Aryn Ladhar
Aryn sat at a out of the way table, in a out of the way canteen on a out of the way planet. Barely six months had passed since the battle of Jakku and she was now a fugitive from the Jedi. Though that was only an assumption. For all she knew. The Jedi assumed her dead on Jakku with the other Jedi. But she has no want or desire to return to them. They had betrayed her. Sides with a Sith over her. Forced her to kill other Jedi and her own men. She hated them. But she hated the Sith more.
She was debating on a trip to Korriban. Breaching the planets atmosphere, getting to the surface and killing as many Sith as she couldn't before she herself was slain. She had debated on many thing. She debated on suck starting a blaster. She had even debated returning to the Jedi temple and forcing the Jedi to fight and end her life. But, her anger was too strong for that. The wrongs she had suffered to prevalent in her mind. She had plenty of reasons to live. And at the top of that list was revenge for the men the Sith forced her to kill.
The atmosphere of the canteen faded away to muted sounds of nothing as she fell into the force. Drawing it about her like a security blanket. The music and commerce faded to a dull unimportant roar, and she was on the cuff that serenity she so desperately craved. But just as the world faded about her, other sounds forced themselves in. No, not sounds. Ghost. Screams. Blaster fire. Smoke. Burning cordite. Blood. Death. Fear. Grief. Pain. The feel of the cold metal of her lightsaber. The pain and confusion as life left...
She sat up straight panting. She had broke out in a heavy sweat and her ears were ringing. She looked around under the cowl of her hood, but no one paid any mind to her sudden jerk. She sat back in the booth and stared at the drink she had yet to touch.
She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. She barely slept anymore. Most nights ended with one to two hours of sleep until her body simply gave out and forced her into unconsciousness. And even then, her dreams were plagued with nightmares and memories. She got up and moved to the bar where she ordered some food. Why it was didn't matter so much as long as it was edible. The robes she wore made her shapeless giving no hints to her gender or actual size, and she was tall for a woman. Most there were like her though. Travelers, rogues, refugees, or criminals, all engrossed in their own business. No one paid her much mind. She gave the bar keep the required currency, and accepted her bowel of food. It looked like broth with chunks of meat in it, but food was food.
She returned to her table and sat down again. She needed a distraction from herself. The band wasn't providing that. Nor was the food, as bland and tasteless as it was. Her empathic communion with the force caused her to feel the emotional state of everyone in the room. From a young age she learned to block it out, or at least reduce it to a dull sense of unimportance, but her concentration was on the fritz, and sledge hammers of raw emotions kept pounding her down. She once again reached for the force. Drew it about her like curtain. That seemed to help. She turned the act of eating into a ritual. Each bite, each flex of her jaw, each swallow itself a focal point for her concentration. Steadily she regained some semblance of control. Pushing the ghost of memories away and shoving them back into the box she kept for them in her mind. She knew they would get out again, but for now at least, they were contained.
She was debating on a trip to Korriban. Breaching the planets atmosphere, getting to the surface and killing as many Sith as she couldn't before she herself was slain. She had debated on many thing. She debated on suck starting a blaster. She had even debated returning to the Jedi temple and forcing the Jedi to fight and end her life. But, her anger was too strong for that. The wrongs she had suffered to prevalent in her mind. She had plenty of reasons to live. And at the top of that list was revenge for the men the Sith forced her to kill.
The atmosphere of the canteen faded away to muted sounds of nothing as she fell into the force. Drawing it about her like a security blanket. The music and commerce faded to a dull unimportant roar, and she was on the cuff that serenity she so desperately craved. But just as the world faded about her, other sounds forced themselves in. No, not sounds. Ghost. Screams. Blaster fire. Smoke. Burning cordite. Blood. Death. Fear. Grief. Pain. The feel of the cold metal of her lightsaber. The pain and confusion as life left...
She sat up straight panting. She had broke out in a heavy sweat and her ears were ringing. She looked around under the cowl of her hood, but no one paid any mind to her sudden jerk. She sat back in the booth and stared at the drink she had yet to touch.
She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. She barely slept anymore. Most nights ended with one to two hours of sleep until her body simply gave out and forced her into unconsciousness. And even then, her dreams were plagued with nightmares and memories. She got up and moved to the bar where she ordered some food. Why it was didn't matter so much as long as it was edible. The robes she wore made her shapeless giving no hints to her gender or actual size, and she was tall for a woman. Most there were like her though. Travelers, rogues, refugees, or criminals, all engrossed in their own business. No one paid her much mind. She gave the bar keep the required currency, and accepted her bowel of food. It looked like broth with chunks of meat in it, but food was food.
She returned to her table and sat down again. She needed a distraction from herself. The band wasn't providing that. Nor was the food, as bland and tasteless as it was. Her empathic communion with the force caused her to feel the emotional state of everyone in the room. From a young age she learned to block it out, or at least reduce it to a dull sense of unimportance, but her concentration was on the fritz, and sledge hammers of raw emotions kept pounding her down. She once again reached for the force. Drew it about her like curtain. That seemed to help. She turned the act of eating into a ritual. Each bite, each flex of her jaw, each swallow itself a focal point for her concentration. Steadily she regained some semblance of control. Pushing the ghost of memories away and shoving them back into the box she kept for them in her mind. She knew they would get out again, but for now at least, they were contained.
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