hilt on the ground between them and nodded toward Leena as if giving her permission to touch it if she wished.

 

"I want to purify my hilt. I would make a new saber, but this weapon and its components are significant to me and my life."
 

The shackles, bound with titanium and durasteel, formed the metal of the hilt. Forged and melted with careful hands, the metals accented each other without muting the power inside the original material.

 

The shell of the hilt was molded—slightly curved—to fit the articulation of Lallu’s right hand.

 

The rags, woven with Kevlar and leather, formed the padded handle and were added to accent the curvature of Lallu’s palm and fingers.

 

The ruby and silver of her mother’s abdomen jewelry provided ornamentation that accented the bottom of the blade.

 

The electronics and crystals were last, comprising the arteries and veins of the structure.

 

The blade echoed the crimson of her eyes and the blood of vengeance in her heart. 

 

“This blade has done terrible things, but so have I. I could make a new blade and forget my past. But I have found more strength when I accept all of myself. I want to give this weapon a fresh start. I figured you could help. Then, after Ilum, I’d like to grab my ship and check on my sister. She’s capable of taking care of herself, so I’m not worried, but now that I have a second chance at being me, I want to reconnect with her.” Keenava’s voice was soft. She didn’t have any worries for her sister–that was true. But she missed her terribly. The last time Keenava saw Seela, she’d rescued her from the same slavers that had killed their mother almost two decades ago. She was ashamed of the demon inside her and couldn’t face Si Si. She showed her a safe house on Talus and left her to her own devices. It was a mercy. It was the only mercy she could give.

 

“Ultimately, I will go where you go and learn what I need to. But I wished to make my requests plain.”

 

Keenava’s amethyst eyes rested on Leena’s, and she smiled a little. “If you’re still looking for a question, I am curious about what you do for fun.”

[Keenava Dira]

(((Trigger Warning) TW: Trauma))

     Keenava felt a cold knife digging into her back and a familiar unease creep into her stomach. The tone that Leena used reminded her. Every word made her feel small. Keenava knew it was not the Grandmaster’s intent, but that didn't make it hurt less.

 

     Seeing an opening in the conversation, Keenava started up, though her tone was somber. "Thank you for telling me and catching me up. But I have something more to say before we get to Ilum."

 

     Keenava cleared her throat and raised her hands, open palms, to shoulder level. "Look, respectfully; the irony isn’t lost on me that I have at least eight years on you, Leena—and if you’re wondering how I know, I was an assassin. It used to be my job to study alien anatomy. Please don’t talk to me like I’m a fresh youngling coming to the Academy. We both know that isn’t the case. You’re my Master—correction, Grandmaster—and I will respect your wishes, but you need to understand that there are depths of the force that you have never seen. And hopefully, you never will."

 

     There was a weight to her voice. It only got heavier. The Twi’lek moved to sit on her knees and placed her hands atop them.

 

     "You speak of sacrifices and loss, but do you know what those words mean? I’m not trying to invalidate your past or your trauma. War is hell. Death is hell. Believe me. I’ve seen it. It’s terrible." The words sounded dismissive, but Keenava’s amethyst eyes filled with pain. She reached a gentle hand to Leena’s right shoulder and settled her fingers around its apex, feeling the cloth of her robe beneath her callused hand. She let her pain resonate between them without forcing it. She let the sorrow settle in the connection, not as a tumor but as a ballad. It was a fragile song that Keenava sang through her newly acquired connection with the force.

 

     "Has anyone ever taken something from you on such a profound level that you didn’t feel like you anymore? Have you ever suffered something so deep that you detached? Do you know what happens after an experience like that? No one talks about it. No one talks about how you’re afraid to wake up because your body isn’t yours. No one talks about the dissociation that sets in when you can’t feel anything anymore—the long, restless nights of staring at the endless void and speculating about your existence. Fear becomes an easy respite because no one can protect you when nothing is safe. Everyone looks like a predator. Every corner looks like a trap."

 

     Keenava took a measured breath and removed her hand from Leena’s shoulder. Her eyes were still misty, but she carried on. "When I was at my lowest point, someone promised me that I could regain control, feel something again, and desperation is all that remains after so long. Hunger, thirst, smell, taste, touch—they're all gone. All that remains is a torrentially deep desire for control, love, something, anything."

 

     "The Jedi say not to build attachments, but one of the most visceral attachments we as biological beings have is with our own body." Keenava’s right hand moved over her heart. There was a warmth there that she wasn’t used to.

 

     "People talk about hedonism like that’s all the Sith are. And sure, some Sith enjoy hedonistic revelry. But a lot of Sith are just broken. They can’t look for help because looking for help means admitting to themselves that they’re lost. Looking for help means finding people who want to ‘cure’ them by denying their trauma and ignoring their pain. The Dark Side is easy because it's easy to take what you want when everything in your life has gone to—pardon my language—druk.

 

     "And, instead of helping, the Dark Side draws you further. Panicked, treading water at the surface of a dingy mire, a dark hand promises redemption. But it doesn't give you what you seek. It pulls you further and further down until your lungs give out. You have no choice but to drift into darkness, gasping and grasping for whatever you can.

 

     "The Dark Side takes. It takes and takes and takes and takes AND TAKES until you have nothing left. The Sith masters you fight have lost everything that made them who they used to be. They are not the indigent, suffering children of generations past. They made a deal with death for power and control and lost more than they thought they would."

 

     Both Keenava’s hands went to the crude metal hull of the ship, and her knuckles curled white as she remembered, but they gradually resumed their resting position as she let her feelings out.

 

     "This purification was a boon. It was a buoy to keep me afloat. But I still remember everything. I still have scars. They aren’t going to go away. I saw their faces again on that dust ball, walking through the wastes; the faces of everyone who abused me; the faces of everyone who abused my cell mates; the faces of everyone I killed; the faces of everyone I saw die; Furion’s face; Jzora’s face; Exodus’ face; my mother’s face; my father's face. I was lost, trudging through the sand. And…” 

 

     “You saved me."

 

     Bright tears glistened on her face as Keenava looked deeply into Leena’s eyes. "I don’t think you understand what you did. It may not have seemed like much to you. But for me, it was everything. It would have ended there. I was ready to end it. I was given back my soul, only to realize how much of a monster I was. I hated myself and was ready to let go. But you didn’t let me go. You showed me another way, and the Jedi taught me to love myself again."

 

     Her ballad swelled to a serene melody, bolstered by a sweet and gentle sound.

 

     "I can’t tell you I will never be hurt. I can’t tell you that everything will just go away one day. But I can and will promise you this, here and now. Nothing in this galaxy is strong enough to convince me to return to the dark side. Even were the Spider King Exodus to come and threaten to kill everyone I love and wrench the air from my lungs, I would remain steadfast against the dark side. I have no love for it and no love lost over it. I can promise you nothing will corrupt me ever again."

 

     Her song concluded with a weak smile. Keenava’s expression was a little shaky due to the tears that fell from her eyes, but her eyes—her resolve—were steel.

 

     "As far as a prized possession? My saber is not that important. It is sentimental. I would love for it to be purified because I’ve already bonded to it, and it does mean something to me, but if that doesn’t work, I will build another one or two. I haven’t decided yet. And the ship—" Keenava paused, leaned closer, and lowered her voice, "I don’t know if you’ve seen this rust bucket we’re in, but it’s seen better days. The ship was a gift, and it’s just sitting on Ylesia gathering dust; it’d be a waste not to use it."

 

     Keenava took a deep breath and steadied herself back on her knees. "Then there’s Seela, my sister. We haven’t been close for years. It’s not because we don’t get along; I haven’t seen her. The last time I was with her, I was ashamed of who I was. I wasn’t willing to look at her because I didn’t want to drag her into my life. I didn’t want her to see my ruby eyes. They weren’t my eyes. They were his. Seeing her is not about me regaining a lost attachment. Seela and I accepted decades ago that we might never see each other again. There will be a hole if she dies, but I know better than to let that consume me. If I could connect with her, hug her, and tell her what I’m fighting for, we could die without regrets. I’m not saying that because I expect death. I’m saying that because death happens when we least expect it. Grandmaster Leena, I’m going to see her so I can release my attachment, not secure it. And I am more than willing to wait."

 

     Keenava took another deep breath and used the back of her right hand to wipe some tears from her face. She chuckled a little when she remembered Leena’s admission and a mischievous smile spread across her face.

 

     "Now that all that’s out in the open, are you up for a game of sabacc?" The hand she used to rub the tears from her eyes flipped, and a deck of cards appeared, seemingly out of thin air.

Edited June 21, 2023 by Keenava Dira

[Keenava Dira]

A few hours passed as the two played Sabaac, leaving Keenava to wonder how much her admission missed its mark. Leena seemed to shy away from it, and the Twi’lek worried a little if she overshared. It wasn’t something she was used to. Healthy exploration of emotions wasn’t something explored in the Sith and the Jedi hated expressing emotions so it complicated matters when Keenava was trying to take a step to becoming more mentally and emotionally healthy. 

 

She’s not your therapist you goofy twin-tails

 

The ebony Twi sighed imperceptibly as she won another hand. Leena was incredibly bad at lying and though she showed a lot of skill in the more mechanical aspects of the game, the little guppy had a tell that the former assassin could pick off almost instantly. It meant some questionable calls, but Keenava won almost every hand. The grandmaster had picked up on what the former Sith was doing after hand number five and attempted to bluff her tell and shift into something different. Keenava was admittedly surprised, but caught the change in stride, winning that hand as well. The Mon Cal let out an audible groan and was going to shuffle up another hand when her comm chimed. 

 

“I told you, Leena, I’m really good at reading people,” Keenava said, suppressing the urge to express the pride she felt in her skills, especially since said skills were earned through pretty morbid research; she did some less morbid research too, but the first-hand experience was always more effective.

 

Leena’s face sank and she indicated that they would have to put their plans on hold. Urgent matters called her back to Ylesia so she rose and asked their ragtag band of rodent traveling companions to change course. 

 

There was some back and forth, but eventually, they agreed and they were off again. 

 

Life has a way of pushing me in different paths, doesn’t it?

 

Keenava thought to herself with a wry chuckle as she lay back on her makeshift bed and attempted to rest. 

 

<< Changing course. Next post on Ylesia >>

Edited July 30, 2023 by Keenava Dira