Private Out in the stars

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Rest up
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

A groan left her. "Touch more on the creepy side, that one, but I did head things into that direction."

She held his gaze as he spun around in his chair, crossing her arms and leaning to the side of the doorway. Stubborn as she was, the Mandalorian was not stupid, and she knew better than to disregard the fact that she had been stabbed a few hours ago. Besides... Gatz would probably be upset if she was to waste his time and efforts by dying on him. That would be downright disrespectful of her. Hell, she might even consider going to an actual doctor. Maybe. Eventually. Perhaps.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been worse. Not my first time getting stabbed, won't be the last - thanks to you."

The Mandalorian shrugged in the wake of her words, as if no further explanation was needed. Perhaps it was because of the helmet, but... she truly did seem indifferent. If not for the bandage wrapped around her side, she would have almost looked bored. Unaffected by the death of a brother at her hands, uncaring of what she had gone through.

"You have questions."

It was not a question, but a statement, delivered flatly. Matter-of-factly. She had always been a perceptive soul, after all.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"Not my best joke, I admit," Gatz shook his head, "I'll workshop it."

Gatz wasn't even remotely surprised to hear that this wasn't the first time the Mandalorian had been stabbed. He'd been stabbed, shot, and beaten more times than he could count, and he wasn't a trained soldier. He was a scoundrel, formerly, not a warrior built for tearing Jedi apart. Frankly, if Jenn didn't have at least twice the stab wounds he did, he'd be suspicious.

...Maybe he should stop getting stabbed so often. Hopefully, with having picked his Jedi training back up, he'd stop getting hurt every ten seconds.

Jenn caught onto the fact that he had questions for her. It seemed that, despite hiding behind her helmet all the time, she at least was somewhat of a people person. Or maybe she was just observant enough to catch the slight shifting of his expression, motions that betrayed his concern, despite his laidback attitude.

"First things first: when was the last time you ate? Drank? And I don't mean the cup of water I gave you to swallow those pills."

His pantry and fridge held enough to feed a passenger. And the plus side to living on his own for the last six years was that he'd been forced to learn how to cook. It was a guilty pleasure of his, that he didn't really share with people. Not that he had a whole lot of people to share it with in the first place.

"And, if you want to see him, your... brother is on the bed in one of the passenger cabins. Beskar and weapons intact, as promised."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Chat up the not-smuggler.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

"I think you crack enough jokes to strike gold every now and then. Statistically speaking, if nothing else."

Jenn seemed content to hold his gaze, safe behind the privacy afforded to her by the Y-shaped visor... the true face of her people. Her true face, as far as she had been concerned for so many years. The Mandalorian remembered her days as a young warrior thirsting for glory, honor, and conquest - a textbook crusader. But those days were gone, and with her newfound wisdom, came sorrow. Refusing to entertain the depressing reminder of what would await her on Hefi, she chose to focus on Gatz instead, her gaze like a hawk's as she drank in every detail she could about him. That was how she ascertained his desire to learn more about her: a dangerous thing, but one she would allow, given the circumstances of their meeting.

"I cannot remember the last time I ate", admitted the smith openly, honest as ever. "But I drank shortly before Tardek's ship came out of hyperspace. My kind cannot survive without proper hydration for long." Sometimes, she surprised herself with how easily the words came to her concerning her... unique situation. Jenn was no longer in denial about her nature, and what it entailed: she was no longer human, but Ersansyr, and she refused to be ashamed of herself for it - Sith alchemy or not.

The good samaritan caught her attention with her mention of her brother, however, and she gave a nod of acknowledgement. "I... thank you. You didn't have to do that, but you did so anyway, and that means - quite a lot to me. But... I'd rather not see Tardek again before my time comes to step off your ship. I trust your word concerning his equipment, and I would not want to take refuge in silence at the sight of him."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

Well, at least his jokes were appreciated some of the time.

At the mention of 'her kind,' Gatz quirked an eyebrow. As far as he knew, Mandalorians as a culture didn't need more hydration than any other culture. So, naturally, she must have been speaking about her race. Which was equally confusing, because she had appeared pretty darn human when she'd been undressed on his medical cot. But then, there were many near-human races in the galaxy.

Hell, Valery, Kahlil, and Iris weren't human. Technically, even Briana wasn't entirely human.

"Water and food it is, then." Gatz stood from his seat, "come on, I have a sofa in the lounge. You can sit down in there."

He led Jenn down the hall, past the passenger cabins and docking rings, around the ladder that led down to the cargo bay, and into the small space at the back that tripled as a lounge, kitchen, and fresher. At least the fresher, as small as it was, was separated from the rest of the room by a door.

Gatz set himself to work, opening the pantries and fridge. He needed to cook something nutritional, and not just something that tasted good. A healthy meal, after Jenn had lost as much blood as she had. He had plenty of vegetables still, which surprised him, he just had to throw them with some sort of meat that wasn't greasy...

"How do you feel about stir-fry?"

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Chat up the not-smuggler. Get some nutrition.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

The Mandalorian did not miss the change in her gracious host's expression - and she found that to be rather amusing. Keeping the good samaritan guessing was oddly entertaining, and she relished in the chance to keep his interest piqued. And when he stood from his seat, the Kayatr'ade was not far behind, stepping out of his way so that he may go through the doorway, following behind him as her helmet kept on turning this way and that, looking around the rooms they passed by - but never stopping long enough to force him to slow down his pace for her sake. Stubborn as a mule would be an uncharitable, but perhaps accurate way to describe her.

Sitting herself down onto the couch with a sigh, the rescued warrior found herself observing her host as he went about the kitchen, furrowing her brows. She could hardly eat with the helmet on, and she would not do this man the indignity of asking him to step out as she ate. She was... a touch socially awkward, yes, but she had learned through the years to try and make an effort when people did as well, and she would not be so rude to her host. Bringing both hands over to her helmet, she inhaled sharply... and removed the buy'ce with a hiss of decompression, letting it rest next to her on the couch.

"Gatz, I could eat a flavorless sludge if it could sate the hunger right now. A stir-fry sounds divine."

Without the gaze of the Y visor, there was... so much more humanity to the woman before him. Freckled cheeks, cerulean eyes filled with curiosity, a short, but no less fiery mane of hair - she was a striking woman, to be sure, but she hardly looked inhuman! Unless one looked to the sides of her neck intently enough to notice the gills, barely perceptible as they were.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

Gatz was in the middle of chopping vegetables, when he heard the tell-tale signs of a sealed helmet coming off.

Maybe it was rude of him, but he turned to look in Jenn's direction. How could he not? Every Mandalorian he had ever met—not that he knew that many—had kept their helmets on around him. Many sects of their beliefs refused to ever show their faces. So when one took her helmet off, while he was in the room, Gatz simply couldn't keep his eyes from wandering.

"Well, damn," Gatz blinked, "you should have told me you were pretty. I might have been more of a gentleman."

He turned back to his stir-fry after that, tossing meat into a wok he'd poured cooking oil into. Gatz left that cooking over the stove, and moved to a bowl to throw corn starch and water into. He added a couple of other ingredients to it: broth, honey, soy sauce. Then he began to mix it with a whisk.

"So, you're not gonna have to shoot me, now that you've removed your helmet, right?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow, "I mean, if I have to die, it may as well be staring at a pretty face, but it's still something I'd prefer to avoid."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Chat up the not-smuggler. Get some nutrition.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Jenn could not fault her host's curiosity. Her people were not known to remove their buy'ce in the presence of others - not unless they were friends, family... or loved ones. Some were naturally more lax than others about the practice: but, by and large, removing one's helmet before a stranger was something most would find to be bold and unorthodox. Perhaps this was his first peek at a Mandalorian without their visage hidden behind the visor.

"A lady never tells, Gatz. Besides... if someone needs to see me without my helmet to feel butterflies in their belly, well, they sure as chit aren't the one."

A smile tugged at her lips in the wake of her words. This... was perhaps an idyllic view of love, but then agian, she had always been something of a romantic. The kind that read Lady Velvet's works of fiction before bed, taken with the tales of enemies to lovers and other such drivel she consciously knew, as a warrior, to be unfeasible. They amused her, sure enough, but they also scratched her need for warmth, the thought of love being an all-powerful force capable of conquering any challenge...

But for now, she was content to watch Gatz as he went about preparing her a meal, suddenly thoughtful. She had met his gaze when his eyes roamed, and there was no denying the pull of her eyes, as if they demanded the attention of any onlooker. Losing one's self within those twin pools of blue was particularly easy - and above all, tempting. A small mercy, perhaps, that she had never quite felt in a singing mood: the results would be immediate if she ever made use of her powers, unwittingly or not.

"A couple of years ago, I would have sent a bolt through your cranium without a second of hesitation", admitted the Mandalorian nonchalantly, as if she was discussing the weather. "I followed the Way of the Mandalore, as did my Clan. Among my people, they are seen as... zealots. I have abandoned those ways in favor of the Resol'nare recently - another creed, and one that places less importance upon the secrecy of one's visage. Only time will tell if I am an apostate, or if I was right."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"A fair point," Gatz conceded, "there are more important things than looks."

Gatz scooped the chicken out of the wok, and onto a small plate—it had cooked through, and would be added again at the end. Then, he added more oil to the wok, before he tossed the chopped vegetables into it. He stirred those for a minute or two, before he tossed the chicken back in, and began to mix it all together.

Jenn went on to explain how, not so long ago, she would have shot him for having seen her face. That wasn't exactly a reassuring thought. He liked not being shot. Gatz turned to her to make a joke, and caught her eyes. For a moment... he lost where he was, almost as if drawn into a trance. Then the smell of food reached his mind, and with a shake of his head, Gatz returned to cooking.

"So... a couple of years ago, you'd have murdered me for seeing you with your undersuit off." Gatz blinked. "Well, thanks for getting hurt now, and not a couple of years ago, then."

Gatz added one final thing to the stir-fry: the sauce he poured over the top, before divvying it up onto two plates. He passed one over to Jenn, along with a bottle of water, before returning to the countertop to start eating off of his own plate.

"So, a few years from now, let's say you decide that you are an apostate. Do I need to worry about you knocking on my front door, blaster in hand, for having seen you like this?"

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Chat up the not-smuggler. Get some nutrition.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

"Damn right there are. The beauty of someone's soul is greater than that of their form - I've met a couple of attractive Sith, but if I was Force Sensitive, I bet I'd be able to feel a rotten and ugly soul."

Nevermind the fact that she had once entertained the thought of kissing one of them in the past.

There was something relaxing about watching someone preparing food, no matter how the sight of the stir-fry suddenly reminded her of how hopelessly hungry she was. That her host was putting this much effort into the meal was a surprise - but, then again, neither Sam nor herself knew much about cooking a hearty meal. Discussing their latest project over takeout whilst sitting on the couch was pleasant enough, but... this was something else, and she welcomed the experience. And the pleasant smell making its way over to her. Stars, but did she feel hungry enough to eat through a bantha!

But when Gatz found himself captivated by her gaze, Jenn did nothing to disrupt their hypnotic lure, ignorant as she was of the implications of her own nature. Why, it was nothing short of a miracle that she even knew the meaning of the word Ersansyr in the first place! And, although a far cry from the social butterflies making up the near-entirety of her species, she was just as captivating as the rest of them, if not more so. Puzzled by the blonde's fascination, she chalked it up to an appreciation of her beauty, and chose to be flattered by it- the slightest touches of red coloring those freckled cheeks.

"You are very much welcome - but, no, not really. The undersuit would've been fine, but not the helmet, which I did keep during your life-saving work."

Standing up from her seat on the couch, the smith's eagerness was made clear as she made her way to the countertop rather than staying on the couch, plate of food in one hand and bottle of water in the other. She wasted no time to dig in... and let out a pleasant hum of satisfaction. The flavors were wonderful: she was already thinking of writing down the recipe and trying to do the same at home. With the food mixed in together in the wok, the result was delicious.

"Not a chance", explained the fiery-haired Mandalorian between bites, her gaze plunged into his own eyes, those captivating pools of hers practically sparkling with amusement. "I believe in a little something called personal responsibility, Gatz. I'm hardly going to punish you, or anyone else, for a choice I made. Besides... pretty sure the Grandmaster beats me in a fight, and she's seen my face. As would some of my less- savory friends."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

Gatz was lost. Seeing her naked, that was fine. But seeing her face was taboo? Why? Mandalorian culture was so weird. He'd thought that the Jedi's religious and cultural beliefs were whack, but this was something else. Being an apostate all for letting someone take a look at your head? How did they eat? How did they raise families?

Maybe he should stick to trying to be a good Samaritan, and stay away from investigating cultural boundaries.

At least Jenn seemed to like his food. That gave Gatz a rare sense of pride, and one that wasn't tainted by the mistakes of his past—something even more rare. Cooking reminded him of his mother, and it was one of the few pure memories he had. The rest had been tainted, in some way or another, by his time in Hutt space. Most of him was tainted that way.

'Personal responsibility.' That struck a cord with Gatz, a chord he had only strung this last year. Who he'd been before—who he was trying not to be—didn't even think about something as moral as responsibility. He'd smuggled, and shot and beat people, all under the excuse that he was doing it for his dying mother.

And maybe it had started that way. But he'd continued after she'd died. By the time he'd given it up, he'd only been in it for himself.

"Well, probably better that you don't try and kill me," Gatz smiled at her, "Valery Noble is basically my best friend. When we don't want to strangle one another, that is. I don't think she'd be pleased to hear that you killed me."

It was most definitely a jest, not a threat.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Chat up her rescuer. Enjoy a good meal.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Chit, Jenn had to make a conscious effort not to wolf down the meal she was given. One, because that was just unseemly, and two, because she wanted to sit there and savor it. Her buir had been correct after all: everything did taste better when home-made. Oh, what would her mother think, to see her child abandoning the strict tenets of the Way and sharing a meal with an outsider, her face bared as the two of them exchanged light-hearted banter... would she be ashamed? That thought always came back to haunt her. The notion that she would find her Clan again in the Manda after her passing, only to be met with scorn. After all, in the eyes of the zealots who followed the Way, those who bared their face were no true Mandalorians.

"This is really good. Thank you for taking the time to make this." At least Gatz's guest was polite, if... frustratingly bizarre in her cultural identity. Setting down her fork, she reached for the bottle of water, drinking its contents with the same thirst a woman left in the desert for an entire day would show: and, after doing so and setting down the bottle, she dipped a finger into it, before reaching over to the side of her neck and brushing over her set of gills carefully. Soon, she repeated the motion on the other side, letting out a little sigh of contentment.

The Mandalorian could see that someone troubled him - or at least, stirred a chord within him. Would it be indiscrete for her to ask him about his woes? Perhaps so. After all, she was his guest, and she owed him her life. Rubbing her nose in his affairs might be a poor way to repay him, and so she kept quiet... before lifting a brow at the mention of Valery.

"I'm not going to kill my savior, Gatz, I'm not that rude! As for the Grandmaster... she is a refreshing soul. Would that I could call her friend without reservations, but she has her duty and I... have my own." A slow shrug of her shoulders followed- an attempt to make the matter seem less upsetting than it actually was. She didn't want Gatz to think too hard about it, nor her.

"But I can see why the two of you are friends. You too are a refreshing soul. You're... kind, and that is a difficult quality to find among the stars."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"Don't mention it. It's nice to cook for someone other than myself, for once."

There was a little ball of joy, blooming in that void in his chest. Gatz hadn't thought himself capable of an emotion like that anymore. He'd assumed the last year had stripped away things like that from him. Trying to be better, and trying to help people—those were good things to do, and he would never go as far as to say he regretted making those choices... but the last year had been filled with pain and misery, all stemming from the consequences of walking that path.

Joy and happiness weren't things that factored into that equation. They still weren't, but it was nice to have the feeling, as fleeting as it was.

Gatz watched Jenn dip her finger in the water, and then press it to her neck? What was she— oh... those were gills. She had gills. They were barely perceptible, and he likely wouldn't have noticed them if she hadn't drawn his attention to them, but they were there. Could she breathe underwater then? That was pretty cool.

Then Jenn mentioned her duty. And Valery's. And Gatz was harshly reminded that there was a war going on.

"Yeah... I guess it's possible you two might cross paths again, and not in a good way." Gatz didn't like that thought, but that was the way the galaxy worked sometimes.

"I... wouldn't call myself 'refreshing,' though it's flattering to hear." Gatz admitted, "my soul is far from pure."

A man who stole, cheated, beat, and shot people over spice couldn't possess a bright soul. He was scum, just scum that was trying to put a little bit of good into the galaxy before his actions caught up with him.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Chat up her rescuer. Enjoy a good meal.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Jenn could practically feel his joy - and that left her confused, and not a little worried. What was up with her as of late? She had always been a perceptive soul, sure enough, but this was... something else. It felt akin to dipping her fingers into a stream, feeling the current against her fingertips: and the waters of Gatz's soul truly did feel pleasant to relax against. Brought out of her thoughtful reverie when she caught his gaze lingering on her gills, the Ersansyr's lips pulled into a smile worthy of a siren: sweet and alluring, with just a dash of mischief. "I told you my kind needs more hydration", chimed the smith with a warm chuckle.

But then, her attention returned to the topic plaguing her thoughts ever since the news had come down from the Senate, and her smile vanished as snow under the sun. "It's war." Her tone was flat, as if the topic did little to upset her. But, then again, it would hardly take a seer to see the doubt behind her captivating gaze, the fear, the anguish. "The Jedi are peacekeepers, but we thrive in war. It was only a matter of time before all of this boiled over."

However, her host's words piqued her interested, whilst allowing her to escape the looming shadow of the war between the Galactic Alliance and the Mandalorian Enclave. For a moment, she remained quiet, eating her food in silent contemplation... and when she spoke once more, her voice was firm. Even after narrowly surviving a bloody encounter, Jenn managed to hold herself (and speak) like a stern commander, a wise warrior delivering truth, no matter how harsh or unwelcomed.

"Pure? What the kark does purity have to do with anything? Do you think I'm pure, Gatz - do you think the Grandmaster is? Only children are... pure. Whatever it is you did in your past, you are not beyond hope. None of us are! I've seen Sith return to the Light, a brutal zealot like me learned some humility and wisdom - anything is possible." Reaching out over the counter to clap a hand on his shoulder, she waited for him to make eye contact... and hopefully lose himself in her eyes, as he seemed to have done before. Not that she could understand why.

Not that she cared. It gave results, and she needed him to shut up and listen to her.

"You saved my life. Answered a distress call that could have been a trap, out of the kindness of your own heart. Followed my wishes to take Tardek's body with us, no matter how ridiculous the request might seem to most. Treated me in your medbay. Prepared a damn good meal for the both of us. It doesn't matter if your hands are stained, Gatz, only what you chose to do with them."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

Rough and tumble warrior she may be, but Jenn's smile was awfully feminine. Gatz wasn't sure if she'd see that as a compliment or an insult, so he kept it to himself.

Jenn's take on the war between the Jedi and the Mandalorians was... bleak. But it was, unfortunately, also realistic. One side abhorred war (or was supposed to, at least) and the other side thrived on it. And who was a better challenge for the Mandalorians than the Jedi or the Sith? Mandalorian culture, as far as he knew, found meaning and honor in battle. It was a shame, but this was never going to play out another way.

Yet, for all that he disagreed with her culture and her people's philosophy, Jenn's words burrowed their way to his core. Who was pure? Certainly not him. Probably not her. Gatz wanted to argue, indignant that Jenn would sully Valery, but... she wasn't pure either, was she? She'd been a Shadow, and she'd come from an enclave that didn't believe in redemption. And that meant...

Valery had murdered more people than he ever had. Her enclave had shattered the Jedi Way into a hundred million tiny little pieces, but there she was, a beacon of the Light. A mother, a wife, a Jedi Master, Council Member, and an inspiration to all—in spite of her old ways.

Hell, Kahlil had been Sith, and look at him: all the same things his wife was.

It was funny, how with one stern rant, Jenn had chased away all the insecurities he'd been fighting for months. Something that Valery's words often failed to do, and sometimes even exacerbated. Gatz was always so consumed by his guilt, and by his inadequacies... but he'd forgotten that there was something more important than ability: choice. The choice to be better.

And today, he had been better.

"I... thank you," Gatz offered quietly, but genuinely, "I needed to hear that. I've needed to hear that for a long time, now, I think."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Chat up her rescuer. Enjoy a good meal.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Gatz was an... interesting soul. He was a kind and wise-cracking pilot, and although some elements of his being lie beyond her reach, she noticed enough to understand. Clearly, he had done things he was not particularly proud of in his past, no matter how distant or recent it may be. In this moment, she stopped caring about the war, about the death of friendship in the name of duty, and all the worries that kept on piling up, adding more and more weight to her shoulders. A testament to her strength of will, perhaps, that she managed to chase away the specter of a war yet to come, if only for a time: there were better things to do than feel sorry for herself, for the people she had and would kill, and for her friendship with Valery.

"Maybe you were a bad man years, months, or days ago, Gatz", spoke the siren softly, her voice barely above a whisper, soothing and kind in spite of her nature as an indomitable warrior. In the wake of her impassioned rant, she chose tenderness, having made her point- and heard his agreement. Her hand moved from his shoulder, fingertips dancing over to his chin - tilting it up in an attempt for him to look at her. Lose himself for a moment, and burn her wisdom into his mind, that it may endure after her bones were claimed by a funeral pyre. If she could leave this good samaritan with advice on his road to repentance, then she could go to the Manda with one less regret.

"But the man you used to be doesn't need to hold you back anymore. You will stumble on this journey, but there are people ready to catch you when you fall. Valery can. I can." And with that, she finally let go of his chin, turning back to her bottle of water, greedily downing the rest of its contents. It would be best not to overwhelm him, and she knew about her habit to... ruffle some feathers with her approach. The last thing she wanted was for him to be annoyed with her insistence.

"There is always a choice, Gatz. It might not be easy to make, but it is there, and it rests in your hands. And, knowing that... yes. I think yours is a refreshing soul."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Valery Noble

A light hand trailed up his shoulder, and fingers grasped his chin to tilt it up. Surprise flowed through him; it had been years since anyone had been this tender with him, and he had forgotten what it felt like. Gatz... didn't really know what to do. Brief hugs from Valery aside, he was more used to knives and blaster bolts destroying his flesh than he was with the soft touch of another person.

The scoundrel in him hissed, rough hide seared by the contact. But whatever remained of the decent—if troubled—kid he'd been before, the sliver of a soul he had left, it wanted to lean into her touch. Gatz didn't, of course. He knew restraint well, even if he'd never admit it to himself. But what he did allow himself of her touch, he savored.

The next time someone laid a hand on him, it would probably be to maim or kill him, after all.

"I made that choice, Jenn. I made it a year ago but..." Gatz sighed, "it's not enough. Nothing I do is ever enough. And Valery won't always be there for me. I fail her far too often, and one of these days, she'll finally have had enough of me."

Of all the things Gatz feared, he feared being alone the most. Everyone in his life left him, eventually. And of all the people Gatz didn't want to lose, Valery was at the top of the list. But... the day would come when she would give up on him. It was fast approaching, probably. He'd taken advantage of her kindness for far too long, and while she was a compassionate woman, even her patience had limits.

All he had ever been was a roadblock in her way. Eventually, Valery would realize that.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Give that lovable idiot some solid advice.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Stars, but how she wanted to slap that pretty face of his.

He was smart enough to understand, she knew that much - after all, he had just thanked her for giving him the wake-up call he needed! And now, there he was, back to blaming himself, drawing the wrong conclusions from her words... it frustrated her. Not because he failed to see her point as much as the sad reality that she was not the same kind of social butterfly as the rest of her kind, a fact that aggravated her to no end. Some Mandalorians would dismiss the subject altogether: she was a talented smith and a proud warrior, why should she feel inadequate?

Because hammer and tongs cannot repair a person. Neither can war and death.

Turning away from her host, she pushed back her plate and stepped on back to wards the couch, her back turned to him as she inhaled oh-so deeply, trying to control herself, to rein in the frustration and be helpful. That was when she sat herself down, patting the spot next to her. "Come here and sit." A command, rather than an offer - but one given by such a beautiful voice, some would find themselves obeying before they realized it. But Gatz was not so weak-willed, surely...

"You are your own worst enemy, Gatz. Now, I assume you have known the Grandmaster for longer than I have, but I will tell you this much: if she can befriend with someone who should, by all rights, be her enemy, then I know she will not abandon you. You're afraid because you think you don't deserve this. Because you figure you don't get to be shown kindness and patience by someone." The Mandalorian paused, letting her words sink in as she drummed her fingers along the sides of her buy'ce. Gatz deserved more than the hole he was digging for himself, and she would be damned if she stepped off his ship before getting it through his thick head that he was more than just dead weight.

"So long as you keep trying and trying to become a better man, I know she will be ready to help you. As will I. But if you flee from your friends, convinced that solitude is all you deserve, then... you will break ou- their hearts, and you will be miserable. Do you understand what I am saying?"

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

He was bade to sit.

Gatz stepped forward, and suddenly the food, and his sorrows were forgotten. He couldn't even remember what they had just been talking about, not until he sitting next to the pretty Mandalorian on the couch, staring into deep blue eyes that he never wanted to tear himself away from. Her voice was so musical and beautiful, and he just wanted to hear it on an endless loop...

Something about this isn't right. His mind whispered to him, but Gatz was too lost to listen.

Her words sung in his head like a melody, even spoken plainly as they were. He listened, almost humming along to an invisible tune. Her long rhythm drove the insecurities from his mind, like light chasing away the shadows, and Gatz found himself leaned in as the only thing he could focus on was her, and listening to her, and swimming in blue eyes.

"I understand." Gatz agreed immediately, a small smile on his face, "you're beautiful."

Something in his chest ached. Betrayal. Then came the flash of another woman's face in his mind's eye. Brief, but enough for him to recognize. And Gatz pulled away, leaned back, shaking his head. He blinked, confused, and looked to the counter where he'd just been standing.

"I..." Gatz looked to the Mandalorian, puzzled, "Jenn, wasn't I just standing at the counter?"

He knew it had been a long day, and he was running off of less sleep than normal, but to lose a small chunk of time like that? He must have been loopier than he thought. There was plenty of time left until they reached their destination. He could definitely smuggle in a small nap, once he'd cleaned up dinner. Or breakfast. Or whatever meal this was.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Give that lovable idiot some solid advice.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

For all of her faults, the Ersansyr had never meant to do this to him.

Jenn was... well and truly unaware of her nature, of what she was. Even as she pursued the threads of her own power, the fiery-haired smith failed to understand the meaning behind them, the simple truth that she, too, was Force Sensitive. And so her powers took shape according to her subconscious desires, resulting in Gatz's peaceful trance. Well-meaning as she was, the Mandalorian craved attention, affection, and perhaps even adoration, and so she unwittingly enthralled the gentle man who had opened his heart to her, her longing made manifest through her presence in the Force... a dangerous sign of what she might be capable of, should she continue to develop her powers unguided.

Because Jenn liked seeing him so obedient, listening to her every word as if he might glean the meaning of life itself from them, each syllable forming a gentle melody, a wave that washed away the doubts, the worries, and the fear from his mind. She was helping him, right? He certainly seemed happier like this... and yet, as he leaned forward to look into her eyes and called her beautiful, she felt her heart ache. This... was not right! Whatever she was doing to him, he had never agreed to, and it was-

It's wrong! I'm not going to turn my friends into sycophants so I can have my ego stroked! I am not a monster, Sithspawn or not!

The Kayatr'ade was afraid. So very afraid of herself, what she might do to him, to Valery, to her own people. All she could do was take her buy'ce and slip it back on hurriedly, hoping to hide the panic and the fear from her gracious host as she stood up from the couch rather abruptly. "It's alright, Gatz, don't worry about it. I'll clean up the counter- I think you could use a nap in your cabin, you look... exhausted."

Lying to her own savior, even if she did so by omission, was enough for her to feel sick. Disgusted with herself.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

Jenn slammed her helmet back on her head pretty quickly, enough so that it made Gatz suspicious.

But he was awfully tired. Now that he really thought about it, he wasn't sure how long it had been since he last slept. Certainly not a full day, but definitely longer than what was supposed to be healthy. That nap was sounding nicer and nicer with each passing second. Maybe, once he had cleaned up dinner, he'd go throw himself into bed for a few hours.

Gatz wanted to argue with Jenn about cleaning up—it was his mess, and she literally had a wound in her side. But, it was sewn tight, and she was clearly moving well enough to handle it. Washing the dishes wouldn't be a strenuous task anyways, and she probably wanted to feel helpful to him after he had helped her out. He understood that well, more than she knew.

"Alright. Wake me if you need anything," Gatz yawned, "and there's another cabin with a bed if you want to get some rest. It's the one straight across from mine."

The other passenger cabin currently held a body, after all. It was weird to think that there was literally a dead person only feet away from them, as they ate dinner and chatted like normal. Jenn, despite showing some reluctance to see her brother, had almost seemed unbothered by the day's events. Perhaps she was at ease in knowing she'd given the other Mando a warrior's death.

He knew little of their culture, but he understood the importance attached to that.

"And don't be surprised if you see an old green astromech rolling around. He's friendly. Just stupid."

With that said, Gatz got up from his spot on the sofa, and walked back down the hall.