Wren listened intently to Cedric's response, quietly sipping from the glass that she held. Her free hand idly fiddled with the last few inches of the cybernetic lek, twisting it around her fingers. She pulled her legs a little closer to her torso, curling up comfortably in the chair.
"If I see anyone like that, I'll keep that in mind..." She murmured, shaking her head with a frown on her lips.
When asked about her saber, she lifted her hips momentarily to pull the weapon in question out of her jacket.
"It's a mixture of both..." She answered.
"Originally, she gave me her lightsaber that she used when she was a padawan herself... but I modified the hilt to better fit me and my fighting style." She clicked the button to extend the hilt out into the small staff, twirling it with her free hand and then offered it out to Cedric.
"How come?"
----
It was inevitable that Maliphant would show up again. Until the Sith Lord was dead, he would not cease to be a threat. Too many of the Jedi’s students had been targets of that decrepit creature - if he could at least give Wren some warning, that might be enough. “Just be wary.” His arms folds about his chest as he set the glass down. He needed to slow it down - his grip on the empyrean was beginning to slip, and if it fell too far away, he would be victim to the liqour’s tendencies as any mortal was. An open hand took the weapon. It snap-hissed as Cedric drew it to light, his eyes narrowing as he observed the emerald blade. “Just curious. A lightsaber is often an embodiment of the creator. I was curious about what it might represent if you..” he offered an easy smile as the blade was doused, and offered back to its owner.
---
She watched him curiously while he handled the weapon, then leaned out to take it back from him once he was finished with the inspection. Another quick click of button and the hilt folded back into itself, small enough to fit into her pocket. "What does yours mean then?" She asked, gesturing towards the Jedi Master with her free hand after the hilt was tucked away once more.
---
A good question. He raised a hand, and the hilt of the blade flew forth from one of the many bookshelves, coming to land in his open palm with ease. The weapon was twice the size of a normal lightsaber, and emblazoned with the symbol of the Jedi Order. He twirled it between his fingertips, before offering it to her. “Just don’t ask me to touch tips, he mumbled. The weapon had a calming aura to it, and physical contact would likely leave one mollified of any unpleasant sensation, such was its power. “That is the Blade of Russan. It was forged several thousand years ago, though it was never completed. My family took it upon themselves to repair it, and the blade has been with us ever since.” He paused, “It represents our eternal vow to the Jedi Order. Even when it has fragmented, we will remember its purpose, and stand against the dark tide until there is no one left to do so.”
---
Touching the hilt of the blade, feeling the calming aura that surrounded the weapon, caused her to take a sharp breath. It was a similar effect to her own touch with another person. A faint smile flitted over her features while she inspected the hilt curiously. "How did they come into possession of such an ancient weapon?" She asked, then paused with a chuckle. "Sorry, it was your turn."
---
The Jedi snickered. He leaned back in his chair, a vague look of amusement flitting over his features as Wren asked her question. There was quite a long story to the ancient blade, but he doubted she wanted to spend the entire night hearing it. With that in mind, Cedric endeavored to give her the best summary he could muster. “Shortly after the Rebel Alliance was defeated by the Sith Empire, I returned to my home on Ruusan for more training. It was there that a specter of my ancestor confronted me, and informed me of the trials that awaited. I underwent them, traveled deep beneath the surface of my family’s home, and faced more than a few demons.” “When all was said and done, I passed my trials of mastery, earned my place as a Jedi Master, and the Blade of Ruusan accepted me as its current wielder. When I die someone else will take my place, and so on.” Another pause. "What did you want to be, back when you were a child?"
---
His story only prompted more questions from the twi'lek, but she refrained from spouting them all off at once. They were taking turns asking each other questions, after all. There would be another time to have an actual conversation about his blade. Shaking her head, she held her hand out and offered the hilt back to Cedric. It was a quirk of hers that she never used the Force for mundane things. She could have easily moved the saber over to him without having to shift her position, and yet she didn't. It came more naturally for her to do things for herself. She noted the Cedric, on the other hand, used the Force as if it was second nature. She wondered what it must be like in that head of his. He always seemed so... stoic. His question caused her to laugh bitterly and she shook her head. "You mean back before the Galaxy showed me how brutal life really is?" She took a deep breath and let her head drop back against the back of the chair, slowly exhaling as she got comfortable once more. "I wanted to be normal." The answer was a painfully honest one. "But that wasn't really a feasible thing to want. What about you? Did you always want to be some grand Imperator and a Jedi Master?"
---
It was the sort of answer he’d nearly expected. Wren has a mundaneness about her that most Force sensitives lacked. That was not a bad thing, but it hinted at her true desires. The Jedi Master could sympathize. He took the lightsaber with a grateful nod before setting it aside. “Normalcy is often so out of reach,” he agreed as he went for one of the last few glasses. He didn’t drink this one, instead simply nursing it close to his chest. “I wanted to be a lot of things.” His brow furrowed. “Artisan, farmer, teacher - responsibility put me in the path I walk now, and I don’t regret it, but it was never what I wanted for myself as a child
---
Wren smirked slightly and finished the last of her glass. She then reached for another. Her thoughts seemed to wander for a short while, visiting old memories and taking note of the rather long list of reasons why she did t belong here in the palace. What had Cedric seen in her? What did he want? She took a sip from the new drink, which didn't burn this time as it went down. The alcohol was starting to finally catch up to her. "Have any artistic talent these days?"
---
“Yes, actually. I’ve been trying my hand at directing pornographic films. Truly riveting stuff.” He deadpanned as he took a swig, allowing himself to savor the taste for a few moments before continuing to speak. “But really, I mostly write. A lot of spiritual stuff, some political treatises, nothing really for entertainment. I’ll get to that eventually.” He paused. “Most of my work goes toward preserving what information on the Jedi Order remains, and my philosophies. Not the most interesting reads.”
---
His dry quip caught Wren off guard, but she busted out laughing a moment later. The mental image it painted was so absurd that she couldn't help it. She rocked forward, wrapping one arm around her stomach as she chortled into the glass she was holding. "I'm... I'm sorry." She stammered, trying to get herself to stop laughing, shaking her head a few times. "I just... I couldn't help but imagine it." She wiped her free hand under her eyes, still giggling a little. It felt good to laugh. Once she was under control, she nodded a little. "If you could write for entertainment, what would you write then?"
---
“Quite the mental image, I’m sure.” He cracked a pleased little grin as he leaned back into the couch, content that his humor had landed. Wren seemed a bit sour at times, and a bit of entertainment would likely do her good. He waited to answer the question, his gaze traveling off toward the many row of books as he considered. “I’m not really sure, honestly. Likely a deconstruction of some kind of genre. I enjoy the vitriol that tends to follow.” His turn then. “What about you? Any hobbies beyond tomb plundering?”
---
"Nothing so fanciful as writing, or really much of anything artistic. When I was little I would draw, but... that changed after I uh..." She paused, trying to think of the best way to describe her departure from Ryloth. Telling someone like Cedric that she'd been forced into slavery seemed daunting. Her eyes scanned the library once more and a frown touched her lips. Everything was so elegant and refined. He'd been brought up in a life of privilege, wealth, and power. No, he wouldn't understand and she certainly didn't want his pity. Not to mention souring the mood of the conversation. She cleared her throat and forced a crooked smile. "After I left Ryloth." "Nowadays, I just tinker with cybernetics and various gadgets. Droids and speeders... stuff like that. Machines are rather simple, they either work or they don't."
---
“You’ve got more of a useful mind than me then. I’m about as good with machines as I am with with tolerating Sith.” That was a certain truth. Cedric has little capacity for hardware of any kind - his abilities remained in realms of leadership and esoterica. He understood the immaterial - the material was a bit too different for his liking. “I’ve been to Ryloth once.” He fought the natural frown that came with the memory. “Got myself captured working to liberate it for the New Republic. Spent a year in the gladiatorial pits,” the serving droid returned with another tray. Cedric took the offering eagerly - the drink had already loosened his tongue. “Not the best of experiences.” He paused, curious, “Why’d you leave?”
---
She chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to decide if it would be better to just lie about the circumstances, or come out and lay the truth at his feet. As much as she wanted to avoid talking about the subject, she knew she was a terrible liar, so it wasn't exactly an option to begin with. Sighing quietly, she took a much longer sip from the drink in her hand, finishing the second glass before she quickly grabbed a third from the serving droid -- trading the empty glass for a fresh one. "Because my family sold me into slavery." She said bluntly, not sure how to get around the fact in a delicate manner. Slaves were a chief export from Ryloth, and had been for as long as anyone could remember. It wasn't exactly a secret.
---
There had been private suspicions at the back of Cedric’s mind, but he’d not engaged with them. Ryloth was known for many things, and most of them were not very good. He’d gotten well acquainted with the underbelly of that world. “Well,” he reached up to scratch at the top of his skull. “I’m sorry they did that to you. My family was messy, but not like that.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he formulated a follow up. “But you survived it. That takes a certain willpower most people don’t have.”
---
Wren gave a slight shrug and a sardonic smile flitted over her features. "It's behind me, has been for awhile. But... thank you, Cedric. I don't really talk about stuff like this very often." She eyed the now half empty glass in her hand and frowned, maybe she was drinking a bit too much, too quickly. This was the most she'd talked about herself in years, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that. Or what it meant. "Like I said on Odessan, I don't really have a family. You kind of get used to being alone after awhile."
---
The drink was set aside. Perhaps more for later, but Cedric was keen on not making a fool of himself. He folded his arms about his chest, his curiosity to her origins sated. “It’s not a problem. I’m good for listening, usually.” The decision to set the drink aside was a wise one, as the burning liquid found its way into his blood. It made things a bit slower, but wasn’t debilitating. Cedric could hope for nothing less. “I know how you feel.” He leaned back into the couch, “I’ve been isolated in one sense or another for most of my life. Leadership tends to drive rifts between oneself and others in an interpersonal sense. It’s comfortable though. Your decisions are always your own.”
---
The twi'lek gave Cedric a dubious look. She doubted very much that he knew what it was like to be a slave, but she wasn't going to contradict him out right. Leadership and having your family sell you off to the highest bidder weren't exactly the same thing. She wasn't angry with him, she just doubted the sentiment. His mention of isolation brought another frown to her face and she shook her head. That wasn't something she wanted to get into yet. Her inability to forge a normal relationship of any kind was a sensitive subject, one she did her best to avoid in casual conversation. "Do you ever wish you could change any of that?" She asked him instead, turning the subject back to Cedric.
---
The Jedi pauses to consider her question. It was one he had pondered himself many times, before eventually coming to the conclusion that wondering about such things was a waste of time. Still, he allowed himself to engage in the question. “Sometimes,” his gaze went to the floor for a moment, before returning to Wren. “I would have been happier in another life, if that’s what you’re asking, but I don’t regret what’s happened to me.” Arms folded about his chest. “These things were going to happen either way - they happened to me because that was the Force’s will. If they hadn’t happened to me, I wouldn’t be a Jedi Master, wouldn’t have been able to save Corsuscant - I probably wouldn’t be helping anyone.” He cracked a small, wondering smile. “So no, I don’t think I’d want to change any of it.”
---
His answer wasn't unexpected. Cedric had the air about him that only individuals confident in their abilities and choices could carry. There was something he said that she wasn't sure she agreed with -- that everything happened because the Force willed it so. If that was the case, then the Force could go fuck itself for all she cared. For Cedric all his life had been building to something, this great culmination of events that ended with him seated as Imperator, leader of a movement, and a Jedi Master. He wasn't that much older than Wren, only having a few more years on her. Did that mean the Force intended for her to suffer indefinitely? What kind of life was that? Anything she'd managed to accomplish, what little there was, she'd done for herself. The thought of the Force actively conspiring against her was... unsettling. And it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She glanced to the drink in her hand, then tilted her head back to drain it down in two quick gulps. The empty glass was set aside, the ice clinking softly against the cup. "Your turn." She said simply.
---
There was much communicated that went unspoken. Cedric did well to make it look as if he were simply listening to her, but he was monitoring her body language as well. Her lekku were of particular note - such things tended to shift in accordance with how one was feeling, or that had been Cedric’s experience at the least. What he picked up on was distaste, though he couldn’t identify it in a particular sense. The source was simply undiscernable. “What’s the reason you decided to come with me? You don’t strike me as the type that would want to be a Jedi simply for the sake of it.”
---
Wren's mouth quirked ever so slightly to the side after Cedric's question. The truth was she didn't rightly know herself, at least, not in the sense that he was looking for. If he wanted her to spout off about how she always yearned to be a Jedi, she was only going to disappoint him. She chewed her bottom lip, considering the answer for a few moments. "I guess... because I don't want people to have to go through what I did. I want to be strong enough to protect others from that life..." She murmured in a soft voice, shaking her head. "I know I can't make that much of a difference... but if I can help just one person, it's something."
