He shook his head, turning away from Ronan as he talked. His eyes were closed, his right hand coming up to rub at his eyes. His headache was only getting worse with the nagging, and as he reached into the Force in an attempt to relieve it a little, he felt the flow of Shatterpoints, dozens of interweaving fractures, pulling together on the Praxeum.
Something was coming. Something soon. A pattern he couldn't quite decipher yet, but the flow of time was drawing fractures inwards. Something that could make, or break, the Praxeum. Maybe.
And if I'm tucked up in bed, ill prepared to respond, wrong place at the wrong time, what happens?
Will they be able to react to something if they don't know it's happening? Can they sense the same thing I'm sensing?
He turned, looking back over his shoulder at them.
Zuli does have knowledge of the technique... if I'm sensing them, he should, too.
Shouldn't he?
Truth was, it was one thing that seemed to have strengthened over the past few days. The more he'd tapped into the technique, the more he had submerged himself in the weave of the shatterpoints, the marks in time and the paths carved by events as they unfolded, the more in tune with those particular events he had seemed to be.
And if Zuli did miss something he would have sensed?
He turned away for a moment's more quiet reflection.
I do need to sleep. I do. I know this. The question now is how much longer I can hold out. How much longer I can keep fighting without rest?
Ronan has got a point though. Dav's hand came up, resting gently over the dressing on his wound. I'm not fighting at my best. I'm not going out there at my strongest.
He worked his jaw, then shook his head again, a lock of dark hair shaking free and drooping down in front of his forehead.
"And what happens if whilst I'm napping, one of you gets shot down, hmm?"
He stared intently for a moment, before looking away, his mind whirling through those thoughts.
These are my friends. My family. Loosing them would be... would be worse than the Jedi purge was.
He shook his head again.
"I've lived a long life. I am prepared for my end, if my end is to come. I've already lived a richer, more purposeful life than I ever thought I might, and you all helped make that possible. So if I have to fight until I literally burn-out, until I die, to keep this Praxeum safe, I am content and prepared to do that. But loosing this temple, this family, any of you? If I can prevent it, then I will. My main concern now is to keep the Ion Cannons and Shield Generator safe until we can hide them properly. I live past that, then I'll concern myself with rest, and recuperation, and the future."
Dav sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"I don't have a death wish, I really don't. I'm certainly not planning on dying any time soon. But on the other hand, if I have to fall to keep you all safe, then I'm ok with that. But what is more important, what is really the most important thing, is holding that line, and even as tired as I am - and I am - I can still make a big difference to that. Can't if I'm sleeping, though. The longer I can keep this up, the less time those chinks in our armour will be vulnerable. Kobi left three days ago. He should have reached Shedu Maad in a day, so we should have someone here really soon who can apply the Fallanassi techniques. A few more days, they'll be here, and we'll be set to weather the roughest storms in the Galaxy. A few more days, and this won't be necessary any more. I am more than willing to sacrifice my own sleep, my own health, to get us there. And ultimately, in this if nothing else, that is my decision to make. My choice, and mine alone."
The Jedi Master lifted his gaze to them again. Gave a grim smile. His eyes filled themselves with the sight of his friends, and a swell of affection formed in his chest, a great warmth.
"I'm only one man. I might be one man who can make a difference to the current problem, but at the end of the day, my need for sleep is not as important as the survival of everyone else in this temple, something which I can continue to ensure so long as I am out and active. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one, and if this one can save many by ditching sleep for a few more days? Then that is what this one will do."
Hangar
Re: Hangar
~ " Forcedamnit, Man'sell!"
The exclamation was much louder than he had intended, but it had the side effect of making sure that each of Jago's next statements were subsequently rising in volume and passion.
" We're Jedi: Since when in Chaos is anything our sole decision anymore?"
He felt his own hands curl tighter, trying to relinquish the steel in his voice by channeling it into his muscles. It ... sort of worked. Dav's words had struck a discord with Jago, and he was not about to let the Senior Jedi get away with this one. He claimed to be doing these suicidal runs into the Jungle for his friends, and yet denied the very same group their pleading when they asked for him to rest if but for one day?
" Don't you get it by now? It's always going to be 'a few more days'. This is a karkin' war, Dav, there is not going to be a better time. It's gone. We have to get what we can, when we can."
The white-haired wonder's eyes drifted towards the edges of this section of the hangar bay, spotting two pilots whom happened to be slowing their pace and gazing like a kaadu in headlights. Jago's voice had a tendency to carry. He forced a smile for them and waved his hand along, clearly indicating them to not pay any mind. With a befuddled grin in reply, the pair made their way for the turbolifts and turned their talk and minds to more important matters than Jago Pulastra throwing another "tantrum".
He turned back to Dav, pacing away from the group at large. Restless, always restless.
" You've said it yourself, we've all been pushed to the breaking point in defending our home, here. I've spent the better part of two weeks in a cockpit, and I still get sleep. Tebana has been down in that frelling basement making sure our thousand braves aren't dying from Massassi Fever and severed limbs, and she still gets sleep.. Zuli has been overseeing every single damn aspect of the defense within the Temple and has also been on patrol and recon beyond the perimeter, and still gets sleep."
Jago strode up to Man'sell, his hands and arms incredibly animated as he spoke in rising volume. To hells with the Battlemaster's logic: Pulastra hated when he tried to use that dizzying intellect to weasel his way into doing what suited him at the moment.
" Ronan, Chalco, every single last Jedi and Trooper and Civvie here, they all. Get. Sleep. And they still do their jobs and the Praxeum is still defended. What in the Seven Hells of Krath makes you so special as to think you're the only damn one holding the line out there!? If you really think you're the only thing tying this defense together, then surely you can see how much of a dren-hole we'd be in if you died because you were exhausted, idiot!" ~
The exclamation was much louder than he had intended, but it had the side effect of making sure that each of Jago's next statements were subsequently rising in volume and passion.
" We're Jedi: Since when in Chaos is anything our sole decision anymore?"
He felt his own hands curl tighter, trying to relinquish the steel in his voice by channeling it into his muscles. It ... sort of worked. Dav's words had struck a discord with Jago, and he was not about to let the Senior Jedi get away with this one. He claimed to be doing these suicidal runs into the Jungle for his friends, and yet denied the very same group their pleading when they asked for him to rest if but for one day?
" Don't you get it by now? It's always going to be 'a few more days'. This is a karkin' war, Dav, there is not going to be a better time. It's gone. We have to get what we can, when we can."
The white-haired wonder's eyes drifted towards the edges of this section of the hangar bay, spotting two pilots whom happened to be slowing their pace and gazing like a kaadu in headlights. Jago's voice had a tendency to carry. He forced a smile for them and waved his hand along, clearly indicating them to not pay any mind. With a befuddled grin in reply, the pair made their way for the turbolifts and turned their talk and minds to more important matters than Jago Pulastra throwing another "tantrum".
He turned back to Dav, pacing away from the group at large. Restless, always restless.
" You've said it yourself, we've all been pushed to the breaking point in defending our home, here. I've spent the better part of two weeks in a cockpit, and I still get sleep. Tebana has been down in that frelling basement making sure our thousand braves aren't dying from Massassi Fever and severed limbs, and she still gets sleep.. Zuli has been overseeing every single damn aspect of the defense within the Temple and has also been on patrol and recon beyond the perimeter, and still gets sleep."
Jago strode up to Man'sell, his hands and arms incredibly animated as he spoke in rising volume. To hells with the Battlemaster's logic: Pulastra hated when he tried to use that dizzying intellect to weasel his way into doing what suited him at the moment.
" Ronan, Chalco, every single last Jedi and Trooper and Civvie here, they all. Get. Sleep. And they still do their jobs and the Praxeum is still defended. What in the Seven Hells of Krath makes you so special as to think you're the only damn one holding the line out there!? If you really think you're the only thing tying this defense together, then surely you can see how much of a dren-hole we'd be in if you died because you were exhausted, idiot!" ~
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Zuli Madoon
- Posts: 26
- Joined: Sun Nov 17, 2013 8:57 pm
Re: Hangar
Zuli allowed his head to drop, taking in the words of his wise companions. Even Dav had made a few valid points. He had been vital in so many endeavors so far. But then so had every other being in their gathered council. The Jedi Titan folded his secondary arms behind his back, clasping one hand gently with the other. His primary arms came forward, fingers interlocked, now resting above his belt..
"I too have seen these moments. Convergences in The Force, centered around objects, people and places. One small detail making or breaking a situation at any given time. The slightest action creating ripples, ebbing outwards and changing things.."
Zuli gestured as he spoke, his primary hands opening and seemed to act out the Aged Jedi's words. First bringing his hands together, connecting his finger tips. Then supinating his left hand, then drawing an imaginary line from the tip of his thumb to the middle of his palm, then his middle finger to palm and finally his pinky finger. He rested his finger tip in the middle of his hand indicating a small detail, before forming a fist and then rapidly opening his hand as if to show the object was destroyed..
The Jedi Titan clicked his fingers and finally bought his hands together before him once more, this time in prayer position. He finished by enacting outward waves with his hands before holding them out wide, as if he were embracing all those present..
"My Master would say something so pertinent to this situation.." He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat.. " 'Always in motion is the future, and many possible futures there are..' These shatter points you and I are seeing, could very well lead to the destruction of a unit of soldiers, or the loss of a squadron of fighters. Perhaps even to the death of any of us present here.. But as always, the future is not certain. There is so much death and destruction here, like a blanket of despair, that it clouds even my deepest probes into The Force.. But one thing is certain, running yourself into the ground will not change the events yet to pass. If anything, it will exacerbate an already horrendous situation.."
Zuli looked directly into Dav's dark eyes. His own slowly changed from a deep Jade to a warm Amber and back..
"Killing yourself to prevent that which is uncertain, will not bring victory and safety to those we are sworn to protect. You are diminishing your own skills, abilities and even your judgement by these actions.."
Zuli's expression softened.. "Dav, you need to rest before your best intentions bring about that which you seek to prevent.."
"I too have seen these moments. Convergences in The Force, centered around objects, people and places. One small detail making or breaking a situation at any given time. The slightest action creating ripples, ebbing outwards and changing things.."
Zuli gestured as he spoke, his primary hands opening and seemed to act out the Aged Jedi's words. First bringing his hands together, connecting his finger tips. Then supinating his left hand, then drawing an imaginary line from the tip of his thumb to the middle of his palm, then his middle finger to palm and finally his pinky finger. He rested his finger tip in the middle of his hand indicating a small detail, before forming a fist and then rapidly opening his hand as if to show the object was destroyed..
The Jedi Titan clicked his fingers and finally bought his hands together before him once more, this time in prayer position. He finished by enacting outward waves with his hands before holding them out wide, as if he were embracing all those present..
"My Master would say something so pertinent to this situation.." He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat.. " 'Always in motion is the future, and many possible futures there are..' These shatter points you and I are seeing, could very well lead to the destruction of a unit of soldiers, or the loss of a squadron of fighters. Perhaps even to the death of any of us present here.. But as always, the future is not certain. There is so much death and destruction here, like a blanket of despair, that it clouds even my deepest probes into The Force.. But one thing is certain, running yourself into the ground will not change the events yet to pass. If anything, it will exacerbate an already horrendous situation.."
Zuli looked directly into Dav's dark eyes. His own slowly changed from a deep Jade to a warm Amber and back..
"Killing yourself to prevent that which is uncertain, will not bring victory and safety to those we are sworn to protect. You are diminishing your own skills, abilities and even your judgement by these actions.."
Zuli's expression softened.. "Dav, you need to rest before your best intentions bring about that which you seek to prevent.."
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Ronan Starflare
- TORPEDO!
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 2:34 am
Re: Hangar
"Unbelievable." "Will you please get your head out of your ass and LISTEN TO US! For one in your forcedamned life!""
"Don't you see it!? How utterly ronto-brained you're being? It's bad enough the blasted Mandos want us all dead! So why the Hells are you helping them!?"
"You know what!? Fine! You want to go back out into the jungle, you go right ahead..."
"...but you're gonna have to get past me to do it."
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Lita Trykk
- Resident Zabrak
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 1:57 am
Re: Hangar
The cracking hiss of a second blade echoed that of the Jedi's, the eerie, colorless light illuminating the stern countenance of its wielder. The Zabrak had materialized from the darkness of Dav's own shadow, so close to his shoulder that it was clear she had already been there, cloaked from the normal spectrum of light.
Lita kept the blade lowered in a purely defensive position, not in line with her own body, but with her master's.
"...This sounds less like friendly concern, than it does mutiny."
Her words addressed everyone gathered, but her focus remained fixed on Ronan's stance.
"Jendovsta!* Have humans never experienced war, before?" Lita's gaze flickered briefly to Zuli, the bridge of her nose wrinkling as she realized her slip, and grimaced. "...Tze'jhere,** whatever."
The Zabrak took a step forward, not with aggressive intent in spite of the show of weapons, but as a visual insistence that she have her turn to be heard.
"Yavin still stands, doesn't she? We're still alive against impossible odds, aren't we? Do you think that's an accident? That the enemy is not giving us their all?"
She gave a slight shake of her head, her look one of incredulity, this time at Jago. She was imploring now, trying to convince him, at least, whom understood her hearts beast.
"It is considered standard procedure for the generals and leaders of Iridonia to push their bodies beyond their physical limits during times of war. It is expected, demanded of them. Every Iridonian warrior knows how far they are able to go, and her leaders are experienced enough...and responsible enough...to know when they need rest. If Master Man'Sell says he has not reached that point, then it is our responsibility to follow his lead. War is not the time for turning on our generals and sending them to bed like disobedient kep*!"
Finally, her red eyes returned to Ronan's green ones, and something in them must have caught her attention. She took a step towards him, then another, leaning in daringly close with her voice dropping dangerously soft.
"Do I vex you, Ay'vyshtal*? Well, I should..."
Lita deactivated her blade, gradually relaxing her stance.
"...I am you." ~
Lita kept the blade lowered in a purely defensive position, not in line with her own body, but with her master's.
"...This sounds less like friendly concern, than it does mutiny."
Her words addressed everyone gathered, but her focus remained fixed on Ronan's stance.
"Jendovsta!* Have humans never experienced war, before?" Lita's gaze flickered briefly to Zuli, the bridge of her nose wrinkling as she realized her slip, and grimaced. "...Tze'jhere,** whatever."
The Zabrak took a step forward, not with aggressive intent in spite of the show of weapons, but as a visual insistence that she have her turn to be heard.
"Yavin still stands, doesn't she? We're still alive against impossible odds, aren't we? Do you think that's an accident? That the enemy is not giving us their all?"
She gave a slight shake of her head, her look one of incredulity, this time at Jago. She was imploring now, trying to convince him, at least, whom understood her hearts beast.
"It is considered standard procedure for the generals and leaders of Iridonia to push their bodies beyond their physical limits during times of war. It is expected, demanded of them. Every Iridonian warrior knows how far they are able to go, and her leaders are experienced enough...and responsible enough...to know when they need rest. If Master Man'Sell says he has not reached that point, then it is our responsibility to follow his lead. War is not the time for turning on our generals and sending them to bed like disobedient kep*!"
Finally, her red eyes returned to Ronan's green ones, and something in them must have caught her attention. She took a step towards him, then another, leaning in daringly close with her voice dropping dangerously soft.
"Do I vex you, Ay'vyshtal*? Well, I should..."
Lita deactivated her blade, gradually relaxing her stance.
"...I am you." ~
-
Ronan Starflare
- TORPEDO!
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 2:34 am
Re: Hangar
"You don't know a thing about me."
"Who I am? What I've done?"
"I have seen things you wouldn't believe. I have lost things you could never understand. And I've wrought things...things that would make even the strongest of your kind cower."
"Mind your place, Padawan. You're not on Iridonia anymore. Your words do not carry the same clout here that they do on that Force-forsaken rock."
"I am sorry. That was...uncalled for."
-
Dav Man'Sell
- Jedi Battlemaster
- Posts: 342
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 12:18 am
Re: Hangar
To Ronan, and Zuli, and Jago, Dav had remained stoically quiet, head dipped thoughtfully, not meeting their eye. It was perhaps his silence that had spurned further outbursts, perhaps even his silence that had driven Ronan's frustration so far that he drew his blade. At that point, Dav's eye had met Ronan's fiercely. A silent warning. Not that Dav would strike, not that he could best the younger Jedi, but that taking such a step was not the path of the Jedi.
Would you strike me, Ronan? Would you use such methods to stop me? If I were to walk, straight for that door, would you really injure me to stop me?
Would you really?
The thing that concerned Dav, suddenly and for the first time in many years, was that he wasn't actually sure of the answer; and when it came to a question such as this, about someone he knew so well?
Historically, that had been the point where things had gone very wrong.
His line of thought was interrupted by the appearance of Lita, so close she could be touching him, her own colourless blade springing between him and Ronan. He recoiled, just slightly, from her sudden appearance, and, not for the first time since they'd met, he found himself in awe of her and her skills. And then, when she spoke in his defence, humbled. Her faith in him, her loyalty, the fierceness of her words as she defended him, surprised him. He knew such things as loyalty and clan identity ran deeply in the Iridonian culture, he also knew that they had very strong feelings on the duty of warriors, on the honour in war, and philosophically, he admired a lot of their ideals.
None the less, he was surprised by her words. Surprised that her faith and loyalty was given to him in such an extent so soon.
And also, at how much differently it made him view matters. As she spoke, he watched her purposefully, the slightest of smiles crossing now parted lips, his brow furrowing, this time in surprise, over dark eyes.
I think Lita and I really are going to make quite the team.
His doubts and indecisiveness were resolved in that moment; in her words, she forged the resolution of his answer. He opened his lips to answer her - but Ronan beat him to it. An icy voice, a chill within it that went to a dangerous place, and again, Dav's eyes snapped to Ronan. His chin lifted, and suddenly, Dav's weary mind felt very focused.
His mind suddenly recalled a moment, on a landing pad, on Osarian. The shadow of the build-in-progress Osarian Jedi outpost over them. A gentle breeze carrying off of Lake Kacik. Dav, Tebana, freshly arrived, surprised to discover Ronan there. Dav's hand, gently closing around his Lightsaber in caution all those years ago, as the Osarian sun had dipped behind a heavy cloud, just as Ronan's own goodness was slowly shrouded in the heavy cloud of the Dark Side.
Dav found himself turning words over in his mind. Words that had been drummed into his head as a small child, nearly a century ago.
And then the moment passed. Ronan's anger receded, as though those words had spoken to the young, sandy-haired Jedi just as they had sprung to Dav's mind.
A long silence hung in the hangar. It seemed as though most of the vast, cavernous bay was now watching them. Dav turned his head for a moment, looking about the bay, turning over the effect such a confrontation as theirs might have on the morale of a tired and endangered fighting force, even one with the high level of skill and discipline of the Peacekeeping Taskforce. He straightened, his left arm shifting the weight of both the medpack tucked under it, and the armour hanging by straps from his curled fist, so that that weight hung behind him more than in front. His chin lifted, and he was reminded why he had wanted to take this somewhere more private to begin with. He spoke softly, calmly, his lips barely moving.
"I think... maybe... this has all gone quite far enough."
He looked at Lita, then turned on the spot to look back at Zuli, Jago, Tebana, before he looked pointedly at Ronan.
"Lita's right. I do know my own limits, my own breaking point, and you all need to trust me to know what I'm doing. Even if I hadn't proven that personally to all of you by now, I have been fighting in horrible, messy wars for a lot longer than..." Dav glanced at Zuli, the one man in the Praxeum who still had plenty of years on him, and after a moment, gave a small shrug. "...well, than most of you, at any rate. That kind of experience alone has a way of teaching you a thing or two about yourself. About what you can and cannot withstand. I've got to say, I'm finding the lack of faith... I wouldn't go as far as to say disturbing, but a little disappointing, at least."
He dipped his chin almost to his chest, but his neck remained upright, his lips pursed as though he was looking aside.
"That being said...."
His gaze flicked to meet Tebana's for a moment, a small, lopsided, conciliatory smile tugging his lips.
".... they're right as well, Lita." He met the Iridonian's eyes now, looking into those fiercely powerful garnets, brows arching high above his own eyes. "I am closer to those limits than I have been admitting. And, just as accurately, my limits might also not be where I imagine them to be, at least not when it comes to this battlefield." He took a step towards her, canting his head aside. "I've been too focused on where I was, on what I was doing. Something that has undone many a General over history, Iridonian, Jedi, or otherwise. It's the same mistake the Jedi made in the Clone Wars, and it led to their near-extinction for thirty years. I do need to ensure I make it past today, and tomorrow, and the next, at least as much as I can. I need to look at a bigger picture. I have obligations, promises to keep, duties I must fulfil. To you, to Joshua."
His head turned to Ronan, holding there for a long few seconds, and then, his gaze dipped into the middle distance, thoughtfully, before he turned his head to the other three again.
"To a lot of people. And on top of that, there are still a lot of questions around this invasion, questions that do not have answers yet, and I need to find them. Which I'm not likely to be able to do if I get myself killed."
His tongue ran over his top teeth beneath his lip, his jaw working thoughtfully, head dipped.
"I'm going to take a shower. I'm going to get a good ten or twelve hours sleep, if I can. And if I do happen to sense something that needs attending to?"
His gaze swept across the five of them, and he pressed his lips tightly together.
"Well, let's just say you all better keep your comms switched on."
He turned to look at Ronan now, taking a step towards the young Jedi Master. This next part was for him, specifically.
"Ro, do not be so quick to dismiss Lita's insights. She may be new to the Jedi, but she's also seen a lot of the Galaxy, and we might all find we can learn a thing or two from her, and from the Iridonian philosophy."
He threw another glance out at the Hangar, where people had returned to their duty, though a few cautious glances still went in their direction, from time to time.
"But that aside, it mightn't hurt for you two to make a little bit of a show of shaking hands and making up. Last thing we need is for the troops to think we're fighting among ourselves."
Would you strike me, Ronan? Would you use such methods to stop me? If I were to walk, straight for that door, would you really injure me to stop me?
Would you really?
The thing that concerned Dav, suddenly and for the first time in many years, was that he wasn't actually sure of the answer; and when it came to a question such as this, about someone he knew so well?
Historically, that had been the point where things had gone very wrong.
His line of thought was interrupted by the appearance of Lita, so close she could be touching him, her own colourless blade springing between him and Ronan. He recoiled, just slightly, from her sudden appearance, and, not for the first time since they'd met, he found himself in awe of her and her skills. And then, when she spoke in his defence, humbled. Her faith in him, her loyalty, the fierceness of her words as she defended him, surprised him. He knew such things as loyalty and clan identity ran deeply in the Iridonian culture, he also knew that they had very strong feelings on the duty of warriors, on the honour in war, and philosophically, he admired a lot of their ideals.
None the less, he was surprised by her words. Surprised that her faith and loyalty was given to him in such an extent so soon.
And also, at how much differently it made him view matters. As she spoke, he watched her purposefully, the slightest of smiles crossing now parted lips, his brow furrowing, this time in surprise, over dark eyes.
I think Lita and I really are going to make quite the team.
His doubts and indecisiveness were resolved in that moment; in her words, she forged the resolution of his answer. He opened his lips to answer her - but Ronan beat him to it. An icy voice, a chill within it that went to a dangerous place, and again, Dav's eyes snapped to Ronan. His chin lifted, and suddenly, Dav's weary mind felt very focused.
His mind suddenly recalled a moment, on a landing pad, on Osarian. The shadow of the build-in-progress Osarian Jedi outpost over them. A gentle breeze carrying off of Lake Kacik. Dav, Tebana, freshly arrived, surprised to discover Ronan there. Dav's hand, gently closing around his Lightsaber in caution all those years ago, as the Osarian sun had dipped behind a heavy cloud, just as Ronan's own goodness was slowly shrouded in the heavy cloud of the Dark Side.
Dav found himself turning words over in his mind. Words that had been drummed into his head as a small child, nearly a century ago.
And then the moment passed. Ronan's anger receded, as though those words had spoken to the young, sandy-haired Jedi just as they had sprung to Dav's mind.
A long silence hung in the hangar. It seemed as though most of the vast, cavernous bay was now watching them. Dav turned his head for a moment, looking about the bay, turning over the effect such a confrontation as theirs might have on the morale of a tired and endangered fighting force, even one with the high level of skill and discipline of the Peacekeeping Taskforce. He straightened, his left arm shifting the weight of both the medpack tucked under it, and the armour hanging by straps from his curled fist, so that that weight hung behind him more than in front. His chin lifted, and he was reminded why he had wanted to take this somewhere more private to begin with. He spoke softly, calmly, his lips barely moving.
"I think... maybe... this has all gone quite far enough."
He looked at Lita, then turned on the spot to look back at Zuli, Jago, Tebana, before he looked pointedly at Ronan.
"Lita's right. I do know my own limits, my own breaking point, and you all need to trust me to know what I'm doing. Even if I hadn't proven that personally to all of you by now, I have been fighting in horrible, messy wars for a lot longer than..." Dav glanced at Zuli, the one man in the Praxeum who still had plenty of years on him, and after a moment, gave a small shrug. "...well, than most of you, at any rate. That kind of experience alone has a way of teaching you a thing or two about yourself. About what you can and cannot withstand. I've got to say, I'm finding the lack of faith... I wouldn't go as far as to say disturbing, but a little disappointing, at least."
He dipped his chin almost to his chest, but his neck remained upright, his lips pursed as though he was looking aside.
"That being said...."
His gaze flicked to meet Tebana's for a moment, a small, lopsided, conciliatory smile tugging his lips.
".... they're right as well, Lita." He met the Iridonian's eyes now, looking into those fiercely powerful garnets, brows arching high above his own eyes. "I am closer to those limits than I have been admitting. And, just as accurately, my limits might also not be where I imagine them to be, at least not when it comes to this battlefield." He took a step towards her, canting his head aside. "I've been too focused on where I was, on what I was doing. Something that has undone many a General over history, Iridonian, Jedi, or otherwise. It's the same mistake the Jedi made in the Clone Wars, and it led to their near-extinction for thirty years. I do need to ensure I make it past today, and tomorrow, and the next, at least as much as I can. I need to look at a bigger picture. I have obligations, promises to keep, duties I must fulfil. To you, to Joshua."
His head turned to Ronan, holding there for a long few seconds, and then, his gaze dipped into the middle distance, thoughtfully, before he turned his head to the other three again.
"To a lot of people. And on top of that, there are still a lot of questions around this invasion, questions that do not have answers yet, and I need to find them. Which I'm not likely to be able to do if I get myself killed."
His tongue ran over his top teeth beneath his lip, his jaw working thoughtfully, head dipped.
"I'm going to take a shower. I'm going to get a good ten or twelve hours sleep, if I can. And if I do happen to sense something that needs attending to?"
His gaze swept across the five of them, and he pressed his lips tightly together.
"Well, let's just say you all better keep your comms switched on."
He turned to look at Ronan now, taking a step towards the young Jedi Master. This next part was for him, specifically.
"Ro, do not be so quick to dismiss Lita's insights. She may be new to the Jedi, but she's also seen a lot of the Galaxy, and we might all find we can learn a thing or two from her, and from the Iridonian philosophy."
He threw another glance out at the Hangar, where people had returned to their duty, though a few cautious glances still went in their direction, from time to time.
"But that aside, it mightn't hurt for you two to make a little bit of a show of shaking hands and making up. Last thing we need is for the troops to think we're fighting among ourselves."
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Lita Trykk
- Resident Zabrak
- Posts: 84
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 1:57 am
Re: Hangar
~There it was. That penetrating cold that held no comfort in its familiarity. It washed over her, pierced her soul in a way that was all too easy at a time when she thought she had just left this all behind.
The desire to succumb to it was staggering; to respond with anger in kind as her pride became the first victim of Ronan's freezing fire.
From Empress and leader of a people, to a padawan beneath the boot of a man half your age. My, how small you've become, Lita Trykk.
And how tempting to show him what power she really had, to show her strong blood-line of experience in combat and Force, her more-than-a-half-century's life of unending pain, through weapons and storms of Force energy that begged to be utilized.
Fear, being Anger's tag-along cousin, followed close behind.
How she wanted to run, to abandon the face of this moon and those upon it to their imminent doom. What ever made her think she would be accepted here, welcomed here, of all places? Rejection had been the first lesson of her life, taught to her by her own father upon the day she first took in breath, and compounded at every milestone of her life thereafter.
So was it any wonder that her learned response to the first small obstacle to get in her way, the first small sign that things were not going to be easy, was to abandon the path altogether and reject them before she herself was forsaken all over again?
The pain contorted on her face, her eagerness to run humiliatingly visible before she could tamp it down and fumble for the peace these Jedi Masters keep eluding to. But in the wake of the Dark Side's tide, she feared being swept too far beneath the waves to find it.
She forced herself to look away from Ronan, avoiding Jago's gaze all the while in her shame, and instead faced Dav Man'Sell. In all of her battles and trials, this had to have been the most difficult maneuver she had executed, yet. To just...look away. At the risk of being stabbed in the back by an opponent, at walking away from a fight, and to listen to what calmer words had to say.
In the end what they said, was to 'shake hands.' She winced. And then she corrected her last thought.
This. This was going to be the most difficult maneuver she had executed, yet.
She turned back to stare hard at Ronan.
I know how you feel better than you think I do, she thought to herself.
She offered her hand to him.
...I don't want to have anything in common with a Jee'dai, either..~
The desire to succumb to it was staggering; to respond with anger in kind as her pride became the first victim of Ronan's freezing fire.
From Empress and leader of a people, to a padawan beneath the boot of a man half your age. My, how small you've become, Lita Trykk.
And how tempting to show him what power she really had, to show her strong blood-line of experience in combat and Force, her more-than-a-half-century's life of unending pain, through weapons and storms of Force energy that begged to be utilized.
Fear, being Anger's tag-along cousin, followed close behind.
How she wanted to run, to abandon the face of this moon and those upon it to their imminent doom. What ever made her think she would be accepted here, welcomed here, of all places? Rejection had been the first lesson of her life, taught to her by her own father upon the day she first took in breath, and compounded at every milestone of her life thereafter.
So was it any wonder that her learned response to the first small obstacle to get in her way, the first small sign that things were not going to be easy, was to abandon the path altogether and reject them before she herself was forsaken all over again?
The pain contorted on her face, her eagerness to run humiliatingly visible before she could tamp it down and fumble for the peace these Jedi Masters keep eluding to. But in the wake of the Dark Side's tide, she feared being swept too far beneath the waves to find it.
She forced herself to look away from Ronan, avoiding Jago's gaze all the while in her shame, and instead faced Dav Man'Sell. In all of her battles and trials, this had to have been the most difficult maneuver she had executed, yet. To just...look away. At the risk of being stabbed in the back by an opponent, at walking away from a fight, and to listen to what calmer words had to say.
In the end what they said, was to 'shake hands.' She winced. And then she corrected her last thought.
This. This was going to be the most difficult maneuver she had executed, yet.
She turned back to stare hard at Ronan.
I know how you feel better than you think I do, she thought to herself.
She offered her hand to him.
...I don't want to have anything in common with a Jee'dai, either..~
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Ronan Starflare
- TORPEDO!
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 2:34 am
Re: Hangar
What is it about her that made me respond like him?
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