Morning was hard to guage on a spaceport, but Remy had lived here for long enough to know that is what it was. Restaurants were switching from graveyard bar menus to breakfast, ships began coming and going more quickly, and most of the buisinesses that had been closed for the night began flipping signs around or on, depending on what they could afford.
Remy and Rue were on the move too. The latter had passage on a shuttle leaving early, and the former had offered to accompany him back to Selen. No doubt Esen would have as well, but after last night she was all but dead to the world, and neither of them could bring themselves to shake her awake for a trip across the system.
“It’s inconvenient that the shuttle pilot decided to dock this far upstairs,” Remy said just loud enough to be heard over the increasing sounds of bustle, “but nonetheless it seems we got here before takeoff. Last check, did you remember everything? It’s not the longest flight, but it’s still a trip if you forgot something of Alks.”
“This one is certain it did not forget anything of Alk’s,” Rue insisted softly. While Remy spoke in a volume cognizant of privacy and societal politeness while being modulated for optimal clarity, Rue’s softness was a thing of deeper quietude, of one whose voice had been long, long beaten and shaped into silence. In their differences of upbringing were a few fortunate things that allowed Remy to better transfer; while speaking out of turn had never been part of her performance either, the bellow and cant of a soldier chanting orders was given to greater flexibility in assertiveness and leveling. “It made very sure.”
And Rue had; he had quietly abandoned some of his things in the communal refreshers’ trash bin so that he could fit more of the things Esen had gotten for Alk in his bag. Alk himself trotted alongside them with only a small amount of grumpiness for the hour. He had been cramped aboard the ship, and he seemed happier with every trotting step towards their shuttle.
“This one has enjoyed the walk, though.” Even though the hybrid was panting lightly from the “upstairs” journey, taken briskly, so as to not be late. “It was… different. Seeing the Oval this time. The first time I was much…fresher. And much of it is muddled to memory from the overdose. What is Remy’s favorite part of the Oval?”
Remy was silent for a minute, though not for consideration, as one might expect.
Oh, Ol'Val
“It is hard to say, I usually stay on board the Voidbreaker, even in port. Esen has pulled me around sometimes…”
Her voice trailed off as a memory asserted itself, than fled back to the past just as quick. She still didn’t know why that happened sometimes, but that thought was always just as fleeting.
“I uh… guess I’ve spent more time at Ruby’s than anywhere else,” she said, picking somewhere almost at random, “it is a central, affordable, and mostly safe place to eat, if I am going to be away from the Voidbreakers mess hall for a significant period of time.”
The shuttle in question was sitting, open. It was well used and old, but also maintained, as travel between the Port and Selen was commonplace. A shiny droid stood out front scanning tickets and luggage. Remy stepped forward and held out her pass.
“All told, I haven’t been many places in general, despite the fact that I have traveled all over. Most ruins are generally the same across the galaxy, crumbling stone and corroding metal.”
“Ruins?” Rue questioned as he too scanned a pass. It was a much slower process, digging out things one handed, but he managed quick enough. A small Wookiee growl to Alk herded the Mott aboard too. “Miss mentioned this…exploring?”
Remy nodded slowly as they boarded the shuttle. The inside was not cramped, but it certainly was crowded. She waved her hand subtly to give gentle nudges to those in front of Rue as they boarded together. She waited until they found their seats, giving Rue the window, before continuing.
“I first learned about the Jedi Order when my planet was liberated. There was no knights with the military force, but the Jedi and Sith were still common enough topics that I had heard of them. I decided it would be my duty to make certain Tant and his kind were stopped, and a Jedi would be someone who could do that. I knew that if I became a refugee I would be snared by the Republics bureaucracy, so I stowed away on one of their ships, which ended up going to Zeltros. And Esen.”
She paused. It wasn’t all too long ago, but it sure felt like it. Her life had been two to four rooms for seventeen years, and after that it was almost a dozen planets.
“I stayed there under her protection for a year before we managed to get a way off planet. She had heard of Selen and told me there was ancient ruins there. I went looking for old information on the Jedi to get the purest education on them. And that was what I did for the next five years, moving from planet to planet, looting old temples for scrolls and databanks. My greatest finds were a holocron, a training saber, and even a full functioning saber. Although that last one was in an active Republic digsite, so I came back to Selen to avoid capture.”
Remy adjusted her chair as she spoke, finding the settings for proper posture.
“I suppose that was my life story. I apologize for answering significantly more than your question.”
“Please do not apologize; this one is honored to know your story. I will hold it in my heart,” Rue replied most sincerely. He seemed content at the window, with the view out of their little entrapped space, and Alk had hopped up on the opposite bench. At least, until he was relegated to the floor by another passenger looking to sit. “So Remy seeks to become of the Jedi. This one is still chiefly ignorant of this topic; I have read through summary histories, but the Outside is vast. Compared to it, the Republic and the Sith seem quite small.”
“The outside is everything. Nobody even knows if there is an end to it. All one can do is set aside a piece to concern themselves with and set about making that place better.”
Remy shifts and lifts a leg so Alk has better room to flop down heavily on Rues feet.
“Not to say in locations, I speak of goals. Many do dedicate themselves to a city or a world, but others dedicate themselves to a cause.”
“And Remy’s cause is Tant,” Rue surmised, echoing the name she had just mentioned and briefly been discussing while Esen was out of the bedroom. “Or the Jedi?”
He idly reached down to give Alk pets.
Remys eyes narrow, “Yes. My creator, my blacksmith. Slaver, genius, forger of people into tools. His forge is broken, but he can always build a new one and find more materials. I have no plans of letting him, but I have to become powerful enough to make sure I can do something about him first.”
When Alk turns his large head, she placate him with a hand rested on his nose.
“I am willing to die to accomplish my goal, but I am not suicidal.”
“This one is glad to hear this. I wish to see you live truly well, Remy.” Saffron eyes met hers, filled with sorrow she could only recognize in naming it, as if looking between diagrams or star charts. He sighed, then looked away again, out the window, at the stars. Gnawed holes in his lip that bled and healed over in moments. Tapped his fingers nervously. His tail twitched.
After a pause that almost necessitated the additional contribution of weather-based commentary, Rue spoke again:
“Remy …have you yet become familiar with the concept of coincidence?”
“I am familiar with the concept, but I’m not sure to what extent it exists.”
Remy pulls out a few metal spheres and lifts them with the Force in a pattern that seems more meditative than real training.
“The Force connects all things, the Force is alive, and those who touch it must align themselves to it to use its power. It follows, then, that the Force is using us, those that can use it, to enact it’s own designs on the galaxy. We can even see the future through it, as if it was predetermined. This, I think, is what many call fate. The only turbulence is from where the Dark Side interferes, creating eddys and strife in the otherwise perfect fate the Force has set out.”
“You speak of them as if they are different things,” Rue observed. “Rather, by the argument you present, is not the Dark Side, which is part of the Force, fulfilling the Force’s design by interfering exactly as it is meant to– as is predicted? In this construction, it is not that the Dark Side interferes in the perfect fate, but that its interference is part of the perfect fate. Light and Dark – Goddess and Lord God – are as equals. Where One’s domain is peace and life, the other intentional chaos and pain. Altogether is the balance, is the weave.”
Remy looks at Rue out the side of her eye, looking like she has heard very similar ideas before.
“If the Dark is part of the whole, it is the part that must be excised. Just as people consider removing evil desires as self improvement, so too is destroying the Darkness. If the Force itself does not strive for a perfect world, then it must be brought to heel one day as well.”
Multicolored, glimmering eyebrows climbed high before they dropped down in a grave look. Rue shook his head.
“You hold such hatred in your heart, to say such things,” he whispered, blinking wet eyes. “To want to destroy everything…as this is the type of operation you suggest. Be careful, Remy. While it is true sometimes one must debride flesh or amputate limb once lost in order to save the rest of the body…this is not that. This is…the gaseous exchange. To over oxygenate would kill as surely as to decarbonize. You cannot simply purge every cell altogether and expect living outcomes. You cannot excise half of the Force and anticipate recovery. I understand you have been hurt. That you have seen your siblings suffer. I have watched hundreds of thousands suffer. But your designs…you sound like the Masters themselves. They are cruel. Not only to life, but to you.”
“Surely we could make machines that would let us breath pure oxygen, if we don’t already. Mortal ingenuity has always surpassed the machinations of ‘gods,” she said, dropping the metal balls into her hand, “the pursuit of a perfect world is what drives everyone, we just all disagree on what that perfection entails. I simply see it as a world without suffering or strife, and to me, anything less than that goal is to be satisfied with evil continuing to happen.”
She waves her hand dismissively before placing the spheres back in her pocket.
“Regardless, the galaxy at large is not my place. I doubt many individuals ever had the ability to even begin destroying evil as a whole. I will simply do what I can to forward that goal.”
“A world without suffering…” Rue echoed. He nodded though, following her conversational lead in moving on from the specifics. “Thus, your goal to become a Jedi and stop Tant.”
He gnawed on one knuckle, particularly hard now, before venturing:
“Remy. I asked of coincidence because this one’s Master, the Master, the first and progenitor of the project for Lord God, had several…it believes the term Outside would be colleagues. To this one they were fellow Masters and Mistresses. But one of them. A rather long time ago. He was called Tant. Did he look like this?”
The hybrid overturned his palm, blood running down around his fingers from his knuckle. Floating over his skin projected an image much like he had done in Esen’s room, only scaled down. The details were also hazier, no proper clothing, fading out around the hands and feet, like a half-body only portrait, but other parts were clear: tan skin, black hair, blue eyes. The demeanor was oily, imposing, superior in every fashion, a gaze cold and calculating, the barest sneer of disgust and resentment.
Remy looks silently, not seeming to react, save for her eyes, which grew brighter and brighter with red light as she stared. The shuttle shuddered as a crackling droid voice came over the intercom, warning of imminent lift off. It was not until it had made it fully into space when Remy spoke again.
“Yes. That is him. Younger than when he made me, but it is definitely him. If he was but one of many, then I have a cadre of targets, not just one.”
Alarm flickered across Rue’s whole self, not at the takeoff but at Remy’s suggestion of further violence.
“He departed when I was still in my first century. This would have been…” A blink of memory, of numbers on necks. “Decades ago. He and Grandfather – the Master – had a vocal disagreement and parting. He did not subscribe to the truth of the Master’s ideology nor acknowledge Lord God. His influence in this one’s creation and the project was quite little. He was an apprentice to Grandfather.”
Remy nods, her eyes still brighter than usual, but down to a less fierce glow.
“He wanted the knowledge and power, but didn’t care for the religious aspect. This fits him. It also explains our difference in craft quality. Your Grandfather was concerned with some form of ascended or greater being, so any expense was a sacrifice made for a god. Tant was just making products, so efficiency and cost effectiveness were more important factors.”
“That is a summary,” Rue affirmed. “But…I am not a failed vessel, or an experiment. And you are not a product. We are people also. Who can like things. And sometimes braid our hair at sleepovers. And also choose to be Jedi.”
The shuttle was already slowing down as it reached the minimum safe distance from Port Ol'Val and began charging its warp drive. The entire hull vibrated in a noticable, yet not worrying manner, for anyone experienced with space travel. Remy looked past Rue out the window idly, watching another, larger ship stretch off into the distance.
“One cannot control the circumstance of their birth, and rarely the circumstances of their growth. Maybe there is a way to change the nature of me or the Siblings, but I am making use of what I have been given. Emotions and connections are hazards and temptations to everyone, but especially to those attempting to do justice and the will of the Light. Every feeling can corrupt any action. Justice becomes revenge and protection becomes murder. So long as I remain pure in this way, I may remain an arbiter of the galaxy in a way few can. And truth be told, even with these advantages, I remain barely average among those in the Brotherhood, so to lose that edge would likely prove fatal in any case.”
Rue frowned, the pull scrunching his brows. He spoke even more softly.
“Remy…feeling nothing may be a kind of purity, but it is not what you are, and, this one would caution, not what will lead you the Light you so seek. You are not an object. You still feel. This is what I speak of, when I speak of seeing the hate in your heart. Of Darkness near to you. Yes, some feelings are therein in Darkness, but feeling is not solely of God and the Dark. You…” he trailed off, then switched tactics, seeking a more logical argument than the pathos he spoke of. “You said to me that I was strong, yes? Of immense power in the Goddess’s light.”
“I have seen many of great power who do not have to follow the old ways to achieve what they have. That does not mean they could not be greater if they did.”
Remy pauses as the shuttle began its jump, the lines of hyperspace outside making it look like they were passing through the star field itself, despite the short jump in system.
“There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no passion, there is serenity.‘ These are two of the core tenants of the Jedi order, millenia of scholars and masters of the Light that has come before. They were not emotionless, but they all agreed that the Light shines more strongly the clearer the mind. In almost every scroll and databank, I found stories of people trying to marry passions with the Light, and that usually ended with another falling to the Dark Side. To follow the Jedi way is to learn to clear yourself of those distractions and find a peace that let’s the Light flow through you. It seems that your source of Light is simply very strong.”
“Or,” Rue offered, “I am simply at peace with my emotions and passions. I accept them. I feel them– strongly. And they, and the Light, flow through me.”
Remys eyes finally had dimmed from their earlier glow, apparently soothed from the agitation at seeing Tant for the first time in over six years. However, she did not seem to interested in arguing that impasse.
“Leaving aside the Force, emotions also leave one open to manipulation and distraction. Fear, mercy, love, rage, attraction, dangers for anyone, but especially crafty monsters like Tant. Certainly they can come with benefits, but they are benefits of comfort, which is unnecessary for someone who does not feel uncomfortable. Weaknesses I am not strong enough to accept.”
Rue’s stare to the side of her face was sad, clearly sad for her, but he only nodded finally and smiled to her kindly.
“If you are content and feel no discomfort, then I am glad for it, Remy. This one just hopes you know…comfort is also okay to have. Such I have learned. I saw nothing they term wrong, illegal, amoral, or abnormal in my upbringing, before. Only when shown that it was… different…when having comfort to compare to…and accepting those comforts…did I find more. You know yourself best, of course. But. This one thinks you may be even stronger than you think you are. Strong enough to be ‘impure’ and accomplish your goals.”
He lapsed into quiet then, watching the flickers of hyperspace as they suddenly dropped; the journey was not long, between the Oval and Selen, a single short jump. The planet appeared out the window, painted blues and greens, misted with whirls of white. Alk shifted underfoot, impatient.
The shuttle drifted in a lazy circle far above Selen, ostensibly to do the necessary check-ins to enter atmosphere, but more likely to give everyone a good view of the sparkling jewel of Dajorra. Remy was looking out the window, but didn’t seem to really be seeing anything. Instead, her eyes began to go slightly again as she seemingly… rambled, possibly only to herself.
“It’s hard to imagine what that would entail. I might want more space, decorations, variety in clothing or food. I might get hobbies or pets, need space for that too. Friends and relationships, maybe social enemies as well. I might even lose interest in the hunt, or even worse, fear it. Time, money, effort, all draining away, giving him time to escape, time to plan and build. No, no I couldn’t. Irresponsible. Greedy.”
With a long, hesitant pause, Rue reached over and set his only hand upon one of hers.
“It is alright,” he murmured, soft yet stronger and surer than the soldier had yet heard him speak. “It is alright to be. To want. You are not alone, Remy. From what this one has seen, the Arcona would support your mission. And so would your friends whom you already have. Esen. Myself. Hunyi would help simply because I would. You fear being waylaid by yourself, but just as you hypothesize that Tant could build, you could too. Friends beside you, whom would fight for you.”
His eyes closed, pain on his features.
“I do not wish for violence. That is why I do not speak of my Masters overmuch. Because for as vast as the Outside is, this one has discovered it is driven with Goodness. These people we have found are good too. And they would commit terrible violences for this one. It does not deserve this. It cannot allow it. But it is truth. And you would surely garner the same. I know others– defense lawyers, Envoys, mercenaries. This is because of…friendship.
If the idea of being a person is yet too much. If you cannot yet feel.l without thinking yourself greedy. Then consider the alternative logic: that bonds have use. That your time spent with them is purposeful, as you said yourself to Esen, a sort of training, socially. You are doing good, Remy. You are doing wonderful. And you are wonderful.”
The shuttle finished its fourth spin and dipped, smoothly accelerating towards the surface. Long ago, Ol'Val had its time aligned with their destination, but for various reasons it had drifted. Nobody seemed to care enough to shift the sleep schedules of every person onboard the station, so despite Remys feeling of it being morning, the city and spaceport rapidly growing in her view was bustling in midday. She shifted in her seat, the massive shift in time and space always resulting in a strange sensation, regardless of distance.
“Even now your compassion causes you pain. Your empathy has been a burden since we met, and you still cannot understand why I spurn it. If I had your pacifism, there would be no one to find Tant, and he would be making more of me. Hundreds, thousands, sold to the highest bidder to arm villains the galaxy over with slavishly loyal Dark Siders trained for war without reason, without end.”
Remy gripps her knee with one hand as the other sets her cane against the floor, the shuttle shuddering as it touches down on the wide landing pad. She continues quietly.
“You should not waste your concern on me. You cannot fill a well by spitting, you will only end up dehydrated.”
Remy reaches out and catches Alk with a hand pressed against his face. He snorts a little in frustration and snaps at her hand. He then freezes, not knowing what to do, now that her fingers had been caught. He didn’t want to bite down, but he definitely needed to punish this big woman for impeding his movement… he decided to begin gently gnawing as he was prevented from darting around the legs of the passengers beginning to file to the doors at the front of the shuttle.
“You do not detain me. I was under no compulsion to accompany you here. But I suppose this is a rather dour line of conversation. I have spent little time in the city, if that would provide a more comfortable topic.”
As the last passengers behind the three moved forward, Remy extricated her hand from Alks mouth, allowing him to excitedly bound around the now almost empty shuttle. She raises her sopping wet hand in front of her face before standing, holding the contaminated limb at an angle outward from her body.
“This one does not mind the conversation either way, however we me segue if Misst– if Remy wishes,” Rue corrected himself. He smiled at her and laughed lightly at the display of her hand, drawing out a handkerchief and offering it. Alk happily stomped his way out and began cantering in circles about them, expecting Rue to join in his game. “The Estle is a very nice city. Open and warm. Elly lives there, with her daughters, whom this one raises. And Hunyi and I camp on the beach outside it.”
Remy takes the offered cloth and begins cleaning her hand as she steps into the aisle, giving Rue time to gather his things and room to step out.
“I suppose that is a valid starting point, you keep mentioning this ‘Hunyi.’ I take it this person is close and/or important to you.”
The hybrid’s being seemed to lighten with his smile, and with the strong, tropical sunlight that immediately basked them. He was glittering, glinting, from head to toe, lashes, brows, hair, tail tip– so much more obvious and animated than indoors, as any one strand lifted with the breeze.
“Yes! Hunyi is…” He considered a moment. “Hunyi is this one’s Esen. She saved me. Protected me and gave me a place to stay and help in understanding the Outside when I first entered it. She is my dearest friend.”
As they cleared the initial crowds of the spaceport moving from ship to ship to vehicle, he began almost dancing about, clearly playing back with Alk, who was still stomping. The two more or less circled around Remy while they all moved forward, headed for the tram that would go to Estle City.
Rue kept talking: “Hunyi is a Wookiee. Alk was hers. Now he is ours, of sorts. Thanks to this one’s physiology, specifically its Fierrero genetics, its vocal cords can accommodate effective speech in Shiryyywook. It asked Hunyi to teach it so that we could speak better. Not many species can speak the language, though understanding seems to be somewhat more common, and translator droids available also. Also datapads. This is how we initially communicated after she showed me how to use the basic functions. Though it was still difficult. She also only has one arm, and her claws are not suited for typing. This one thinks datapads better sized for Wookiees should be more available. However since they are not we did the best that we could. We are very good at the charades as well.”
- He laughed then, smiling, before it fell some. “When we first came here to the Dajorra, there was a…incident, on the Oval. Hunyi left this one alone while she bartered for us, as this one knew nothing. It had only been out for some weeks. It met an individual who said he had medicine, and for this one, medicines were administered by the Masters– they must be taken and reported on. So it took all it was given. This lead to what is called an overdose, colloquially. It nearly died. Hunyi had to break into a clinic to find it help. Since then this one has not gone much to the Oval, as to minimize risk of further mistakes.”
Remy nods as she followed Rue, slowly, to allow him his time with Alk.
“Ol'Val is not the most safe or legal place in the galaxy, yes. I’m sure you have learned this in your time… outside, but most people don’t get medicine in single doses, and Ol'Val is a place where dangerous, illegal recreational drugs can be found easier than most others. You sound like you have taken an interest in medical practice, so I hope you know what and how much to take now.”
Content that Rue wasn’t about to disapear, Remy took out one of her datapads and connected to the starports network to find some maps of the city as she continued.
“But it is good that you have someone so dedicated to protecting you, even if you likely don’t need it as much as you once did. I myself have not learned many languages, save Arkanian, which I learned for obvious reasons. Given that I have no need to visit Kashyyyk, I feel like learning Shiryyywook would have very limited return compared to the investment required. Thinking about it, it is also likely very lucky that Hunyi has you as well, being so far from Kashyyyk means there is likely not many who they could just sit down and talk with. Unless Selen has an anomalously large wookie population, that is.”
Rue missed a step in his frolicking, eyes widening in realization.
“I…it has never. Ah.” He looked suddenly about to cry. “This one has never thought about that Hunyi has it too.” Rue wiped at his eyes, as indeed, there was crying. He cried so freely, as freely as he smiled or cowered or anything else. “Thank you for this, Remy. You give me a gift. It is only tragic, to think, Hunyi is isolated as well.”
They boarded the tram, and once Alk was – poutingly – settled, Rue backtracked in the conversation.
“This one has always been interested in healing and medicine, and it and all the other experiments were rigorously taught and tested for intelligence and aptitude if they survived past infancy: advanced mathematics and sciences, physics, chemistry, biochemistry, et cetera. We were taught both to write and read and our speed and competency as well as penmanship would be scrutinized. Any potential vessel of Lord God was to be most perfect both in physicality and in mental ability. First the physical weeding, then the mental, followed by a combination of greater testing and experimentation before extermination or reclamation. Additionally, the Master – Grandfather – was…more indulgent, than his daughter and her son came to be. He allowed this one to study all the practices and producers that were performed and other medicine and surgery. This one is not only interested in medicine as a field but has over a century of practice. That said, its surgical skills specifically are more theoretical than practical, as it was not permitted to perform complex procedures outside of emergency medicine. Its skills lie chiefly in healing.”
The ramble ended abruptly as Rue looked at his only hand, holding it up and examining it. A distant look crossed his face. Unbeknownst to him, other nearby passengers were shooting them rather strange looks, one or two even glaring at his babble.
- “I could heal anything. Even the Master’s own children, once, when they fell sick. Fatal, horrific injuries and illnesses inflicted intentionally. But there was never anything I could do to stop my litluns from degrading at the cellular level. You can’t stop DNA. I too will one day expire in this fashion. We were not made to live.” He blinked, unseeing, softer then. “I do not understand why I am alive. But it is so. And so it must be.”
Remy opts not to point out Rue began saying “I” towards the end of his speech, grabbing one of the overhead rails to leave the seats for other passengers.
“I do not understand why the perfect vessel for a god would be short lived, but if you are not, then every moment you live is another blow to those who created you. You may not understand why you live, but I do. You were made to be a vessel for Darkness, with an expiration date, filled with constant agony and loss, and then you took all that effort, power, knowledge and death for yourself. You have wasted so much of the Darks power on healing the pain and injury of others, twisting the tool created by and for the Dark to serve the Light instead. In your own way, you are doing the same thing I am trying, albiet with substantially more success.”
Remy spoke openly, and with a normal speaking voice, of death and the Force in a fairly open attempt to split the attentions of the onlookers. Normally she would be fine with allowing others to make spectacles of themselves, but… something was different. Something kept compelling her to act strangely with this one.
The woman’s militant demeanor, combined with her red eyes, sinister shadows curling from her hair, and the words she spoke, seemed to be enough to get the lookie-loos to drop their gazes with coughs or otherwise shuffle away. Rue, still oblivious, snapped back into the present to find no one around them judging him, even as he glanced about.
“I…” he began, and then closed his mouth. He seemed pained. “I do not know…what to say to this. Opinions are such strange things to have freely now.” The comment was avoidant, naturally, and he seemed to make a almost physical effort to keep on topic. “This one thinks Remy will be very successful. If it can help, it will. Even flawed as it is. And, it is– the experiments were not meant to be long lived because we were…test phases. Prototypes experimenting with traits. The healing factor of its Fierrero genes, for instance. The longevity of a Dowutan. Wookiee strength, with the durability of Zabrak cardiovascular systems. These are just a few examples. My daughter, whom I showed you, was primarily Clawdite DNA codes. Tweak one line of an amino acid and all could be different or fail. Things such as this. The theoretical vessel would eventually be most perfect and suited only to God Himself. Of course they all began with the Master’s own genetics…”
The tram shuddered as it began its trek, which seemed likely to take roughly the same time as the flight all the way from Ol'Val. Remy watched out the window idly, the noonday sun beating down on greenery, white sand, and brilliant blue waves.
“My genetics are not so fragile. We were all subject to constant surgery and genetic modification, but our conceptions were mostly natural. The intent was for mass production of stable bodies, after all. But I don’t know if I or any of the Siblings know about all of our augmentations, it is possible we only live thirty or so years, part eliminating products past their prime, part planned obsolescence. Tant must have just applied what he learned from your former master to more standard Arkanian mastery of genetic modification. The more you strive for perfection, the easier it is to fail, and the more catastrophic those failures are. Have your former masters been erased yet?”
Rue’s jaw tightened.
“The Master – Grandfather – expired some two decades ago. He lived…longer than the standard for his species. His family now oversees the project. As far as this one knows, nothing should have changed since it sinfully departed.” He looked to Remy with a mixture of sorrow and gratitude, overlaid by defensiveness that was plain on him as every other bleeding emotion. “I hope you live a long and healthy life, Remy. It is perhaps something we could discover, this planned obsolescence, with examination of your genetics and divination through the Goddess’s eyes. Er, that is, your Force.”
“More monsters to be hunted then, although I’m sure there is no shortage of those. Regardless, it is unlikely I’ll survive long enough to find them. My life is dangerous and will continue to get moreso. Between Tants preparations and my likely short life, I don’t have time to move safely.”
There is a long moment where Remy just stares out the window, face blank, but something inside shifting, growing heavier. It was far from the first time she had the strange sensation, but it retreated when she looked down again and noted Rues pained face.
“You may perform your… examinations if you wish, although I would imagine my genetics are rather simple and standard compared to your own, or others like you. My biology is less… new and inventive then a highly polished version of what it would have been normally. Frankly, everything they did seemed like a lot of time, effort and resources for someone who is moderately physically superior to what I would have been naturally. I spent my first twelve years having most of my body removed, improved, and replaced, but apparently they were able to do it cheaply enough to be cost effective.”
Rue’s throat worked. “This one is very familiar with such experiences. I am sorry that you are. But, yes, if Remy is willing…I would like to try to help you. However I can.”
Finally, the beaches outside began to give way to buildings, signalling the approach to their last stop. Remy shook her head slowly, her eyes closing in dissapointment for a moment.
“And I brought us back to dark things again. I suppose it is difficult not to when most of both our pasts are so grim. You mentioned you are caring for the children of… Elly. Elaborate.”
“It is alright. I too seem to make those around me sad when I speak of my past as well. I never thought it was sad, or bad, until those on the Outside began reacting to this one…negatively.”
Rue turned and smiled at her as the tram slowed and the doors opened, ushering them into the sun and spirited noise of Estle City. Alk happily ran ahead, and Rue offered his only hand, if wanted, to walk with her into the daylight.
“Such things are normal to this one. Just because I am sad for your pain does not mean I cannot bear your pain. I would do so with honor. You are safe to speak freely with me,” he assured, going on, if Remy accepted the touch or not, “Elly is a friend. She works as a defense attorney here in the city, formerly on Kasiya, the planet of the Taldrya Clan. This means that she practices the law and defends her clients. Protects people. Her daughters are Sulla, who is eight, and Lektra, who is soon to be two, and also another Lektra, who is an adult and from a different time than us, but her daughter and thus my daughter all the same, as any litluns. Elly works often, so most days I care for the girls and take them to and from school and spend evenings with them until she gets home. Dawn and dusk I spend with Hunyi and Alk at our camp, or in prayer, or doing the readings, or with you at sleepovers…”
Remy takes Rues offered hand, more to humor him than anything else. The light, heat and noise of Estle was not unfamiliar, but it had been a long time since she had truly been in a city outside of Ol'Val.
“That certainly seems like a job you would appreciate. All the duties you have taken on seem to be things you enjoy, although I suppose that makes sense. Do you have further goals, or are you content to act as a guide and healer? Are you satisfied with the comparitive peace you have found, or do you have ambitions for more good?”
When Remy accepted his hand, Rue began a soft purr that was drowned by all the noises of moving people, city life, and distant junglesong beyond the walls– birds and insects and animals galore. Past that, the faintest roar of the ocean. He would swing their hands between them as they walked, almost skipping in step, Alk bounding along beside.
“I…do not know,” he replied, looking up into the endless blue sky. “It is still very new, to want at all. This one had a purpose before. Then it did not. To have an ambition still seems blasphemy. The domain of the Masters. Greatness and will. Things this one is so very far beneath. It is why Esen’s query of if this one ever thought of being a hair dresser was answered in the negative. What I always wished most secretly, hidden even from itself, was to heal and help. To raise the litluns. To see them healthy. Happy. Perhaps even…to be able to practice more of what Grandmother taught, so very long ago. It seems too impossible to ponder. This one feels…”
He gestures towards his chest and head with the stump of his arm.
“It is…as though the self recoils. Physical reactions of tachycardia, arrhythmia, increased respiration. Thinking becomes difficult. This one tries to want and think about things, as my friends all seem to want and hope I will, but sometimes, I fail.”
“You are rumbling. I assume this is normal.”
Remy grows silent on thought, considering how aggressive she should be in her response.
“Then you do have an ambition; to find a greater ambition. To rise above your slavers and what they considered your place, and one day strive for something else. And that is what they are. No matter what they might have done, or how nice you thought they were, they never let you go. They never stopped tormenting you. Evil, slaving, sadistic, arrogant, violent, obsessive, monstrous cultists. They are simply different shades of sin. They are not masters. Masters are teachers of the highest level. That is simply a name the evil take for themselves to convince themselves and those under their power that they are something more than abhorrent parasites. These creatures are slavers and tortures, nothing more. If you wish to grow beyond their influence, you must recognize that no matter what kind words they said, they never held back their hand, they never wanted what was best for you.”
The aforementioned rumbling – though he did nod to indicate he was well – stopped midway through Remy’s speech. Rue’s shoulders stooped as his head slumped, tail retracting from where it had been waving to curl closer in anxiety. He flinched with each word like it was a physical blow.
But eventually, eventually, so quiet as to be nearly lost in the crowds, an admission:
“They never said anything kind.”
“Do not deflect with semantics,” she said, not deterred by the show of pain, but equally quiet now, “you spoke of this ‘grandfather’ and ‘grandmother’ as if they were lesser evils, as if they had redeeming qualities. They do not. They kept you in your cell, your operating room, your torture chamber, and pretended to be more than animals chasing the base desires of the Dark. If you look at them, any part of them with fondness, they will never let you go. You will never grow beyond their reach or find your ambition. You may claim that I feel hatred for Tant, but even if that could be true, it is my choice to not let go of him. My ambition is to ensure that every plan he makes for his future is haunted by his past, to be a punishment for his sins. That is the one choice I have ever made, but it was mine. I am beyond him now. I would like to see you grow beyond them too.”
She pauses as she realises what she just said. A preference? A hope? No, just s turn of phrase, surely
Rue’s body continued to tense even as they kept walking, Alk far ahead now, thanks to his lessening pace, Remy’s march undetered. His mouth twisted with agony, eeking out a suddenly snapping reply.
“Grandmother wasn’t. She wasn’t like them. She was like– me. But not an experiment. She came from the Outside. Master took people. Brought them as samples and kept them. In the cells. She was a Ryn strain. The predominant of this one’s aside from Master’s Kessurian and the Fierrero and Dowutan. She. She was perfect. She was all I ever–” his voice cracked. He dropped Remy’s hand to clutch at his chest. “Hers is the Goddess– not God, like Master’s, not the same. Hers is me, her Rue Flower. Hers is stories and healing and songs, she taught me everything kind, she loved, she kept it secret from the Masters, we whispered–” a tap to his forehead, then miming a shushing gesture. “Hers is every experiment that ever had a name, that I ever named after she expi– after they killed her.”
He stopped in the street, tears flowing freely as ever.
Two attempts, two failures. This is why Remy tried to stick to problems solvable with fists. In any case, the point was certainly lost now, and that path had come to an abrupt end.
“My… apologies. Your naming conventions for family led me to believe that anyone not a child was one of the cultists. I made an assumption and an error.”
Remy moved closer, but not particularly close, to Rue, trying to give off a vaguely menacing aura to any who might be watching.
Rue sniffled, wiping at his face. He didn’t seem to register the purpose for Remy’s movement to be shielding him from view – and part around her the small crowd did – but rather an offer, and stooped down to put his forehead on her shoulder, as if she had offered him a hug.
“It is alright. You did not know and this one communicates clumsily when not giving a report.” Another sniff, a brief cheek nuzzle, and he lifted his head again. “For the most part your heuristic is reasonable and correct. Most adults were Masters or Mistresses. But a portion of the population at any given time, particularly in the early days, would also be sample individuals. A handful of experiments also survived to adulthood like this one. But often too would they eventually expire or exceed use case. This one was really only maintained due to its Sensitivity. The Master and his family tried, but they could not induce one’s ability to access the powers of the gods, your Force. Most of our number expired in fetal or prepubescent stages.”
Remy froze for a moment when Rue moved in, expecting something, but not this. Eventually, she robotically moving her arms around the distraught man, knowing what hugs were, but not having participated herself.
“Tant never figured it out either. I think he figured out how to amplify Force connection, but he could never create it. I don’t think anyone knows how many he murdered because they could not pass tests to move pebbles or detect people through walls. Most of us were allowed to live long enough to awaken. Long enough to suffer under the knife before they died.”
Rue gave her a squeeze, tight.
“I…do not like that man,” he supplied, rather than again apologize for their pain and suffering. “I do not know whether or not to feel any way about either of their lack of success. Grandmother taught that the Moon Mother – our aspect of the Goddess – chooses her bearers. The Masters contended God was all powerful and they grew strong through his worship and domination. It seems to this one that, if no amount of genetic tooling or manipulation of the circumstance of our birth could control it, then the Force inherently is not tied to the body, but the soul.”
“Perhaps, if souls exist. It is also likely that, given that the Force has access to both the past and future, both aspects empower those that forward its twin purposes. The Light empowers those that both align with its purpose, and have the potential for effectiveness, and the Dark empowers those that are willing to be parasitised for personal gain. Like how we described the concept of the Light and Darks dueling fates, the Force bestows power only to fulfill its own prophecies.”
Remy considered also tightening her hug, but reasoned that the strength of the hold was likely based on some social understanding, and that more strength was not necessarily better. Breaking Rues spine was probably not the optimal move. Instead, she just kind of… let Rue do his thing.
“Either way, the Force is as of yet unknowable, not all the Jedi in history working together have come up with a full explanation for it yet. Until it has been fully researched, we will never be able to know how Sensitives are chosen. And until the galaxy is wiped clean of Grandfathers and Tants, that is likely for the best.”
Rue hummed in response, snottily, not seeming to want to agree with sentiments about elimination but also not fully rebuking them. He held her for a bit longer before pulling back, as he finally noticed they were being socially and spatially impolite to have stopped in the middle of a space where others were walking.
Instead, he took her hand again and resumed, having to look a moment and whistle, calling in Shiryyywook, for Alk. The Mott bounded back to them, chewing on who knew what, and they resumed their walk through the city.
After a few quiet minutes, he broached a related but new subject. “Remy mentions researching of the Force. Is this also an interest of yours?”
“In a way. I follow the path of the Guardian, so I study the Force pragmatically, as I train with weapons or my body. I do not know how much of the Jedi order is common knowledge, but Guardians are the warrior branch of the Order, while Consulars are the scholars.”
Remy still didn’t really know where they were going. Rue had said something about a camp, but wouldn’t that be outside the city? Regardless, he seemed like he was heading somewhere, so she was content to follow.
“In truth, I spent most of the last five or six years learning badly, only that which I could figure out myself or from the records I could find. In joining the Brotherhood my progress has increased greatly, although I have found nothing groundbreaking, by any means.”
“This one has only been able to find a few texts thus far in the Estle library relevant to the Jedi, which chiefly spoke of their history as an entity and military arm of the Republic in the last century only, though alluding to many previous. I’ve never heard of the Guardians. If Remy is to be one, however, they must certainly be heroes.” Rue’s tears had stopped, and rather now he don’t quickly but with great interest, the brightness about him that of a scholar vibrating amidst endless tomes. “I would love to learn more, from your or your sources.”
“Hero is certainly a word that could be used to describe the Guardians. As I said, they are warriors, police, the Jedi that learn to fight and deal with people most often, as well as the most numerous. The Consuls are diplomats and scholars, usually the most skilled, if not necessarily the most powerful, with the Force. And the Sentinels, who act as spies, investigators, and any number of more clandestine positions. These are the three main branches of the Order, but our history starts well over thirty six millennia ago when the eight Tho Yor, giant automated pyramid ships, gathered Force Sensitives of many different species from across the galaxy and brought them to the planet Tython in the Deep Core, where they would use the Dai Bendu religion as a base for the original Je'Daii Order…”
Remy went off, her voice and wording more than a bit dry, but her knowledge of the Orders history exact and thorough. Several times, she has to stop herself from going too in depth, as she did not plan on acting like she was teaching a formal class, but to anyone who was anything less than enraptured by Jedi history, she was undoubtedly a bore. Remy was unaware of how much time had passed when she had finally made it to retelling the Clone Wars, and Rue had stopped moving for a good five minutes, still politely listening to history he undoubtedly already knew.
“Ah, it would seem we are here. Well, if you want anything more in depth, you can borrow my primary sources, I am sure you would treat them with care enough not to damage them.”
As Remy spoke, Rue had released her hand, scrabbling to dig into his bag. He opened a notebook and began writing, using his arm stub as a brace, not needing to take his eyes off the street in front of them to record the notation. If Remy were to look, she would see it was some kind of non-Basic script, and, with her general intellect, observation, and thought patterns, likely recognize the scratches and marks of repeating or similar symbols. A code of some kind. The only words in basic that emerged were the proper nouns, whose spelling was clearly guessed at.
When she finally stopped, Rue beamed at her, hand absolutely ink stained and smudged, a swipe of it on his scaled cheek. He bounced on his toes.
“This one would be most honored and humbled and great treat them magnificently! And yes, we are here.”
Here was, apparently, indeed outside the city. Only Rue had lead them through to one specific gate, and they had progressed down the path outside until eventually leaving it and thus departing directly through the swathes of beautiful, rich jungle that abutted the coastline. From there they had emerged onto the beach, a strip of soft, powdery white sand swirled with pale browns and golds. A roaring – at least, it seemed quiet loud and vast to Remy – ocean of the bluest blue ever lapped slowly at the shore. Nearby was what was evidently a camp of a kind, with well-trodden and packed sand and earth, bedrolls and equipment netted up in the trees, a firepit with endless uses, logs for sitting, and an…eclectic mix of decorations, even. Also: plants. Plants on plants. Some of the native jungle species, certainly, but also gardened rows of others, pots, pans, even a drawer full of dirt and mushrooms.
“Welcome to our camp. May I offer you anything?” He flipped he is journal closed, having filled multiple pages back and front.
“Water, if you have it readily available,” she nods, “It was a long walk and a lot of talking.”
Remy moves into the camp, her cane long since hooked on her waist, and looks around, politely not touching anything.
“This is… not what I was expecting of you in terms of a living space. For someone that claims he struggles so much with individuality, you have a very unique and expressive home. I suppose it’s hard to imagine Alk being happy anywhere inside for too long.”
“It is not just this one but also Hunyi… Though the plants are this one,” he laughed as he went to a medium-sized contraption with a black tarp constructed of a mix of wood and metal. Beside it was a more identifiable camtono, from which Rue drew water into a mug and brought it to Remy. The mug was clay, and not the most…uniform…shape, lumpy and wavy in places. It had dark staining in natural colors and imprints of flowers and leaves that had been baked into the sides. “Apologies that it is not cold. We do not have ice. But if Remy wishes to cool down, we could go for a swim? Please– sit anywhere or do anything you like!”
Alk was a great demonstration of this, charging up and down the beach and stomping in circles, tossing sand and a large ball with his horn, pushing it around. He ran in and out of the shallows, grunting happily, his tiny, short whip of a tail wagging.
“Cold water is inefficient anyway,” she said, sitting down on a log.
Remy sits for a moment, drinking her water as Rue performed some quick checks on his garden. She looked out to Alk, rolling in the surf, having the time of his life. Although, to be fair, he did usually seem to be having the time of his life.
“Anyway, I had said before that I had a request of you. Before, at the hotel, you had used the Force to speak in my mind. That was an ability I didn’t know was possible, and I was hoping you would give me assistance in starting to learn the ability.”
As Rue returned from the plants, fingers already rich with soil and several leaves and flowers and such clutched in his hand, he looked to Remy and nodded.
“Yes, it is possible. This is how Grandmother first taught me to speak. I…do not have a great deal of practice in teaching it. Only two of my litluns lived long enough to learn. But as I said, if I can do anything to help you as your friend, I will.”
He drew more water, got another mug, and then started a fire. Over it went a small kettle with the water, the leaves in the mug.
Would Remy like any tea? came his voice unfrettered in her mind.
Remys eyes grew distant as she began to focus. Her previous attempt was to try and transmit information through the Force, but that obviously wasn’t it. All living things are connected, right? This time she simply began to try and think inside Rues mind, instead of her own.
A good minute passed as Rue prepared his tea, not seeming to react to Remys attempt.
“I… yes, thank you,” she nodded slightly. She paused again, deep in thought, “The ability to augment my body has been the only ability to come naturally so far, but it seems like I can handle most others once I’ve learned the basics beforehand. Is this normal?”
Rue hummed and took back Remy’s finished cup of water, dividing leaves into the mug.
Grandmother taught that making tea, and its serving as well as the medicinal and spiritual properties of the herbs involved, was a grounding ritual in and of itself, he explained. Grounding, mindfulness, tranquility, and connecting to nature. Indeed, all loving things ARE connected, as you think. Here: peppermint, for wellness, focus and calm. Lemon balm, for sharpness and alacrity of thought. Jasmine for wakefulness and harmony. Magnolia– your flower, do you remember? Safety, strength, endurance.
It was very similar to him speaking aloud, but much…stronger. Less of the meekness of his voice. More sure.
I believe this is normal for learning, yes. It seems mostly as any other skill, requiring practice, save a talent for some things. This one’s healing abilities for instance are incredibly strong, and it has also had a century of practice at them, whereas it was never permitted anything like what the Masters did. Like what you do with your balls. We will practice. Do you feel me? In your mind? In the Godde– in the Force?
She did feel him, after a fashion. “Hearing” his words felt normal, natural, so long as she didn’t focus on the source, but when she tried to find the source of the invasive thoughts… it was like looking at a waterfall from beneath the surface.
Rue had mentioned something she hadn’t said. Either he was reading her with that power or she had managed the feat in a small way. No matter which, she was close. Remy tried to slide back along that flow, mixing both her earlier attempts of transmitting thought and thinking her thoughts in his mind, focusing on something simple, something evident and easy to fix her mind on.
T-t-t-tttttteeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa
Visually, Remy was staring at the array of leaves and pottery in front of Rue like she was about to leap on it, but after a second her focus snapped, and she looked back up at him, almost expectant to see if he had heard. This particular type of focus was much harder to keep than most.
Rue was beaming at her when she looked up, and this time he spoke aloud.
“I hear you,” he told her, tail tip flicking, beginning to rumble again. “There you are. You can do it. I would tell my litluns…focus on me. We would hold hands, if they had them. Or touch, if we could. And we would just focus on something in its simplest form. A feeling. Each other. Feel me. Find me. And then, then you can hear me. And I can hear you.”
“It is a strange kind of focus… the empty receptiveness of foresight and extrasensory perception alongside the sharp focus required for telekinetic manipulation. Not mutually exclusive, but only just.”
Remy relaxes back slightly, nodding in thanks as the brewing tea is set in front of her.
“Rudimentary, but a starting point. Two things separate, but mixing over time. The eventual sum greater than it’s parts.”
Her eyes locked on the mug, watching the leaves swirl gently.
S-s-sppppppiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnn
Glancing up and seeing another grin, Remy knew that at the very least, she had gotten started on the path to mastering this ability.
“What about you, Master Kendis? It is common practice for scholars to exchange their learning, not just leech off of each other. You possess great power, but your ability to study and practice was stifled, as mine was not. Perhaps I might know something that could be of help to you?”
“Oh, this one is no Mast–” he stuttered to stop, considering her earlier diatribe against his Masters compared to her own use of the term towards Doon. “Ah. Um. This one supposes. Very well. As this one said, it has never been permitted to practice many abilities. The fact of the matter is, there is likely much I do not know I do not know. Much I observed over the decades…the Masters’ and Mistresses dark powers. Electrocution, telekinesis of a more…violent kind than your displays, warping and breaking of the mind. Many…used against us, practiced on us. Even on their own daughter.”
He looked off into the ocean, quiet a moment, as they took their tea.
Perhaps, what is Remy most proud of? Saffron eyes flicked back to her, a gentle smile replacing the faraway, grieving look, opening that connection again.
Remy sipped her tea, just barely cool enough to stomach, and considered what she might actually have to impart.
“You do speak of evil abilities, but most evil abilities can be used in different ways. I saw most, I have heard legends of lightning that can be used without the focus on pain, but I don’t know how much stock in those legends. Putting that aside, something I think you may be able to get use out of… I have learned to see visions. Prophecies, histories witnessed by no one, sights from a galaxy apart. By itself, not the most potent of powers, but useful in progressing esoteric studies of the pure nature of the Force, which seems like something that might interest you.”
“The Dreaming!” Rue exclaimed aloud in sudden excitement, eyes widening in recognition. His tea sloshed, but he hardly seemed to notice the scald as he sort of pointed with his only hand full. “Grandmother had this! She said it was a rare gift in the women of our family’s line, and that her foremother’s foremother had been the last. Remy knows this also?!”
Remys eyes brighten slightly at the outburst, but they dim again when she notes the positive reaction. She takes another sip before setting the cup down.
“I… perhaps. To my knowledge, it isn’t anything hereditary. It seems from my experience to be a specialized, very difficult form of our sixth sense. I have rarely seen much of any use, but I have seen things I know are of the future, or rather of possible futures. I imagine the result of training the ability is to pick out useful and accurate information from the spiraling fractals of infinite information that the Force holds.”
Remy leans forward and looks down, lost in memory. With a narrowing of the eyes, she almost seems troubled.
“Most futures the Force has chosen to show me are dark, though. And distant. Nothing helpful, just a useful exercise for clearing the mind.”
Straightening, she grabs her tea and finishes it, leaves and all.
“Like most Force abilities, I don’t think I could really ‘teach’ you, but I could try and tell you how I do it. Maybe your Grandmother was mistaken, or maybe this is something similar, but different, from this ‘Dreaming’ ability.”
“Mmm, perhaps you are right. She ceased to Dream, to have foretellings, when the Masters took her from the stars. They could be different abilities. There is much unknowable and unknown to us both.” Rue’s agreement was simple but thoughtful, and his tail tip flicked in a pleased manner, watching Remy eat even the leaves. All the better for her.
The troubled tilt didn’t escape him, though, and his lips and brows pursed as he considered her.
“Remy…in my experience, there is always darkness. There always has been. But so too is there light always. In death, life. In pain and torment, and having so little without even knowing it…there is so much possibility in every moment. I wonder…what if we hypothesized that your Force chooses to show you these distant darknesses not because there is not hope or light to come, but because it knows you and your motivations, that if you see darkness, you will seek to oppose it? That you will continue forward. Perhaps the helpfulness is not in foresight but in faith. That it has faith in you and wants you to continue, whatever story it must tell to accomplish this.
This was what Grandmother said. That the Goddess grants Her children the gift of Her light not only because She knows they will use it to do Her good: – to shelter, to secret, to protect, to dream – but also because She loves them. And if you ever know the love for a child…you will know that anything you can do for them, you will. Including show them a fancy, when their life is naught but the barest necessities required for continued respiration, and tests, and training.”
His tail flicked again, and with it came the flick and whirl of a wave; a dazzle of brief color and light, fishes and flowers and stars spun together.
“No, it wasn’t…” she paused, considering if there was a point to revealing her visions from just a day before, “I saw the end to my mission three times yesterday. They couldn’t have all truly been possible futures, with mutually exclusive details, but they were all failures. One where I went mad and fell to the Dark, one where Tant died in the raid and I was chasing nothing, and one where I simply forgot my purpose.”
Standing, Remy moved around between potted plants slowly, likely not realizing that she was pacing.
“If the Force is trying to teach a lesson, then it is one that comes far too late. A vision showing where my path goes wrong would be much more helpful than just knowing that my path can go wrong. I suppose being able to find and interpret useful visions is the point of training the skill, for those who can spare the time and effort.”
Rue watched her move, head turning this way and that as she circled Aster amellus and Lysimachia latifolia and Vanilla planifolia and many others.
“It would seem logical to conclude such,” Rue acknowledged, before backtracking, “Remy, why would it be a failure if Tant had expired? Either in this raid or from some other way? Would that not be what you wished? Him unable to harm others by continued experimentation?”
“Because that means that all of it has been for nothing.”
Remy stopped and turned her head. Despite not actually changing, she looked… tired. Old.
“I have killed almost a hundred people, Rue. I am supporting the Dark Jedi Brotherhood. I have spent my entire life training and working for this one thing. Yes, it would be good if he was alive, but it means that my mission has no end. It means that every sacrifice has been worth nothing. And I cannot risk giving up when he could be out there. I cannot risk entertaining that vision.”
“What this one means to question is not for Remy to change your course, but to consider the way in which you are framing this possible path as a failure is a logical fallacy. You cannot be to blame for something you do not know. Therefore, you cannot have failed if Tant is already dead and you do not know it. Please do not burden yourself with that framing. You discredit yourself and the sacrifices you uphold. What will you do, if you do find Tant, and kill him? What then? Surely there must be something. This too will remain if he has already died.”
“I have no plans beyond Tant,” Remy said, Stilling herself with a conscious effort, even using the Force to calm her bodies biological functions, “he is all that matters to me. I could find a new target, I could stand motionless until I die of starvation. That is all immaterial. If Tant were somehow unprepared for the raid, somehow didn’t escape… then my failure is in everything else.”
Remy slowly moves back over to her seat, stroking her cane like a treasured artifact.
“Do you know of the concept of karma? The idea that good and evil have abstract values, and they add together for a final count of morality. I am counting on Tant to be the payoff. If he is alive, then my life has been lived for the greater good. If not, then I am myself a villain. A lesser one, but still a stain on the galaxy, to be removed for the betterment of all.”
“You claim this, but your removal would not be to the betterment of myself, nor of Esen,” Rue countered, eyes dampening at the thought. “It would only be more pain and loss. If there are indeed values of morality, then why not make a plan after Tant? To do good things. If not for your own due paid, then to become more than a villain. To create betterment. To be a Jedi. To be our friend, Remy.”
“And what if that causes my resolve to weaken? What if thinking about what comes after makes me reconsider my path?”
She stabs her cane in the sand, letting it stand free.
“With no plan for retreat or what comes after, all that matters is the mission. One of my visions warned me of thinking too far ahead, as you have suggested. I was wandering the galaxy with… friends. Stopping crime, but having forgotten Tant. I lost my sole strength of dispassion, and because of that I failed to find him. That is unacceptable.”
The hybird stared at the cane, having flinched slightly at the sharp movement, then back at her. This was a trait they shared; youthful faces, but aged eyes, perhaps ancient in his case. Still, while his look was sad, then, it came with the gentlest of smiles to her.
“You have so many more strengths than dispassion, Remy. But…if what Remy needs is to only have her path, I would walk with her on it and be her friend until it comes to an end. If she would allow.”
Rue’s hand and gaze away as she spoke once they landed. His glittering lashes flecked with tears, shoulders curling inwards, slightly away from her. He lifted his legs as an eager Alk shuffled upright and wormed his way out past Remy, briefly knocking into her cane.
“This one then supposes we reach another impasse. It is not wasted to me. I care about you. This one apologizes for being burdensome. Shall we go? It will not detain you any longer.”
“You must have some form of grand insight if you can see something that I do not. Or you could just have lower standards than I do.”
She closes her eyes for a moment, before straightening, her usual blank look back in full force.
“I know you do like these pleasantries, but if you would like to try to… See for yourself, it is generally a long process. It is a rather… peaceful one. Even if you are incapable, I don’t think you will consider the training particularly stressful.”
Remy took her bag off her shoulder, trying to find the peace to transfer her thoughts while hanging it on her cane. She tried to picture a metaphor this time, a pure form of the Light, white and clear.
“With your past, I don’t see how your future could be anything but light in comparison.”
Rue just smiled for her again and patted the spot beside him in the sand.
“I would be honored to do this with you.”
Remy gave a small sigh, rising and moving over to Rues side and sitting in the sand.
“Very well, though you should know this is not something that can be done quickly, even for those practiced. Where the ability to Sense can be likened to looking through waters, possibly deep or polluted, to find information about another, this ability is like looking into the depths and waiting for the currents to bring something up of their own accord. You must find a position that you can remain still in for possibly hours without aches or discomfort. Purists might prefer kneeling or sitting cross legged, but I see no reason you cannot use a bed or chair.”
She crosses her legs, resting her hands on her knees and closing her eyes.
“The way I do it is very similar to Sensing. Most of the abilities I have are from applying the skills I already possessed in strange ways, and this is no exception. Cast your Senses out like normal, but do not look for someone. Do not look for anything. The Force connects all, but do not look through the connections, but at them instead. Through this, the world becomes indistinct, no borders, nothing to differentiate. It is all… one.”
As she speaks, Remy seems to slump, almost like she’s falling asleep. Despite that, her voice doesn’t change from its usual, boring monotone.
“You cannot hope to find an answer… You cannot fear what you might see… If you have any expectation at all, that intent will… ripple through the Force and distort… the image. You may look upon it, but you are still a part… of the One… Your mind affects it like any other. You… must be… empty…”
“This one spent the previous one hundred and twenty-eight years of its life in various forms of supplication; it can sit in any position for a long time,” Rue murmured as Remy settled beside him. He did, however, rearrange himself into what might have been a more comfortable lounge, if one was a feline. Then he closed his eyes, listening as Remy went on.
Certainly, her instructions were clear and experienced, though perhaps it was doubtful that someone as…permeated with feelings such as Rue would ever succeed at the task. Remy asked no questions as they sat, their thighs brushing, herself emptying.
Perhaps it was that physical proximity. Perhaps it was the doorway in his mind, the connection Rue had held open and welcoming for her in their telepathic exchange, what came next. What her emptiness echoed with. But between one blank, unfeeling blink and another, she was no longer sitting on the Selenian beach.
She stood, bare, in a field. Or what was constructed as one. Everything, from each blade of grass to the dirt, was a pure white, a sudden enough change that it was briefly blinding. The sky above was also white. But it was speckled with red. Billions of red stars. And as her foot crunched through crumbling grass as unpainted clay, her gaze was drawn to more color: flowers, low to the ground, amidst white leaves. They were yellow.
Wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
That wrongness was pervasive. It roared up, as if she had taken a step off a dock into deep water, not into a meadow. It washed overhead all at once, an immersion of white-hot, burning agony. This was a sensation she had only experienced briefly in training with the Siblings; that of flesh burning.
- She was being burned alive.
And it was because of those flowers. The knowledge was impressed upon her. Moved her. Almost without her control, she was sprinting forward, while the sky bled redder and redder, and her vision filmed over, failing. Each step burned so badly surely her feet would crumble, charcoal bricks. She got to her knees and began ripping the buds out in fistfuls, tossing them away where they smoldered and smoked, red. The smoke stank, blinding her further, until there was just the white, and red, and the sheer malevolence that moved her to bury her briquette fingers into the ground and tear it all apart. It wasn’t good enough.
She wasn’t –
Remy blinked back to her present self, pulled from the flow by that smidgen of self expression. Detestable and distracted. As she said to Rue, this was why one had to be empty. Otherwise it didn’t work…
“Remy? Remy, what is wrong? Your breathing has accelerated, is this normal for this practice?”
It takes a while before Remy responds as she tries in vain to regain the empty focus required to ponder the things the Force had decided to show her. In all likelyhood, it was not something useful, but yet another vision of some vague future, some warning.
“You cannot choose what the Force shows you. If it brings pain or dark tidings, that is something you must be willing to accept. There is no true… normal, for this kind of thing. The Force has decided to show me something, but… these things require meditation and consideration for understanding.”
Her eyes open slightly, knowing that she would not likely have the chance to do that meditation at the moment.
“What about you, were you able to float away at all? Perception of time tends to warp when submerging this deeply in the Force, so I am unsure of exactly how long we have been here.”
Rue shook his head, which also drooped, failure written in his posture.
“This one did not experience any visions…perhaps the Goddess did not see it fit. The mediation with Remy was enjoyable, however. It has been…” his eyes skirted to the position of the bright sun above, “several hours. Approximately three. I would not mind sitting longer if Remy wishes. Or I could make her lunch while she continues?”
He smiled at her.
“No, that will not be necessary,” Remy said as she rose, “I was given something to ponder, but I am under no time limit. Time and patience is very important for this ability.”
She began to perform simple stretches, as she usually did after long periods of inaction. Looking around, she took note of the various parts of camp that seemed more geared to the home, rather than to the gardem.
“I could help you. I am not particularly good with food, but I can take orders well enough.”
Rue’s smile once again grew, his tail tip curling and flicking as he stood too. “I would like this. More hands are always welcome.”
So said, the hybrid began preparing their lunch, Remalia right at his side, efficiently chopping roots and mushrooms under Rue’s simple instruction. Alk stole as many bites as he wanted, the food came to a simmer over their little fire, and the waves sparkled with the dazzle of the sun that warmed Remy’s cool, alabaster skin.
In her mind, Rue sang softly the whole while: are you coming o'er the faire? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme…remember me, for one who lives there…
And Remy, just barely, whispered back: ppp…patience…
Rue’s smile was patient indeed.
For she once was a dead friend of mine…🎶