First Reply Exile [GA & Jedi]

[Allyson Locke]

//: Coruscant //:
//: Military Prison //:
//: Solitary Confinement with my Demons //:
//: Prisoner #1352 //: Allyson Locke //: Traitor to the Alliance //:

Die a hero
Or live long enough
To become the villain. ​

Breathing still hurt, and at times, the wound would still feel fresh against her chest. Unlike her first return from Bastion, Allyson found herself in a prison cell. She had survived the Empire, she had survived the current string of wars, but she held reservations if she was going to survive her black ops mission. Laying back on the bed, she looked up and stared at her outstretched hand. She rotated her wrist and bent her fingers, passing the time with thoughts, wondering if this hand was even capable of doing what she had been tasked with. ​

Kill the Emperor. It was all that was written on the mission dossier. Everything had been blacked out because it was unnecessary information. The Corellian had already known where he was, who his associates were, and nearly every movement he made. She could feel him within her very soul as she was haunted by his face nightly, even his voice lingered in the back of her mind. It scratched, reminding her that she failed once again. How pathetic. She was able to orchestrate one of the largest betrayals the SIA had seen. She destroyed nearly every relationship she had and had nothing to show for it. ​

She couldn’t even die properly, kneeling and begging a woman too pure for this galaxy to strike her down. Sitting up, Allyson groaned, holding a pillow to her chest to support it. The way the damage had occurred and her minor resistance to bacta caused it to not fully heal without the support of sutures. Moving, breathing, coughing, everything hurt and made her ache. Her hospital stay was short. She was no war hero, she was a traitor, and they treated her as such. Lack of pain medication, being cut off from the Force, and tossed aside as quickly as possible only made her realize what she was to them. ​

Maybe they’d execute her. Make an example to the other Shadows, the Jedi, the Sith enemies, and those who fathomed, leaving the ‘protection of the Light.’ The thought made her chuckle. Being on the other side made her realize how both were so full of the same bullshit - just with a few different words. At least when she learned to be a Jedi from Jyoti - the woman was honest. Thinking about the Echani made her smile fade slightly, her heart ached a different kind of ache. Allyson knew she messed up, and things that happened with Jyoti was one of her biggest regrets. Loske and Jyoti, the two that stood by her and never gave up - at least Jyoti was smart enough to put her family before the unhinged agent. ​

Her feet dangled slightly as she sat up in the stiff bed. Solitary confinement was something she was growing used to. She could work through her ridiculous mind, at least here, finding the threads that connected them to the different identities she housed within her mind. As much as she desired a fix, they were her greatest defense to completely free her from everything. It took a delicate hand to control them, and she was getting better at it, especially with all the solitude she was receiving. ​

Breakfast had already passed, but she refused to touch it. The guard that had come to check on her already lectured her on how she needed to eat. Despite how much her stomach growled, she didn’t feel the urge to eat what was given to her. Looking at the small breakfast, she sighed then peered towards the mirror that hung in her cell. It was guarded by an unbreakable guard in case she chose another way of escape. Fingers tapped at her face, and a hand felt her stomach. Already, the Corellian’s face thinned out, and her ribs were starting to show. ​

Maybe she’ll try and eat lunch. She thought quietly to herself as she stood and stretched the best she could. Moving her limbs slightly kept them from completely failing her. She would kill to go out into the sunlight even if it was to breathe the polluted air of Coruscant. Frowning, she let her mind wander to the home she left on Corellia, and the last moment of happiness she could share before she completely lost grasp of everything. ​

“Yeah, today she’s allowed some. Possibly just one visitor.” A voice echoed down the hallway. Allyson moved and felt the pain in her chest, but she ignored it for now. ​

“The Corellian? The traitor, right?” Another voice verified the comment from the former. “Mhm, guess they’re feeling sorry for her up there.” The first voice commented before both guards laughed. “Alright then, do we warn her?” “Nah.” Another fit of laughter, and Allyson rolled her eyes. One day, they’d figure out that the hallway echoed. She hoped they never did, though, as she thought back to one of her first nights here. Seemed the corrupt even sought the protection of the Light.​

Spoiler: PLEASE READ

Hello! This is a First Reply for the Galactic Alliance & NJO, JEDI in general. Since Allyson is being held in GA space it would be hard to justify anyone else finding their way into the prison. IF you're not apart of these factions / groups please DM me on discord or message me on the site and we can set something up!

 

[Zaavik Perl]

// MILITARY PRISON, CORUSCANT //
// EVIL FRIEND //

​

"Where's Master Locke?"

In the deepest, strangest depths of his comatic dreams when Auteme and Ryv freed him from the abyss, he could feel her presence. Yet, when he came to she wasn't anywhere to be found. Jedi Masters were always busy, so he never held it against her. At first. Auteme came around frequently enough that one would have thought she was on his chart. Ryv, even, came by to shoot the shavit not too infrequently. But Allyson, maybe too caught up in her own guilt, never came.

"Where is she?"

Looking back, he wasn't sure why it took them so long to tell him. The answers were never straight, and his own attempts to contact her, as one would expect, fell flat. It was frustrating now, that maybe they thought he couldn't handle the fact. Allyson might have been the very last person anyone would have expected, right? Maybe the were all stuck in the throes of trying to figure out what happened to her themselves.

"Where is Allyson?"

At least they were honest, though it took a dogged insistence to get it out of them. Did he handle it well? A lot better than they thought he would, but that didn't mean it was done well. Now he taught himself, using what she'd shown him as a foundation. Though, without a Master's supervision, what work was there for him, really? Perhaps her sudden, betraying absence kindled his transgressions back on Zeltros.

But maybe not. There was a certain thing that the two of them had in common. Was it defiance, or just a propensity to go against the grain, for better or worse? Maybe it didn't stop there, either. That was the worst part, even with how angry, hurt, and disappointed he was he couldn't let it go. There was still something in him that would be willing to forgive her. She was all he had, the only family, the only Allyson.

Down the long, acoustic hallways Zaavik strode with a nervous enthusiasm laced with a near-fatal dose of determined rage. Prisoner #1352, Cell #32-A, Block D1, such a degrading place for a Jedi Master to reside. She'd dug herself this pit, though, and while the thought of her sleeping in some cell didn't sit well with him, for once he didn't feel like defying consequence.

Several dozen paces later, after turning a corner he saw the sign for the block, Block D1. He stopped on a credit, taking in a big inhale as he shoved himself past the invisible wall of hesitation. His shoes tapped with stifled thuds against the utilitarian tiled floors, echoing off the acoustic architecture of the prison corridors. He counted the numbers in his head, trying to psyche himself up. Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one...

Thirty-two. "Shit," he hissed quietly to himself, standing only a few meters from the door. Staring at the numbers engraved on the slab that lingered next to the threshold, he was frozen. What would he say? It's not like this would change anything, and he had his doubts about closure. With a subtle whip of his head forwards, he forced himself to step forward with the momentum. He wasn't a coward. This needed to be confronted.

His off-scarlet visage peeked its way into the frame of the singular viewport of the cell door. 'Solitary Confinement', read the small insert beneath the glasteel. The corners of his mouth twitched, and the forced apathy on his face began to waver into a solemn discomfort. His tongue fidgeted behind his gritted teeth, and he had to stop himself from poking his head out of view and changing his mind. As if the force itself pried his mouth open, he spoke; "Allyson."

 

[Anaire Senno]

Capt. Anaire Senno
Faction/Org: Coruscant Security Force (Galactic Alliance)
Location: Coruscant, Galactic City, Level 5127, Federal District, CSF Harbourside Station
Activity: Getting briefed
Tags: Allyson Locke Zaavik Perl

"Hey Captain, sorry to interrupt you Ma'am but did the Colonel brief you?" The voice brought Anaire's focus away from the warm plate she'd just set down in her gloved hand.

The weary Anaire slumped down into the black office chair and pushed herself around to face the dusky-skinned man who she knew to be Sergeant Garn, a dutiful man she thought if a bit plain. "No, he was gone before changeover." Anaire sired wearily through her nostrils. "But I have a suspicion that you're about to inform me."

Sergeant Garn watched as the Captain seemed to swivel dismissively away from him towards her food, his brow furrowed at that he didn't like being ignored least not by some mid-rim aristocrat. "Sorry about that Ma'am his wife went into labour. We've been directed by the big boss to engage in some high-vis patrolling through the Federal district around the port and military detention center. Might want to open your holomail" He suggested frankly.

Her short fingers tapped precisely at the holographic keyboard and opened up her Government holomail intranet site and let out a wolfish whistle from behind the turquoise visor that separated her face from the office's atmosphere. "Federal government has got an extreme high-security prisoner in military custody? From this brie-" Anaire snarled quietly the Sergeant interrupted her.

Sergeant Garn took a few steps towards Anaire standing behind the Captain and looking over her helmeted head to the hmail on the liquid crystal terminal display "An escape risk in addition to a public-interest offender. Boss wants us to give move-on directions to protesters who might try to obstruct the Army's movements through the skylanes or on the ground." The Captain seemed thoroughly nonchalant and aloof, Garn couldn't hear her voice the vocal distorter of her helmet had been warping it though he wouldn't be a Sergeant if he couldn't read body language.

Anaire's helmet rises up off her crown between a pair of palms and she places it on the table with steady care as if the surface would be scratched or scuffed with the movement. "Get any general duty crews still out there relieved Sergeant, and get our rostered public order and riot division guys on the ground. I will make short work of my food and we'll patrol around outside the detention center on foot with Pord and be proactive." Anaire said with a professional courteous firmness without taking her attention away from the terminal's screen.

Sergeant Garn's hazel eyes look down at the seated Captain and met her Gray spheres with his own gaze. "Aye, sounds good Ma'am. I'll go and get a marked skycar ready."

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Coruscant //:
//: Military Prison //:
//: Zaavik Perl //:
//: Prisoner #1352 //: Allyson Locke //: Traitor to the Alliance //:

Meditation. It was something Allyson had recently learned again when she had visited Jyoti on Kiribi at the Echani Enclave. The skill was the only reason her mind was somewhat put together, and the voices calmed from taking hold of her. The calming quiet that echoed through the hallways of the prison was comforting in a way. Though she did miss the hum of electronics and electromagnetic waves vibrating around her. The white noise had become her sound, the one that she fell asleep to at night and the thing she woke up to. Not having it felt foreign to her. ​

Though the meditation, she felt something press against her. Her connection to the Force dampened but not nulled. She was able to reach out slightly, only to feel the aura that pressed against her. It was determined and searching. It longed for something. With her being nearly cut off from the Force, she couldn't fully understand who it belonged. ​

Her heart dreaded to see who had come to see her. At first, she wondered if the first face she would see would be Ryv's. Yet, when she searched for him through the Force, she felt his heart feel nothing for her. He had given up, and he had forgotten. Remembering it now, she smiled - it was for the best. They weren't right for each other. Both of them were too broken and determined to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. That kind of romance only brought heartache. He was better off, hating her - like the others. ​

Another thought lingered and wondered if it was going to be Loske or Maynard. Neither got the answers they wanted. What the Imperials did on Bastion had shortened her fight with the Blonde. She could still feel the tears that fell from the woman's eyes, pattering against her cheeks as she lay dying in the Kiffar's arms. Death was so close - yet it denied her again. Seeing Loske cry, it was the worst scene that anything the Corellian had seen in her career. Never did she want to be the source of making someone like her friend cry again. Allyson hoped the person around the corner was Loske, but she had her doubts. She would have to answer the woman's questions another time. ​

She had hurt many others, and she wondered if they would be the ones to see her. But there was one face that she dreaded seeing above all the others, and it was that face that she heard speak her name. It was the face that started all of this, the one that drove her to leave, to abandon, and it was the one she had failed the greatest. As a Master, you are meant to protect and guide your student through the Force. Teach them how to be good Jedi and ensure that they make it. That day haunted her, and she could feel her heart leap with happiness, knowing that he survived and that she didn't kill him. ​

From her seat, she looked up. Amber eyes met azure as she stared into the face of her first student. He had grown and was different from remembering him, but that same fire burned inside his heart. She didn't know what to say to him, and sorry didn't feel like it could do the past year and a half justice. The Master stood to her feet and walked to the cell's bars and stared up at the boy. "Zaavik." She spoke his name, which she hadn't said in almost five hundred and fifty-two galactic standard days. Her voice strained as she spoke his word, but there was a hint of a small smile. "Zaavik. You're alive." Allyson didn't dare call him padawan. She didn't deserve to call him that. He wasn't her student in her mind - she had failed him, and he deserved much better than the double agent. ​

"I'm surprised, but I'm sure you have questions."​

 

[Kat Decoria]

The news of Allyson Locke's imprisonment was widespread, especially in the Galactic Alliance, Kat had been in the area exploring the GA's way of life. The Echani was keeping on the move, rarely staying anywhere too long lately but when news hit that the GA had captured and imprisoned the supposed traitor. There was much surrounding Allyson that was confusing to Kat, joining the Sith and betraying all her friends did not seem like the Allyson that Kat knew, there was possibly more to the story but that didn't matter too much either to her. Allyson had never done anything to harm Kat personally so she figured that she would visit her friend and offer support. Even if Allyson did not want it currently, the Echani just remembered their last interaction which had been when Allyson taught her Mechu Deru, Kat had gotten a lot better with the Force power over the years since, but Allyson had been a crush for her early adult years.

Now, the 24 year old had grown more as a person, confident in her appearance and actions, while also stepping away from the Jedi. Not because she didn't believe in the Light Side, but felt that she needed to explore more of the galaxy. Her outfit for the day was a loose white shirt, a few of the top buttons undone, wearing tight trousers, knee high thick boots and some gloves. Her hair was braided neatly and her make up was minimal but dark which only empathised her pale skin. Kat hadn't been to prisons before so she wasn't too sure how things worked in them. Closest she got was when she had been taken prison over some gambling issues, Kat didn't care for that too much, beating her way free. However, she doubted the GA would have as minimal staff as that gambling den.

Entering the visitor entrance of the prison, Kat looked around and saw that there were people looking to meet family and friends, or perhaps looking to talk to someone for information, variety of people that were in the room. Kat made her way to the desk, waiting patiently to speak to someone about seeing Allyson, figuring that there would be plenty of people wanting to talk to her, either for answers or to offer her support. Or at least Kat figured there would be people wanting to help her. When an officer return to the desk, they looked at Kat as she offered a warm smile to them as they asked her who she was here to visit. "Allyson Locke." Kat said, the office raised an eyebrow and shrugged, clearly making a judgement in their head about Allyson before typing away at a computer then turning back to Kat.

"Someone else is currently visiting her, you will have to wait." They stated in a cool tone, Kat nodded her head and politely thanked the guard before she settled on a seat, crossing her legs. Pondering on what she should say to the Corellian.

Allyson Locke

 

[Zaavik Perl]

// MILITARY PRISON, CORUSCANT //
// Better Off Dead //
// Allyson Locke //

​

A cold, unwavering deadpan met his old Master's enthusiastic accusation from the other side of the glass. An apathy as unfeeling as the metallic door between them. Or, was it really? Like many of the 'faces' Zaavik often wore it was a mask, a facade, a lie. With a stubborn focus, he steeled his tangible emotions to a void, seeking to keep his feelings hidden from his former master. Likely a fruitless feat, but Zaavik was going to try anyway. Even in the face of such emotional strife, he wasn't discouraged. Never.

Zaavik blinked slowly, the corners of his lips and the line of his brow all resisting the urge to contort into a scowl. "Yeah," he began quietly, only just loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. His tongue peeked between his teeth and fidgeted within the gap between his teeth and lower lip, the only tell being the sudden bulge in his closed lips. Though, visually he was a wall, deep within those Zeltronian globes was an erratic storm of confliction.

"How about: What the fuck, Allyson!?" Zaavik shouted, sending his voice bouncing from wall to wall of the corridor. With the outburst, the anger and frustration burst from the mental floodgates. All at once, it washed over his spiritual vicinity, rushing indiscriminately in all directions. A menacing flame kindled beneath Allyson's feet, Zaavik now in a wide-eyed stare from the other side of the glass. His heavy, labored breaths projected a fog upon the viewport that slowly grew and shrunk.

"I waited, you know? I figured you of all people would have the decency to come see me after I nearly bit the dust before you decided to go off and do something stupid like commit treason!" His vermillion digits ran through his violet strands, gripping for a moment as the frustration was almost too much. "And defecting to the Sith Empire? What kind of Jedi-?" A clench of gnashing denticulation cut his reprimand short as he took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. Away from the window he took a half step, looking to the ceiling before squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to look back to Allyson.

"Why?" He wanted something, anything that could coax him into forgiving her. Forgiveness and letting go were part of the 'Jedi Way', after all. Though, this went much deeper than some religious code; Zaavik just wanted answers. For the sake of everything they'd been through, he hoped she had some justifiable motive, though part of him knew that was a stretch. He didn't want to be angry, he wanted to understand.

Fear lingered in the background, waiting around the corner of their coming conversation. He was scared. Scared that her reason might not make anything better, or force forbid, make it worse.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Coruscant //:
//: Military Prison //:
//: Zaavik Perl //:
//: Prisoner #1352 //: Allyson Locke //: Traitor to the Alliance //:

Even through the weakened Force connection, she seemed to still have with the padawan, she felt his anger. It appeared she was unable to cut him off completely. Maybe like Loske, she couldn’t find it in her heart to do so. His anger shook the screen that separated them, but Allyson didn’t move. A part of her was proud that her orchestrated plan had gone off quite well to the point where even the padawans knew of her betrayal. If only the mission had gone according to plan if only she had been able to find her way deeper into Carnifex’s circle and then finally finish everything. Instead, she was here, with the label of a traitor with nothing to show for it. ​

​

Allyson let him finish as she nodded, showing her understanding of his anger. Zaavik had been told what the others knew, what she allowed them to see. Once he was done, Allyson sighed softly. “You only know part of the story, the part that I wanted you to know.” Folding her arms in front of her, she hesitated on telling him the truth. It was hard for her, Allyson Locke was taught to lie, to believe those lies until they were the truth. “First off, I had a mission that I couldn’t take you on, especially after what happened. You were better off staying in the Alliance where they can keep you safe.” It was the truth, Zaavik couldn’t accompany her on the infiltration. Even then, if she did bring him along as a handler of sorts - she doubted he could have handled the things he would have seen. ​

​

“After you entered the hospital, a job crossed my desk. The mission was black operations, in a simple sense, a suicide mission. Time was of the essence, and I couldn’t put you in danger again.” It was the truth. The mission had an urgency attached to it. With the war between the New Imperials and the Sith Empire hitting a point of no return, Allyson needed to act. “My mission was to assassinate the Dark Lord. I hav-had the best track record when facing him. I needed to get close, gain his trust, join his inner circle as a double agent. I never betrayed the Alliance, I never betrayed the Jedi.” Shaking her head, she could hear her voice quivering. She knew what had happened on Borosk, and it ended up being worse than she had planned. The fibers of her mind fraying during that time only made things worse. ​

​

Even then, her mind thought fond thoughts of the Echani she had left behind, worry hung heavy in her heart, knowing that only terrible things awaited the Lord Inquisitor. Allyson hoped that the woman’s silver tongue could work in her favor - keeping the murderers at bay. ​

​

“The Alliance and the New Imperials needed to think I had betrayed them, they had to burn me from their intelligence agencies and the bounties. Without them, the Sith were only going to be suspicious. Once they saw the SIA cut me off, I was pulled into the circle - I was allowed to finally get close to Carnifex. I just had to wait for my time.” There was frustration that built in her throat. It strained against her attempt at remaining calm. Everything had been working out, everyone hated her, the Sith welcomed her, and she was so close. Loske had gotten in the way, the SIA had gotten in the way, and here she was a prisoner. Allyson hadn’t thought of a way to get out of the aftermath. She had assumed her demise was at the hands of the Emperor, both of them with a one-way ticket to the netherworld where she would have spent an eternity fighting him, making sure he couldn’t resurrect. That was the sacrifice she was willing to make - that’s what a Jedi did. A hand hit the plastic barrier as she cursed under her breath in Old Corellian. The plan had been perfect. Nothing was supposed to go wrong. Her voice finally showed her emotions as she nearly shouted the truth at the boy. “Zaavik, I was commanded to kill the Emperor at all costs. There was no coming back home for me. I had to do what I was ordered to do because I AM a good Jedi I AM a good soldier.”​

​

Pushing away from the plastic, she sighed, “Things didn’t go as planned, people got too emotionally involved, and here I am. Labeled a traitor to the Jedi and the Alliance.” Sighing softly, she rested her hand against her cheek and pondered. “I didn’t do things as right as I should. I know that. I did things the way they seemed to work out best. How I did, it was selfish and chose to think I was protecting people.” Her eyes peeled away as she finished softly, “What I’ve told you is the truth; there’s no reason for me to lie anymore. So do with it what you wish.”​

 

[Zaavik Perl]

// MILITARY PRISON, CORUSCANT //
// Allyson Locke //

​

"Suicide mission," Zaavik echoed softly, turning his gaze to the floor with his nostrils flared with obvious discontent. His fist clenched tightly, fingernails digging into the flesh on his palm. "Even if you couldn't tell me anything, you could have at the very least graced me with the privilege of seeing you again before you just threw your life away!" The Zeltron groaned impatiently, shaking his head and running vermillion digits through violet locks, eyelids twitching to hold fluids back.

After a deep breath to contain himself, he began to speak again. "So, we're really that expendable? Suicide missions? And for what, so that you could maybe assassinate the Sith Emperor? So that someone else can take his place once they've taken you down? Doesn't that sound stupid to you?" Flat upon the cold metal, his hands spread to support his lean as he grew closer to the window, just short of pressing his nose against it.

Zaavik shook his head in a series of small twitches, unable to totally articulate the gesture. A translucent drop liquid streaming down his left cheek. "That's if any of that is even true to begin with. You've been gone so long- a-and your presence in the force... it feels different. How do I know they didn't get to you, and now you're just feeding me something that works for you?" Stepping backwards, the Padawan squared himself up to align with the face of his, now former master.

"I thought it was my fault this whole time. I thought that if only I had watched my step a little better, I wouldn't have ever been swarmed by those force-damned rakghouls and driven you off. Now, you tell me you left to throw your life away for something that probably wouldn't even make a difference and you couldn't even say goodbye in some vague way!? I'm not sure which is worse!"

Was the Alliance, or the Jedi Order even really that dismissive to the individual? Perhaps he was being naive, but something about throwing someone away for nothing didn't seem right to him. Was it a lie, or a horrible truth? Did his expendable status stick with him, even beyond the reach of the malicious cartels on Zeltros? If he was expected to die on someone else's terms even now, what was the point of even being a Jedi? To be the Alliance's dog?

Not every sentiment regurgitated was rooted in total rationality. Feelings were swelling, bleeding over and smothering the rational parts of his mind. In the force, these things were only amplified. Once again, the glasteel rattled within its housing upon the door. Zaavik seethed, staring intensely through Allyson rather than at her. Suddenly, vermillion fist struck the metallic door with a loud resonant clang, harmonized together with the crunching of bones. A juvenile display bursting forth from the dam of restraint.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Coruscant //:
//: Military Prison //:
//: Zaavik Perl //:
//: Prisoner #1352 //: Allyson Locke //: Traitor to the Alliance //:

The Corellian didn't flinch at his physical outburst. The sound echoed, but the guards didn't react. Allyson had expected this; she knew that she would have to face everyone that she had abandoned if she returned. A part of her hoped that the mission would kill her, so she didn't have to face the crimes. Though that was a coward way, and Allyson Locke was just feeling sorry for herself. She lost Zaavik; she could feel it. There was nothing about her that was fit to be a Master to the Padawan. ​

​

He was set down the same path she was; if she could convince him, maybe teach him that they weren't dogs and that he had a chance to be something more - perhaps she could save him. It would be the last thing she could do as a failed master to the man. ​

​

Exhaling softly, she tried to not picture him as the young Zeltron boy that she had come across so many times before this. He was always so brave despite his circumstances. Seeing him like this bothered her, and she knew her choices were the reason. ​

​

"I left while you were in the hospital. As selfish as it was, I couldn't say goodbye. I couldn't tell anyone what was happening because if I did, and something happened." She looked away, remembering the moment she had put Kaili in danger the first time, the first time she had been captured. "The last thing I wanted was for you to get caught in the crossfire again." She added. She knew his past; they crossed paths several times. Her voice cracked slightly, fighting back the emotions tightening in her chest, "As for my aura, I'm fine. I've been concealing the Force for some time and giving false - it happens its part of being in deep cover. I've only been back and actually myself for a week or so, Zaavik. I understand the concern, but I know there's not much I can do to convince you." ​

​

Standing was getting hard; she could feel the wound that burned against the length of her torso. It was still healing, and she pushed away from the door and sat on the edge of the bed. Breathing hurt, but she inhaled deeply as she pondered the rest of the Zeltron's words. She had hurt him, just like she had hurt the others. Loske begged her for the truth, something that Allyson always struggled to figure out - find that line. She was trying, though. A spy telling the truth, the thought made her chuckle softly under her breath. ​

​

"Zaavik, none of this is your fault. You shouldn't burden yourself with the blame for my actions. I took them fully knowing the consequences." She paused and remembered her first day with the SIS back in the first Alliance. "When I joined the first Alliance, the first Intelligence branch I ever joined. They told me I didn't matter, I was a ghost, and my life didn't belong to me. At seventeen, with nothing to my name - it's hard not to believe it. It gave me a purpose Zaavik. I'd be lying if I didn't say I regretted taking the job, but if I could have done one good thing in my life - given the good guys an edge even if it was small, then I had done what I was trained for." ​

​

Allyson shook her head. "Things are different. I regret doing what I did and how I did it. Hurting you, Hurting Loske, making everyone believe that I was with the Empire. It didn't do anything but hurt people. But I'm a Spy, a Shadow, and a ghost for the Alliance." She could feel his emotions all over the place. It was the effects of her undeveloped bond with him. Allyson cared for the Zeltros like an older sister would care for a sibling. His bond had survived the culling, one of the few that did. "Zaavik, you can't harbor this anger. What can I do? I'm sorry for all of this, but in the end - it kept you safe, and if it means I'll be repaying this debt to you for the rest of my life, then so be it." ​

​

She looked at him, her eyes catching his as she spoke. "I'd do it again every single time. As your Master, it was my job to protect you, and that's exactly what I did."​

 

[Zaavik Perl]

// MILITARY PRISON, CORUSCANT //
// Allyson Locke //

​

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Pain shot through the crooked bones in his hand and into the point of his elbow. A stinging numbness began to conquer every nerve. Zaavik hardly noticed. The heavy, angry breaths eventually slowed to a neutral pace. He turned his chin up to look back at Allyson through the viewport. His lips quaked, fluctuating between a resisted frown and a forced scowl. A mask. Emotion rushed in a horrible menagerie of things he really didn't want to feel. He wanted it all to stop.

"You can feel within yourself. Anger, passion. The hesitation of such thoughts. One so young as yourself surely should be second-guessing all around them." ​

Was this 'peace' all a lie?

These were the kinds of feelings all Padawans were warned about. This lightsaber was his harness, and the code was his leash. And for what? Expendability? Facades of Charity? Zaavik felt sick. "So now what?" he asked. "You rot here?" Teeth gritted together tightly. The pain of the edge of his tongue being pinched didn't seem to bother him. Nor did the shooting pain that came from the involuntary squeezing of his broken extremity.

“You’ve shown exceptional skill, and I’m honored to be your Master."​

No facial acrobatics could hold the tears in anymore. "All because of a lie and failure?" Allyson's explanations splattered fruitlessly against Zaavik's brick wall of stubbornness. Defiant to his own functions, Zaavik squeezed his eyes shut to staunch the waterworks. "Who did you think I'd have here? Ryv ? Auteme ? Maynard Treicolt and Loske Treicolt ? They're all still like strangers to me. I see them almost every day, and it's like none of us exist to one another." Zaavik hissed through his teeth, muttering some crude Zeltronian rebuke to himself. There was a hated in his heart. A hatred he couldn't place. One that'd misplaced itself onto the New Jedi Order, and now moved to latch onto Allyson.

How do I break these chains?

"They told me I didn't matter, I was a ghost, and my life didn't belong to me." ​

What kind of life can you live, when it doesn't belong to you? If you aren't free, you might as well be dead.

"You should have taken me with you," an ironic sentiment given the nature of his turmoil.

"It's going to be okay; we have to do this together."​

Ironic it may have been, but she'd never left him behind before.