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Private Children of Shiraya: Paths of Ruin [Part 2]


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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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Cybelle stayed where she was, seated, on the couch.

Tawny eyes remained glued to the low coffee table for a long moment while her heart felt a less than pleasing modicum of confusion As Brandyn saw his associate out. She didn't know what to think about the sudden arrival of the Countess. It wasn't as if she had a right to be bothered by it. Brandyn had friends. He should. Cybelle was happy that he had people that cared about him. It was important—But she couldn't help but feel like something was amiss. The thought was subtle, translucent, and slow to form. Like a soap bubble.

Easily broken.

She could just barely start making out the shape of it during the conversation. Then—The thought burst. Gone. If only she might have spent just a little more time around Velda Nar-Donna she might have been able to put two and two together. At the moment, however, she just had more unanswered questions that left little burning holes in their wake. The young woman felt her gaze drift toward the window while she buried them for the moment. There would be a time and a place. Somehow, she knew this wasn't it. "Did you have a present for me?", Cybelle asked gently, slowly, turning back toward Bran. The smile that she settled on seemed to be tender in all ways. It was an expression that seemed to be all for him. A touch playful, but, with an edge of sweet softness.

A ray of sunshine, livelier, than all the stars in the Cluster had to offer.

The gift that Cybelle referred to was her lightsaber. This was the longest she could remember being without it. Truthfully, it felt strange. She hadn't been certain that she would have been permitted to have it at the Gala and had thought it prudent to have the head of security hang on to it for her. If she needed it, or he needed her, neither would be far away from where they belonged. Warm chocolate orbs followed Brandyn with a deep-seated sense of concern. Something didn't feel right. Even now, she felt a chill in the beautiful, bright light of day. A shiver that ran unhurriedly down her spine.

Shadow.

They hadn't had the chance to really catch up with one another. She had so much to tell him—But something about his presence felt heavy no matter the blithe expression. If she had to put the sensation into words it reminded her of heavy storm clouds. A deep shade of grey-blue where they'd become so full of water condensate water that they might erupt into torrential rainfall.

She remembered the way he looked from across the crowded dance floor.

There were plenty of frightened faces. She couldn't say that Brandyn looked scared, exactly, but it was definitely an expression she was far from familiar with. It told her everything and nothing all at the same time. "I spoke with Master Aegis. She'll be headed to the Core to help care for the wounded…I think John intends to go with her. He has a few offices and holdings in Galactic City. They don't know if they were affected yet…"

Her words were a peace offering of information that might give him a moment to breathe. He seemed…All right—All things considered. Tired. But with enough energy to entertain both the Countess and keep their appointment. Cybelle didn't know how to help yet. It was good news that a skilled healer was headed toward ground zero, but, that also lent to the severity of the situation.

"She promised to keep me updated with anything they find."

Specifically, about the New Way.

The young woman drew a deep breath before reaching out to switch the muted Holo-Net News off to keep it from interrupting. The images were startling enough and it was present on every channel. Cybelle scooted over and patted the empty seat next to her on the couch. "…Come here, Bran."

Come to me, please.

"Talk to me…I'm here."
 

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Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard Lightsaber
Location: Brandyn's apartment
Tag: Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance


Brandyn stood at the door a moment, the hard durasteel construct seeming like a place he would very much like to lean his head and occasionally knock on with said head. Through the Force, Brandyn sensed a bit of turmoil in Cybelle, who stood behind him. Could he blame her? This new thing they were exploring between them was still yet undefined beyond their clear mutual affection, and Brandyn's probably far to premature declarations. Here had been a noble woman of stature, both in status and physique, that had been all but doting on Brandyn in front of Cybelle. It was an invasion of his former life into the new in which he had yet to find his feet. He imagined Cybelle would feel as though she was stumbling as well.

And then there was the matter co-opting the majority of his conscious and subconscious thought. Baros Sal-Soren.

Cybelle's words snapped Brandyn out of his stupor. A gift. Brandyn flushed red. He didn't remember saying anything about a gift. He turned slowly, eyes avoiding contact with hers, as he sought his apparently leaking brain for something, anything that he had promised.
"Ah...yeah..."

He glanced about at the room, mostly just decor that had been standard on a furnished apartment like this. The only thing that really made this room uniquely Brandyn's was the statue of Shiraya on the mantel over the faux-fireplace, and for some reason a red Mandalorian helmet resting on the floor at the end of the couch. Seeing the security cabinet across the room finally jogged his memory.

"...of course. I will get if it for you." By the time he had returned the light saber, Cybelle begun to unravel what she knew of the attack and the help going to those on Coruscant.

Had it not been for the direct connection with his father, Brandyn might have almost forgotten completely about the attack. The realization made him just a little ashamed that the suffering of so many wasn't enough to occupy his thoughts. He found himself avoiding eye contact again even as he returned the saber-hilt to its rightful owner.


"It will be good to have some eyes and ears on the ground there. It must be awful...those poor people..."

He trailed off even as he stepped past Cybelle towards the console beyond the young Jedi Knight. Brandyn was aware that she wanted to talk, even hearing her sit down and invite him to join her. He knew it would be for the best, probably. But the mixture of foolishness, despair and shame pulled him away from divulging everything. He had just done so to Aiden...and it had not helped.

Leaning against the computer console, he heard her words as if on repeat. But Brandyn was nothing if not stubborn. With a couple of flicks on the screen, Brandyn pulled up a compilation of slow-tempo Nabooian folk instrumentals. The music was soothing, a reminder of more innocent times. Times where there was less...complication.


"Why sit?" Brandyn said, as he turned and took a deep breath before stepping towards Cybelle and extending a hand, "when I have not yet had a chance to dance with the most beautiful girl at the Royal Hapan Charity Gala?"

Holding her close was really all he wanted at this moment, and it also meant not having to look into deep-brown eyes that he never wanted to see hurt or wounded, eyes that somehow tore away at every edifice of pride and surety that he had built. They could still talk. He could still hold her. But perhaps he wouldn't cry.

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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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Her mild smile deepened when Brandyn dodged her gaze, flustered, by her question. Were it not for a steady sense of concern that was mounting she might have taken the moment to appreciate the fact that he was the one turning red for once. It made him look younger than he was. As she accepted her blade back, she felt an intense sensation of relief. The hilt sat in her open palm for a moment before she slowly let it tilt—Watching while it seemingly tumbled before her hand moved and caught it midspin.

Cybelle held it for a moment before moving the soft fabric of the pale green tunic she wore so that she might slip it into the hidden holster on her thigh. It fell back into place, seamlessly, and her sights turned back to Brandyn. She found herself watching him, perhaps, too often. There were so many things she didn't know about him and her way of learning had always begun with steady observation. The auburn-haired woman had never considered opening her heart to anyone. Firstly, it was technically forbidden in the eyes of many of her peers. Second?

It was confusing. Terrifying—And distracting.

But…It was different, with Brandyn. It wasn't the nightmare she had expected it to be. It was a dream. The newness left her feeling uncertain, but there was a tenuous strength to be found. Each time he smiled at her, held her hand, or simply walked into a room—Her heart flooded with things she hadn't a name for. That was the feeling she held on to. While the Countess greeted Brandyn as she saw fit…That was what Cybelle chose to remember. Not the sparks of insecurity, nor, the urge to look too far into it.

He kept moving.

Her brows creased momentarily. This…Distant version of Brandyn was not the one she knew. Had news of the attack really shaken him that badly? Pinpricks of guilt filtered from him in a way that a leaky boat might take on water. Why? In the time they'd spent since leaving Naboo he had rarely ever avoided looking her in the eye. Often—He seemed to make a point of it. "Try not to let it get to you…", Cybelle sighed, gently, having repeated the same words to herself over, and over in the last day. Her heart was heavy with it. Weighted down by the fact that every investigation in every sector only seemed to reach dead ends. "There's no way that we could have known what was going to happen or where the New Way would target. The Gala was the obvious choice…"

Cybelle paused and pressed a sense of peace into her features to avoid dwelling on the darkness of self-doubt. She would wear that mask until it became true—Until the sadness and uncertainty inside matched the tranquility outside. So that she could make calm, collected, and rational decisions in the wake of such senseless violence and death.

"—Master Aegis will do what she can. The Jedi on Coruscant are more than capable and I'm sure they'll do everything in their power to help those that were affected."

Cybelle sought words to try and reassure him, but, felt as if she were stumbling through them like her bootlaces were tied together. Partially because she didn't truly understand what it was that she was trying to smooth over. There were a lot of things happening, but Brandyn had a lot more immediate responsibility on his shoulders than she did. When the young man extended his hand toward her the quiet expression, she wore melted into one of surprise. The music was familiar—But the less-than-subtle compliment caught her entirely off guard. "I'm not—", Her mouth opened and closed while she felt her cheeks begin to burn again. Darn it. How could he keep doing that so easily? It wasn't fair in the slightest! Her fingers wound around his while she tried to get her head and heart to realign so they wouldn't keep misfiring. Regardless, she let him pull her up and she shifted closer. Cybelle would never shy away from him again. Never hide from him again. "I wasn't—"

It had never mattered to her before. Attractiveness. Being thought of as lovely or gorgeous in the wake of everything that was required of a Jedi. Cybelle certainly hadn't been the most beautiful, at all, but when Brandyn said it? She…believed that HE believed it. Somehow, that was all that mattered.

Her free hand came to wrap around his right shoulder while her eyes remained glued to his chest for a moment. "Thank you.", she murmured in acceptance, inhaling enough that he would feel slender shoulders rise and fall when she exhaled. "…And…Thank you for taking care of me last night."

"I know you had a lot on your plate."


It was easy. Too easy. To wind herself around him. Too easy, to get lost in that feeling. For the moment…She didn't mind. While the rose color that visibly stained her cheeks began to fade, she let her eyes crawl up from chest, to chin, to nose, and finally—To find him eye to eye. Her gaze wasn't wounded. She had questions but there wasn't a single part of her that felt as if she'd been mistreated. He would find nothing but a wealth of compassion in her. Patience.

As much as he might have wanted to avoid her eyes for the third time—Cybelle wouldn't have that.

She liked it a little too much.

The auburn-haired woman leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose before settling back down. Slowly, she fell into a sway that matched the music he 'd chosen. It did remind her of home. Of quieter times, simpler, times. Unlike Brandyn—She didn't long for that. The Shore would forever be part of her, but it didn't have him. She wouldn't have chosen to be anywhere but in his arms.

"…I'm sorry if I overstepped by letting anyone in while you weren't here. It was foolish, in retrospect. She could have been dangerous but…She looked important.", the light apology would be met with her leaning into him so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. Her arm curved a little higher and her hand found a place against the back of his neck. "I do understand. You have a life outside of me. You don't have to tell me everything—Because I trust you."

"I know...I can feel that something is bothering you. If that was it—I'll be more careful next time. If it's something else…I meant what I said. I'm here, Bran. You can talk to me."


Her fingers squeezed his gently before relaxing. Trying, to reduce any sense of pressure.

"…When you're ready."

Cybelle could and would wait forever if needed.
 

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Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Brandyn's apartment
Tag: Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance


She was unsure of herself. He could tell. Unsure of him as well. That was understandable. He was projecting anything but peace at the moment.
"You're welcome," he said in barely a whisper even as Cybelle pulled his face to align with her gaze. He did not resist her guidance, allowing his eyes to finally find hers.

It was just as he feared. Brandyn found himself blinking away a small tear, avoiding the ignominy of it running its way down his face. His blinks tended towards more intentional now, slower, heavier. They clearly now bore the weight of the stress that showed in his bloodshot eyes.


"I am not upset at you for letting Velda in," he said as he swayed slowly to the music, his words barely audible above the Nabooian melodies, "she and I have a history almost as long as our own. We did reconnect recently...but it was...a one-night thing." How could he not be completely honest? But how could he speak words that would cause worry or fear in her eyes.

"I never thought you would want to see me again...before going back to the Estate," he said before shaking his head. He felt like it was already well-trodden ground in their conversations, but he wanted her to know.

"I am sorry if she gives you any cause to worry. But please know that you have me. What was is no longer. My every longing gaze falls only upon you," he said before pressing stubble framed lips against her forehead.

His scratchy face rested against her head as the music played, and he let the rest of inquiry just hand in the air. He found it odd that telling her about past one-night stands with Corellian nobles was easier than divulging his father's wrongs.

Hands fell to the small of Cybelle's back, holding her close and allowing for time to fall away with gentle intonations of Nabooian panpipes and strings. There was a desire to capture this moment. This time that could be looked back on before hell unfurled on his family. It was not like Cybelle and Brandyn had had an easy path laid out for them before his discovery, but now it seemed there future had become riddled with only more and more likely heartache and struggles.

Why it was that his mind settled on the question he next asked would be a subject of future mental pillorying. Ruining one moment of peace and tranquility by bringing up the end of another such time, was probably not the best move. But he wanted to know.


"What did my father say to you? That day..."

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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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What was going on?

Cybelle felt confusion deepening even further with his quiet whispers. Several years had passed but the Brandyn she had come to know since leaving Naboo was rarely so withdrawn. Disturbed. When she finally found his eyes, she was hard-pressed not to kiss the tops of his cheeks and dash away the profound sadness he exuded. He would not find pity in Cybelle, but he would easily find infinite understanding. When her slender form pressed into his she let Brandyn lead. It was more of a moving embrace than a two-step but the young woman wasn't complaining. If this was what Bran wanted?

She certainly wouldn't be the one to deny him.

The diminutive woman remained quiet while Brandyn began confessing what he perceived to be sins. His connection to the Countess was something that she was trying to take in stride, but it wasn't the shock he feared. In the back of her heart—She had known. Something. She was inexperienced in the ways men and women acted around one another but she was far from ignorant. It was the duty of a Jedi to observe. To learn. The less-than-subtle glances. Open—Easy movements toward him that bespoke something simmering just beneath the surface.

Brandyn kept her close, soothing her both in action and words. Such lovely, pretty words. It was hard for her to explain how she felt just being around him, let alone, how she felt knowing that someone else had managed to experience more of him than she had. "…She's beautiful…", her words were just as soft as his admission had been. It was a statement of fact. Not twined with jealousy as one might expect but something touched with a bit of wonder.

"So are you. Inside—And out."

Also, a statement of fact. She delivered these words as if she were repeating a rule or a law that couldn't be argued with. Slowly, one of her hands slipped to rest against his upper arm and delicate fingers began to draw small patterns against his skin. "It's not surprising that you might have…", she trailed off, trying, to word it delicately. Every attempt seemed to make her cheeks burn even more. Before they finished with this conversation, she was certain to be the color of a red dwarf. "…Found comfort in one another. I'm not going to punish or judge you for your past no matter how recent. "

The mindless patterns that she drew against him paused.

"If this is why you're feeling so guilty, Bran, please don't. I'm not worried. How could I be your girl if I'm losing my mind over every attractive face that talks to you?"


Cybelle well-knew the sting of jealousy. It happened. It was simply up to her not to acknowledge or indulge the green-eyed monster. He was with her—Or he wasn't. Delicate fingers began to move against him again. Sooner or later, he might realize she was drawing notes to the song. Writing the music as it played. They swayed lightly and she breathed him in. Absorbing every bit of what he was, saddened, guilt-ridden, or otherwise. She didn't think that Brandyn was a callous person. He was headstrong and followed his heart. There was no way he would have coaxed her to leave the Shore if he wasn't firm in his intentions.

More than anything—He wouldn't have proclaimed to love her if it wasn't true.

"The truth is…I feel sad, for her. I know better than anyone what it's like to be without you."

Memories were haunting.

When his father had taken him from her life it had been the most jarring experience. She was a little flower child that had been given her own personal sun. Allowed to live, breathe, grow and bask in such perfect warmth. It was all she needed—Without ever knowing that she needed it. Until it was taken away in the cruelest fashion possible. Baros Sal-Soren had taken her light away.

Baros Sal-Soren had forced her back into the lonely dark. Into a place where she would always remember what it was like to have the sun, but never touch it again. Never feel it again.

There were days, hours, when she thought it might have been better never to know him at all.

She couldn't mourn and miss what had never existed.

The quiet calm that she was content to fall into, wrapped in the perfect, protective circle of his arms was all but shattered by Brandyn's next question. Speak of the devil. Perhaps she had tempted fate by thinking of the man or perhaps her errant thoughts had been too loud. So noisy that even a Padawan might pick them up against her will. Brandyn would feel her body stiffen as if she'd been struck, startled, while her heart began to rise in her throat.

Cybelle would have rather suffocated than talk about his father in that capacity.

But…He asked. Brandyn, asked.

Ever so slowly the young woman began to thaw in his arms. It would be a long time before she gathered the strength to pull those particular memories back to the surface. She had spent a significant part of her life trying to keep that incident from floating up in her peripherals. He would feel her swallow, hard. Finding her sharpness, her spirit, that let her stand tall and strong. "He...thanked me."

"For being your friend.",
her words were so soft that a mouse might have had a better chance of hearing it. Buried so close against his chest, however, Brandyn wouldn't have too much difficulty. To her credit, her voice remained steady. Unmoved. Reciting details from the life of someone else. About someone else. It was no longer her panic, no longer, her pain. "But forbid me from seeing you ever again. Do not call. Do not write. Do not undermine me."

"He knew you would hate him for a little while. But…He assured me that soon enough you would forget all about me and find someone else. That I would do that same, and wind up with someone more suited, though whether or not he was referring to my being an orphan or a Jedi…I never knew."

"Not that it mattered. Because, all I felt was a
shadow of true love."

Cybelle kept close.

Enough—That she could hide in his warmth where the memory might not find her. Pick away at her. She had already given Baros Sal-Soren too much of her focus and time for far too long. A soft laugh escaped her lips, suddenly, though it was a touch raw. "In the end…It was your father that made me understand the truth of what I was too young to know."

"We weren't friends. I don't think we ever were."
 

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Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Brandyn's apartment
Tag: Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance


The gentle swaying of their not-quite-a-dance kept Brandyn distracted enough to prevent fidgeting, or nervous brushes of his hand through his hair. Cybelle's closeness brought a peace and calm that he had rarely, if ever known. Even as she spoke, and reaffirmed her confidence in him and his devotion, he could not help but let out a contented sigh.

At least this was good. At least they were good.

He held her close, chin leaning against her head.

Upon his inquiry Brandyn noted her body tensing. It wasn't easy for her. Why would it be? It was likely a memory that she had revisited over and over again, just as he had. Only he did not have the words of his father that stung, only the overbearing control that came with being a child of Baros Sal-Soren.

She said nothing for a time. Brandyn's heart began to beat a bit heavier with the passing of time. Fear clawed at the edge of his mind. This fear of losing or hurting her was something that was worthy of greater meditation. It needed to be controlled.

He wasn't aware that he had been holding his breath, but her certainly noticed when he started again after she spoke.

As his father's words poured from her mouth, Brandyn felt the ache within grow deeper. Guilt for not being who he should have been. Mockery for thinking a boy of 16 from a noble house could do anything in that moment but succumb to the control of his father.

Yes, it was his father's words. And they seemed rehearsed. They seemed as if replayed over and over again, to the point of memorization. And every word he had said was wrong. Every word he had said was despite his son, not for his son.

Brandyn's speech was impeded by a knot in his throat, and a dry tackiness.
"Friends."

"When we were kids. And it got late. I used to let you find me so I could walk around with you the rest of the time. In a world of beauty and beautiful people...yours was a soul unlike any other."


He doubted she would remember.

The words of his father spoken by Cybelle still hung heavy in the air. So much so that he had stopped swaying with the music.


"He's part of The New Way, Cy."

A invisible sharp spike seemed to have been thrust from the base of his neck up through his right eye. Brandyn winced.

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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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She didn't know the reason.

The words that she recounted from that fateful day on the Shore had shaken from her being like hailstones in a deadfall from a grey sky. They were heavy, without malice, but with crushing purpose. It wasn't until she watched Brandyn disappear in a shining land speeder that she knew her heart went with him. That every afternoon meant more, and more, to the point where their little sabbaticals from daily life were the only thing she looked forward to.

Cybelle did her best to steady her breathing and fortify her mind as the memory washed over her. There had been many painful things in her life. Exacting, revelations. None were so cutting than accepting she was akin to a lower life form in the eyes of someone she had respected. That—For everything she had weathered, her path, made her less. Her humanity reduced and diminished as if it were little more than a fanciful wish. Jedi didn't feel, after all.

Throughout the recollection, she could sense changes occurring in Brandyn like chemical reactions. While it bought her some peace of mind that he might better understand her there was the juxtaposition that the truth also brought him harm. That wasn't what she wanted. The young woman pulled back slightly and reached to place her against his cheek. Drawing his gaze back toward her—Caressing the not-quite-beard that he seemed prone to develop. "It's not your fault, Bran."

"It was never your fault...And it doesn't matter now. It's done and over with."


What she wouldn't have given to take away the pain that lingered in his eyes. She has no idea that he was so very much in the dark about something that seemed so pivotal. At the end of the day what had shaken her more than anything were the things that Baros had implied. The love that only then and in that very moment did she recognize enough to know the sheer hopelessness of losing it. Cybelle shook her head a little as if to clear the fog and kept letting her fingers cradle his jaw.

As if that might bring him some measure of clemency.

As if he might believe her, truly, when she swore that he was just as blameless as she was.

Pale pink lips curved into a smile that was almost melancholy at the memory of their childhood. It made her remember a time when she'd wanted to be around hm more than anyone else in the world. Brandyn made things simple. Made everything, every loss, make sense. "You were the only one I ever wanted to find…The only one.", she murmured, softly, while honeyed eyes seemed to take on a faraway shade. Cybelle hadn't known that he let her find him…But even young and entirely ignorant of the Force…She knew what he felt like. Knew the color of his energy. The pull of it—The sweet sanctuary of it.

She would know him even if she were blind. Which, depending on the time of day, was a real possibility.

At first—Cybelle didn't catch it.

The hand that had dedicated itself to soothing away his aches and hurts over an incident that was years removed from their present stilled. Their whimsical, comforting dance, fell away to cold reality and the music faded into the background. Warm brown eyes searched his, confused, and clearly not comprehending the statement to its fullest. "…He can be cruel…But you don't know—"

Oh.

He did know.

Her heartbeat quickened as the implications ran through her at twice the speed. Now, it was her turn to feel a wave of guilt. Cybelle had been the one to walk him through the remains of his family home. It was her findings that had placed his father at the head of the investigation—But there had always been some measure of doubt. "Come here…", the Knight wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him down, into her, where her tiny being could enfold him. She kissed the side of his head and he would feel a subtle shift in her presence.

Now. Now, it made sense. She was certain he felt frustration from the encounter with Velda, the Gala, and the attack on Coruscant. It was all unsettling. But she knew that this was different. A new pain that felt almost impossible to come to grips with. Cybelle, hadn't wanted this.

Never.

"I've got you. I'm here—", dulcet tones promised as the gentle aura that always surrounded her pressed forward to slide across his skin in the softest whisper of static electricity. It would sweep through all of the negative emotions she had been sensing, surround him, and smooth the sharpest edges with every bit of warmth and light she had to offer. Hope. Such sweet tidings for a revelation so severe. Her presence mingling with his would cushion his exhaustion, bring peace, to fear.

It would let her help shoulder his burden. Provide some measure of stability.

It would allow him the chance to exhale.

"…Are you certain?"
 

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Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Brandyn's apartment
Tag: Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance


The hardest part for Brandyn was the knowledge that he would have to say these words of and over again. He would have to say them to Briana, and watch her soul be crushed. He would have to say them to Blaire, who had always been his father's secret favourite, and see her eyes drop, her light dim. He would have to say it to his mother. His dear, dear mother. He only knew small parts of her story, but knew that it involved so much loss and heartbreak.

Without really noticing, his hands had clenched, crumpling the soft fabric of her clothes into a tight clump onto which he could cling. It was not anger. It was not fear. It was a need to not let go to the one thing in his life that felt like a sure place to anchor himself. It was undoubtedly the Force that had given him a second chance with Cybelle for such a time as this.

He didn't resist the pull downwards, and soon his fast was pressed into the warmth of her neck. Eyes closed, and he sighed. There was so much to say. So much to plan and do. But none of it could be done until he had processed this and come to terms with it. Meditation was certainly in order, not that it was ever his strength.

Cybelle was so good with using her Force abilities to sooth emotion. It was a lesson he had already learned and applied within his own work as a Jedi. Always his teacher. Though the peaks and troughs of the emotional tumult were not lowered, their frequency began to ease. Brandyn went from being tossed about by his emotion, to being able to anticipate each high and each low. A rhythm set in and he found breathing deeply with each change in emotion.


"Thank you."

Simple words that enveloped the everything he felt her provide for him. He had wanted to be strong for her, to provide protection. But it seemed she held seniority in more than just Jedi Order hierarchy.

The ache in the back of his mind had begun to pass. It's shadow lingered, but he felt more resolute. The primary reason for his strengthening resolve being Cybelle's cooling Force balm, and really her mere presence.

His face was still pressed into the side of her neck, words were muffled a little.
"Pretty much sure," he said, "he was on Chandrila...when I was there, seeking some New Way intel during an exchange of theirs. I didn't know he was there at the time...mind you. There was some rivalry apparent in The New Way dealings that night. Like there were two factions vying for control. He was there. I have it confirmed in two different ways. And it was when he was supposedly kidnapped...so he was clearly covering for something that he didn't want known. It all fits the bill once you factor in his well known...dislike...for Force Use."

He pulled away from the deep embrace finally, but not without a soft kiss just above her collar bone. It was instinctive, unplanned and not intentionally playful. It just was.

His hands left the tight grip on her garments and rose to cup her face in his palms. Again he wrestled the question of how he could deserve her.
"I will be OK, Cy."

"It's just a lot to process...right now. But I am not alone. And I could have been. Thank you."


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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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Cybelle let him take his time.

Delicate fingers threaded through his hair with a soothing touch, though, her lips did curve into a sad smile where he couldn't see. Brandyn would never need to thank her for any measure of attention or consideration she offered. Everything she had, everything she knew, was there for Cybelle to give to whom she willed. He was deserving. More, than deserving. As long as he wanted it—Her love would be the one thing he was never short of.

The invisible aura seemed to pulse, faintly, in time with her heartbeat. Cybelle knew that this wasn't a wound that she could physically mend, but she could bolster him in spirit. A foundation where Brandyn might find his footing and rest so that he might be able to weather the incoming storm. She could already feel him beginning to right the ship. With what was playing over the Holo-Net every minute of the day from Coruscant it was to his credit that he was even still standing.

A lesser man might have broken under the pressure.

The young woman continued to let everything she was flutter around him like a barrier. A silvery fall of intangible wings that would always, forever, seek to keep him safe. She remained quiet while he spoke and took in the details he offered with a critical mind. Cybelle didn't doubt his findings. She just needed to remove the affection she had for the man in her arms for the integrity of the case. The last thing she wanted to do was lay charges at the feet of a potentially innocent man. Each piece of information offered seemed only to serve as another nail to the coffin. His thoughts on the Force were something that Cybelle knew all too well.

Pieces of the investigation were moving, swiftly, sliding across the playing field. Where the members of the New Way had once been as elusive as sand between her fingers—She couldn't help but connect the dots. "I see…", she murmured softly, gently, but failed to elaborate. If all of that was true it was exceedingly duplicitous behavior. Cybelle did not ask how Brandyn wanted to handle it. Not yet. By rights, immediately, they should have turned over what they knew to the authorities and the Jedi Council. This was just…Different. It was Brandyn pulling back that tugged her from her thoughts. The delicate kiss, guiding her to the present.

Her hands slid down to his chest while Bran drew her face into his hands. Even when he was exhausted and emotionally drained, he was beautiful in her eyes. Her gaze softened immeasurably and Cybelle leaned forward just a little to let her nose brush against his. "I know.", her words were touched with heartfelt confidence. Just because he would be all right, in the end, didn't mean that she couldn't take care of him in the present. "You're strong. I don't think there's a mountain you can't move…"

"But you don't need to thank me. I'm…"
, she trailed off, quietly, obviously trying to say the right thing. For someone so adept at putting things into perspective through the Force there were quite a few times where her mouth had to take a sabbatical to catch up with the rest of her. "I'm yours, Bran. I always have been. Neither one of us have to be alone anymore, especially, for something like this."

He was right.

Cybelle didn't know how long he'd known the truth but anyone would have difficulty thinking something so heinous about a family member. Regardless of their relationship, his father, was still his father. The only difference between someone like Baros Sal-Soren and the common, everyday individual, was one bad day. One event that tipped the scale. That left him…Here. Under a microscope.

Suspected of…Who knew what. Petty crimes, property damage, manslaughter, perhaps, aiding and abetting terrorist activity? Her mind was full—Yeah. Bran was a hundred percent correct. It was a metric ton to process. Cybelle sighed, briefly, and her presence seemed to fold slowly back into itself. Like a flower closing its blooms, preparing, for winter. "Take the time that you need. I'll be here no matter what happens…But if he really is part of the New Way…We'll have to act on that information sooner than later."

She wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know, but she would be remiss not to say it. Every day that the New Way was allowed to operate with impunity meant that countless people were in danger. Her eyes began to sting, though, she blinked it back. Hard. The echoes from Coruscant were still fresh enough that they felt like ash in the back of her throat. There was an ever-present ache in the back of her heart that reminded her, repeatedly, that death had occurred en masse.

They couldn't afford to place emotional injury over the lives of innocent people.

But they couldn't afford to be wrong.

Wordlessly, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. There was nothing else she could say at the moment that might have helped. There was nothing untoward about it, no pressure, but a silent gesture that explained what she couldn't. It would tell Brandyn that she understood. That she would be there, for him, no matter what. That she knew the truth was likely complicated.

That she knew…Their duty, and what it required, would tear his family apart.
 

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Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Brandyn's apartment
Tag: Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance


A quiet resolve had begun to form in the young Padawan. The softness of her touch and presence made for a soothing balm. It was enough for his mind to find some purchase on a ledge that he had threatened to plummet over. Perhaps she thought he was strong. Even Cybelle could be wrong.

"I'm yours..."

A smile formed, born of years of fomented grief, but expressed in the gentlest way he knew how. She was his? He knew that. Without her having to say it. And yet her saying the words still made him grateful for having heard it.

Brandyn's eyes searched hers, those eyes he had just moments ago been so fearful of looking into for the potential of his breaking. They were now his salvation.
"Meant to be," he said.

Even his father could not stop what was meant to be.

She never wandered far from her wise devotion to the Jedi path though. And even as she spoke about their need to say something sooner rather than later, Brandyn's mind wandered to Aiden and the secret he was keeping, the risk he was taking. He owed it to Aiden to not let this truth remain untold for long. She was right and yet, his mind was starting to work on a plan.

His father was a wealthy man. He was a man of burgeoning political sway. He had connections with aristocracy and the elite across the Core, and Colonies due to his fashion empire. He was a well connected man. The likely that he was not just a lackey was very high. If they said something now, they would catch Baros, and destroy his family. If they used their knowledge of the elder Sal-Soren's activity, they could potentially take out the heart of The New Way and end it for good.

She would understand the idea. But Brandyn wasn't convinced that Cy would like it. Would she think he was being directed that way to avoid the immediacy of a confrontation with his father?

Even as his thoughts began to capture his mind, her soft kiss brushed his lips, igniting a thrill that pulled him back to the moment and the beauty of her visage. As she pulled away, he responded with his own kiss that caught her top lip in a gentle pinch.


"Do you want to stay..."

The door to the apartment buzzed with announcement that someone else had arrived.

...over.

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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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An involuntary sound escaped the small woman, low, and barely there when Brandyn returned her kiss with one of his own. The intensity of the sensation for something so small caught her off guard, despite the fact that Brandyn had done it before. Repeatedly, since they'd landed on Hapes. The fact that something could feel so incredibly right when the proverbial sky was falling was absolutely mind-boggling. At being asked to stay Cybelle could feel her head reflexively nodding in the affirmative, though, the buzzer interrupted. "Yes—", the breathy word was followed up with an equally faint chuckle. "—But you hold that thought. Think about something for dinner and I'll get the door."

Her hands came up to rub at her eyes for a moment as she gently unentwined herself from around him. It was more difficult to do than it sounded. Especially, when emotions for the last hour had been on a topsy-turvy sea saw. Tilting this way and that. Between the two of them, she was certain they could find a healthy balance…But for the moment? Between Coruscant, the Countess, and the Revelations about his father? It was a little too much. They needed the night to unpack.

Cybelle didn't think she'd be able to do that half as well from her rented lodgings or from the empty hollows of the Elyance Estate. Everything on the grounds had been in pristine condition but the silence of such a vast, opulent space, felt like a museum. Her maternal grandmother expected her to move right in and take on the duties that her late mother had forsaken—But that couldn't happen. The only place that felt remotely familiar had been right here in this flat.

When Brandyn held her. That felt right—Safe. Normal, somehow.

Maybe, he was right about that too. Meant to be. Cybelle couldn't imagine anyone else in her life that could mean half as much. It was possible that she had built up an idealized version of Brandyn over the years, but that didn't seem to be so. He had his flaws. So did she. This was just the one thing that made perfect sense. He had become her clarity, so easily, and in such a relatively short amount of time.

The ever-weaving energy within that was the Force had become still in his presence. Content. Like some large sleeping feline that had found the perfect patch of sun.

At least—It had been quiet. Until her hand moved over the data-pad to unlock the portal. The Force moved like an unfurling tidal wave and she felt a sense of warning rising behind her breastbone. The dim lighting in the hall obscured the features of the figure in the doorway, worsened, by her being nightblind. His aura was familiar. Not in the way that the Countess had registered for her on some distant level, but, in a fashion that was much too close.

The identity of the man appeared in her mind's eye even before he stepped into the light.

No. Not here, not now.

Cybelle stared for a brief moment. As if she were somehow witnessing a ghost—A walking tragedy that on some level represented everything wrong in the world. She wanted to yell at him. To demand how he could stand there, calmly, while part of Coruscant was burning. To ask him how he could possibly be associated with murderers and terrorists. How could he condone this?

It didn't matter…Because she knew, how. It was the same way atrocities were committed all over the galaxy. Someone with means, charisma, in the right moment, at the right time, decided that no matter what—They were in the right. And that whatever cause they fought for?

Was worth killing for.

Her expression smoothed and tawny sable eyes fixated on the face of one Baros Sal-Soren.

"Brandyn.", she called, perhaps unnecessarily, "You have a visitor."

She didn't need to say his name. If anyone would know his father…It was him.
 
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Brandyn was already turning towards the small kitchen off in the corner of the open plan room when he had wave of understanding hit him. His father was here. Now.

Even before Cybelle pressed the button, Brandyn was bracing himself. It was not for fear or belief that his father was greater or more powerful than he. No. Brandyn had transcended respect towards his father's position and role in his life. To Brandyn, they were equals now. Both men. Not a father and his son - the son being the lesser of the two. He was no longer, "Brandyn, Baros' son." He was simply Brandyn Sal-Soren. He didn't even mind the idea of dropping the Sal-Soren bit.

It was a sight he never imagined happening, Cybelle standing before his father. She didn't flinch. Brandyn was proud of her.




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Baros hesitated before pressing the door chime. Not long. But long enough to reconsider this. He knew Brandyn would likely not care to see him. Baros had heard about the Elyance girl. He found it unsurprising, and very Sal-Soren. There was almost a hint of pride within the elder Sal-Soren for Brandyn's act of intractableness. It was a trait that Briana had shown from a young age, Blaire too, but Brandyn had always been very subordinate, until the issue with his spending time with the Elyance girl. That of course lead to the runaway, and what could only be termed now as the 'stayaway'.

He was grateful for the slight repair to their relationship that had occurred since their mutual shift to Hapes. However, Baros suspected that would all be undone now due to the return of the Elyance girl.

When the door slid open, Baros felt taken aback for just a moment. The Elyance girl had grown. Not a lot, mind you, but she had matured. Baros looked down upon her, and attempted a cordial smile.

"Miss Elyance. Forgive the intrusion."

Baros glanced across at his son, who stood further into the room, and seemed rigid as a board. Unsurprising.

"May...I come in, Brandyn?"

It was more than just a request for entrance into the room. An unspoken request for forgiveness been laced within the tone.


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Brandyn was accustomed to his father's subtilties. He knew there was more to the request than just a request for entrance into the abode. "Please...we are just about to leave...but can spare a minute," he said, not giving his father everything he might be wanting.

Brandyn stepped over towards Cybelle, looping his fingers around hers and dropping her a glance of support. He was determined to show they stood together. He was also determined to hold Cybelle back if she decided that Baros just needed a solid beating. It wasn't Cybelle's way though. Perhaps he held her hand to prevent him from doing so?

He watched his father move calmly, with poise, into the room. How could he be so calm? So many dead. So many dying. So many mistreated under the name of an organization with which he had affinity. Brandyn had many questions. They all started with 'why' and ended with 'freaking Sithspawn'.



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["It will not take long, son,"
Baros said. He was testing the waters with calling Brandyn 'son'.

He noted the closeness with which Brandyn and the Elyance girl stood. It was defiant. It was fine. He had long since accepted that Brandyn would do his own thing, forge his own path. He didn't like his choice...choices...but he accepted them.

"I will be going to Chandrila this evening...urgent business. I wanted to see you before I left. Wish you well. And...apologize...for not being...here."



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Brandyn felt his grip tightening on Cybelle's hand as his father spoke. He realized this and released the tension, though his jaw, that had followed suit did not relax. He knew exactly what this meant. His father was going to have some further New Way meetings, surely. The attack on Coruscant had him rattled perhaps? Maybe it was not something to which he had been privy ahead of time? Brandyn could only hope that this small mercy would turn out to be true.

"Thank you," he said. His words were strained. Uncomfortable on his own tongue.

"We will call in to see mother tomorrow before we leave...on assignment." Each word sounded like a warlike drumbeat within his head. He could feel the anger bubbling away within, and the cordiality he was endeavoring to maintain was tearing away at his resolve.



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Baros paused for a moment, assessing the almost ponderous nature of his son's words. Brandyn seemed angry. Surely it was not just for the Elyance girl's sake. Something else was surely afoot. Or had Baros truly misunderstood the depth of pain he had caused those years ago?

"She would like that. She was horribly disappointed to not have a chance to meet you last night at the Gala," Baros said. His gaze drifted with the target of his words, falling briefly on the Elyance girl before going back to Brandyn.

"When I return. I should like to have all the family together for a meal. It has been far too long. Everyone is so busy these days."



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"We will see to it that we are available for such an event,"
Brandyn said. An unsubtle glance at clock on the shelf across the room gave away his intent to end the meeting.

"Now if you will..."



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"...yes, I really must be going. I have far to travel...unfortunately far from all that I love."


It was less than subtle. He hoped it would be accepted, perhaps abate the rising heat he saw in Brandyn's cheeks. Baros walked towards the door with a fair pace, before tapping the console. The door hissed and quickly slid open. Baros turned back to the two young lovers. Pain writ large across his aging face. It was a sight he rarely allowed anyone to see. But with Teyla knowing. With the attack on Coruscant. With this Bartholomew co-opting the movement he had begun. And with this fully realized guilt over his handling of the Elyance girl matter, Baros had rarely been as broken a man.

His tone conveyed a weariness. A vulnerability that had only been seen by his wife, and that increasingly rarely over the years.

"For what it is worth. To you both. You two have my blessing."

And with that, Baros Sal-Soren stepped back through the door which promptly slammed shut upon his exit.
 

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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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_____________________________________________

"…There is nothing to forgive."

Autopilot. There was nothing to forgive—Because the terrorist acts on Coruscant were unforgivable.

Cybelle stepped back.

She didn't visibly flinch away from the elder Sal-Soren but it was abundantly clear that she did not want to be close enough to breathe the same air. Her stomach was churning, spinning, and the young Knight found herself rapidly losing the strength to stand. Bile was rising in her throat while her mouth began to feel watery and the quaint flat felt two sizes too small. It was a tell-tale sign that she was about to lose the lunch that she hadn't eaten. The affable demeanor that Baros Sal-Soren presented was…Unwelcome. She felt threatened; not by what he said.

By what he didn't say.

It became steadily clear that Brandyn's father had for reasons unknown retained some knowledge of the orphan girl he had thoughtlessly cast aside. He recognized her, at least. Of that Cybelle was dead certain. The urge to reach for her lightsaber, even as a comfort, rather than a source of violence was quelled by a hand twining around her own. So wrapped up in feeling desperately ill the young Hapani hadn't felt him move at all. Everything, swiftly, snapped into focus.

She went from surveying the situation as if it were some distant and surreal nightmare to feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. It was sobering. If Brandyn held her hand too tightly, Cybelle, would not complain. It was his presence that brought her back to some state of equilibrium where every sentence from his father didn't warrant a deepening negative response. Rather than focus on the possible murderer that stood before them—She focused on Brandyn.

'We are just about to leave.' A lie, but she unflinchingly let it stand. It did surprise her how…Easily he found the words to fabricate a reason Baros couldn't stay. How believable it was. If Cybelle hadn't of known the truth, she never would have questioned it. Not once.

We. Brandyn, kept saying "We" in regards to his plans moving forward. Cybelle, also recognized that particular cleverness. It held the twofold punch of reassuring her, settling, ruffled feathers while also potentially rubbing their closeness in his father's nose. Her head remained high. Resolute, to prove the words true—But this was where her well-honed skill-sets began to fail. Where silver tongues and politics took over. She could recognize it—But could she do the same? Play the part that was required of her? The notion that any member of Brandyn's family wanted to meet her for any reason came as a shock. Tawny eyes dipped and swept the floor to skillfully hide varying burgeoning levels of hurt and confusion.

Baros, was picking at old wounds and lacing them in salt, without even knowing it.

How many times had she wished for him to take back the vitriol he had spewed in her direction?

How many times had she hoped, one day, that there might be some form of middle ground that would just let her see Brandyn again. To have his blessing? To know what she knew—What they knew?

She did her best.

Cybelle, did her best to focus on the light. To press something positive back toward Brandyn to shield him from the nauseating disgust that rolled through her in penetrating waves. To love him in little shafts of hope that were only meant for him. Only made, for him. As if that would somehow keep him safe. Chocolate orbs found the pieces of a broken man among the expression Baros wore when he finally turned away and the fingers of her free hand flexed. Something exceedingly small, imperceptible, would attach itself to somewhere hidden on his person. She couldn't breathe.

Baros…Was either a very adept actor; or her senses were going completely haywire. Perceptive eyes followed his gait and bearing. Trained ears noted his tone. The pauses, between words, the things that weren't spoken fully in the emptiness. The little letters of love that were penned, ever so carefully, into each syllable from father to son. Cybelle...Didn't only feel revulsion.

She felt sympathy.

Pity.

The part of her that was truly a Jedi wanted to stop the father of the man she loved. To somehow—Mend what could be. Her heart longed for that repair. Why? She didn't know. She couldn't understand why now, after all these years, there was room for something inside her other than dismissive distaste. Cybelle…Didn't hate Baros Sal-Soren. No more than she could hate the Countess. After all…She knew it better than anyone. She knew what it was like. To go without Brandyn.

To be without him.

Her hand tore from Brandyn's as soon as the door closed and came to reflexively cover her mouth. Hard. Trying to hold something in. Trying to be the Jedi she was supposed to be. Untouched, by such emotional highs and lows. It was one thing to think of Baros as a cold-blooded killer when the most recent memory she had was born of his prejudice. It was different, to see him in person.

Different. Knowing, he mourned now, as she had mourned then. Baros had indeed lost his son.

And he knew it.

The jade bangle on her wrist began to tighten. Activating—Though she had not called for it. Her hand fell slowly away from her mouth and distant eyes, clouded, watched impassively while smooth green material began to spread up her arm like a swallowing wave. It stole her light. Hid it away. The nanotech armor was reactive and returned her to the woman that had first greeted Brandyn outside his childhood home. Such advanced technology responded to her without words. Protective. Ready. As if her mind had suddenly overridden her heart and decided, above all else, that it was time to accept what was. It knew. Even…If her instincts were at war. The shining armor began to sweep up her neck as she blinked slowly. Twin tears ran down her cheeks before her hand formed a fist.

It armor stilled in its path partway across her torso and her expression hardened.

Her hand opened again and the nanites pooled in her palm, flickering, with neon green energy while it built the viewing portal for the built-in communications array. Cybelle did not look at Brandyn while the majority of her armor retreated, sluggishly, back to the bangle. Instead—She held her hand out before him while her eyes remained pinned on empty space. He would see a blinking light moving further away from them. Eventually, he would realize he was looking at a map.

"…Where he goes…We'll know…"
 

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Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Brandyn's apartment
Tag: Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance


He closed his eyes the moment that the door slid closed behind his father. Hands were quickly to cover his face and harshly smooth over any wrinkles that had threatened to permanently forge their way into his portrait. He exhaled, harshly. The tension did not release, only coiling up further into the pit of his stomach.

He couldn't do this.

He couldn't carry out this task.

His feet felt cemented to the floor. Knees locked him into a sullen statue.

He could feel that Cybelle had moved away. The small shards of light she emanated had moved away. Her hand had slipped from his. How was it that he already felt stripped bare without her near him?

Brandyn's head shook, dismissing the unnecessary questions. He finally moved only upon catching sight of Cybelle's armored state. His first instinct was that she had been hurt in some way. His legs felt suddenly free to move, and move they did without hesitation. After a second step, he started to piece together what he was seeing. Surely, it was something related to her father-figure John Locke. He mouthed the words 'what the' but left the sentence unfinished.

She looked ready to go to war. He had not seen this side of her. The usually demure and in control young woman had always seemed a pacifist in Brandyn's mind. It wasn't an unwelcome revelation overall, but the subject of her ire was clearly his father. This made him...uncomfortable, despite his understanding of her state of mind.

Eyes refocused, taking in the blinking light on the map. Brandyn's head tilted a little to the left. She had placed a tracker on him. This produced a pained smile. A good thing or not, Cybelle was taking to this life like a fish to water.


"I."

He was still taken aback by her stance, and the clear tumult of emotions coming from her. It was probably not far from his own emanations, though his came with an unhealthy side of indecisiveness. He looked away from her for a time, his eyes catching a glimpse of the Mandalorian helmet resting on the floor at the far end of the couch.

The cursed metal seemed to offer solace. Speaking just the right words of calm, and control, focus for his frustrations and anger. He blinked away the temptation for the time being, exhaling again to refocus on Cybelle again.


"This is going to destroy my mother, Cy," he finally whispered, "and the anger I feel...threatens to destroy me."

Leaning against the wall, Brandyn found a spot to lean his aching head.

"We should tell the Council. But..."

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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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"We should."

Her words were bare. Empty of every emotion that tried, unsuccessfully, to rise to the surface. Brandyn knew, now, what she had done. His initial assessment was correct. She was hurt. Deeply. Just, not physically. Her own pain, no matter how significant, had no place here. The map that she created would alert her through her comm when Baros Sal-Soren finally departed. They would be able to cohesively track each and every move he made unless he entered some sort of extreme magnetic field or EMP.

It wasn't something the everyday individual came into contact with.

Cybelle…

Exhaled.

Her fist closed and the nanotech went with it. Silently, disappearing. As if it were never there at all. John had always insisted on her wearing the bangle at all times. He worried. Gianna, worried. Especially when she was far away with a Padawan they barely knew or trusted. This was the furthest she had ever been from the Shore. All of her faith, hope, and expectations were related to the man standing not three feet from her. Perhaps…It was unfair. To place so much weight on shoulders that were already heavy from burdens she could hardly fathom; but her heart wanted, what it wanted.

That had never changed.

The auburn-haired woman slowly turned toward Brandyn and approached with caution. Her movements were smooth, sure, but with all the thoughtfulness of nearing a wounded tiger. Her left hand found a space on the wall next to his head while her right hand fell to his chest. Laying, softly, over a heart that was likely beating much too hard. "I'm sorry.", she whispered, though, her expression had been schooled into something that resembled peace. The drying tear tracks on her cheeks would paint a different story. One that depicted how very, very much she was holding in.

"I am…", her eyes flickered, before rising to his, and settling. "I am so very, very sorry."

For unearthing the trove of artifacts beneath his home. For not demanding a new representative the very moment that she saw him standing in the ruins. The hand that lay over his heart reached out with the same comforting warmth that she had exuded before. It was harder. More difficult, yet, no matter her exterior she had a world of love within. It was tempered by endless rivers of sadness.

Everything that made a person whole.

"It will not destroy you. I won't let it. You, won't let it. Anger is nothing more than a fleeting punishment we often give ourselves for someone else's mistake. It lets us hide behind our hurt.", her words were wary, though, they rang with an echo of truth. It was as if Cybelle herself had heard the same thing from someone else and was imparting it as a learned lesson rather than existential drivel. The young woman tried to smile in the dim lighting but there was something off about it. Flat. That pain lingering that she tried so very hard to hide. "I've spent a good part of my life trying to understand it so that it can be overcome. I'm not perfect…But I do know that genuine emotion can contain…Illogical conflict."

"You can love someone, and yet, hate the things they've done."


Her gaze remained on his for a long moment before it slipped away as she began to lean into him once more. Trying, somehow, despite her factual countenance, to show him the truth. To be the softness between him and the rest of the world. No matter what she had to do. "It's all right to love him, Bran."

"It just doesn't change what we need to do."


Cybelle…Couldn't explain the things she had suddenly noticed. She was still trying to come to grips with what happened. When had abhorrence become sympathy? When had total aversion become pity? One day, she would try and understand. For the moment…The confusion and nigh disgust in herself would need to be endured. Her own words heeded. Focusing on Brandyn let her forget the ache in her chest, fight the nausea, and push through. It was her duty. Both to him—And to the Jedi Order. "…Every bone in my body told me to arrest him. Every piece of me, now, tells me to hunt him down so that no one else gets hurt…Including him."

The longer they left his secret in the wind the more possibilities there were that someone else would discover it. Cybelle couldn't remember Brandyn's mother very clearly. Only, that she was beautiful. Kind. She had a laugh that reminded the young Hapani of summer rain. She remembered the unshakable love that existed in his family. It was one of the things that had drawn her back to it. Time and time again. The children would fuss, fight, and somehow, it all turned out well.

His mother loved her children and his father.

Unless that had changed over the years…Cybelle suspected that Teyla Sal-Soren already knew.

Three very well could hold a secret. If—Two were dead. The threads were coming apart, unraveling, and it was only a matter of time before someone else started putting the pieces together about Baros Sal-Soren. She wasn't the only one investigating the remains of the Ee'everwest Estate. There were hundreds, thousands, of Jedi, authorities, and members of the Council themselves following up on the attack on Coruscant. They would only have a short window to act before it was too late.

"But I know…I know…", Cybelle started, jaw clenching, while she refused to let her eyes burn again. All she wanted in the moment was to close her eyes and rest her head against his shoulder. To be close. To speak of little things, like making dinner, and what she might borrow to wear for the evening. It was too good to hope that those things would be their normal. Not, when they both had higher callings. "He's your father. So, I settled for tracking. It was the best compromise I could quickly come to."

It was against all she had been trained for.

Cybelle let her hand leave the wall so that she could look up at him and brush his hair from his eyes. It was the same, affectionate gesture, but it would not be the same eyes looking back at him. How could they be? Trauma left invisible scars…But they were scars all the same. Baros Sal-Soren, was trauma. "You'll have to decide…Before we get any deeper into this case…Where you stand...", her murmured words were touched with quiet understanding, but there was something else. Firmness. It was the spine of steel that had seen her promoted to being a Knight during the Cataclysm on Naboo.

"It's an unforgivable thing to ask of anyone. The Order would never force you to take this lead and would likely remove one or both of us from investigating if they knew… But you need to be certain of your path. Clear of mind, clear of heart."

Because the day would come, when inevitably, the game of shadow play would end and either Baros Sal-Soren would be discovered or the New Way would fall and all would be revealed. This was a chance to get ahead of those that might be looking for a scapegoat. But, there was an equal chance that there would be no opportunity to protect the elder Sal-Soren. They didn't know the depths of his involvement which, considering, could have been dire. "…No matter what decision you make—Your father will need you in the end."

Secrets…Never stayed hidden. It was not a matter of if someone else found out.

It was a matter of when.
 

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Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Brandyn's apartment
Tag: Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance



"You are a wise guide, Cybelle Elyance," Brandyn said. His words were soft, eyes deeply grieved but with a hint of silver lining just for her.

"The Force surely knew that I needed you. Thank you," he said, offering the slightest of smiles.

His hand moved to hers, holding it over his heart. His rock amidst the raging storm. One thing he knew he could find solace in was her. It was still too unreal to be real. For now, he would cling to her words, her advice being the lighthouse midst the tempest of soul.

But her words again were wise. She did not allow him to lean on her advice as a crutch, but commit to a path of his choosing. A path that he could reconcile with both conscience and heart.

His head stooped in contemplation, whisker frame lips pressed against her soft hand. His mind was now permitted time to think through the situation logically, to apply the Jedi Code to the situation, to calm his mind and see the Force's path clear before him. There in the embrace of the woman he loved, a path through the trial of his soul became clear.

What seemed like hours, had only been moments, but Brandyn felt like 'finally' was an appropriate descriptor for when he chose to speak again.


"I will send a message to the council, informing them of my discovery. If we leave immediately afterwards, we can beat him to Chandrila. It has been a hot bed of activity. I will seek out some contacts I have there. If you can follow him locate his meeting place with The New Way...I will not be far behind you."

He would also need to message Aiden and tell him that he had better come clean quickly.

"If we are fortunate. We may be able to take down the leadership of The New Way. And then...I will have some questions for my father."

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H A P E S
[ Brandyn's Flat ]
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren

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"I do the best I can. It's all anyone can ask from us."

It was all any of them could do. Brandyn didn't seem to realize that Cybelle was maintaining a competent façade by the grace of the Force alone—But that was by design. She didn't want him to know. The slender woman kept her peace after her lengthy spiel. He kept her close. That was enough. She repaired and healed in the silence, at least, temporarily.

The path that he painted for them was acceptable. Smart. It met her need to maintain transparency with the Jedi Order while allowing them to retain some measure of control over the situation. She was a Knight. They would be granted some measure of independence with that to bolster credibility. Anything that went poorly, fell through, or erupted in blazing hellfire would come down on her head. Not his. If they failed to perform their duties it would be her decisions that brought them to the truth or failure. Brandon could choose—But if she didn't stop him?

It was the same as making the decision herself.

Cybelle lifted her head and kissed Brandyn in soundless acceptance of what he proposed. The auburn-haired woman would do what he asked of her. Slowly…She pulled away. If she didn't now, she never would. "Staying over will have to wait…", she murmured, carefully, attempting a soft smile. It didn't quite touch her eyes. Something seemed to have changed since Baros Sal-Soren had arrived. Not necessarily between them, but for Cybelle, her light became sharper. Serious.

"Consider it done." Don't hate me in the end.

The same armor that she had quelled began to slip from the bangle around her wrist and the nanites chased themselves across her skin. The miniature machines ate through her clothing with a vengeance and left behind the deep green uniform she had worn on Naboo in a brief flash of sparks and heat. The pale robes that she had worn earlier sat on the back of the couch. She left it for later.

As warm as they were—They weren't slagproof.

Her hand opened again and she silently observed the map that formed. A flick if her hand caused the tracking information to jump to his data-pad. She would have preferred to go together, however, they both knew they needed boots on Chandrila now. Her hand fell back to her side and the map faded away. Her jaw set tight. Her stomach felt like it was starting to churn all over again, but this time, it was the thought of being without him that left her with a distinct sense of vertigo.

Cybelle have him all the hope, light, and faith she could muster.

She kept none for herself.

"I'll have a ship in the air in half an hour.", she noted, though, he might find that strange. Knights generally had to wait for requisitions unless it was a dire emergency but Cybelle tended to use outside channels for her equipment. It was all she had ever known. Despite the fact that she'd declined the transport John and Gianna had initially offered—Cybelle knew it was here. Just in case. It wasn't being used for the desired purpose of coming home, or escaping, but it would be useful nonetheless. Her foster parents were complicit in their endeavors without knowing it. "Less. Depending on traffic to the port."

Cybelle breathed in profoundly while the honeyed shade of brown in her eyes seemed to solidify into hardened amber. Her posture changed. Everything about her seemed to become something he wouldn't recognize. New. Made for the work. For the Force. Dark lashes dusted against tanned cheeks for a moment before the softest kiss to his cheek would dance across his skin before she moved toward the door. A nod. A pause, but, knowing her place.

She missed him already. It showed, in her need to move. To begin the mission.

"I…I'll be in touch."

The mission was all that mattered.

The portal opened and closed in an instant and Cybelle Elyance all but disappeared. Her accounts were placed on hold. Her guest quarters in the Court were packed up and shipped to the Elyance Estate for storage. She didn't know how long they'd be gone and it was as good a place as any. By the time the next hour struck, Cybelle, would be on her way to another world she knew nothing about.

This time—Alone.
 


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Wearing: XoXo
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: An Echo In The Force
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren , Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance

For a moment - a mere glimmer of a second, it looked as though there was someone else in the room with them. The silvery silhouette, indiscernible against the ambient lighting, brought a familiar feeling with it. The presence nudged through the Force, pushing at the connections' awareness, endeavoring to understand the damning exchange and perhaps draw the others attention.

“Brandyn,” his name echoed like a ghostly whisper on a non-existent breeze, taking up space where the anomaly had stood a split second before.

Once more, the room was empty.

Silent.

As though it’d never been.

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Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard Lightsaber
Location: Brandyn's apartment
Tag: Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance



As the door slid closed behind Cybelle a foreboding washed over Brandyn, it was a eerily feeling of finality that did not seem like it belonged. And yet it was there. He was alone...

No. He wasn't.

He heard Briana. Just for moment. His sister spoke his name as if she stood in the room with him. A quick glance revealed the known truth. She wasn't there. Perhaps the stress of the last 24 hours was having more of an effect that he realized. Now he was hearing voices. Maybe it was his fearing playing a cruel trick. The last person in the galaxy he wanted to face right now, while he carried a secret this grave was any of his sisters. Briana most of all.

Brandyn steeled himself, and hit record on a message that he had to send. Every word was forced through the lump that had not departed from his throat.



[Thread Completed]

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