Private Eye of The Storm

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Wearing: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber | Location: Hyperspace | Tag: Gatz Derrevar​

Briana's fingers clenched and unclenched with restless tension, betraying her still-frayed nerves from the unexpected intrusion. He wasn't going to get any argument from her on leaving behind the shielding exercises, not now anyway. "I don't know for sure," she sighed, leaning her head back against the loveseat, eyes fixed on the ceiling above while replaying the sequence of events in her mind.

It'd seemed so harmless, tapping into her emotions and memories from the Cataclysm as a resource for their exercise. After all, three long years had passed since that event, and while it still carried a lingering sting, those memories felt more distanced and manageable than more recent wounds that bled fresh in her mind. Most of the Padawans from the Order undoubtedly would have been able to endure the exercise, but... Gatz, Gatz hadn't been part of the Order in years; and all those unfiltered images and emotions that she'd unintentionally gleaned from him, was enough to convey just how wrong she'd been to assume he would cope similarly.

His attempts to reassure her, somehow, made Briana feel that much worse about it.

"It's possible," she finally continued, "that when my memories triggered yours, it set off a telekinetic impulse between our minds... but it's strange." Her voice trailed off as she thought about what she knew regarding telepathic connections. "Normally only prolonged use of a meld reacts that way." Stories of melders who became so attuned to one another through repeated sessions that their minds began to read each other like transceivers receiving comm waves were widely documented. In extreme cases, their relentless connection even influenced each other's emotions and states of mind. "But I'm not a healer... so I don't know exactly what happened, just that it did." Romi had once told her that nothing with the Force ever happened by coincidence, but Briana struggled to understand what possible motives the Force might of had with this.

​

The room fell into an awkward silence as they sat side by side while Briana wrestled with her thoughts, unsure whether or not she should be asking Gatz about what she'd glimpsed from his memories and emotions — or ask if he'd caught anything from hers.

After several heartbeats her lips parted to speak, before ultimately thinking better of it and snapping her mouth closed again. They'd only known each other for little over a standard hour, tops; even though the meld created an illusion that made her feel like she'd known him for much longer than that. Regardless, if Gatz wanted to share, he would — it wouldn't be fair to make him feel like he was obligated to talk about his personal memories and experiences just because she'd gotten a glimpse behind the curtain.

"Look, I'm not going to pry," Briana began, trying to give him the room for autonomy and control. "But if you want to discuss what happened... those memories... we can. If not? That's alright too."

​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Briana Sal-Soren

Briana leaned back to look at the ceiling, Gatz doubled over to look at the floor.

It wasn't that Gatz expected a Jedi to have all the answers to his questions about the Force. Even Valery's knowledge was lacking in certain areas. And the Force was a wide and deep ocean, the depths of which no one would ever fully explore. But when Briana admitted her ignorance to what in the world they'd just done together, Gatz couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"There never is a simple answer with the Force." Gatz sighed, "why do I feel like our lives just got much more complicated?"

His mind was a whirlwind, unpacked from the neat little box Gatz tried to keep it in, spiraling out of control, looking for something it was missing. It took Gatz a second to realize that his mind was looking for Briana's. That he felt... disconnected and lacking, and that he was subconsciously searching for the missing pieces to a puzzle he hadn't known was incomplete—not until now.

One moment. A brief connection between them. A spattering of memories passed to one another. That was all it had taken to make Gatz feel as though he'd known Briana his whole life; to make him feel empty without her mind touching his. A woman he didn't even know, who he'd spent literally an hour tops with, and suddenly he felt... connected to her. Bound. Bonded.

He knew the Force worked in mysterious ways, but come on! He'd spent the last year bettering himself, and trying to put some good into the galaxy. But it didn't change the fact that he was an impoverished, rough, scoundrel. She was nobility, graceful, and a Jedi Knight. They were, literally, diametrically opposed to one another. What reason could the Force have for not only bringing them together, but also tying their minds together?

Gatz felt incredibly awkward, a feeling he knew Briana shared: both because he could feel it in the Force, and because some silences simply carried that kind of energy with them. That was fine: it gave him time to riffle through the few memories she'd accidentally imparted to him, much like he assumed she was doing with his own.

A sense of anticipation. A lightsaber in his—her hands that didn't feel like it belonged to her. Endless waves of shadows, that didn't seem to recede no matter how many he—she cut down.

Briana lingered on shadows. He lingered on Shadows. Funny, that. Maybe they weren't so different after all.

"I'm not sure if it matters that you don't want to pry," Gatz muttered, "I don't blame you, but even now, I can... feel my mind searching for yours. If we try that again... well, one way or another, I think you're going to see it for yourself."

Gatz let out a shaky sigh. What Briana was asking after... it wasn't something he spoke of. Ever. It was something he buried down deep, in the darkest recesses of his mind, in the hopes that it would never see the light of day again.

"I don't know how to talk about it," Gatz admitted, "but what about you? I've got a few memories of yours floating around my head now. They don't seem very pleasant either."

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Wearing: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber | Location: | Tag: Gatz Derrevar ​

"Because they have," Briana quipped, feeling the ripple of Gatz's disappointment as keenly as if it were indeed her own, yet there was nothing she could offer him — aside from an abundance of speculation and tin-foil theories.

What'd happened was entirely new, with the sole person she'd ever shared something similar with being her brother, Brandyn Sal-Soren .

...And perhaps that was where the problem lied.

She'd shattered after the death of her parents, entirely emptied of everything, save for that quiet anger that bubble just beneath the surface. Anger at Brandyn for not telling her the truth, and anger at herself for not seeing it sooner. She'd sprinted from those shadows, doing everything in her power to try and block him out. To block out the dyad. But, perhaps now, it was seeking other ways to express itself; and who could be more suitable than Gatz?

Briana had seen the edge of that abyss Gatz lingered on, it was not so unlike the one she often found herself teetering along most days. Perhaps it was just... fate — a notion Briana loathed to consider. Fate implied a lack of choice, as if the future was already written.

There are no coincidences.

Briana stubbornly shook her head, inhaled a sharp breath through her teeth. "Heh... well, you're right. I have my fair share of unpleasant memories, too. That one? That was the night of the Cataclysm, and not something I really talk about either," There was Aiden, and less than a handful of others who knew the full breadth of it all. "Hard to make someone understand the whole experience without being there yourself, you know?" Finally, apprehensive eyes moved to look at his, her lips parting as if she were going to say something, before snapping shut with whatever it was dying on her lips. What could possibly be said, that would make this situation any better?

​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Briana Sal-Soren

Of all the people to develop some sort of Force Bond with, a Jedi Knight was probably the worst option for him. Gatz had done... many things he wasn't proud of. Killed plenty of people, usually in self-defense, but often over drugs or whatever else he'd been hauling. Nothing important enough to actually take lives over. He'd beaten people. Stolen from people. Cheated people. Spent six years of his life hurting people in more ways than he could probably count, all for his own family, never thinking about anyone else but him and his mother.

He'd murdered a man. A man deserving of it, but it was murder all the same.

Still, Gatz forced himself not to linger on that, lest he unintentionally give Briana more memories to riffle through. So instead, he focused on her words about the Cataclysm, and how it was a memory not unlike Gatz's own trauma with Jedi Shadows and their cruel ways.

"I wasn't on world for that." Gatz muttered, unable to look Briana in the eye, "I was on Nar Shaddaa doing... I don't even remember what. Probably stealing from, or beating, or shooting someone over spice. Nothing worth doing while my home and my family were in danger."

Anger burned in him, turned inwards as it always was. One year removed from his old ways, and already Gatz couldn't understand how he'd ever been that man. How he'd been able to avoid the guilt. How he'd been able to live with himself knowing that his very profession led to people overdosing on drugs, leaving families behind. Who he'd been—oh, who was he kidding, who he was was not a good man.

He was scum.

And this Jedi was stuck with him, and him with her. His mind was still reaching out, without his consent, for hers. He knew, somehow, that it would never stop until it got what it wanted. That had to be addressed. So, finally, Gatz turned to look at Briana.

"What do we do now, then?" He asked, "you and me? We're inexplicably linked, despite not knowing the first thing about each other. I still need you to tutor me on shielding my mind—something that, if we attempt again, I feel is going to tie us even closer together. And we still have the problem of deranged terrorists dropping a bioweapon on our home."

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Wearing: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber | Location: Space | Tag: Gatz Derrevar ​

It seemed as if death persistently haunted her footsteps, from the Cataclysm that'd claimed the lives of numerous childhood friends and associates, continuing through the war against the Maw, and ultimately culminating in the loss of her parents — that when Briana heard Gatz hadn't been on Naboo, a part of her felt strangely... relieved. "You would have been killed," she stated plainly. "and if that had happened, who else could I have turned to for assistance with this mission? A mentor of mine once said there are no coincidences in the Force. You were exactly where you needed to be." Whether Briana truly believed that, was still up for debate — though, little by little she was gradually finding herself more inclined to embracing the viewpoint.

After all, how many times had it proven true in her own life?

"As for what we do next," Briana sighed, a hand tousling through her hair. "For the moment, we'll lean into it..." She stood up and brushed off her canvas pants. "The mind meld might not be ideal, but it could be a silver lining. With our thoughts connected, I won't need to teach you mental shielding. As long as we concentrate on the same goal, you should be able to replicate my actions. It's technically cheating, but I think it's our best option, given the circumstances." Did this gambit risk further intertwining them? Yes... but Briana couldn't bear the crushing weight of someone else suffering harm under her watch – not again. It was best to exploit their present resources and face any potential fallout later on.

Suddenly, the shrill wail of proximity alarms pierced the air, Briana's lips pulled into a frown, her brows furrowing. Had they already been down here that long? "I suppose that's our signal to move?"

​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Briana Sal-Soren

"Please. Scum like me are a dime a dozen. I'm sure you'd have found someone else to fly you."

Briana was right, of course. What could he have done against something as devastating as the Cataclysm? He could still see the shadows in her memories: black as the void, and never ending. Even her glowing blade hadn't shone with enough light to banish them. So what could he have done with a blaster pistol and an overinflated ego?

Die. Not exactly a reassuring thought.

And yet, Gatz couldn't help but wonder how many more people would be alive, if he had been on Naboo to die that day.

Gatz shook his head free of that thought. This wasn't exactly the time to dwell on the blood that stained his hands. Not when a Jedi Knight was slammed up against his mind; there were things he didn't want Briana to know. He'd shot a lot of people. Almost always because they'd shot at him first, but... maybe some of them had deserved to live. Instead, most of them had died over the same thing: the value of spice.

He'd been protecting his cargo, and his life, sure. But at the end of the day, he'd killed over drugs. Killed scores. She'd find out one day, if his inability to keep his deepest trauma away from her was anything to go by, but that didn't mean Gatz was in any hurry to expedite the process. So when Briana suggested that they lean into this newfound meld of theirs, Gatz shivered. Trepidation? Anticipation? He didn't know. Really, it didn't matter. It had to happen either way, if they wanted to survive Csilla.

"Well," Gatz decided on levity over angst, "if there's anything a scoundrel—former or otherwise—loves, it's cheating."

The Red Night's proximity alarm went off, and Gatz blinked in surprise. Was it really that time already? He stood quickly. Though they had ample time to make their way to the cockpit, Gatz didn't want to dawdle. Not when they were jumping headfirst into an asteroid field. So he half jogged back down the hall to the cockpit, assuming the duchess would follow him.

Gatz slid into his seat easily, blue hues washing over him as he reached for the hyperspace lever. For once, R4 was quiet, rocking silently in his spot between the pilot and co-pilot's seat. That was something new: his uncle's droid was nervous. Gatz thought about saying something, but how did one reassure a 900-year-old astromech?

"Alright," Gatz sighed, head tilting in Briana's direction, "if we're gonna, uh, meld again, we better do it now."

Gatz waited a few moments to feel Briana press even deeper into his mind, and then throttled down from hyperspace.