Know Your Enemy, And Your Ally

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories​

Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"]​

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The whisper of Srina's voice echoed long in Aryn's mind as he took his seat at the table, it echoed the same surge of emotions that Aryn had felt only moments before, threatening to drag those feelings back out from the pit they had been buried in, threatening to bring that same hunger back to the forefront of his mind and his focus, but again he fought it down, drove it away from his mind's eye and focused on something, anything else, her question. "Not exactly home, no, I'm afraid I'd make a poor Sullustan by appearances." The joke was terrible, but more than sufficient in distracting the man as he drove back the thoughts to focus on the meal before him.

Taking a long drink of his Caf, Aryn heard as Srina spoke again. There was something about the way she spoke, about her words, which lingered with him. He'd found that since rising to his position many in the Alliance and among their allies treated Aryn differently, often he was considered with respect, with care for his position and what he had done to earn it. It was rare that Aryn met anyone now who treated him entirely as an equal, yet as Srina spoke she felt as though they were on the same level. It was... welcome.

He'd have to urge her against the 'my Jedi' part, though, that wouldn't fly.

Once again, Srina lingered on the danger of their connection, and this time, Aryn had to fight back the semblance of a smile at their positions, the opposite of what they should have been, by most accounts. Aryn was a Jedi, the New Jedi Order was not as strict as its ancient counterpart, certainly, but connections were still something to be cautious of, yet he held to this one like his life depending on it. Srina on the other hand was a Sith, pushing back against such a connection, though he could tell easily her feelings were not her own, but echoing the concerns of her people.

Leaning back in his chair, Aryn considered her words, and sighed. "I'm one of the three heads of the Alliance's triumvirate, more importantly, i'm the military head of our Alliance in a time of war." He began with a sigh, trying to avoid every tell-tale trapping of an inevitable lecture that was about to begin. "Every decision I make, where to go, what to do, who to bring and even what to say to some people risks the wrath of my people. I suppose at this point, they're just gonna have to deal with a few bad decisions every now and then."

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Aryn's Quarters-West Wing]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

Srina focused on the bright red shade of the apple that she’d taken for several long moments as she tried to remember how to breathe. She was barely equipped to handle her own stray, unbridled emotional fall out, versus that which belonged to someone else. A knife rose in the air from the table, and she remained silent while it began to turn slowly around the fruit, peeling away skin, and removing the core. The young Sith apprentice did not dare raise her eyes from the table. There was something within the eyes of Aryn Teth that she could not comprehend.

Something dark and not entirely born of the Force.

“You’re a little too tall…”, she murmured plainly, finding pale humor, in his horrible witticism. It was weak. As if he were preoccupied. Struggling, with thoughts that he kept veiled from her. “And I deeply suspect that there’s not quite enough jowl…”

“…And your ears…Your ears are much too large.”

Her Master would have been proud. It was barely afternoon and she was already making jokes. Better yet, she had understood, without having to be told. It was a first for the war-minded Echani that tended to take words literally, from time to time, versus seeing the entirety of the situation. Srina looked down at her plate, not sure what to make of the omlette, and instead reached to pluck a piece of thinly sliced apple from the air. It was sweet, light, and she could feel the natural sugars flood her system.

The apples slowly dropped on an empty saucer, arranging themselves in a neat ring, whereas the skin found the trash by the door. It was a simple, indulgent use of the force, but Srina found her fine motor skills were enhanced when she practiced with delicate work. It was an exercise as much as it was an act of convenience. If Aryn only knew how many pieces of fruit she had accidentally splattered all over the walls not long ago from a lack of control he might have stepped away to preserve his formal-wear.

He took a sip of the bitter, hot beverage that had been placed in front of them, and Srina debated on trying it. She had never liked caf and if anything, preferred tea, or on less formal occasions hot chocolate with tang bark. Instead, she wordlessly floated a piece of fruit toward the Jedi, letting it land gently on the edge of his plate.

As always…They would eventually drift back to the state of their newly created Force Bond. She appreciated the breakfast, and the show of civility, but there was a full grown bantha in the middle of the room neither seemed capable of talking about for long. Her sweetly uttered concerns were valid, based in fact, and the general climate of their nations. The CIS was neutral, and would likely take it better on a whole, but something told her that her Master would not be so gracious.

He would not want a Jedi, a man specifically designed to destroy everything he was, lingering around in the halls of her mind. He wouldn’t want the Galactic Alliance lingering in her heart. It was a conflict of interest and quite possibly, depending on how well she could lock Aryn Teth out, a betrayal of Confederate secrets. If he could breach the deepest parts of her mind, if he could slip in and out of her thoughts like a ghost—it made her a participant in unwitting treason.

Aryn leaned back, and began to explain his position, to which Srina bit her tongue. Just as he sighed, she could feel a sermon bubbling up beneath the surface of his mind, and was almost gladdened when he cut it short. She wasn’t his student and she wasn’t a child. “I’m well aware of who you are…Your AI system seeks to remind me at every moment of the great and powerful venerable Supreme Commander. The shock of your presence, and the expected stardom, has indeed worn off.”

“A bad decision is a night spent on Nar Shaddaa that you can’t remember, my Jedi. You overgeneralize. I am far from a simple bad choice. You won’t be able to forget me or sleep this away like a wretched hangover.”

Her words were punctuated by the sound of her fork touching the plate as she set it down. Enough, was enough. Was he so willing to risk open war, to risk an alliance, to keep a link with someone he barely knew? Srina could not be the only adult in the room. Slowly, her expression softened, and her eyes fell back to table. As much as she wanted to rail against it, deny it, there was a pull that felt natural. As if it had always been there. “I’m not trying to be callous, Aryn. It is born of practicality. Not hate, or disgust, despite my initial reaction…What you feel…I feel it too.”

More and more, with every minute, with every hour that this connection remained. The words that followed made her heart sink, against her will, and she did everything she could to hide it. She felt like she was beginning to slip away. As if her thoughts, her wants, and her decisions were no longer her own.

“It is our duty to remove it. It is our duty, to try.”

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories​

Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"]​

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Aryn couldn't help but smile at Srina's jest. It was almost relaxing to see that she was more capable of humour and levity than some of her and the Echani's reputation seemed to suggest. He felt a warmth suddenly flow between them, a comfort that replaced the dark feelings which had occasionally surged among the two of them since their bond had formed. As they sat, he watched as the fruit slipped towards him, gently landing on his plate as he smiled and picked it up with his fork, taking a bite as he watched her.

Then of course, the topic steered back to that same bantha in the room. Leaning back in his chair, there was a clear and present discomfort as she mentioned the AI, and its title for him. The shock she mentioned, the stardom, and especially the title that she brought up, he hated it, he hated it all. Aryn had never longed for the position he now held, he had been an idealistic man when he left Eriadu to join the Rebellion, to think that he would eventually become the man in charge of the military for the largest government in the galaxy was completely lost on him, and there were plenty of times when he knew he would have preferred to remain in obscurity.

He watched her as she spoke, the words were harsh, but he could feel through their link the seriousness and practicality in them. He didn't even need to hear her explanation, she knew why she spoke in such a way. He just nodded his head slowly, and yet as she spoke again, assuring him of the duty that the two of them had to remove it, he felt fear again. He began to realize it was not only a fear of cutting off their specific connection, but of something far worse, more present in his mind as he looked over towards the AI computer, waving a hand and allowing a few careful shifts with the force to disable it, along with any recording device in the room as he looked back to her.

"Have you ever cut a connection like this before, Srina?" The question was to a degree rhetorical, but there was no intentional scolding or patronizing in his tone as he spoke. "Most people wouldn't have to, ever, the only connections that really form this way are between an apprentice and master, two individuals who would likely never sever such a link, I have travelled far enough in the galaxy to know I am a rarity. Yet, I have before cut myself from such a connection." He paused, his fingers trembling for a moment before he clenched them into a fist to steady them. His heart rate rose, fear rose within him as he fought to force it down, continuing to speak again.

"Only, I did not only cut myself off from the connection, but from the force itself. For months, almost years, I wandered across the galaxy not like a usual man, free of the touch of the force, I wandered nearly dead to it, I was empty, wandering the far reaches of the galaxy in the hope of some purpose, of something, until it eventually found its way back to me..." She would be able to feel the hesitation within him, he fought back some part of the story, he refused to speak further, knowing he had already said far more to her in the last few moments than he had to almost anyone else. There were few people in the galaxy who knew of Aryn's escape from the Empire, or the consequences that had come from it. Yet, in the situation the two of them were now in, he felt she needed to know.

Aryn Teth was not just holding onto their link because it was a comforting one, he knew the dangers that came with trying to sever such a bond, and it terrified him.

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Aryn's Quarters-West Wing]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

It was always strange to feel someone else smile, especially when it echoed within her soul, versus being able to see it on their face. Silvery orbs rest on her plate, eyeing a dish that she had yet to taste with a certain level of distrust. It wasn’t that she thought the Supreme Commander would try and poison her, quite the opposite, she just wasn’t sure her taste buds would be able to handle it. They could be finicky when it came to foreign food. At the same time—she was quite hungry.

Apple slices would only go so far.

It was sad that she found herself focusing on everything in the room, everything, and anything, other than Aryn Teth. The warmth that slipped between them was unbidden. It was startling in strength, bearing signs of closeness that neither had the right, nor the experience with one another to hold. He reacted in the opposite. She could feel him watching her every move. Even if he tried to be discrete, which he didn’t seem to be, she could feel his gaze like a second skin.

A surprising vein of hatred welled within him. At first, she didn’t realize what caused it, but eventually put the pieces together. He seemed to dislike being called the venerable Supreme Commander almost as much as being called ‘Lady Talon’ bothered her. She inhaled deeply, gray eyes flashing, almost a different color until she closed them. Her hands formed fists beneath the table. Did he not know what he was doing? What he was projecting? “Aryn…”, she breathed slowly, voice little more than a strained whisper, “You can’t keep doing that.”

His hate, his anger with his station, pulled at her own darkness. There was a potential for blackness in all of them. Little spaces, cracks, where the light was lost and shadows crept in. She felt his emotions almost more clearly than she felt her own. They were raw and unrefined. Srina would learn, in time, to separate his thoughts and desires from her own…But for the moment—she felt like a prisoner. At the very least she was beyond grateful that she hadn’t developed the same physical limitations that she had with Darth Metus. For a long time it had been almost painful to stand a mere ten feet away.

Eventually, she was able to return to the topic that had brought her to the Commander’s quarters in the first place. The snowy-haired beauty, swathed in white, gleaming from the golden cage about her throat watched the dark-haired man shut down the talkative Twi’lek AI. Her head tilted. Curious. Always, curious. His question caught her off guard. “I have never needed to.”, she responded plainly, voice textured with the softest of silks. There was little that she could hide from him.

He added that most would be in her position. Most, wouldn’t have any reason to try and sever a Force Bond. Yet, most people, were not on such dangerous ground. She was a Sith Apprentice. He was a Jedi. What choice did they have? Silver eyes flickered when they registered conditioned signs of apprehension. Shaking fingers, the scent of fear, and the quickening of his pulse. For a brief moment, when she focused on his person, she could hear it in her head, roaring soundlessly in her ears.

The beat of his heart was strong and deafening.

Srina remained quiet while the Jedi wove a tapestry of his past. She could feel the truth in him. The hesitation. He was afraid. The pale woman closed her eyes again and took several moments to review what he had spoken. He couldn’t know how much she wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, nor could she allow herself to actually follow through with it. More than that…The small woman couldn’t imagine cutting herself off from the Force. Yet, the more this bond lingered, the more it seemed to strengthen. The Echani had no way of knowing if they experienced it differently but she did know it was different than the bond she shared with her Master. She just couldn’t explain how, or why, or what the repercussions may be. Her knowledge of the Force was insufficient. “We…”

“We would not be cutting ourselves from the Force. Merely from each other. Surely…”, she trailed off, licking her lips for a moment, to quell his fear burning in her chest. “Surely it won’t be the same.”

There was another issue. Srina didn’t know how to begin stopping such a thing. Despite her confidence and appearance, she was still an apprentice. She was still learning much about herself and the Force. Nothing in her studies with Darth Metus had covered this. Mercurial eyes eventually came to land on Aryn, soft, and filled with something that could have been regret. It was rare to see anything in her gaze other than indifferent tranquility. “I know you’re afraid…But we must try. I do not want to be the reason the Alliance between our people fails.”

“Help me, Aryn. I can’t do this alone.”

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories​

Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"]​

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Aryn's gaze remained intent upon Srina before she spoke, the trailing off in her tone caused him to turn away, his gaze shifted downwards as he heard her speak again. fear flashed forth once more, running through him like a raging inferno, her words came forth as if all he had said meant nothing, as if he did not know what he was talking about and that what he said could not have been. In a way the circumstance did not surprise him, it was a rarity that any individual could really cut themselves off from the force, but still, to have opened himself so readily with his explanation and have had it thrown back into his face not only hurt the man, but it angered him.

Red hot fury threatened to burst forth from the the Jedi who was struggling to deal with the emotional connection of his new dark-side ally, that was until he heard the last few words that left her lips. He struggled to read Srina in that moment, whether it was fear or concern behind her eyes he honestly could not tell from looking at her alone, even through their connection it was hard to tell, his own mind now hazy with different emotions he had felt. Carefully and silently he watched her, not daring to speak for a few long moments as the food on his plate grew colder.

There was a part of Aryn that he knew wanted to trust her, he wished to reach out and offer her the chance that she requested. There was reason in her words, and whilst they had once been cold and logical there was now a clear regret behind her intentions, she did not wish to sever their connection so much as she believed it was her duty to. It would have been wrong to be angry with her, it was not an anger she deserved and moreover, anger had never been the Jedi way.

Though, Aryn had never particularly been the best Jedi...

However, the lack of knowledge that Srina possessed in regards to her goal was one shared by Aryn. He may have cut himself free of such a connection before, but it was something that had come more of instinct than of anything else, he had not done so intentionally, and his blundering in the act had likely resulted in his own separation from the force itself. It had been a traumatic experience, and though Aryn now knew that the circumstances of his last separation had been wholly unique, and well-tempered for his disastrous cut-off, he was not desperate to risk such an instance again. Nor could he afford it.

"I just don't know that I can, Srina, the risk is too great, if I were cut off from the force again..." He could not finish the thought, sighing as he simply lowered his gaze once more, setting his knife and fork back upon his plate with a gentle clatter.

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Aryn's Quarters-West Wing]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

“Stop making your dread my own.”

Her words were not cruel, nor disrespectful, but her clenched hands beneath the wooden table could take no more. There were thin, crescent moon shaped incisions in her palms, left behind from her nails digging in so hard. She could feel his every move. When his eyes fell to her, when they looked away, and even, when his anger flowed. Silver eyes found his, sharp and intelligent, perceptive in a way they should not be. “You have so much fear and anger in you for a Jedi.”

“Are you certain that you’re on the right side Commander?”

It was a question that she may eventually live to regret. Yet, in the moment, he felt ruled by his emotions. She refused to let them change her, not even when he fell silent, and the connection felt stymied. Srina had openly asked for his help. She never asked anyone for assistance in such a way. Not her friends, and certainly, not her family. She needed to be strong before them. Yet, with Aryn, it felt superfluous.

He would know, eventually, that she was wearing a mask. She didn’t want to give him any reason to peer any further than he needed to. He was already moving within her, trying to see past her defenses, trying to make sense of everything she was. Srina would not make it easy. She belonged to herself; No one else. When he finally spoke, she remained silent as stone, reading between the lines as few could. “You don’t know IF you can…Or you don’t know how it’s done?”, she questioned after a moment, eyes flickering, from her barely touched plate to his face.

Those were two very different things.

Her hands fell to her lap. Perhaps, she surmised, that it was a bit of both. In any case, she had to figure something out before Darth Metus realized it, or she was certain the Sith would remove Aryn from the equation himself. By any means necessary. “I know our numbers. I know our battles plans. I know the codes for droid deployment. I have access to Magnaguards, defoliators, B3’s…”

“Every decision integral to the Confederacy…I know it. This is a security breach. It is treason. Treason is a capital offense.”

Which could result in death. For both of them. Srina could not bear to watch someone die, when all they needed to do, was restore things to the way they were. Her eyes fell closed as she began to concentrate, exquisite head bowing, as she focused on what bound them. If she looked inward enough she could almost see the ebb and flow of the Force Bond. Give and take. Unity. She breathed. It was strangely beautiful. It appeared as golden threads that waxed and waned, connecting them in intricate spider webs of intimacy that she could not hope, ever, to understand.

Once she should see it, she sought out a weak point, a portion where the threads seemed thinnest.

‘Forgive me.’

She struck, hard, and pressed with every mentalist ability she had ever learned against that which bound them. Srina pushed the essence of the Supreme Commander away, tearing herself from him, and almost immediately she felt wrong. It hurt, like nothing she had ever known, as if she were pulling out pieces of her soul to throw away. Twin tears fell from closed eyes. Unbidden. Unwanted.

Srina felt lightheaded. As if the air was too thick, or too thin, and she was somehow drowning in nothingness. In emptiness.

‘Forgive me, Aryn.’

Loneliness.

Her body began to go slack at the table as her consciousness slipped. She felt like a rubber band that had been pulled too far. If she pulled much further—She felt as if she would break.

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories​

Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"]​

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The words that left Srina's lips dug deep into Aryn's mind. He heard each one before she spoke, and so the words themselves were just a double tap, a knife digging deeper into his side as he focused upon her. The words themselves were almost lost on him, though the question lingered, the actual implications of them were held far from his mind. There was a validity to her question, even Aryn knew that his actions, indeed, the very ability the two of them were discussing, was far from one of a Jedi.

"I don't know how." He spoke finally, the firmness to his voice lingering as he watched her closely. Aryn had never broken a connection before, indeed even the link he had attempted to break before, the one that had caused him to lose his connections with the force, had repaired itself anew after he had returned with his powers renewed. Indeed, since Aryn had never attempted to break such a connection, doing so was dangerous as he well understood, and he had never been in a situation such as this one.

As she spoke again he sighed. There was something infuriatingly logical in Srina's words. Aryn knew there was a great deal of truth to what she said, their connection could have jeopardized a great deal, indeed, it could have decimated the very Alliance their peoples had worked so hard to ensure. Yet, within Aryn the fear that lingered, indeed, the connection that had formed itself told him that it could not be severed, that it would not be cut. He moved to speak again, but her words cut him off before he could get it out.

He felt it, the stab, the pull as she began to tear away, immediately, like the instinct of a cornered predator, those tendrils lashed out, forming around her and wrapping tighter. Where one thread was cut, ten more wrapped tighter, latching on to every part of her as she continued trying to slash them away. "Srina, don't." His words were strained, painful, as they came, his eyes focused upon her as he stood up, his chair clattering backwards onto the floor as he leaned against the table, finding the need for support as he began to step around it.

Seeing as she began to go slack, he reached out, his hand finding her shoulder as he dropped to a knee, holding her up as he locked his gaze onto hers. The physicality only made the pull stronger, almost palpable as more of his power flowed out to draw her closer, as she pulled away she only found herself trapped further, it was a rope that was only getting tighter.

"This will kill you."

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Aryn's Quarters-West Wing]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

Srina stared, hard, when the Jedi admitted that he did not know if he was on the right side. It was not at all the answer that she had expected. Not from the man, whom all heralded as being nigh perfect, while leading the Alliance to days of prosperity through his war efforts. It was a pail of ice cold water to the face to realize that no matter how well she thought she knew him, because of the Force Bond, they truly didn’t know one another at all. An identity crises should not have surprised her so…But it did.

“You should. You should know.”, she responded quietly, words barely a whisper, but there all the same. If the slender apprentice was in a position where she could have allowed herself capable of compassion it would have been palpable then. He feared the loss of the Force. It was understandable. No one wanted one of their senses abruptly cut off.

No one wanted to become disabled—to go blind.

In her eyes…They didn’t have a choice. It was better that they crippled themselves, versus breaking the alliance, and eventually destroying all they had worked for. Darth Metus, if he figured it out, would most certainly take it as an act of war on his worst days. At his best, there was a slight, slight chance that she might be able to reason with him…But the apprentice had her doubts. Something told her, very clearly, that her Master would not forgive the Supreme Commander for ensnaring his apprentice.

Srina attacked the golden threads which bound them at seemingly infinite points with precision. She did not see the darkness at the end of the tunnel. The blackness that consumed her light, that pulled her in, and drew her nearer instead of letting her go. She drew a shaken breath, swallowing a cry that was crossed between a mewl, and a whimper. It was the sound of an injured animal, a fawn, that had been shot and left to die slowly. Distantly, she could hear Aryn telling her to stop.

She did not hear his chair hit the floor. She could not hear, could not feel, could not process anything other than the pain that laced through her core. It was agony in every sense, emotional, and physical. It took everything she had to keep fighting. To keep pushing him away. She had to lock him out. There had to be a way. This bond, for the sake of both of their nations, for every man, woman, and child…It had to be undone. It had to.

Blue eyes met silver as her vision pinged with darkness. It was hard to focus. As soon as she felt his touch on her shoulder, trying to keep her from falling, everything worsened. Her eyes reddened. Not from her tears, nor from Sith Corruption, but from blood. She could feel the Force building within, the same telekinetic burst that had destroyed Verd Industries on Coruscant, and momentary alarm filled her. She had decimated the entirety of the building by accident…And that…

That was nothing like this.

Srina knew she could not release that kind of power here. There were innocent people. Civilians. Friends. “Get away. Y-You have to—“, she tried to warn the Commander, but her words came out jumbled, confused. There wasn’t time. She gasped and her eyes closed when she inexplicably turned the energy inward. What she had used to fight Aryn, to contest his hold, had turned against her. Capillaries burst beneath her skin, leaving her with reddened spots that faded rapidly into dark and mottled purplish bruises. They flowed, patterning across her fair skin in a way that was both grotesque, and mesmerizing.

The struggle ended abruptly. What Aryn threatened, what he warned, seemed that it was very much the truth. If she kept pushing and repeatedly tried to cut him out of her being…She could feel now, that she had been very wrong, and that it would only get worse. If she died in the quarters of the Commander it would be a war regardless. Silver eyes remained closed, taking shuddering breaths until her tears ran clear. The bodice of her once pristine gown was spattered with small splashes of red.

The only comfort she could find was in the man that knelt beside her. It confused her. For as much as she had slashed at the Force Bond, for as deeply as she had tried to dig it out from the root…It wasn’t all pain. There was forgiveness. There was strength. Peace. “What…W-What is this….”

Srina did not understand. Rather, feeling as if she had been beaten bloody by a rancor, she simply could not understand. Echani, as a whole, were a people that acted minimally with words. With that in mind, she reached for Aryn’s hand, and held it to her shoulder, keeping him where he was to soothe the misery. The closer he was physically the less damaged she felt.

“…What do we do? If we can’t….Maybe I just….Maybe it was just the wrong way…”, she murmured, closing her eyes wearily as she leaned back in the chair, trying to think of ways to explain this. No training session left her this battered. At least, not any that she had held on Confederate soil. Echani methods of learning could be brutal. “I don’t know what to do.”

The admission stung her. For someone so typically in control, so stoic, and steel-eyed…This was crushing. To feel entirely out of control, after fighting so much for a simple shred of it, left her feeling hollow. Defeated.