Private I call it "aggressive negotiations."

[Caltin Vanagor]

REDEMPTION IS NEVER OUT OF REACH...​

Location: Corellia​

Equipment: Conservator(Lightsaber), Vanguard(Backup Lightsaber)​

Comm-link, Rebreather, Custom Robes​

Starship: Starlight Sentinel​

Companion: Astromech R01R - "Roller", Pilot droid Mu51c - "Music"​

Desbre Gensan , Milya Vondar (both unless specified)​

Tag: Ryv​

​

The Core World of Corellia, a founding member of the Old Republic, a technological, sociological, economical mecca in the galaxy. This was not his homeworld, Coruscant was, but Caltin used to spend a lot of time on this planet. It was the birthplace of his daughter Alyscia and it was where he met "The one that got away", though she was found again. Truth is Caltin always enjoyed coming here, the past two trips, including this one, not so much. It's not that the planet changed for the worse or anything, there was always some wonderful and some horrible areas, that was the way of every populated rock, but the big guy was here to visit the tomb of his daughter Alyscia, and what looked to be her husband, daughters, and son. That was a very eventful morning for his emotions, as while he held it together, it was his daughter, it was depressing. In truth it made him want to write her a letter, just to get some things off of his chest and for the therapy of it.​

​

Yeah, there was no Republic anymore, not in the way he remembered, there was no Empire, again, not in the way he remembered. It seemed now that everything was "Chaos".​

​

Really? Puns?​

​

That was a play on words.​

​

Semantics.​

​

Surprised you know that word.​

​

Same education as you...​

​

Good point. Anyway, Caltin was not expecting to be treated the way he used to be on this trip, the last one he showed no signs of his affinity to the Force, after all, "The Silvers" were not exactly welcomed guests. The massive Jedi Master did walk around Coronet, he was not in his normal "robes" he was in street clothes, but his lightsabers were in full view. Did this bring him some kind of celebrity? Some kind of bile? Not for him to say or think about, so it was not his concern or problem, why dwell? He simply visited a few sites, the college, the government center there was also the site of the old Green Jedi Temple which was now the site of one of those gawdy stimcaf vendor spots. Stimcaf was fine, but nine credits for a ... wait... "tall"? "Grande"? What the Sithspit is "Grande"? "Venti?" What the frell? Moving on, he was hungry. There was a bistro he used to frequent across from the college when he visited Alyscia, and amazingly enough, it was still in operation. There were a lot of looks his way when he walked in, but no one seemed to want to turn Caltin away, so he continued on. After all... he was hungry and you do not want to see him when he is hungry... okay he is not really any different, but whatever.​

​

The layout was different, more wood, meh it was fine. Taking a seat at the bar, the big guy ordered an appetizer and a Corellian Ale. He wasn't much of a drinker anymore but "When in Theed...". After a few moments of looking over the menu and figuring out what he wanted, there was a voice in the back of his head. It was weird, the voice wasn't his, he couldn't place it at first, but it was familiar a memory. The voice was complaining about what he said, or what he meant or whatever, the point is it was getting louder and louder. No, he did not hear anyone speaking to him, it was loud as feth in there, but it was as if the Force was trying to tell him something. After another moment or three, it made sense now. It was that Kiffar who lead that little kindergarten class of light-siders to barge into the teacher's lounge.​

​

Be nice.​

​

You weren't nice.​

​

I don't have to.​

​

Anyway, the memory was a mystery to Caltin. Why now?​

​

...YOU JUST HAVE TO REACH FOR IT.

​

 

[Ryv]

Hate Me​

Graveyards were strange places. Their keepers put effort into maintenance, oftentimes trying to pretty them up, make them out to be something better than what they truly were. From the outside, one might mistake the rolling fields of deep-green grass as a park. Random assortments of flowers littered various points throughout. Most people had to know all that effort wasn't for the dead. It was for the living which came to visit those they lost. The experience wasn't ever easy, be it the first time or the one-hundredth time. But at the end of the day, the facility's choice of exotic flowers from the Outer Rim didn't change that, no matter how rare or beautiful.

Rows of unmarked graves stretched as far as Ryv could see. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people were buried within this particular cemetery. He wandered throughout in silence; hands shoved into his jacket pockets, eyes cast on a different site he couldn't see quite yet. The path itself wasn't familiar, nor was the destination. He couldn't explain how he knew where to go. He just knew. Other visitors dotted his field of vision. Families stuck together, grieving in unison even though none of them could claim a particular gravestone.

A crowd gathered within the center of the cemetery. A sculpted chunk of marble rested on a raised dais of smooth brick, fitted together expertly, likely by master artisans. Many openly wept as they looked upon it.

Ryv moved through the crowd, eyes set on that very same ivory stone. He was careful in his approach. It wouldn't do to make someone's bad day already worse. Only his destination mattered, not how fast he got there. It made the march easier, knowing his current endeavor wasn't a race against time. This time, he didn't have to worry about what he'd come to find when he arrived.

He stepped from the crowd and climbed the few short steps onto the platform. Small inscriptions covered almost every inch of the stone. A closer look revealed names inscribed in a detailed script, each one given the utmost attention by whoever initially created it. It didn't take long for the details to fall away.

The pain he so carefully beat into submission over the last ten years made its appearance. Minutes passed by slower than he'd of liked. He felt his every breath come out harsher than he intended it. No matter how hard he tried, the kiffar couldn't push away that nagging sensation the many sets of eyes pitied him. Every time he met one of their gazes, a knowing glance was all they offered. Their attention turned elsewhere immediately after. It only deepened the pit within his stomach. Before he knew it, he was pushing back through the crowd, racing away from the beautiful stone and its many onlookers.

Unsure of where to go, he just ran. His legs carried him past hundreds of unmarked plaques, only stopping when the pain in his chest became too much to bear. He dropped to his knees amidst the manicured grass. Aside from his ragged breathing, he couldn't make out any other sounds nearby. A glance around him revealed no one else was around. He fell back on his bottom and stretched both legs outward, right hand sliding across the lush vegetation behind him. The sudden sensation of a cool, metallic surface stopped him midway. He gasped at the sudden onset of emotion. His eyes glazed over as memories flashed before the Jedi Knight's very eyes.

​

A lone figure stood before the very same plaque. His hair was slicked back, eyes downcast, attention set on the unmarked grave. The stranger knelt and ran a gloved hand across its surface. He withdrew several flowers from beneath his long, black coat, carefully bound together with a black ribbon. Though words were spoken, Ryv couldn't make them out. All he could feel was the raw pain emanating from whoever it was visiting the grave. Further inspection of the stranger revealed an uncomfortable rigidness to his frame. When he climbed back to his feet, the kiffar could see a clenched fist, knuckles bone-white from his tight grip. When he finally turned around, a familiar face greeted the Jedi Knight.

Amber eyes peered out from beneath two bushy black eyebrows. Stubble poked out all along his jawline, as well as just above his upper lip. His lips pulled back into a snarl, eyes narrowed, like something else was there, waiting behind him. Only nothing from his present greeted him.

Ryv stared into those familiar eyes in utter shock. He reached towards the man, his gloved hand shaking as he reached out to grab the echo by his shoulder.

"D-Dad?"

"Get the hell out of here," he snarled back. Without a second glance, he struck out, his ethereal hand passing through Ryv before it all faded away.

​

Tears streamed down Ryv's cheek when he came back to. His jaw dropped, mouth agape as he stared where the memory of his father had stood. He pressed his hand against the plaque again. When nothing happened, he tried it again, and again, and again... only, nothing else came from his touch. Neither the same vision nor another jumped into his mind. He tucked his knees beneath him and wiped away at the tears. None of it made any sense. His father couldn't have been there. He died months before Ryv's mother passed away back home on Coruscant.

"Wait," Ryv slowly looked back to the plaque. "If dad came here, then... this is..."

"Mom... mom, I-" more tears came crashing down, his entire body trembling. "I should've been there sooner. I just, I couldn't make it in time. I didn't know what was happening until it was too late. Coruscant, the One Sith, the Alliance, it all happened so fast... one minute, everything was normal, then the ships appeared out of hyperspace, an-" his voice cracked. No matter how many times he sniffled and rubbed at his face, he couldn't dry all his tears.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you, mom. I'm sorry I didn't make it in time," he sat back and pulled his knees to his chest. "I'm so sorry."

​

A few hours later, Ryv pushed open the door to a local bar and stepped inside. The wooden interior seemed a tad out of place, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He wandered over to the bar. By the time he managed to claim his seat, the bartender had noticed the jacket-clad kiffar and approached. He was a portly fella with a wide smile, a pair of baby blues as deep as the sea, and close-cropped black hair. A once-over of the man revealed several scars running along his arms from elbow to knuckles.

"How can I help ye?" the barkeep asked.

"Water, please," Ryv said.

"Water?" he perked a brow. "This is a bar, man. If you're only gonna drink water, I'm sure you can find somewhere else to loiter. Go to a Hutta Burger or something."

"Fine, man, get me water and a menu. I'll figure something out."

The bartender grabbed a glass, filled it with the kiffar's drink of choice, and slid it and a menu his way. Ryv took up the menu with one hand and the drink with the other. He gulped down the contents of the glass in one fell swoop before turning his attention to the menu. Flipping through the pages revealed various dishes, though nothing particularly stood out that quite fit his pallette.

"You got any recommendations for a vegetarian?" Ryv fit the bartender with a tired look. "Looks to me like all you got is fried food or whatever you can throw into a microwave."

"You like jogan?"

"As much as the next guy, I s'ppose."

"I'd recommend the jogan pie, then."

"Works for me," Ryv folded up the menu and slid it back to the barkeeper. While he put in the order, Ryv looked elsewhere in the bar. It wasn't the busiest place on the block. Half a dozen other patrons sat throughout, picking at half-eaten meals or drinking away the week's sorrows. Corellia had certainly come a long way in the decades since it belonged to the One Sith, but it still hadn't quite shaken that sense of hopelessness left in the Brotherhood's wake.

A ding at the door caught the kiffar's attention. He looked back just in time to catch Caltin's large form weaving through the various tables as he made his way towards the bar. Ryv turned back to his empty glass and sighed. Of all the days to run into the big guy, it had to be this one.

To make matters worse, Ryv's attempt at remaining incognito didn't last very long. Before he knew it, Caltin had placed him. The kiffar took a deep breath and offered the Jedi Master a nod.

"S'up."

Caltin Vanagor ​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

REDEMPTION IS NEVER OUT OF REACH...​

Location: Corellia​

Equipment: Conservator(Lightsaber), Vanguard(Backup Lightsaber)​

Comm-link, Rebreather, Custom Robes​

Starship: Starlight Sentinel​

Companion: Astromech R01R - "Roller", Pilot droid Mu51c - "Music"​

Tag: Ryv​

​

”S’up”? Why nothing much is ‘up’, what about yourself? “S’up” with you? “Master Jedi”?

Caltin almost let his younger, mouthy side out to play, but he was not that guy anymore. He was in a galaxy that he’d not won the respect of anymore, so he had to be the bigger man, figuratively speaking of course. That meant that he would not say what he was thinking, he would not mention how the Kiffar Force User (again, he refused to call him a “Jedi” or any of them) was sitting next to him when there were empty seats all over the place. He did not bring up any of this because he was not in the mood for snark or arguments. He had a rough day already, and he was here to eat.

When the server came by with his appetizer, chips, and “Spinitch dip”, he took one and dug in. Yes, Ryv’s words… word was left to hang in the air, but Caltin wanted a bite, he was hungry too. Offering some to his sudden barmate, the massive Jedi Master enjoyed the richness of the bite as he pondered just how he should respond to someone who he had no reason to care about. He could hear his daughter Alyscia’s voice in his head, she was saying “Be NICE!” like Ryv was a potential suitor for her. No one ever was, heh, of course, there were, but she was his little girl, it was his job as daddy to be protective. This was the type of guy she would like too, charismatic, intelligent, a cocky son of a …

LANGUAGE!

They know what I meant. Anyway, the funny thing about this was that he looked at the Force nowadays the same way as he looked at boyfriends for his little girl. No one met the level of “Jedi” by his definition, maybe a few Silvers were close, but to him, there was no true “Jedi” left. Sure, many followed the beliefs of the Light Side of the Force, for the most part, and some even had the skills, but there was a meaning to it all and most missed that. Heh, did they though? Was this just the way he looked at Alyscia? Overprotective? Maybe this was just the last vestige of his old life that he was holding onto like a lifeline to keep him with purpose.

It didn’t matter now.

With a sigh after swallowing, he looked at Ryv and simply asked.

What can I do for you?

​

...YOU JUST HAVE TO REACH FOR IT.

​