BRIDGE OMEGA
@
Sargon Vynea @
Lucien Cordel @
Jared Ovmar @
Lucianus Adair @
Kiyala Demont @
Iella E`ron @
Talon Vosra @
Ane'irna @
Arumi Zy @Je'Gan Orla'en
"First, Friend Alei, you must do no harm." Boolon had told her. "Each thing, from the humblest seed to the mightiest beasts, have this much in common - they are born with but one life, a sacred thing. To take something's life is the basest crime."
That hadn't stopped her from doing for Velok, though.
"Hasn't pacifism created a great deal of hardship for you, Master?" She'd asked timidly, still afraid of asking questions. Still her first day, really - she'd been a youngling for years, but that first day in the Gardens was the moment from which Aleidis Ijet honestly considered herself a Jedi. "Being a Jedi Knight, refusing to kill?"
He'd laughed at her, then. The deep, booming and stereophonic sound of an Ithorian's mirth - and since then, no sound had ever sounded so pure as Boolon Murr's laughter. If she were to define purity, it would be that man.
"Friend Alei, if I had blood on my hands, every day would be a hardship."
-~-
The fates had ever conspired to bless Aleidis Ijet in life, no matter how little she realized it. Wandering Jedi had discovered her, and taken her to Coruscant with her parent's blessing. She'd been paired with a master most perfectly suited to teaching her - a Knight who would not harm a sentient being, with a girl who's biology meant that she would never be a warrior. A dormant power had marked her for greatness, and drawn her to him so that he might teach her abilities he would trust no one else with. A girl had been put in her path, who had at first been her truest friend, then most fervent protector. Fate had blessed her with the charisma to win the hearts of the Republic, and the earnest goodwill to ardently spread a web of peace across the Galaxy. The Jedi had named her Barsen'Thor - a Jedi among Jedi, a paragon of self-sacrifice and virtue.
On her homeworld, Datar, there was a saying - that one led 'a life of clear nights', implying that the stars themselves shone to light her path and illuminate what steps she should take towards her destiny.
Despite all that she'd lost; her rule, her fellowship with the Jedi and her faith in the political machine of the Republic, Aleidis could never fault herself for not following that unerring path that aligned so perfectly with her moral compass.
It was this path that'd brought her to O'reen, bidden by none but her own sense of justice and insistence to see her works undone from a front-row seat. The Republic's unstoppable warmongering and land-grabbing had brought them into conflict with the Fringe, against a woman who'd once come to Coruscant personally and in secret to take measure of her. Against a woman who'd promised the Fringe had no designs on the Republic, and who had thus far delivered on that promise.
And this was back when the Treaty of Ithor was still forming, whispers; a conspiracy and tinkle in the eyes of an Ithorian and his protege. Admiral Karrde had kept up her end of the promises made on that
windy balcony, and Aleidis had been disposed of. And the moment the Republic had been rid of her, they'd set to ruining all that she'd ever worked for. As if she'd just let them use the Jedi as a fel blade to cut down the very concepts of peace and acceptance that the egalitarian Republic was built upon.
Likely, none knew Aleidis had arrived save for a single man and a single woman - one who could use the White Current better than she could, and the other who maintained a blood link to the Ghostling. A Ghost moved as she willed, passed through all attempts to foil her progress. What wall could hold back what might not exist?
Who could sense what wasn't there to begin with?
The White Current had blessed Aleidis Ijet in many ways - being invisible to all senses (mundane and otherwise) while simultaneously being undetectable by droids and cameras was a useful skill to have when a single punch could destroy your body completely. Thankfully, Aleidis Ijet had been blessed in other ways: a woman who styled herself the Ghostling's foster mother had given her a belt she now wore under her drab grey robes, which raised her stamina and durability to that of any other girl her age. And a wrinkled, weary man in a worn hat had given her something besides his Fallanasi secrets - esoteric forms of Makashi. The martial and mental prowess to duel a monster like Velok - and win.
So perhaps Arumi Zy could have been forgiven if he hadn't seen the lithe young woman picking her way through the battle like a silver weasel, weaving and dodging to avoid making contact. Truth be told, the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order and the last dozen Sith Emperors wouldn't have been able to find her, either. Such was the way of the White Current, and the habits of a Ghost.
Her lightfoil thrummed to life, the green glow displaying another of her gifts - a unique crystal of the highest quality, which had once been housed in the lightsaber of none other than Yoda, himself. Like the skills Je'Gan had taught her, Aleidis liked to think that the Force had given the crystal to her on Dagobah to help her on the path to bring peace to the Galaxy - knowing that she would think twice, then twice again before taking a life.
She was not aiming to take Arumi Zy's life today. In fact, Aleidis suspected that Je'Gan Olra'en could likely handle two of Arumi's measure without putting himself out too much. The fact that Je'Gan was still using Soresu was testament enough to that fact - the man was like a surly old tomcat. He wandered and wanted for company, but rankled when you tried to pet him. Murder was as closely tied to his idea of constructive nurturing as to be intertwined, which made his staunch seat on the side of Light puzzling to anyone who didn't know him indepth. And while Aleidis would modestly suggest that Je'Gan's wife, Tahira, knew him as well or better than she did, Aleidis had shared every waking moment with the man for five years. At times, she'd shared her body - at times surrendering her physical form to the spirit of the old master she'd worn around her neck in crystal form for five years, so that he might feel what it was like to walk in the sun, eat, swim and enjoy the small pleasures of life (Albeit through her skin). Aleidis would modestly suggest that Tahira Solo knew Je'Gan better than she did, but she privately maintained that she knew him better yet.
Je'Gan, Aleidis decided, was toying with Arumi while he made up his mind - he was either unsure of his reasons for being there and biding his time (doubtful) or enjoying the single-minded purpose a battle provided and was toying with his foe (more likely). His talents would be better used elsewhere, and he knew it. She knew it. If the Fringe had half the sense she'd credited Admiral Karrde with, he'd be doing something with more impact upon the battle than swinging his saber around in circles. Unless, like her, he was here because he wanted to be.
-~-
The small Ghostling didn't appreciate what some poets called the 'purity of battle'. It was an ugly, noisy thing, regardless of what scale - a duel of two, or two hundred thousand. And while it was beyond rude to interrupt the sanctity of a duel between Masters, honor in combat wasn't something Aleidis Ijet had ever been taught, or had seen fit to learn.
The black-eyed girl shimmered into plain sight behind Arumi Zy for half a heartbeat, slipping between beams of light - and for a moment, she felt the world still and hold it's breath as she prepared a strike. She could kill him, Aleidis knew. Between herself and Je'Gan, there were likely no men who could long stand in combat. She could maim him as easily as kill him, but to maim him would be the same as death out here amidst the chaos and confusion of war. Were he maimed, Je'gan - who took no issue with taking lives - might well decide to kill him and be done with it now that his sport was done.
"Friend Alei, if I had blood on my hands, every day would be a hardship."
Quick as a flash, robes fluttering, Aleidis whipped around to the Darkside Master's flank, her lightfoil spinning in nimble circles and dips. She fluttered back into sight, to draw her opponent's focus - all the better to vex his blade with ancient Makashi, the form of duelists taught to her by Je'gan himself, and spin that lightsaber from his grasp. Even Je'gan would hesitate to kill an unarmed man, Aleidis reasoned/hoped. By any laws of war that were yet respected in the Galaxy, he would be taken prisoner - but left alive.
And on any day of the week, alive was a damnsight better than dead.
