Private The Hard Thing About Hard Things

[Loske Treicolt]

CORUSCANT // DEBRIEFING NAVAL CENTRE //
FOLLOWING THE EVENTS OF FRIGID DAWN
Zaavik Perl
DISCIPLINE

​

Erupting in a superheated ball of fire, the compound they’d infiltrated was rigged to blow. Loske’s duel with a glory hungry Thyrsian Théodoro was interrupted (likely to his chagrin), and she’d barely been able to expand the bubble in time to surround the immediate group. It stretched thinly to absorb part of the initial blast, but not all of it. The eruption’s impact was merely mitigated; the inferno dissuaded from consuming each of them. Loske had ended up charred, the preponderance of the flames absorbed by the kinetic hunger of her armoured suit. Same as on Bastion, in that fatal suicide by fire. In a moment of horror, she scrambled unconcerned with the opponent that had been so fascinated by the Jedi. A fiery blast could not consume another Treicolt. Not her Treicolt.

Discovering the two wayward Mandalorians, she was flooded with relief. They were alive, and by some measure of mercy, Amon Vizsla disoriented enough for the Alliance to complete their mission and apprehend a prisoner. The blast might have saved both of their lives, lest they murder one another in a fist-a-cuffs of death.

Listening to the debrief, barely audible above the anxious murmurs, she blinked back to focus. The ride back had been busy, securing recovered assets, relaying comms back and forth to High Command and supporting the healing process of those injured. There’d been little time for everyone to share their thoughts, beyond the mutual sense of apprehension that got thicker and thicker the further they got from Yinchorr.

Apprehended and at the mercy of the Alliance’s interrogation officer, Amon was being asked probably a conversation’s worth of questions. Maynard Treicolt , responsible for the arrest, had been designated to attend in kind. This put her responsibility to be part of the debriefing, sharing encounters with Yinchorri, Mandalorians, Sun Guards, and Death Troopers. A riotous and dangerous medley that resulted in more questions than answers.

When the debriefing concluded, some bodies continued to mill about while others all-too-eagerly departed.

Somewhere between the movement, Loske finally had the chance to pull out of her reflective trance and focus on Zaavik. Who happened to fade in and out of existence at the most pivotal times, as she supposed a shadow should. He’d probably learned that from Allyson.

On the subject of the Master-Student dynamic, she hadn’t heard her on-the-repair-friend talk about her student in a long time. Not since Foerost. A mission that had been dangerous for everyone involved, some more than others. And if Allyson hadn’t mentioned Zaavik, that was probably because there was nothing to mention because she hadn’t maintained anything to talk about. Now that she thought about it, it made more sense why he’d been a part of Maynard’s Padawan Pack on Plexis; an embarrassing affair on Loske’s part. Peeling out of the carbonite and having to evacuate in blindness had been rough and left little room for camaraderie outside of getting all her senses back and her arm in repair. The med bay had dominated that voyage. Otherwise, she might have asked about how he was processing through it all.

"I had a mission, one that not even the director of the SIA knew about, none of the Jedi, no one. Someone higher ordered the hit."

"I was to assassinate the Emporer, get close and kill him. His pride would swell having someone so high in the SIA fall to his side. Cutting all of you off was to make it believable. What happened to Ryv, was my fault, my weakness - I fell apart. I can't fix that, but at least you know the truth. I never wanted to leave, but I had to - I had to make it believable. I needed you to hate me."

At least Loske had the benefit of witnessing Allyson’s admission in a believable juncture of life and death. The truth was close to tangible. Nobody else had that.

It’d be foolish to consider someone who’d been through the Allyson double agent experience, and now the grey instance of the Yinchorr run-in was safe left to internalization. Or, maybe he was, but Loske was not the sort to shrink away from finding out.

“Hey,” She’d maneuvered from her spot to catch the Zeltron’s arm, “You okay after all that?

Thanks for being there.”

 

[Zaavik Perl]

CORUSCANT // DEBRIEFING NAVAL CENTRE //
Loske Treicolt
One of Us is the Killer

​

Zaavik ached. The inside of his head throbbed with a painful, pertinacious rhythm. In a foggy-eyed daze, the padawan pretended to listen to the debrief. The Mandalorian fatale's various instruments had left him too concussed to focus on such dour ramblings. It wasn't much louder than the ringing in his ears from this distance anyway. He fidgeted with the bandage around his head, nodding aimlessly as if to keep up the illusion of attentiveness.

His mind remained elsewhere. Briefing, Yinchorr, Terrorism, Warrior Caste, Debriefing, it was all a blur. Why am I here? That was the question he kept asking himself. Why was any of this important? Why was any of it his problem? The disillusionment had festered until it atrophied into a cold apathy to his obligations. A pawn moving to whatever square it was commanded to. It felt degrading.

"I had to do what I was ordered to do because I AM a good Jedi I AM a good soldier.”​

A good Jedi. A good soldier. A good dog. Zaavik scowled to himself, staring into the middle distance. His nose contorted as if he'd smelled something rancid. Just as quickly as the expression formed, it faded back into the limp look of exhaustion. What was he supposed to do? Leave? The New Jedi Order was the only home he had now, and Zeltros wasn't a planet he ever wanted to see again. Perhaps, after a while, he'd get used to being on this spiritual leash.

It is what it is.

Zaavik stood as soon as the debrief concluded. He winced as the throbbing in his skull shifted with his posture. Against the pain he began to stride quickly, weaving through the crowd with his eyes down. The clamor of the relieved crowd stabbed against his ears and radiated through his head cavity. An inexplicable resentment bubbled up within him. Drones, all of them. Zaavik scoffed to himself, continuing to try and escape the hive.

A sudden seizure of his forearm tugged against his momentum. His feet sputtered to a halt and Zaavik turned rather abruptly towards whoever was accosting him. A nasty look on his face rebuked Loske for a moment before his dazed wits made a connection with the face before him. His features then soften to something vague and neutral. A small grimace peeked its way in when the pain in his head finally caught up to his sudden movements.

Zaavik rubbed his forehead with the base of his palm. "Hey," he returned the greeting with an apparent distance in his acknowledgment. "I'm fine, just a little banged up, I guess."

"Thanks for being there.” ​

It wasn't like he had a choice. "Yeah... Don't sweat it."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The knot in his expressive knee-jerk reaction might have been what she was expecting. There was an unshakeable unpleasantness about the situation, and whatever ruminations he might have been internalizing, she’d interrupted.

“Woah, you looked kinda pissed there.”

"I'm fine, just a little banged up, I guess."

“Yeah, who was expecting Mandalorians there? You took a beating. We all kinda did.” Loske empathized with a loose shrug. “Physically and mentally, I guess, when it all breaks down. Guerillas in the night rarely result in anything good. Just more..grey.”

This was a cycle. When little was offered to stimulate dialogue, she shouldered that responsibility and compensated with an overabundance of relevant or.. irrelevant options to latch onto. But that was to be expected, not everyone was a font of dialogue. She'd mostly broken all her friends into being expressive, where they'd all likely be much more comfortable keeping their thoughts to themselves. Her bleeding heart was unyielding and far from out of practice.

"Yeah... Don't sweat it."

She attempted an amenable simper and waved her hand with an ambient gesture “I’m not sweating yet.

But uh -- do you..you wanna talk? There’s been a lot going on, really fast in the past few months and..” She shrugged, giving way to some vulnerability to encourage him to do so in kind .

“I don’t know. I’ve never really spoken much to you outside of mission-related things, which can be kind of distancing. It's easy to get lost in the flow of things and use that as an excuse, which..yeah, sorry for that. We're all walking away from that briefing, or any other mission with a change to our galactic view.”

 

[Zaavik Perl]

“Woah, you looked kinda pissed there.”​

Eyebrows raised, softening his expression as if to defy her initial observation. A fruitless effort. Naive of him to think Loske would so easily disregard even such a presumably irrelevant detail. It was clear Zaavik was projecting by acting to the contrary. He was a good shadow, but a terrible actor. Every emotion was worn as if stamped on his forehead.

"But uh -- do you..you wanna talk? There’s been a lot going on, really fast in the past few months and..”​

Zaavik made a face. "About what?" He asked, feigning an indifferent ignorance. "What's happened has happened. It's all dust in the wind now." He tried to sound stoic, pretending he was just as unbothered as everyone else appeared to be. He was lying, to himself and Loske. It was hard to tell which was worse, but he ignored that too. Or tried to, at least.

“I don’t know. I’ve never really spoken much to you outside of mission-related things, which can be kind of distancing. It's easy to get lost in the flow of things and use that as an excuse, which..yeah, sorry for that. ​

The padawan shrugged. "It's whatever," he dismissed.

One could argue that was just 'the life'. The life of a soldier, of a Jedi. He was struggling to really tell the difference. Maybe there wasn't one in the right context. It wasn't the combat or the obligations that bothered him. Most of his life had been spent fighting, and this wasn't any different. Maybe this was all his own fault for having the wrong expectations.

"We're all walking away from that briefing, or any other mission with a change to our galactic view.”​

The subtlest flare of his nostrils gave away his efforts to resist a reactionary scowl. A slow, defeated exhale wisped from his nose. "It's just another mission, Loske. Forgive me if I don't consider the ideological nuance behind it all. I'm just trying to make it out the other side."

Loske Treicolt ​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Outside faces were something Loske could actually empathize with. Contorted muscles were the first defence lost and time and time again her countenance betray the true emotion behind a reaction. Both Allyson and Djorn had reprimanded the naivety of such readily outward displays and added it to the long, long list of why she was not cut out for the world of spies and secrets.

Like right now, when a tight-lipped grin pulled the edges of her mouth upward in sharp appreciation to his rectifying efforts.

"What's happened has happened. It's all dust in the wind now."
"It's whatever,"

“Very poetic.” She remarked, and shrugged. This could be one of the things she stuck to, dug her claws in and ripped away the protective layers to unsheath the actuality of perterbance beneath. It would feel too raw, too unready for that. Zaavik seemed unnecessarily aloof. Which, if she hem-hawed a bit more on it, would make sense. Why wouldn’t he be? He was a Shadow, an operative trained in disassociation and he was usually the information gatherer, not the divulger as she was imploring him to be.

Against her better judgment, she tried anyway. “Dust has a nasty way of getting picked up by that wind and getting in your eyes. Could be blinding.” Was that poetic as well? A self-conscious gut clench suggested no, and she grimaced at herself and rubbed her nose.

“You’re much calmer about this than I am.” The blonde admitted. That was neither a compliment nor a rebuke, just an observation. Her tendency was to be apprehensive first, especially since her end of the line seemed to get further and further away. If the Imperials and The Alliance were circling one another, snarling and flashing teeth, what would that mean for Concord Dawn? For the years of service alongside Imperial soldiers? They were sharks. “Maybe you process quicker.”

With a light gesture, the Jedi initiated a few steps forward — keeping the pace at an easy amble. Several technicians in jumpsuits navigated past them, murmuring excitedly amongst themselves. The conversation was broken, and too rapid or distant to pick up any traces of nuance beyond the conception of a new weapons system and maybe she heard the word star destroyer. She’d seen it being built only in projections, it’s metal ribs imposing even in its skeletal state. Every time she saw one (often) part of her wondered what it would be like to be responsible for the nav charting of something that colossal.

"It's just another mission, Loske. Forgive me if I don't consider the ideological nuance behind it all. I'm just trying to make it out the other side."

“It is and it isn’t, I guess. Depends on what that other side is to you.

Have you spoken with Allyson recently? I feel like I’m talking to a version of her, with the job first mantra.”

That was a low blow perhaps, and she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. When was the last time she’d seen Zaavik animated, and not a soldier zombie? Coruscant, probably. Where he’d fanboyed over Ryv and they’d talked about.. something… to do with… sports. Just short of closing her eyes, she racked her memories to try and drag up a reference from the occasion.

“What do you do for fun? Or is it just Limmie game spectating?”

 

[Zaavik Perl]

“Dust has a nasty way of getting picked up by that wind and getting in your eyes. Could be blinding.”​

Zaavik made a face. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe it was the concussion, or maybe her sentiment was just lost on him. Either way, he struggled to really analyze that sentence.

“You’re much calmer about this than I am.”
“Maybe you process quicker.”​

"I can't do this otherwise," he explained. "It's easy to get worked up about all this. The Imperials, and the implications of everything that's happened. Allyson taught me to be measured about these things. Too easy to slip up if you don't." It was easier now that he struggled to even care. He wasn't lying, but his explanation wasn't the whole truth either. It felt like a void. Even as important as it all was, scary even, there was nothing.

“It is and it isn’t, I guess. Depends on what that other side is to you. "​

"Survival," he clarified bluntly. "I don't want a soldier's death. Even though, that's probably what waits for us." The confession was oddly timed. A Freudian slip? Maybe he was just desperate for someone to confide in, no matter how nonchalant it was. "That's all we are now with all this going on now anyway, right? Footsoldiers with glowsticks."

"Have you spoken with Allyson recently? I feel like I’m talking to a version of her, with the job first mantra.”​

A version of her? Zaavik made that same face again.

"N-no, I haven't." He wasn't going to mention the prison on Coruscant. That was the last time he'd seen her let alone spoken to her. Why did Loske seem so blase about Allyson? Maybe he was getting the wrong idea, but weren't they friends? Did Loske not feel betrayed as he did? "Have you?" he asked with some tinge of desperation in his voice.

"N-not that it matters-" he tried to deflect. He wanted to seem like he didn't care. He told himself he didn't, but that didn't change the truth.

“What do you do for fun? Or is it just Limmie game spectating?” ​

Zaavik was already feeling defensive, and this question didn't seem contextually conformist. He suddenly felt like he was being interrogated, despite how innocent the question was. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Loske Treicolt ​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Any neutral expression dampened into something heavier, laden with concern. Measured and numb were two different things.

"Allyson taught me to be measured about these things. Too easy to slip up if you don't."

“Measured is a good response,” Loske admitted. She found herself the opposite all too often. Hyperbolizing the worst-case scenarios and getting wrapped up in trepidation until Maynard talked her down. The present. Focus on the present, and don't bring the future before it's time.

"N-no, I haven't."
"Have you?"
"N-not that it matters-"

Ah –– some vulnerability. It was like blood in the water, and Loske, the dialogue-starving shark encircled it.

“Yes.” She answered quickly and firmly. Moving her hands from her pockets, she wrapped her arms around herself with a shrug, opening up the gateway of admission: “I didn’t want to at first. And I didn’t get to see her after Bastion, not until we get back from Plexis. I used returning Bait back to her as an excuse. It wasn’t easy for either of us. It’s...still not..and as much as I want things to go back to the way they were, I don’t know if they will or can.” The blonde admitted, a wistful sigh finding its way through her throat into the space between them.

“I was probably naive about the whole thing, but..that was the first time my trust has been broken. And by someone so close to me. The whole situation just..exposed a lot of confusion and unpleasantness.” She paused, glancing over at him. Discussing the circumstance Agent Locke had put them all in was still difficult to talk about, despite how many times she'd tried to wrap her head around it, and how long it had been since the issue had unfolded. While Loske's heart and mind could repair itself, Ryv was still down a limb (and continued to refuse the customized prosthetic). Allyson's reputation was damaged. There were a lot of ramifications to the double agent's inconclusive mission. “To say the least.”

Offering a wan smile, Loske looked down at her feet while they meandered. “I could have been more measured about it, I guess. But it hurt everyone I care about. She hurt who I care about. We’re several apologies later now but forgiving and forgetting are much easier to say than to actualize.”

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Another shrug, trying to appease the snapped response: “Just trying to humanize the footsoldier with the glowstick.”

She hadn’t realized it at first, but his admission of his self-perception was all too similar to a struggle Ryv had before the war had started.

"I'm the guy who hits stuff with a lightsaber."

If she hadn’t just likened him to Allyson, she might have drawn a parallel between himself and the Sword of the Jedi too –– but too many comparisons might be the paint-by-number Zaavik didn’t need. Sounded like he needed to fill in his own portrait by his selection, not by constant influence.

 

[Zaavik Perl]

B L O O M I N G _ V I L L A I N

“I was probably naive about the whole thing,"

"You and me both," Zaavik said, shaking his head. Everything Allyson had told him, the Jedi had told him were all contrary to the reasoning behind it all. What would he know, anyway? He was hardly an adult. Still, it was hard thing to ignore. Hard to trust that everything was for the greater good, or even justified at all.

“The whole situation just..exposed a lot of confusion and unpleasantness.”​

Zaavik nodded in agreement. "I don't know what this is all really for anymore. When I was a youngling, I was taught about how we were a force of change, a force for good." Zaavik scowled at the floor. "And now everything with Allyson, what she explained to me-" He looked back up to Loske. "We put our lives on the line for a purpose. At least, that's what we're meant to do. But how can we be so easily expended? Are we really changing anything? I didn't dedicate myself to this code to be a soldier fighting petty wars over nothing. At least when we fought the Sith we were making a difference. But why mislead us and throw someone away for something that might not even work?"

Zaavik looked as if he may have been on the verge of tears. "It's all so frustrating! I don't want to die for nothing! They send Allyson to kill the Emperor and for what? So that someone else can take his place and her memory can be tainted forever with a false defection? And now what? We put our lives on the line for the sake of the Alliance and the Imperial posturing over eachother? I'm tired of these games."

Stark, undeniable darkness resonated through the force. A brief pulse in Zaavik's very presence.

"You can feel within yourself. Anger, passion. The hesitation of such thoughts. One so young as yourself surely should be second-guessing all around them." ​

"Do you ever get the feeling we're fighting for the wrong things? That we're on the wrong side?"

Loske Treicolt​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"You and me both,"

Other than a small wan smile, pity dominated Loske’s expression when Zaavik’s proverbial floodgates opened. She knew close to exactly how he felt because she largely felt the same. Less like a pawn in everything, but a similar baseline of confusion and frustration. Verily, she might have felt like a warm body wielding a sabre if she didn’t have her friends who had the audacity to humanize her and give her some level of autonomy.

"I don't know what this is all really for anymore. When I was a youngling, I was taught about how we were a force of change, a force for good."

Sides were confusing. Grey was confusing. Anything that wasn’t Sith versus Jedi was confusing, and even then there was always opportunity for redemption –– if patience saw fit. Otherwise, it was all based on personal jurisdiction in the end. She decided to vocalize this, rather than process and internalize her reactions.

“Everyone has their own definition of good.” Loske admitted, almost sheepishly and returned her hands to her pockets again, tracing the lining of the interior pouch. “Or maybe rather, their own execution of it. I..well. My master was pretty much an aggressor in anything that wasn’t the proverbial Light.”

"We put our lives on the line for a purpose. At least, that's what we're meant to do. But how can we be so easily expended? Are we really changing anything? I didn't dedicate myself to this code to be a soldier fighting petty wars over nothing. At least when we fought the Sith we were making a difference. But why mislead us and throw someone away for something that might not even work?"

Glancing at him warily, Loske’s somber expression only deepened. The Allyson debacle had shaken more than his trust in relationships, it had shaken him to his core. There were probably only a handful of years aesthetically between them, and it was awkward that in his teens he’d actually experienced more life than Loske had. Such were the awkward conditions of accelerated growth in a cloning lab.

“I think it has to be for your own something. Not exclusive to a government –– just so happens The Alliance's values as they exist today best align with what I, for example, find important.” Loske admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and inhaling slowly, as if using the calming action to purchase time to find words. “Your life is your own, your purpose has to be your own. Protect what you think is important."

She held up a hand, palm outward, at the focus on Allyson’s decisions, but eased it as the sentence transitioned more to the Imperial repercussions of the battlefield they’d just returned home from.

"It's all so frustrating! I don't want to die for nothing! They send Allyson to kill the Emperor and for what? So that someone else can take his place and her memory can be tainted forever with a false defection? And now what? We put our lives on the line for the sake of the Alliance and the Imperial posturing over eachother? I'm tired of these games."

“I feel that. Allyson’s decision was her own. I probably wouldn’t have made the same one. Isolation is..well, I’m so far from your work as a Shadow, but I can’t imagine working in solitude feels safe or good all the time. I begged her to let me in several times, to help any way I could. That was an individual choice. The mission itself, I agree with you. Strike one down, another will rise up. If it wasn’t a Jedi to take out the Emperor, I’m sure it would have been one of their own. That’s how they work.”

Sucking her lips to the space between her teeth, she bit down for a second to consider the idea of posturing. “I’m visualizing it as protection, less posturing. But this is the premiere foray.”

"Do you ever get the feeling we're fighting for the wrong things? That we're on the wrong side?"

“I still keep standing by it’s all up to you and what you deem important.

What is that? What’s important for you?”

To give an example, Loske stretched her arms out in front of her while they ambled. “I want a family. But in a world where they won't be hurt. At least, not the hurt of war and loss.” She admitted. “Galactic Peace is a big ask, but so long as folks feel safe and happy, I’m okay with that. Everyone is different and will butt heads and create their own paths to get there. That’s the frustrating part.

I don’t want to polarize a situation before I know it better. I can't. That's not fair to either side, or to me.”