Private Unreliably Reliable

[Ryv]

Beneath the central spire of the grand Jedi Temple on Coruscant sat an ancient tree. Gnarled roots dug deep into the earth, while a heavy canopy rose up and over a hefty chunk of the courtyard. Unbeknownst to many of the Jedi called the temple home, this tree appeared shortly after the Jedi established their Order. None could be sure how or why it appeared. One day it wasn't there. The next it was. Some found this story perplexing. How could a tree, several decades old for that matter, take root without anyone noticing? Many debated what it meant for a tree with a Force signature all its own to arrive unannounced. Theories flew about the temple at random until everyone had an idea all their own of this tree's strange origin. Most stories didn't line up, which often led to an argument of some kind. But one thing was certain when it came to the mysterious tree.

Everyone loved it.

The youngest of the temple meditated beneath its shade all throughout the day. Older younglings began their lightsaber training beside it. Many a Padawan enjoyed what free time they had connected to the force of nature, provided it gave them a sensation of true unity with the Force. Well, as true a connection a living being could have with the cosmic power.

Ryv was no exception when it came to the temple wonder. He spent hours every day training under its watchful eye. At times others joined him, though most watched the Sword of the Jedi move through the most basic forms to the rustle of leaves above him. It provided a sense of peace he lacked elsewhere in his life, and for that, he was thankful.

Today proved a tad different. As usual, he wandered down to the tree for his morning meditations and afternoon training, but this time he wasn't alone. This time he took the opportunity to meet another of their illustrious Order. One Ripley Kühn, to be exact.

Her joining the Order occurred sometime after his departure into the Outer Rim. There wasn't much information on who she was or why she pledged herself to the New Jedi cause, but it wouldn't have mattered if a datacron carried the zeltron's entire life story. There was no better feeling than time spent getting to better know one's peers. Especially if said individual agreed to cross blades with the Sword. So, the kiffar settled in and waited. When she arrived, they worked through Shii'cho's dance-like forms at a rhythmic pace. Others nearby joined in on the demonstration. They consisted mostly of Younglings new to the saber, but some older Jedi opted to follow Ryv's lead. By the time they finished their warm-up, a dozen others had joined them. Rather than leave them to their own devices, the Sword broke them into pairs and set them to work.

An hour passed by, and all but two of the Jedi returned to other responsibilities that awaited them.

Ryv settled down beneath the tree once more, his back pressed against the gnarled bark. Beside him sat a woven basket. He tugged it open and revealed several tubs containing numerous sliced fruits, nuts, and sliced bread. Various fixings joined the vegetarian's feast, great to dip fruit or spread across the bread baked fresh that morning. He smiled up at Ripley and motioned to the makeshift picnic.

"If you're hungry, I wouldn't mind sharing," Ryv offered with a smile. "Been a while since I had lunch with someone other than the Chieftain."

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

In her time at the temple, Ripley had come to fall in love with the courtyard. It was a place to slip away, forgetting all troubles, or resolving them. There was a calm- a peace that persisted no matter the day; filled with the sounds of laughter bubbling from happy souls, children playing whilst forging friendships that would last a lifetime, and blades meeting as their wielders strived to improve. The latter was what brought Ripley here again today, preparing for the challenges that lay ahead. Her sparring partner was none other than the renowned Sword of the Jedi. On his approach, Ripley greeted him with a warm smile, before diving into the tense training session.

By the time they were done, the zeltron was covered in a thin layer of sweat, her muscles mildly aching. After the kiffar took a seat, Ripley dramatically flopped down beside him, back and head resting on the hard ground beneath her with arms outstretched. Her eyes followed the food as it was unpacked, appetite roaring to life at the sight of it. When offered, Ripley adjusted to sit up, returning the smile.

"I appreciate it, I'm starving after that ordeal. Been a while since I've trained that hard- I'm out here feeling like a padawan again." Her words were followed by a quiet chuckle. She reached out to grab a tub of fruit, taking the lid off and shoveling it into her mouth.

"Muja fruit!" she exclaimed.

The flavors danced on her tongue, a beautiful ballet gracing her senses. It tasted like days gone past, reminding of her travels across the galaxy.

"I swear, if there is only one true love for everyone in this life, mine may just be food."

Ripley let silence fall over the pair while they feasted, and she enjoyed every moment. The chow would have been enough for her, but it was nice to have company that wasn't determined to fill every lull. When she finally spoke up, it had been after reflecting on the hours before.

"You're a pretty good teacher, ya know. Should pick up a padawan or something, give back to the next generation and all of that."

 

[Ryv]

Ryv picked around through the basket, unsure what he wanted to snack on first. It wasn't until Ripley jumped in gung-ho and snagged something that he finally decided on the peeled jogan. He pulled off the lid, set it beside the basket, and popped one slice into his mouth. He savored the intense flavor as a small bit of the fruit's purple juice escaped the corner of his mouth. The kiffar chuckled, the sound muffled due to the food, and wiped away at the errant liquid. After he finished his first slice, he decided on a desert plum and chomped down without much thought. His lips puckered at the tart flavor. The entirety of his face mirrored the motion, comically scrunched up as he swallowed the remnants of his first bite.

"I forgot how sour those are," Ryv admitted as he rolled it within his palm. "Might have to second you on the food thing. Never much been one for people, but food? That's the good stuff right there."

As silence settled over their lunch, he fell inward. His hands worked almost mechanically to spread a thin layer of butter over a slice of bread. It was the silence that often brought Ryv's concerns to the forefront of his mind. How would he fair leading his kin into battle on Dantooine and Korriban? The rumors regarding the Eternal Empire's alliance with the Sith Empire have rung true, realized only in their declaration of open hostility against the Galactic Alliance. And of course, what of this schism? Would Jedi cut down Jedi in their battle to destroy the Sith? So many problems, so many battles, far too much death. It all weighed heavily on the Sword. How could he overcome a galaxy at war and finally bring peace for those who relied on his leadership?

Every day made it harder to hold out hope. Still, Ryv clung to such a dream. He refused to let go of a better tomorrow. If not for himself, then for those he loved. For the innocents on Coruscant who he hoped would never face another Sith occupation. For his father, Vyrin.

Once Ripley broke the silence, Ryv looked up and smiled. It was a somber thing, born of a tired acceptance for what awaited him.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," he massaged the back of his neck, eyes downcast at the compliment. It wasn't every day someone recognized him for more than just bravery or determination. People like Auteme were the teachers, not him. But it still felt good to hear.

"I've considered it, yeah. I just don't want to pass on the wrong stuff to em, you know? I can teach em how to swing a lightsaber and keep their head on straight during a fight, but I doubt I can teach someone what it really means to be a Jedi. There are far better Jedi out there who could be responsible for the next generation's growth. I think I'm just here to make sure they have enough time to get there. Keep em safe, give em a future—that kinda thing. What we all deserve, I guess."

Ryv shrugged. "You're not too difficult to teach. How long you been a Jedi? I can't say I've seen you around until recently."

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

Ripley nodded, understanding the apprehension, especially since she harbored similar feelings about ever taking on a student. Upon his inquiry, her brows furrowed a bit, considering how to respond. It was a question she'd been asked quite a bit since coming to Coruscant, but that didn't lessen the intense anxiety it caused. ​

​

"Uh, well, total around eight years, I think?" She reached for a napkin, wiping the fallen crumbs off her lap, before cautiously continuing. "Started training under a master when I was a young teen, but it didn't.... really work out?"​

​

Her head turned from the kiffar to gaze upon the courtyard instead, trying to avoid reading into any kind of facial expression. A million memories bubbled to the surface. Drilling, Sylar's thunderous voice booming behind her. Meditating beside him, beneath a tree not unlike the one the pair sat under now. The pain that enveloped his every word when she announced she was leaving. The latter almost made her wince, so she shoved the thought as far away as she could, the heartache of it all too much to bear. She turned her attention instead back to the question at hand, thinking of her time with Kahne. ​

​

"After swearing off the code for a few years, I missed it all. I felt like I had turned away from the path that was meant for me. I found Kahne Porte and he took up training me, down in outer rim. I kind of wandered a bit after making knight, then, found myself here. Figured you all could use another body, and maybe I'd find somewhere I'd stick around for a bit without getting bored." ​

​

She left a small laugh after the fact, considering how un-jedi that sounded, but it was the honest truth of the matter. The zeltron had always been a rolling stone, something that she contributed to having no roots, but even after she found her brother, it persisted. Another touchy subject, swept away when it entered her mind. ​

​

"And where have you been, might I ask? I heard all the gossip about the prominent Sword of the Jedi when I arrived, but couldn't seem to track him down." She teased, attempting to turn the subject away from herself.​

Ryv ​

 

[Ryv]

If ever there was a time to be quiet and listen, this had to be it. Ryv saw something familiar in her eyes as she turned away. A look of shame, perhaps, with uncertainty and frustration sprinkled in alongside it. He recognized a desire to not be seen, fade away from the moment, and just be alone. He offered her that moment with a solemn nod, more for himself than her. He listened to her every word, his amber gaze set on deep blue tresses as the courtyard's breeze fluttered past. He felt goosebumps roll over the length of his body as the canopy rustled alongside them. A smile took to his face as he leaned to the side, an arm thrown over his knee.

Part of him wanted to engage her on whatever it was that turned her away. What wisdom he carried from his few years at work could surely bring some peace to her troubled heart, but that within itself was a push he wouldn't make. No one could understand her better than she did. No matter what he'd seen, nothing he could say would wipe away whatever hung over her. It was a dark cloud for her to overcome, not him. He propped his head up in his palm instead, elbow pressed against his knee, and listened on. When she turned the conversation on its head, switching a focus from her to him, he laughed. Classic.

"I've been a lot of places," he stated. His trademark smirk not far behind that. "Recently though? After we broke the Sith at Bastion, I needed to getaway. I haven't stopped fighting in the last few years. Sith, Bryn'adul, criminals, the works. That sorta stuff gets to you. Lost my hand shortly before that, too. My girlfriend, or, ex, was the one to cut it off after she defected to the Sith for someone else."

He pulled his jacket from his shoulders and revealed the scarred flesh of his arms beneath. A myriad of thin scars crisscrossed his arms, alongside some burns. It all appeared intentional, almost methodical. The flesh of his left arm ended an inch beneath the elbow, replaced with a cybernetic. The other arm was covered from wrist to beneath his tank top with an intricate tattoo. It started with a series of colorful wildflowers that soon blended into what appeared to be an iridescent supernova mid-explosion. By the time it hit the shoulder, most of the color had turned to the black backdrop of space and dozens of small swirls representing stars.

"I lost it on Borosk," he extended his fingers and flexed repeatedly. It responded well to the electrical impulses sent down along his arm. "Got this too."

He raised his metallic hand and gently tapped a thick white scar nestled within his hairline along the right side of his forehead. "I think I was at the edge at that point. Tired all the time, no real confidence in what I said or did. I just quietly hoped some legionairre would land the luckiest shot of their career and take out the Sword of the Jedi. Instead, my best friend went down to a Sith and nearly died. If I gave up, he was gone too. And no matter how ready I am to go, I wouldn't let them take him from everyone else. It wouldn't be fair."

"I wouldn't think too much about taking all that time off though. The New Jedi Order is a place of second chances. Almost every one of us have made some kinda mistake in our lives, and if it wasn't for the Order, I'm not sure we'd all of found somewhere to be accepted. You should get to know more of the others, you'll realize you aren't as alone as you feel."

Ryv offered her his hand. "I dunno if anyone's said this yet, but welcome to the New Jedi Order, Ripley. We're happy to have you here."

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

Laughter bubbled out from the depths of the zeltron's chest at the cheeky remark, eyes finally returning to meet him. The sound faded abruptly at the mention of Bastion. Word had echoed throughout the galaxy of the gruesome battle, many brave soldiers never returning way home. What he said next was even worse though, and Ripley had to struggle to keep her expression neutral. That one sounded like a real piece of work. She watched keenly as he removed the jacket, uncovering the imperfections of the skin beneath. She couldn't help but notice the pattern to some, and her neutrality gave way to a frown. As he showed off the various wounds, she understood that while they may look healed, it likely only went as far as surface level. Her prior career had brought her in contact with many that had seen the front lines of war, forever carrying with them the horrors they experienced. Some took up the bottle, some spice, others, work. Ripley found herself wondering what vice Ryv had chosen to numb the pain. The thought drifted away as he continued, giving him her full attention.

No matter how ready I am to go.

The knight tried not to pick apart the words, but the use of present tense stuck out like a sore thumb. Was he still ready then? She so badly wanted to say something, anything, that would ease the burden of all he had been through, though the words escaped her. How did any language in the galaxy hold any such power against such awfulness? She was still struggling to vocalize her sympathies when the conversation turned abruptly.

She extended her hand to meet his, shaking it gently and offering up a shy smile.

"Thank you, I'm happy to be here. It's a lot different than I thought it would be." As her cobalt eyes looked upon the warm amber in his, she finally found a way to express what she wanted to say. "And for what it's worth, I'm glad no legionnaire made that shot."

Ryv ​

 

[Ryv]

Ryv smiled at that. And turned a faint shade of red as he took notice of the zeltron's cobalt irises.

"You know what? I think I'm glad they didn't manage to land that shot either," he shook her hand for a few seconds too long before he dropped his to the side and leaned back. "Think I got swept up in the moment, there."

He looked back out to the courtyard in a quiet attempt to mask the nervousness that gripped his chest. With how much time he spent working alongside other Jedi, it felt natural to speak to them. But something felt different right then. Well, different compared to the likes of Zaavik and the others. It felt a lot like his first few interactions with Loske or Auteme. He couldn't stop himself as he stole glances out the corner of his eye, attention drawn back to the softness in her gaze. The other Jedi were always supportive. No one asked about his past or judged him for the actions he took. Still, it always felt like something stood between him and the others. She didn't seem so different, nor did she seem so far away.

Whatever chasm ripped through the earth and separated Ryv from the others always grew larger. Even as other Jedi took up his fight, declared their loyalties, or called him friend, he somehow found himself isolated from the rest. Each day the ground beneath his feet pulled him further from them. The chasm grew larger, the pit grew deeper, and his chances to cross back to the others grew distant. Loske, Auteme, Allyson, and Maynard tried to cross that tear at one point or another. They all tried to bring him back and remind him he wasn't alone, but Ryv couldn't see it. How could he? His world was covered in a thick layer of blood, and it clung to everything in sight.

Well, almost everything.

"You know, Ripley," his anxiety melted away as he locked onto her cobalt eyes once more. "Maybe this sounds dumb, and honestly, I wouldn't judge you if you thought so, but I've always struggled with being understood. Like I said, a lot of Jedi here have walked a similar path. Done things they might be ashamed of, ran away from responsibility, you know. But they've always seemed to bounce back. I might just be missing their struggles, but I see so many of them laughing together. It's been so long since I've blushed because a pretty girl said something nice to me."

He ignored the warmth as it spread across his cheeks again. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, you're different than a lot of them. You feel different. I don't feel like I'm being examined or picked apart under your gaze. Kinda just feels like you want to know more about who I am, and I honestly wanna learn more about you."

He leaned back against the tree and pulled another fruit from the basket. "Is that weird?"

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

As the blood lightly colored the apples of his high cheeks, Ripley took notice, but didn't say anything. Her normal response would have included an ornery grin and smart quip about zeltrons having that effect, but there was a stark contrast between now and a normal day. She had let the barrier come down just a bit, the compulsion to scare him away as she would others almost nonexistent. Her hand rested in his, the callous from years of wielding weapons brushing against her own soft skin. When he finally pulled away from the grip and remarked about being caught up, she wondered if it was due to the conversation prior or the almost electrifying touch.

When he turned away, the uneasiness he felt hit Ripley like a brick wall. It was overwhelming, anxiety fueled by a surreal sense of anguish and loneliness. It fluttered about her chest, making its presence known. She almost asked what was troubling him, but thought better. If he wanted to share, he would- it wasn't fair of her to make him feel obligated. Slowly it began to fade away, until it was all but absent, the sense of peace restored.

He spoke again, and Ripley nodded, surprised he thought it was dumb. Misunderstanding had been one of the things that had kept Ripley away from the order so long, fearful of sticking out against the cookie-cutter type Jedi she saw in the books. As she had stated, it was much different with NJO than what she pictured, but there was still no real sense of belonging. His words after caused a sheepish look to cross her face, though they were eerily similar to how she felt.

"It's not weird." She stated, leaning back against the massive tree. "I get it. It's been a long time since I've felt like I could hold a real conversation with anyone. Even with my..."

Her words trailed off, the thoughts from earlier rearing their head again. She pursed her lips a moment, the struggle of wanting to share combating the raw emotion that had caused her to turn away the subject a bit ago. It was a few moments before she continued, her words now heavy with sorrow.

"Even with my brother. Once I found him, I thought all of those feelings would go away. You know, the sense of being misunderstood and whatnot. But everything was still surface level, no real connection. He's my blood, yet I can barely stand to talk to him. Not that he probably would want to now anyways, after leaving him again."

She had so badly wanted to make it work, to have a home and make the best of it all, just the two of them. She had really tried to be happy there, to find meaning in a simple life, but it just wasn't for her. It wasn't the place she was meant to be.

"So maybe it's just one black sheep finally finding another, but I do get it, and it's not weird."

She reached down to grab a nut from a container, not really hungry anymore, but wanting to keep her hands busy. "And I'd like to know more about you, but don't feel like you have to tell me anything."

Ryv ​

 

[Ryv]

"Alright, that's good," Ryv admitted. He fell silent after that, her slip-up not gone unnoticed. That same expression from earlier returned. He saw that need to fall away for a moment and find one's thoughts. And just as before, he couldn't bring himself to speak. Something about it just felt wrong. Like quiet should've settled, so the faint flicker between dreams could momentarily become a reality, and she could vanish. Those thoughts, no matter how intrusive, could not be ignored. Instead, he considered offering a hand—a chance to ground herself when ready.

"Man," he muttered. "I'm stupid."

Somehow that always came up. And like usual, he planned to ignore it and do something stupid.

His ears perked up at the mention of her brother. He peered back her way and leaned in to listen. It reminded him of his own relationships, with the likes of Maynard or Loske. A part of the kiffar clung to an easier time, one better than the last few wartorn years. They worked on Peace, fixed up ships, and set off an adventure like no other. They'd been his family for so long, but he found it harder to connect with them as the days rolled by. Part of him wondered if that's what drove him out into the Outer Rim. Their happiness represented everything he wanted. He chased it to the point of exhaustion and failed time and time again. He knew something had to give eventually; why not now? Why not for him?

Ryv reached forward with his left hand at first and stopped. He flexed the cybernetic fingers again, watched as his wrist faintly turned, the movements mechanical enough to still appear foreign. He let it fall away and led with his right hand next. His fingers momentarily closed around the back of her hand and squeezed. It was a quick motion, one he hoped conveyed his desire to support her. It went further than the duties of the Sword. His shadow would shelter his charges, that he promised the others. But it wasn't the responsibility of a Jedi Knight that weighed at him.

It was the responsibility of one tired, broken soul to another.

"Yeah, maybe that's it," he nodded at her take. "More about me? I mean, hell, where do you want me to start? I was a Jedi when I was younger. Born right here on Coruscant. Trained with the Republic and the Alliance during my younger years, but when the Silver Jedi abandoned the Core, everything got fucked up."

He stopped for a moment, his left hand digging grooves through the dirt beneath them. "Wondered for a few years after that. Eventually wound up meeting some Jedi who wanted to bring us all back together. I helped get all that together around seventeen. Led my first live combat missions. One of em actually got me captured. It's why I'm all messed up. I wound up in a Sith controlled prison on Concord Dawn called the Beast; it housed mostly Mandos captured when it fell. It wasn't a good stay. Got in a lot of fights for being a Jedi, but a few great guys kept their eye on me, and I managed to get out of there."

"Somehow, the Sith Lord in charge found out I was a Jedi. Made my life hell for weeks. I barely ate, barely slept, just enough to get by. Then they started bringing me in to talk, play nice."

He propped his face up in his hand again, elbow locked against his knee. "I wouldn't budge. After Kintan, they learned about our moving station. Wanted to know where it was, how I could get them there. When I wouldn't talk, that's when it really started."

The metallic fingers on his left hand trailed along the scars cutting through his tattooed arm. "He cut me for hours. I was supposed to bleed out, but I didn't. It intrigued him, you know how they are, all obsessed with power and immortality. I guess he saw it as some kinda blessing. If I wasn't dying from something like that, surely I had something he could take. It wasn't the case. My body just interacts weirdly with the Force. I naturally project an effect over my body that makes it more durable. When I lost my hand, I was still conscious. It wasn't until my skull fractured that I finally went down."

"But u- well, where was, I..." his head leaned back and rested against the gnarled trunk. "Yeah, Cygyys. That bastard... When he couldn't break me, he cut, burned, broke, and tore at me to study me. If it wasn't for the Sovereign-Imperator's intervention, I'd of died. One of the worst times of my life. Since then, I think I've felt alone. Like no one could get it. They weren't there, so how could they understand?"

Ryv sniffled and wiped his face. "Became the Sword of the Jedi after that. The Order wouldn't follow anyone else. I just had the experience. The charisma, I guess. Eighteen when that happened."

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

She was surprised by the touch, eyes flickering down briefly to see his hand on hers. It was a welcome one, though, a sense of comfort washing over her in a tidal wave. She relished it, bathed in it, all sense of shame swept under the roaring waters. Before she was ready, it was gone, only a ghost of the caress remaining. Her fingers folded in, meeting her palm, trying to shake the lingering sensation.

When he began to share, she became immersed, reliving the past alongside him. A fellow wanderer, though one that found his place much sooner it would seem. At the mention of a Sith prison, a shiver rolled down her spine. She had spent her own time in a pen, one of her more unpleasant experiences, but one under control of the empire likely had many cruelties to offer up. As the kiffar adjusted, the light that was breaking through the tree branches fell upon him, streaking his form in golden rays of sunshine. Her gaze followed his fingers as he continued, surveying the scars she had taken note of earlier, contemplating his words. She frowned, considering. That kind of gift should have been a blessing, but evil had taken it, twisted it, turning it into a curse instead. Once again she was at a loss for words, the wicked revelations no match for her voice.

The pain in his was apparent as he tried to find his way back from the story he had gotten lost in. More horrors revealed, phrased flippantly, yet the severity of them no lesser, no matter how it tried to put it. She could feel it, the affliction that horrific acts still brought.

Almost instinctively, her hand moved to rest upon his. She could only hope it would bring a sliver of the alleviation his touch had brought her.

"I can't say I understand fully. What you went through was unimaginable. But..." She paused a moment, unsure how to convey her thoughts properly. "I think I understand the gravity of it, and what you feel now. Memories have a way of haunting us, somehow worse than the experience itself. Maybe it's because you think in the moment that if you make it through, that'll be it. The curtain will draw on the act, and you'll be able to go on again as if it never happened. Yet somehow you're doomed to relive it over and over, reminded by the most inconsequential things. And that, you're not alone in."

She offered up a small smile, giving him a minute to collect himself.

Ryv ​

 

[Ryv]

Surprise shook him to the core as he felt her hand grasp his. It wasn't all that different from his intention. She wanted him to feel better, to know he wasn't alone in what he faced. Normally, the effort, though appreciated, wouldn't have changed much for the kiffar. The isolation within his heart blocked out empathy from all but only those closest to him. Loske, Auteme, and Maynard understood him. They knew what ailed him. For years they soothed that pain, but it just wasn't enough. His feelings got in the way. Shame ate at him, and it hurt to look any of them in the eye. He hated it when they looked after him. He was an imposter trying to carve out a place in the stars he didn't deserve.

Maybe a fresh start was what he needed. Ripley hadn't watched him slowly slide deeper into this pit, nor did she know who he was before he became the Sword of the Jedi. There could be no wishing for the old days when the first day only just began. His eyes found hers as he gently slid his fingers around hers and squeezed. Those cobalt eyes didn't know what his calloused hands were responsible for. She knew not his most devastating failures or his greatest successes. With time she would learn them, but for now, he could just be himself.

"Thank you," he muttered, his lips drawn back into a somber smile. "There are probably things I'm never gonna get past. Maybe it's the memories, nightmares, or the physical reminders that dot my body, but I don't think it matters all that much. I've had moments that made me forget that stuff. It wasn't permanent, but none of it was on my mind either. I'd wager there's something out there that can shine brighter than whatever the fuck it is up here that's so damned dark."

He gently tapped his temple with his left hand. "Might just be worth looking for again. Whatever it is."

Ryv shrugged and looked out across the courtyard. Jedi still wandered about, others still trained, and a sense of serenity still lingered all around them. He carefully ran his thumb along the side of her hand as he absorbed the scene and committed the moment to memory.

"As a Jedi, it's my job to bring hope to the galaxy. And as the Sword, it's my job to bring hope to my fellow Jedi. I'm supposed to be the buffer between all of you and all that would hurt you. They say my fire is to burn brightest, and in my shadow, you all shall find respite," his eyes fall to the grass as his head dropped slightly. "I've always fought to be that. I would never ask any of you to do what I wouldn't. I'd sacrifice myself in a heartbeat to make sure all of you made it home safe. Hell, that's how I wound up in a Sith prison, to begin with."

He looked back up at her, his form inching closer. "I think, maybe, it's time I let myself rely on all of you, too. Maybe what I need is right here."

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

His first words had sparked another onset of compassion, a blaze that lit up her entire mind. Before she could tell him it would pass with time, a sense of optimism came about. It wasn't clear, tainted even by all that he had experienced, but it was a fragment of hope nonetheless. A life raft to cling to, whilst waiting for the rest to come. His amber eyes fell away, but the zeltron's stayed thoroughly trained on him, drinking in the sight. She considered pulling her hand away, letting him fade away for however long he needed, but the stroke of his finger captivated her, the thought drifting away with the slight breeze that fluttered through the air.

Speaking on the title, Ripley almost winced. She had held such a burning curiosity earlier, but only as he offered up the small tidbit did she realize the weight of it, left on his shoulders to bear alone. He'd obviously given so much of himself over to the Jedi, placed under an obligation no other was asked to take on. She yearned to take that burden, even if only for a second, giving him a moment's respite. Yet it was impossible, and all she could do was hope her presence was enough.

He looked back up at her, his form inching closer. "I think, maybe, it's time I let myself rely on all of you, too. Maybe what I need is right here."

It was her that was left blushing this time, the double meaning in his words apparent. As the red tint slowly faded, she herself moved closer, until her arm touched his.

"I think that's a good place to start."

She leaned into him, head resting upon his shoulder, before continuing.

"I won't lie, talking and companionship and the like doesn't fix everything. But it's a lot better than facing it alone, letting it fester." She paused a moment, unsure. She wanted to share her experience in that aspect, hoping to encourage him, yet all of it paled in comparison to what he faced- but it was all she had to give. "Whenever I was younger, I woke up with no memory, no idea where I was. Left me with a lot of bad shit. A lot of anger, a lot of sorrow. Aching for people I didn't know. Only got worse under my first master. I was of the thought that if I hadn't been on the streets, if I had been with family instead, he wouldn't of found me, and things would have been a lot different. I already felt like I wasn't the stuff that Jedi were made of, and I didn't want to be there. Just kind of had the desire to be... normal? On an uneventful world, doing uneventful things, with people around who understood, because they were like me. I found some people though after I left though, and they became the family I had wanted. Helped me out of that cycle, let me know it was okay to feel about it, that type of thing. It didn't go away, but it lessened... while I was with them, at least."


Ryv

 

[Ryv]

Her movement was not lost on him, nor the sentiment of her words. He rested his head against hers and ignored the many looks offered the pair. No one appeared disturbed or annoyed by the gesture. On the contrary, many of the Jedi found the encounter romantic to some extent. Ryv could feel those emotions, even if they looked away and pretended the Jedi Knight wasn't on to them. A healthy amount of surprise lingered within the courtyard as well. Anyone who knew him knew he'd always been careful about his public image. He didn't fear judgment from his peers, but instead the consequences if the wrong people found the right information.

His immediate concern transitioned to Ripley's well-being. What would he do if someone he'd crossed got their hands on her? He couldn't live with himself if someone hurt her to get to him. The idea almost drove him to pull away, if not for the floral scent of her delicate blue tresses. He indulged himself and took a deep breath. It felt as if a meadow sprung up around them. He could almost picture dozens of centennial flowers, blue-blossoms, and puffballs drifting in the gentle breeze.

"I'm not expecting it to solve the problem," he admitted. "I just wouldn't mind a distraction from all the crap. That and, well, I also wouldn't mind trading out some of those bad memories for some good ones. Know what I mean?"

What would he of done if he ever woke up without his memory? Definitely freak out, that's for sure. Maybe attack someone? What abilities he possessed were refined enough for him to pose a threat to anyone ill-prepared for the Jedi Knight. The thought scared him. He applied more pressure to Ripley's hand as his grip tightened. For whatever reason, he couldn't just sit there as she spoke of her past. He allowed his emotions to drift along the invisible threads connecting them. It was hard to place how he felt about the zeltron right then. He didn't know her as well as he wanted to, and after Allyson, he wasn't sure how ready he was to trust someone else.

Even knowing that, he didn't stop the warmth he felt in his chest as it revealed itself. What strength he could offer her was given on instinct alone. He cared for her. As strange as it felt, he did. She hadn't hurt him like the others. This opportunity to build something new with someone else felt good enough to not just be a coincidence.

"I don't think I could've endured that. Waking up not knowing who I am, with powers I couldn't explain, in a galaxy that really just doesn't like people like us," he shifted slightly, his gloved hand reached out and rested on the back of her hand. "I'm sorry whoever first took you on as an apprentice made you feel the way they did. My old man was the same."

He froze after saying that. Many within the Order knew Vyrin Karis as only a staunch Jedi Knight and the Sword's father. Could Ryv admit otherwise? He nurtured only half the truth to honor his father's death. It was the right thing for Vyrin, but not for Ryv. He knew that.

"My dad, Vyrin, was obsessed with raising the perfect Jedi. Didn't much care about how I turned out as a person. Soon as he found out I was Force-sensitive, off to the temple, away from my mom and all the other kids in 1313. Lightsaber training, study on galactic history, meditation, sleep. S'all I did for like eight straight years. Got to see my mom on the weekends, and sometimes she'd surprise me and see me at the temple, but I think it hurt her. She wanted her son back. I missed her too, you know? I missed helping her around the house, going out on little lunch-dates, hearing her sing me to sleep, tell me stories to help me calm down on real bad days..."

Ryv squeezed his eyes shut. He pushed back the sadness and allowed the happier memories to flow forward. "I think if she were here now, she'd sit right on down next to us, grab one of those plums, and just be a mom. She didn't like people being sad."

His head tilted back, eyes opening to peer up and through the tree's thick canopy. Small beams of light pushed through and caressed both of them.

"I don't like when folks are sad either, Ripley. I know we just met, but I don't want you to be sad either," Ryv gently shook her hand within his. "I'm sure someone out there would tell me I'm dumb for this, and I might agree with that, but I wanna help you be happy. Regardless of what you've been through, you deserve that. Everyone does. So, if that's okay with you, I'd like to maybe stick around as more than just your Jedi-Boss. Maybe we can be friends? And uh, I dunno- you know, get to know each other more?"

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

She did get that. Her time wandering, floating through, staying a bit longer if somewhere had something to offer. When she had squeezed every bit of superficial happiness out of a spot, she'd move on and find another. The lifestyle had lacked what she truly craved, but it made it all a bit more bearable. As he gripped her hand tighter, she did the same, a solace found in the gesture, The kiffar's emotions radiated out, permeating the air around them. A slight sense of fondness, held up by a pillar of empathy. It soothed her, knowing someone gave a chit. The last person to do that was Kahne, and it was in a much different fashion, that of a master and padawan. The zeltron nodded slightly at the words, lifting her head to look upon him again.

She picked up on the hesitancy at the mention of his father, an obviously sore subject. Her lips tugged up slightly, hoping to offer a bit of encouragement if he wanted to share. When he did, the ghost of a smile faded, replaced by a softer expression. If she longed for some type of childhood not knowing what took place before, she could only imagine how much worse it would be for someone who was supposed to offer love and protection to strip you of it knowingly. Her free hand floated to his arm, tracing small circles with her finger.

"More than just my Jedi-boss, huh?" she teased, letting out a small chuckle. "I dunno about you, but I usually don't get so deep with people I don't want to stick around."

Her smile dulled as she seriously considered his words a moment.

"We can be friends, do that whole get to know each other thing. Maybe it'll help you be happy, too. And you're not dumb for that, by the way. It's admirable, wanting to help people still, even when others have given you a reason not to. It's the mark of a good person. I'm also really sorry about your dad. You were a kid, he shouldn't have put all of that on you. You deserved the chance to spend more time with your mom, the chance to make more memories. I'm sorry he took that from you."

Ryv ​

 

[Ryv]

"If I'm honest? I've probably gotten too deep with the wrong person on more than one occasion," Ryv admitted. "Glad I don't sound as dumb as I feel sometimes. It became kinda normal to just, I dunno, beat myself down. Like, if it didn't feel like a struggle, it wasn't worth it? Not the best state of mind. Something I'm working on, or uh, have been working on for a bit now."

He shifted away from the tree and repositioned in front of her, back to the rest of the courtyard. He reached up with his mechanical hand and guided his fingers carefully through her hair. He concentrated as he did so, brow furrowed, eyes set on the long blue tresses.

"Sorry, I've just never seen blue hair before. I didn't know if it would feel the same," he dropped his hand back to his side. In reality, the kiffar wanted to face her. He spent so much of the conversation gazing down at her from the corner of his eyes, it almost felt shameful to speak to her in such a manner. They poured so much of themselves into the conversation, a willingness to be heard, regardless of the outcome. His newfound trust in her was returned in full, or at least it seemed that way. Whatever he managed to put together in his mind would surely lack in one area or another. It would take more time to know her, to better learn who Ripley was and what she would inevitably mean to the Sword of the Jedi. Would there be enough time?

The New Imperial Order's assault on Dantooine rolled closer. Already, he spoke to Tavlar in regards to the Jedi's place in the attack. And after that? An assault on Korriban, the Sith homeworld. Even the Eternal Empire, a forlorn power, struggling to stay afloat, saw purpose in this battle. Their fleets crawled closer to Alliance space, ready to invade one of their border-planets. Ryv knew he would see each battlefield in full. It was his presence that rallied the Jedi to the fight, his saber that pierced the darkness and challenged the creatures that skulked within it.

Everything he found here in the courtyard might not be there when he returned.

As if on instinct, Ryv reached up with his cybernetic hand, the smooth glove that enveloped it, the only barrier between the metallic limb and the light of day. His fingers gently caressed Ripley's chin. He guided her attention to him and met her gaze.

"Ripley, there's uh, a thing coming up, here, in the Temple. For Life day, I mean. We're gonna welcome folks in, throw a party, feast, all that fun stuff," he looked away, only to catch himself immediately and look back. "Do you wanna go with me? Like, as my date?"

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

The Zeltron just nodded at his first words, understanding. She was glad to hear it was something he was trying to get past. With all else he had to carry, he didn't deserve to have the doubt of any aspect of himself tacked onto that- nor did he deserve to have someone around that made it even more strenuous.

As he touched her hair, she took in the sight of his face, noting every mark, every peak, every valley. The way his brow curved in, so attentive to the strands he held. Others had been drawn in by her looks, and the pheromones, but this was different. It wasn't an ogle, fueled by a fascination with the exotic. It seemed like genuine interest, one that extended beyond just the exterior. The pair had only spent an afternoon together, yet there was some kind of recognition that existed beyond the concept of time. It only fueled her eagerness to learn more about the kiffar. There was a large part of her that wished she could live in this moment forever.

As his hand found her face, her eyes floated to his. The intensity of the amber gaze was smoldering, setting a fire ablaze in her.

"I'd like that," she stated, a note of excitement in her voice. "But if it's a party, don't think you'll get away with not dancing with me."