A Qixoni crystal hunt

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel kept himself to himself during the journey. He’d had no Master to guide him through the process of finding a crystal or assembling his saber. Not that he minded and he certainly was not going to fuss over Ara. He was here if she needed him, but so was an array of materials as well as any documentation the Ren had on the construction of a saber.

In his mind, his presence was a help but any more could prove a hindrance. There was something special about your own blade – and until you crafted one, you never understood that. And many Sith, Jedi and Ren alike did not like others even touching their saber, let alone use it.

Once they landed, Talon Ren knew from Ara’s disposition that she was ready – as well as confident. This boded well, given the process could take hours and sometimes days to complete.

He smiled at her quip. It was clearly her way with dealing with adversity, but it showed a generally positive disposition to things that were pitted against her – which was encouraging.

He remained silent until he had led them to a roof with a vantage point of the former mining facility. He gazed out at the molten lava, its significance not automatic to anyone not versed in Jedi and Sith lore.

“Somewhere out there,” his hand pointed to an indiscriminate point in the near distance, "The Rule of Two ended. Or rather, it was here that the beginning of the end began. Here is truly where Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader. It was here his horrific injuries forced the then Emperor to construct him artificial limbs. And yes, he was a loyal servant for much of his life – but in the end, it was his love for his son that shone through brightest.”

He turned to face Ara. “The best place to construct a saber? In truth a broom cupboard would do, but this vista has some majesty about it and the history adds to your own story.”

“And given you know what constitutes the construction of a saber, you will also have worked out what goes where. The process is simple if not laborious. Firstly you hold the crystal, either in your hand, or telekinetically in front of you. Then meditate and connect with the Force and connect with your crystal. You will know when the crystal is ready to be placed into a saber. This part is the slow part and I will stand nearby, keeping watch. The process could take any length of time.“

“And then, once you have all the pieces laid out in front of you, you assemble them using telekinesis. Finally, once you believe you have correctly assembled it, you may activate it. Trust me, the sensation will be unlike using any other blade you have held.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

As he led them onto a roof overlooking the abandoned mining facility, she resisted the urge to complain or give in to the anxiety that surged through her gut. She'd already conquered one fear that day and now she had a task to complete, fear had no place in her mind for the time being. She stepped up beside the armored man even as her gaze stayed on the roof beneath her feet rather than the rivers of lava surrounding them.

The rule of two? For a moment, she struggled to recall the old stories, the tales that had once decreed that there would always be balance between the Jedi and the Sith. So this planet of heat and molten rock was where the balance had ended, where one of the greatest wielders of the darkside had truly been born.

Ara glanced up once, the waves of heat distorting the expansive view, adding to her vertigo and forcing her to look away far before she would have liked. Turning to meet his gaze through the visor, her lip curled up in the smile of a cynic as Talon mentioned the love of a father and son. She hardly believed in the strength of family, but it was a story parents could tell their children as they grew into adulthood. The myth of the bond between parent and child burning eternal.

Shooting him a cold look as he mentioned her own history, she wondered how much the knight knew. She'd broken ties with her mother long before joining the Order and other than a name she was given at birth, little tied her back to the woman on Coruscant that shared her DNA. It wouldn't come as a surprise if she'd been vetted long before he'd taken her on as a disciple, and she found that she was less angry about him knowing her history than she should have been.

Such musings were pushed aside as he began instructing her in the creation of her saber. Connect with the crystal, assemble the parts, and finally activate the blade. As simple as it sounded, she knew the environment, the time, and the effort put into it, would exhaust her. Glancing at the armor he wore, she raised an eyebrow in question, but did not voice the thought that as uncomfortable as she might be, it would be him who would suffer through the process. She shook her head and set the bag of components down on the ground beside where they stood. He knew what he was doing when he'd chosen the molten planet for her construction, no doubt he would survive the laborious task as well as she.

Without a word, she pulled off her tunic and tabards, folding them and setting them next to the canvas bag. Once she was stripped down to a loose and light undershirt, pants, and boots, she settled into a cross-legged position on the platform.

Retrieving the crystal from the pocket of her tunic, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing on her connection with the force and the crystal. The dark presence emanating from the knight was a momentary distraction, her attention pulled between the pulsing crystal in her right hand and the presence behind her. Slowly she pushed aside all the distractions, the feeling of the heat pressing on her skin, the drip of sweat rolling down her neck, her arms, her collarbone; muscles so used to moving and running protested the act of staying still, twitching and begging for her to shift even just slightly to relieve herself of the uncomfortableness.

Eventually it was just her thoughts, her breathing, and the pulse of the blood-red crystal in her hand.

Opening herself up to the blanket of power around them, she smiled as the power of the force filled her, flowing through her veins and replacing fear and anxiety with dark desire and anticipation. The Qixoni crystal seemed to echo her own emotions, the hard surface warm to the touch and demanding her focus.

Talon had said to connect with the crystal using the force. In the cave it had reacted to her letting go of the control of her fear and her emotions, and so she did the same here.

Releasing the mask she'd built up through years of bravado and independence, the first emotion to wash over her was fear. The tendrils of fear crept up her esophagus, wrapped around her throat, and sent shivers down her spine. Her fear of heights was first in the forefront of her mind, never far from thought. It was easily replaced by the fear of failure. Memories of a fall from many stories high stole her breath and had her grip tightening around the rock in her hand. It pulsed in response, feeding on the Force she channeled as more and more fears flitted through her mind, only to be replaced by the next.

Anger followed fear. Anger at herself. Anger at her mother. Anger at the universe. The burning coals of rage that were never quite banked roared to life, fanned by the oppressive heat of the planet surrounding her. Just as with fear, each memory and thought flitted through her mind to be replaced by another, the power snapping and swirling as she channeled more to fuel her passion.

Passion. Determination. Envy. Greed. Vanity. Pride. Even desperation took their turns. Eventually the growth of power slowed and the crystal reverberated with power, no longer absorbing but waiting.

She opened her eyes, floating the crystal in front of her with a small smile. She didn't know how long it had been, but she was long covered in sweat, her clothes soaked through, muscles gone numb from lack of movement.

One by one, the components she'd picked from the ship were removed from the bag to hover in front of her by invisible threads of power. Each piece fit into another like a puzzle, the glowing crystal the pulse. Once the bag was empty and each piece exactly were she wanted it, hilt connected together with a few clicks and a hiss, the finished piece suspended in the air at the same level as her heart. The curved hilt gleamed with piece of silver and obsidian, but there was one more defining feature to complete.

Focusing on the silver wrapped around the handle, she pictured an invisible blade carving a swirling pattern from the obsidian plate at the bottom, scrolling up to the emitter. Layers of silver flaked to the ground as the hilt carved itself, a delicate but intricate design appearing with each invisible scrape of the Force.

When she was satisfied with the result, she opened her palm, the hilt falling to rest in it lightly.

With a thought and pulse of power, she activated it, the amber glow lighting blending with the orange and red flames in the distance until she couldn't tell where her blade ended and the backdrop of Mustafar began.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Sometimes the role of the master was superfluous. On occasion, the Knight felt oddly out of place in his Disciple’s progression.

This was such a time.

He stood calm and impassive, his mind feeding on the pain the extreme heat was subjecting his body to. The suit was designed to assist his many burns, not to regulate his temperature. Here, the intense heat of the lava was drying out his skin and his burns were blistering and weeping.

But he was a Knight of Ren and he was here should his Disciple need him. He reflected that she would be a Knight herself soon. Her prowess in constructing her saber was reflective of her overall abilities – she had mastered so many that she could no longer be considered a Disciple.

Like Ara, he had no sense of how long he stood there, only that the pain fuelled his anger and that in turn honed his control of the Force. His mask stared blankly into the distance but his eyes were shut, his mind manipulating the Force as if it were clay, seeing what shape he could mould it in to, how much he could stretch it before it broke. It was an unexpected bonus to his vigil and a welcome one.

Finally his concentration was broken by the Force itself that alerted him to the present. Opening his eyes, he saw Ara conclude the construction of her saber. He had to admit the hilt was a work of beauty and if it handled half as well as it looked, it would be a formidable weapon.

“You have done well, my young apprentice,” he said, the monotone voice belying his obvious pride in the craftsmanship. “Use it wisely and use it decisively. And remember, it is not the weapon, you are. It is but an extension of you.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The saber in her grip pulsed with a myriad of emotions imbued by its master. Despite the surrounding heat, the metal of the hilt felt cool in her hand, the grooves of the carvings small bumps felt against the rough skin of her palm. Unlike the training sabers, this one was alive with the power of the force, fueled by the power of the crystal combined with the Disciple.

Spinning the blade in an arc, careful of her seated position and the Knight behind her, she smiled as it moved with smooth precision. The weight and curve fit in her grasp perfectly, the blade neither too light nor too heavy.

Talon Ren’s voice broke through her admiration of the newly constructed weapon. Pushing her feet under her and turning, she stood, wobbling on legs that were long asleep from lack of movement. Even with the crackle and synthetic sound of the vocalizer, Ara could hear the undertone of pride in his words. A faint blush colored her cheeks, the disciple bowing deeply from the waist.

”Thank you, Master.”

She straightened from the bow, a thought quickly extinguishing the blade. For a moment, she considered clipping it to her belt, but instead kept the metal in her hand, savoring the feel of its weight in her grip for a while longer.

”I will not forget.” Her gaze focused on his mask, meeting what she assumed would be his through the dark visor. ”I am what you have made me, a weapon, for the Order. Thank you.” Her eyes shifted to the side, her blush slightly stronger as she offered appreciation for his time and training a second time that day.

Was it even the same day as when they’d started? Nothing about the environment around them gave clue to how much time had passed.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

“Your progress has been sure and I am truly honoured your time as a Disciple was spent with me. I sense that time is due to come to an end soon. I shall always be here for further training, but your time as a Ren will soon take a new direction.”

“Be ready for it and embrace it.”

He looked off into the distance again before turning to face his ship. “I sense we will return here soon enough, but for now, there is no need to remain in this oppressive heat.” It was the first time he’d ever complained about anything in front of Ara, which must have reflected the measure of discomfort he was enduring. And with that he strode towards the still lowered landing ramp.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Ducking her head in a small bow at his praise, she nodded, accepting his offer for training despite the change in their working relationship. If Talon believed she was reaching the end of her tenure as a disciple, she had no reason to doubt that his prediction would become a reality.

”Thank you, Master, I will be. Any and all training you can offer will be welcome and appreciated.”

His admittance of discomfort had her tilting her head in thought, her gaze lingering on his back as he strode towards the ship in the distance. This time, she did clip the new weapon onto her belt, the heavy weight pulling the leather tighter around her left hip, a strange but not uncomfortable feeling.

The disciple followed the armored and masked man towards the ship, as eager as her master to escape the furnace of Mustafar. Their steps on the boarding ramp echoed, the cool air escaping the ship a beautiful respite from the heat.

Her cloak was still folded on the navigator’s chair and now her jacket and over-shirt joined it. Clad only in a thin tank top, pants, and boots, she glanced over at the man wearing far most cumbersome and intrusive clothing than herself. She had never seen him without his signature helmet and layers of armor, now she idly wondered if it was out of personal preference or necessity. There was only one way to find out.

”Would you not be far more comfortable shedding a few of those layers yourself?”

She eyed the outfit speculatively, her tone slightly flirty at the suggestion, a habit that was hard to break even now.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Kriel strode up the ramp – he knew that it offered no great comfort to be on his ship, it’s medical facilities were not equipped to treat him burns in the inflamed state they were in. But at least away from the oppressive heat, his suit’s coolants could ensure the pain would not get any worse.

He made a mental note to have his suit upgraded to deal with environments like this. A prolonged time here would definitely sap his strength and endurance.

He noted that Ara had dispensed with unnecessary layers as he began to work the ship’s controls, eager to get into space and to plot a course back to the Citadel. He didn’t so much envy her as reflect on how he would need to turn this disadvantage into a positive in some way.

He heard her question but continued to fire up the ship and take off from the planet before he responded. Once upon a time, he would have been a predator in this situation – alert to the possibilities of the environment and their circumstances.

But that was Kriel Firin and he was Talon Ren.

“No,” he responded curtly, before adding in a measured tone, “It is not as simple as that. This suit is not a disguise, or even necessarily body armour – although it serves both purposes. The reason I wear it all the time is because I have to. I once crashed in a ship. I was the only survivor, but my deliverance came at a cost. My body is covered with burns and although not life-threatening, the suit regulates the moisture of my skin. The constant pain is a reminder of how close I came to death, and a way of ensuring I am always connected to the dark side. On one hand a disadvantage, on the other a plus. It’s all a matter of perspective.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

As Talon initiated the take-off sequence, Ara settled into the chair, crossing her legs, and leaning against the cloak folded over the back. Her posture said relaxed, except for the knuckles gripped around her new saber hilt and eyes that studiously avoided looking anywhere save for her master, her hands, and the navigation panel.

His curt answer had her eyebrows winging up, she couldn’t remember a time when he’d responded to a question with anything approaching emotion. As he continued speaking, his tone evened out, the slight bit of emotion all but gone as he spoke of his injuries and the crash that caused them.

Her gaze flashed to the glass window, acutely aware of their craft’s trajectory. Her anxiety towards flying was, and always would be, present, the Knight’s words doing little good to reassure her that space travel was safe.

”If we ever start to crash, kill me first. Please.”

The comment could be taken as a joke if one pleased, but her tone was level and deathly serious. She had no desire to relive the sensation of hurtling through the air knowing what pain was about to befall when you finally hit the ground, nor did she wish to survive with such extensive injuries.

Glancing down at the hilt in her hand, thumbs tracing the designs etched into the metal as a way to occupy her mind. Nerves ate away at her stomach as they travelled, the struggle to keep her voice steady also taking her attention away from the fear that was always with her.

”Perspective is all well and good, but there is something to be said for comfort. You say it is not life-threatening, why not remove your helmet at least?” Raising an eyebrow in his direction, she thought on his words, wondering where her own boldness had come from.

He used his pain to fuel his connection with the Dark Side, just as the anger and fear swirling within her did the same for the disciple. It was the first time they’d spoken of anything remotely personal in the time she’d known him and she was eager to learn more.

”Do you ever wish you had not survived the crash?”

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

It was not until she spoke again that he realised the impact of his revelation. Telling someone that is afraid of flying that your injuries were the result of a terrible ship crash in which you were the only survivor was never going to put them at ease.

But it was the truth, and she had asked.

“I’m not entirely sure how you start to crash,” he responded — and even through his vocaliser, an element of humour was apparent in his tone. “I mean, one moment you’re flying and then you’re not. And as to finding time in-between to consider killing anyone? Not an option.”

His gaze had not left the controls as he ensured the ship left the planet’s surface and headed into the outer atmosphere, so it could enter hyperspace.

And once he punched in the codes, he removed his helmet. There was no great fanfare involved, a few catches opened and it was easy to take off. And under it was a head that had some hair and all of the expected features - but the majority of what was visible was burned skin. And the time spent on Mustafar had clearly taken its toll as the burns looked dry and angry — clearly causing Talon Ren pain. But how much and if it were more than usual it would be impossible to deduce.

His breathing without the respirator sounded laboured but steady. And for the first time she heard his voice unfiltered. It sounded…normal.

“And no, it never occurred to me to die. There were plenty of opportunities, but I chose life. And I have never regretted it. It has made me what I am today — and for that I am grateful.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Spoiler

Sorry for the unexpected LOA, RL sucks sometimes.

Her eyebrows winged up in surprise, lips curling into a smile as humor crept into his voice, the first time she’d ever heard the rather stoic knight crack a joke.

”Fancy that, Talon Ren actually has a sense of humor.”

Her own voice was tinted with humor and a light undertone of teasing, the disciple pleased that they’d moved away from the stiff and formal relationship of Master and Apprentice onto something slightly more relaxed. Her mouth opened to add her own snark to his proclamation of lack of time to kill her should they begin to crash, when he removed his helmet, much to her chagrin.

Underneath the burned tissue, dry, angry skin aggravated by the heat of the planet they’d just left, the disciple could make out the features of someone who was once attractive. Tilting her head, she examined his face with a level gaze, eyes neither filled with pity nor repulsed, merely intrigued. The red skin was obviously inflamed, the burns a pain she could only imagine. Her estimation of him increased tenfold as she watched him endure the pain with very little signs of discomfort, his labored breathing a result of the aggravated wounds or normal, she was unsure.

His voice, when he spoke, was as normal as one would expect. It was a shock to the system after weeks, months, of associating him with the electronic and cracking sound of a vocalizer. She nodded once with his words, weighing them in her mind. Like him, she had chosen life over death and did not regret it. Although, she’d walked away from her accident physically unscathed. How would she survive if she was in his shoes, disfigured and in a constant state of agony?

Without a word, she got up, her stomach lurching as she adjusted to the ship’s movement combined with her own. A quick search of the small hull found a small medical facility and kitchenette. Untrained in any sort of healing or medical skills, she gathered a few things she could only imagine would help. Soft towels, a bottle of purified water, a glass, and some ointment she’d seen slathered on burns in one of her trips to the medical centre on Avalonia. While the ointment might not be designed to treat extensive wounds, surely it could help relieve her master of some of the immediate pain he was in.

Resuming her seat in the navigator’s chair, she raised an eyebrow at him in silent question.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Talon Ren’s eyebrows — if he had any — would have been raised at this point. Or at least one of them. “Humour? Perhaps. It’s been some time since I had anything to be the subject of mirth. My life is dedicated to the First Order, I have no time for social interaction. At least for now.”

As he focused on the journey ahead, he noted Ara’s disappearance but paid it no heed. Maybe the view from the cockpit was disconcerting? Maybe the view inside was not palatable? Regardless, he focused on his tasks and allowed her free run of the ship to do whatever she wanted or required.

So he was slightly surprised when she returned and had the medical equipment to hand. The pain he was used to, he even welcomed it at times. But the skin could become infected easily and that represented a health issue.

So he nodded as she looked at him questioningly. “If you don’t mind, it would be greatly appreciated. I can’t always see what I’m doing or where needs tending. Usually a droid does this for me at the Citadel.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Tilting her head slightly at his response, she frowned. Personally, she always found a way to enjoy the company of others, even if she’d dedicated herself to the Ren and the First Order.

”How can the order expect us to work as a team if we hardly know each other?”

Raising one of her own eyebrows, she met his gaze, her tone slightly teasing, but with a serious undertone. How were they to work as a unit if their interactions were limited to training disciples, as Talon was doing with her, or with those times they were assigned together to complete some mission for the Supreme Leader?

Ducking her head once with a satisfied grin, she set to work cleaning the irritated skin to the best of her ability. The only experience the disciple had with tending wounds were her own feeble attempts to patch herself up after a fist fight or particularly nasty tumble in her younger years. Rarely did she have more than clean water and a few scraps of fabric to wrap the injuries. And so, she approached her task with caution, his reactions to her ministrations the only indication that she wasn’t causing more harm than good.

Working in comfortable silence, she focused on each movement with a steadfast determination, the repetitive activity giving her mind something other than her own anxiety to dwell on. When she was satisfied that she’d successfully managed to apply ointment to the visible skin, she set the towel and ointment off to the side, curling back up in the chair that was hers for this particular journey. A glance out the window of the cockpit had a shudder rolling down her spine, immediately drawing her attention back to her master for a welcome diversion.

”Surely, the Citadel’s medical staff would be happy to care for your wounds if you had need.”

The statement was said with the inflection of a question, her expression thoughtful. She wondered what drove someone to utilize droids instead of the trained and skilled medical personal the Order provided.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Talon Ren’s head tilted slightly to one side. It was a valid question and not one he’d ever considered. His time with the Ren and the First Order was one of compliance. Free thought was a dangerous path to go down. It was the way of the Sith and led to individual agendas and goals and ultimately to in-fighting and a lack of order and control.

But her question was still valid and definitely deserved an answer. It was just he wasn’t sure he was the best person to respond to it.

“As long as we follow the same goals, and can trust each other with our backs, I’m not convinced that personal knowledge is essential. I cannot see any harm in it, for sure, but neither can I see it as some absolute requirement.”

It was clear from his unfiltered voice that he was not convinced by the argument either way.

He then relaxed as she tended to his inflamed skin and given they had just entered hyperspace, he was able to release control of the ship to the astro-droid.

“I am sure they would — but sometimes there is a benefit of being an enigma. You are the only Ren to have seen me since my injuries without my helmet. I do not make a habit of removing it. Even medical staff talk and I appreciate the lack of surety when people wonder who I really am. Who is the person behind the mask? What you see now has a shock factor, but it is short-lived. A secret that remains a secret is by definition, enduring.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Raising an eyebrow, she was surprised when he answered the mostly rhetorical question she’d posed. The answer itself was not, she’d already surmised that he was less social than many of their order, having seen him little outside of their training sessions and the occasional mission. Since he neither seemed perturbed nor bothered by her question, she ventured a bit farther, interested less in changing his mind and more in genuine conversation.

”Can you truly trust another at your back without personal knowledge?”

A thoughtful look accompanied the comment as her hands continued tending his wounds. It was not in her nature to trust explicitly. Trust was something hard won and easily destroyed. Too many past betrayals left utter trust a foreign concept to the disciple.

Although, they were hardly talking of unconditional trust. They were speaking of trust in battle, in each other as they worked towards a unified goal. She supposed that such trust had already been afforded by her to the Ren in the simple act of joining their order and their cause. The man in front of her had earned her esteem in his actions and dedication to her training. A surprised smile crossed her face and she inclined her head once, acknowledging his point as her own mind realized that she had done exactly as he’d said, given trust without personal knowledge.

From her seat, she listened, crossing her legs under her as she settled in. Eyes widening incredulously as he admitted to rarely taking his helmet off, ducking her head in the slightest of bows. His admission brought a whole host of questions bubbling to the surface, her eyes inspecting him again, searching for minute clues that might give her more insight into his reasons for opening up to her. Little could be discerned and she turned her attention away from her Master, gaze falling onto the window and space beyond, but hardly seeing it.

A soft smile curled up one side of her mouth, eyes darkening for a moment. She understood masks. Where his was literal, hers was figurative, the socialite and flirt a shell to cover the true thoughts and emotions constantly swirling within.

Few saw past the attractive smile and purr to the calculating looks beneath. It was amazing the amount and nature of information someone would let slip through their lips if they assumed you were just a pretty face. It was a tactic she utilized often, eyes and ears missing little as tongues wagged and information flowed. He used his mask differently than she did, choosing to intimidate and sow confusion in his enemies, and allies, alike.

Propping on elbow on the armrest, she set her chin on her hand, still thoughtful. For a moment, she considered questioning the reasons he’d chosen to reveal such a delicate secret to her. Even the bond of disciple and master did not warrant the revelation.

”It certainly cuts an intimidating silhouette. The mysterious Talon Ren.”

Her mouth curled up into a wolfish grin as humor and appreciation snuck into her tone, her own mask slipping back into place even if it had never fully disappeared.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Talon Ren nodded as Ara spoke. “I would trust anyone in the Order with my life. But I would only trust one or two with a secret. It is the latter that requires true trust. You are counted in that number and I cannot see it growing in size any time too. Being part of a Master-Disciple pairing affords me an insight into your character that years of a casual acquaintance would not.”

“And my facade allows me the luxury of withholding personal information without appearing aloof or simply rude. ‘That’s just Talon Ren for you’ people would say. Just as people misjudge you — as you wish. Your act is a convincing one and I do not pretend to know your personality intimately. And that tells its own story. Most will never understand you even have a veneer — and that is testament to the quality of your mask.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

”The trust you place in me is honored, but not unquestioned.”

Casting him a sidelong glance, she wodnered if he understood her words. While she might never understand his reasons for confiding in her, something inside valued his trust more than she should.

Her chin settled comfortably in her hand, she nodded once. It surprised her more that he trusted her with his secret as opposed to the fact that he’d seen through her façade. An inclination of the head accepted his comment, the grin she wore morphing into something a little darker.

”I should be surprised, but somehow I am not.”

A soft chuckle accompanied her turn to face him. Dropping her hand into her lap, she straightened, watching him warily, wondering exactly how much he had seen. For a moment, she considered denying his observations, but she would not insult her master in such a way. He was correct and they both knew it, no point in denying the truth or hiding behind empty words.

”I will take that as the highest of compliments, thank you. I learned long ago that a pretty face and a few flattering words could get you further than even money can. No one expects a knife in the ribs while you are sipping champagne and dancing the night away. Men, and women to be fair, let the most interesting pieces of information slip when they think you are interested.”

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

Talon Ren was aware that he had never opened up to Are in this way before — and in truth not to any other Ren. If he’d given it more thought, he’d realise he’d never been this candid since he was a young man back on Bespin.

He was changing as a person — maturing perhaps? The boy was in the very distant past, but manhood had been at best a loose mantle and only now, as he approached the rank of Master, did he truly understand his role in the galaxy and how he fitted into everyone else’s life. It had been a very long proverbial journey but not the end was in sight. He could sense it.

“Flattery is so easily visible to bystanders but for some reason is invisible to the prey. Everyone likes to think they are above being fooled but in truth, the ego is so easily massaged that way too many are easy to manipulate. When I had a pretty face, I used it as you do now. And were it not for the accident, I would still be I guess.”

“Use it wisely but sparingly. Don’t let it be your only weapon, but don’t discard it as a tool either. But as you progress through to Knight and then to Master, it will be less viable as an option, so learn new option now and not when it’s too late.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Still watching him with rapt attention, her mouth quirked into a small, self-satisfied smile as her suspicions about his features before the accident were confirmed. His comments about using it in the same way as his disciple did not go unnoticed, her lids lowering slightly, a past anger flickering across her irises.

”I doubt we used it in the same way, but yes, it cannot be the only tool in my arsenal, I agree. It is why I appreciate the lessons you have given me, it is a way to survive, to thrive, without depending on the…good graces of others.”

Bitterness crept into her tone, the cynicism inside surfacing for the briefest of moments. Her gaze shifted away from his for a moment, silence following his statement.

”I do not plan on depending on looks or flattery to get me where I need to go, although it proves a valuable distraction. I will follow your advice, as well as your teachings.”

Pausing for a moment, she settled back against the chair, anxiety about their trip all but gone from her mind as she learned more about the man behind the mask. Perhaps the heat from Mustafar had gotten to her, or their candidness with each other made her braver than she’d been before, her curiosity overriding common sense.

”What brought you to the Ren? To the First Order?”

Perhaps he would chastise her for prying into his past or simply wave the question off, but the words were out of her mouth before she could regret them. Besides, regret was rarely her way. She’d asked and he’d answer or not as he found fit.

[member="Kriel Firin"]

 

[Kriel Firin]

For some time now, Talon Ren had been the perfect Master. The perfect teacher. His every thought and action was based upon maximising his Disciple’s progress and getting the best return for the Knights of Ren. His own thoughts rarely came into it and even when they did, he never shared them. It was not, he believed, his place.

But he was not here to produce automatons, he now mused. Ara was living proof of that. And he owed it to her to be honest, to share his concerns and support — even if they conflicted with some of the standard teachings. If she were to lay down her life for the First Order, it should be willingly and not though nothing but mindless obedience, as the troopers were trained to do.

“If I have offended, it is because you need to know the truth. Take or leave them, they are my opinion and nothing more. But at least hear them.”

“And your openness deserves a response in kind. I was raised on Bespin. Cloud City to be precise. A spoilt little rich kid. I got into petty crime and I enjoyed it. I didn’t know I was Force sensitive back then, I just figured I was quicker and luckier than the rest. Then the First Order came to claim the planet and the rest is history.”

“So, I’ve shown you mine, now it’s your turn.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

”Not offended, merely…cautious. You have yet to do or say anything that was not to my benefit, I would be a fool to stop listening now.”

Lips quirked up into a smirk she cast his way, nodding in acknowledgement. The anger and bitterness in her tone stemmed from past experiences, none of which related to her time with the Order nor under the tutelage of her master. Setting such thoughts aside, she listened, her smirk growing as he spoke of a rich boy drawn to crime.

Their pasts were similar in many ways, despite their difference in status. Rich would never be a word she attributed to herself or her home, her turn to crime one of necessity and driven by the foolish desire to please someone who was incapable of more than selfishness.

Fingers curling inward, nails digging into the sensitive skin of her palm as she considered what, and how much to share. He was right, such openness from him deserved the same in return out of respect if nothing else.

”I was born and raised in the slums of Coruscant. My mother was addicted to drugs and I spent most of my childhood scavenging, stealing even, to support her habits. I was good at it, not out of enjoyment but of necessity. After… a very close call with death, I found a way out of that life. Using my looks and charms to make a living.”

The mask fell back into place, eyes that sparkled with mirth and a dazzling smile turned on the man beside her to punctuate her words.

”Somewhere in the mix, someone noticed that I was…better than most, very similarly to the way they found you.”

A simple shrug accompanied the blunt words, her expression settling back into one of easy curiosity and conversation.

[member="Kriel Firin"]