Private Pour One Out

[Delila Castillon]

Not exactly the most skilled at piloting and astronavigation, it had taken her a moment or three to find the final resting place of Jorus Q. Merrill .News had spread of his death along the hyperlanes in a fairly quick manner. She wasn't comfortable calling herself a spacer but she ran in the same circles and lived a similar life, so it was only a short manner of time before she heard the stories. Heard the rumors that echoed through cantinas and refueling ports.

Nothing like going to get a caf and pastry while the ship was being refueled, only to learn what one would consider a friend was dead.

So that spurred her trip to Vandelhelm, seeking out the grave in the dusty desert reaches. Perhaps it was fitting Merrill was buried out in a planet known for shipwrights. It was also fitting that she had to go on foot to find it, only to wind up near a refugee camp. The refugees weren't exactly helpful, but then again she had heard stories of spacers seeking out the grave for luck.

Finally reaching her destination, it was a simple marker jutting out of the desert.

CAPTAIN JORUS MERRILL
810-902
PATHFINDER​

Hand went into her pocket and pulled out two things. One, a small stone she placed on the top flat portion of the marker. Two, a small bottle of whisky. Top was cracked and she poured a small bit into the dirt before taking a healthy swig.

"Here I thought I'd be first to kick the bucket."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"Maybe you were and I'm the one putting a rock at your pauper's grave. Death gets odd."

Jorus watched windblown dust swirl through his hands. Did this shape or impression of him affect the dust's movement? Maybe a little. Substance was kind of a variable thing. Was he still made of molecules or was he just energy? If the latter, could he run a battery, maybe one of those Ssi-Ruuvi ones?

"Admittedly it's a great rock, General."

Delila Castillon

 

[Delila Castillon]

"Hmm...see now I know I'm not dead. No one would bother to make a grave marker for me, pauper or not."

She was slightly startled by the presence....essence? of Jorus Q. Merrill and debated if it was the drink. She had just gotten started, but the whisky was on the cheaper side and of questionable quality. Either way, she took another swig she she stared at the Jorus-shaped apparition.

"Not General, just Dells." A small pause. "It is a great rock. Not sure what religion you were but in some traditions you bring a rock to a gravesite. It can't hurt. Not sure what the Force types do in these situations."

Another small pause.

"How is death treating you?"

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"Not General, just Dells."

-an interaction they'd repeated on occasion for the better part of a century. Even in death he kept up the bit.

"They've got their own traditions," he said. "I did hear once of Jedi cremating their dead into diamonds, that was good. Wardens - I was a Warden of the Sky, that was my family tradition - way I was taught was we kept our Force to ourselves mostly, went with whatever burial customs were local. Tried to be just people." He gestured around at the other identical grave markers in the sad and overlarge burial ground. "So you could say I got what's appropriate. As for death, still figuring it out, I just wish I could fly. Always liked hyperspace more than reality.

"How about you? How's life?"

 

[Delila Castillon]

Delila slowly blinked. He wanted to fly. Fly. She was unsure but if one was no longer tied to the trappings of the flesh they could do as they wish. Flying seemed acceptable but if he couldn't control the vessel....What about attaching himself to the computer? She could have sworn she had read about Jedi doing such things.

However one wanted to spend the afterlife, she supposed.

"You can just....snap to locations though, correct? I mean its not like you took a public transport to get here. I didn't see you deboarding at the spaceport."

"How about you? How's life?"

Another swig of the cheap whisky and a huge shrug of her shoulders.

"Not all that its cracked up to be if I'm being honest. For one I can't just pop in and scare people with my specter. Although, for us non-force users, I think its just a big black nothing, so that would be difficult. Debating if I want to involve myself in the fighting again or just drift off to the Tingel Arm and live in a cabin like a hermit. I'm thinking hermit."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"So I should probably tell you how death works. There's this world, weird as feth, that's kind of like a caf grinder of swirly light. Easily the third or fourth weirdest place I've ever been. All the life energy from all the death around the galaxy goes there and gets churned back out as new life energy.

"Some fraction of people get stuck along the way, temporarily or for good, and that's the Netherworld with all its weird places. But most people, Forcers or not, just go into the Force and become part of it, lose their individuality. Caf in the grinder.

"Now, it doesn't seem so bad that I'd be the next blade of grass my wife steps on, some guys'd be way into that. Or part of the next sunrise on Corellia or part of the life force of a baby Oswaft in the Thon'Boka or whatever. There was a time, though, when I really wanted to be able to hold on to my identity afterward, and so when I got the chance, I learned how. Very very very very few Forcers become ghosts like me (and I'm still figuring out the rules, if there are rules other than the bullshit I brought with me). I'm fairly sure I could teach someone who wasn't Forcer. Everyone, sorry to tell you, is part of the Force.

"Interested, come to think of it? It's not amazing yet but..."

Delila Castillon

 

[Delila Castillon]

Skeptical look crossed her face. She didn't believe everyone was part of the Force but who was she to argue a dead guy? That was boarding on insane, fighting as specter in the middle of a desert cemetery? Authorities would sure be along to commit her to some state-run facility with no hope of escape. Or maybe not, it didn't appear this planet had a great deal of funding.

"Caf grinder seems appropriate."

I'm fairly sure I could teach someone who wasn't Forcer. Everyone, sorry to tell you, is part of the Force.

"Interested, come to think of it? It's not amazing yet but..."

A long pause. Uncertainty.

"I mean...its not like I have any other hobbies right now. I never went to university so perhaps a little learning will do me some good. Keep me out of less trouble, if such a thing is possible."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"I mean...its not like I have any other hobbies right now. I never went to university so perhaps a little learning will do me some good. Keep me out of less trouble, if such a thing is possible."

"I did not expect you to say yes. Alright, it's been sixty-odd years since Confusion taught me how - nice lady. Let me see if I can remember how she taught it..."

The actual secrets of how to do it were wonky shit, in his opinion, and deeply navel-gazey, but that was pretty much to be expected since this was about keeping a firm grip on your identity in defiance of the Way Things Were. He figured he had that specific kind of arrogance or it wouldn't have worked. He figured Dells had it too.

It took him about an hour to walk her through it, right there in the dusty graveyard.

"...now, the kicker is, you won't know if you learned it right or I taught you right until you die. So I'm not going to charge you or anything. Last thing I'm after is ghost Dells with a warranty complaint."

 

[Delila Castillon]

"If it doesn't work I won't hold it against you. Death may be sooner than anticipated, who knows. I have been fighting more lately. I'm not as quick as I used to be."

Delila was skeptical, yet she was one of those who would try it out of spite. Out of a 'it couldn't hurt, I was the first do this' type of defiance. Granted she would have to remember step-by-step what she had learned her today, which was iffy. Especially because she couldn't quite figure out of the entire interaction was reality or merely some illusion or dream.

"Any last bits of advice? Don't want to be holding up a ghost from important work.."

Jorus Q. Merrill

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"Once I get the hang of death, I figure it'll be downright relaxing. No, no good advice. Don't eat ribs on Nar Shaddaa, don't drink beer on Tython, that kind of shavvit."

He was feeling especially translucent just now.

"Thanks for coming," he said. "Was good to see you. Best of luck out there...General."

He was crisply saluting Delila Castillon when he disappeared.