Chapter 20: You Might Say We're Encouraged To Love
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Hyenanon
stims neurodivergently into oncoming pedestrians
- Joined
- Oct 25, 2023
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Chapter 20: You Might Say We're Encouraged To Love
Arwain slapped the holocron onto the table in between Nerim and the Dug.
Tetha's eyes widened. "Be careful with that thing!"
The Jedi Master shrugged. "Please, it's lasted a thousand years, it's most certainly not fragile," she said, rubbing her hands together. "Now, you said this is Darth Machina?"
Nerim balked. "Master, don't tell me you're planning on turning it on."
"Why wouldn't I?" Arwain asked, confused.
"Why would you?"
"Because it's there."
Tetha and Nerim shared a concerned glance. "You're absolutely sure she's a Jedi?" Tetha cautiously whispered.
"Well, I...met her in the Temple," Nerim's brow furrowed. "Perhaps I should check a roster or something."
"I'm not going to activate it right now," Arwain chuckled, putting a hand on top of Nerim's head. "Fear not, I know what I'm doing."
"Well I don't know what you're doing," Nerim objected as she ruffled his hair, "In fact I have no idea what you've been doing for the past day! You seem to have gotten into a remarkably dangerous situation!"
"Oh, that hardly counts," she waved her hand, "You weren't even there!"
"Masterrr..." Nerim pouted.
"Young Nerim, I realize that you might be unaware, but I am something of an expert in Sith holocrons," Arwain chided, pushing the Dug over so she could take a seat. The Dug looked extremely uncomfortable sandwiched in the booth between Nerim and Arwain. "It's actually really exciting to find a new one."
"How many Sith Lords have you spoken to, exactly?"
Arwain gave him an enigmatic smile as Jianno filled a thermos with caf and started moving to the cockpit. "I'll set us for Coruscant," she called back.
Tetha watched as she left, and then stared aimlessly at the wall. "Coruscant..." She repeated breathlessly. After a moment, she turned to Arwain. "Is my father dead?"
The Master gave her a concerned look. "Not unless Jianno killed him while I wasn't looking. Jianno! Did you kill this girl's father?"
Jianno's voice echoed from the cockpit. "Who's that?"
"I don't know!"
Jianno did not verbally respond, but Nerim could sense a frustrated scowl.
"Tosh-Ran Rhissa," Tetha answered quietly.
"Oh. No, I don't believe he's dead," Arwain answered. "He's quite the duelist, though. It's been decades since someone came at me with a cortosis-weave vibroblade."
Nerim ran a hand through his hair to try and straighten it out. "Goodness, what is with you people..."
Tetha's eyes dropped to the floor. Arwain tilted her head, and spoke with concern. "You act like you would rather him be dead."
"I don't know," Tetha sighed, "Now I worry that he'll be looking for me."
"Oh," Arwain said, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. "You had an adversarial relationship, I take it?"
Tetha leaned on the wall and crossed her arms. "He has a...professional interest in me."
"How disturbingly vague!" Arwain said, straightening up. "But far be it from me to pry for details. I'll respect your privacy. By the way, have you been training to become a Sith Lord?"
Tetha stared at her for a few long moments, and then glanced to Nerim. "Disarmingly direct, huh?"
Nerim laughed, then immediately cringed in pain and clutched his stomach. "Master, she's not a Sith."
"Not what I asked," Arwain's eyes narrowed.
Tetha turned away and strode out of the room. "Assume what you want," she said bitterly as she disappeared from view.
With Tetha gone, Arwain's eyes focused on Nerim. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Go ahead. I can tell something's on your mind, Master."
"Why yes, actually," Arwain smiled. "Lots of things, really. But we can set that aside for right now. I wanted to congratulate you, apprentice."
He raised a wary eyebrow. "Um. Thank you?"
"I sense remarkably little conflict in you," she explained. "When we first met, you didn't want to be a Jedi. Up through our training, your trip to Ilum, and our venture on Raxus, you were wracked with doubts and anxieties. But you seem much more sure of yourself now, and I think it's paying off."
He pursed his lips in thought. Somehow he did feel...at ease. He couldn't believe how smoothly everything went. No—not smoothly. It was a disaster every step of the way, just like always. But somehow he just...went with it, and he handled every problem as it came.
Was a stronger, better person? Probably. But there was something more to it, a sort of inspiration that had taken hold. He was no better suited to resolve the complications that arose on Utapau than he had been on Raxus, but he had suddenly gone from fighting against the current to using it. He was tacking into the wind, just like Arwain had told him he would.
She nodded up to the clock on the wall. "You know what day it is?"
He thought for a moment, and then shook his head.
"This is the sixth month anniversary of me pressganging you into being my Padawan," Arwain smiled fondly. "I told you back then that you only had to give me a chance, I'd let you go if you got to this point and still didn't want to be a Jedi. I planned to keep up my end of the bargain. Honestly, I was hoping to positively influence your decision by making you interested in exploring Utapau and solving the mystery of the holocron," she chuckled, "But it seems that things never go as planned."
Nerim's mouth curled into a tight frown. "You're giving me a chance to quit?"
"Not just a chance," she leaned back, "You're free to quit the Jedi whenever you want. I'm not going to force you to stay as my apprentice. I tried my best to make sure you got to feel the Force, and I think you really have, beyond even my expectations. From now on, you're the master of your life."
She let the conversation grow silent, smiling fondly at him while he examined her for any hint of joking or implication. He couldn't find anything. She was really being as straightforward as she could be.
Nerim cast his eyes down and inhaled, his lungs filling with spiced air and the smell of ozone. There was a familiar lurch and snap as the ship slingshot into hyperspace, and then the smooth, gentle caress of the superluminal lanes. He thought about where he was going, and the word that came to mind startled him: He was going home, to the Temple. It was a home that he didn't particularly like. In fact, he had preferred quite literally everywhere he had ever been other than the Temple. The thought of returning to that building inspired within him with a sort of mild dread. But he had started thinking of it as home.
Perhaps he would find a better home elsewhere. Perhaps he was just the type of person who didn't like being home. But perhaps it was where he belonged for now. And perhaps Arwain was right; there really needed to be some sort of change from the inside of that big, cold, gray building.
He exhaled, and nodded to the passage Tetha had disappeared down. "What's going to happen to her when we get back?"
"Oh, hell if I know," Arwain shrugged. "I don't plan on arresting her, if that's what you're asking. But a Force Sensitive student training under a Sith holocron? Hasn't happened for a century or two at least. Honestly..." She trailed off, "Might just not tell the Council about her. What a teeth-pulling conversation that would be."
Nerim's jaw dropped. "You would keep secrets from the Council? About the Sith?"
She looked Nerim in the eye, dead serious. "Do you trust her?"
He considered the question for a moment. "Yes."
"Then I trust her," Arwain said as if it were as easy as confirming the sky was blue. "Listen, Nerim, I told you this six months ago as well; we must not live our lives jumping at shadows and preparing to go to war with the Sith every moment of our lives, or else winning the war had no purpose. Be honest with me, did you open the holocron?"
He shook his head, and then stopped. "Well, no. But Tetha did."
"Right. Not that scary, was he?"
"He was...terrifying," Nerim shuddered, remembering that inhuman crawling sensation, the pressure in his mind and the sludge in his soul. "He tried to convince Tetha to kill me."
"Precisely, Nerim!" She leaned forward. "But she didn't, and so he still sits in his pyramid, powerless. That is the nature of the Sith. They seek absolute victory with ravenous hunger. It's scary when you first encounter it. The power radiating off of them, the Darkness, that absolute nature, it seems insurmountable, that things could be no other way."
She pulled out a lighter and flicked it open, emitting a small flame. "But Sith always deal in absolutes. That is their weakness," she continued. "Their victory must be total and absolute, or else it is a failure. Total, absolute darkness seems powerful because it convinces you that it is the natural state of things, that it cannot be touched or combated, it surrounds and penetrates all things. But it is the most fragile and tenuous of all forces, because light—any amount of light—utterly overpowers any darkness. And everything in this universe emits light. The Sith cannot defeat a person who can say no."
Nerim sat and thought for a moment. "So I...shouldn't always say yes?"
"And how do you expect me to answer that?" Arwain winked. "With a yes-or-no?"
Nerim thought about how to respond, before settling with an unsure "...Maybe?"
Arwain turned to the Dug sat in the middle of the booth. "Will you get a load of this Padawan?"
"Ahh!" Nerim jumped in his seat, "By the Force, I forgot about him!"
The Dug whined pitifully.
Arwain laughed loudly, patting the Dug on the shoulder. "You know, Nerim," She sighed in contentment and spoke more quietly, "You should probably go check in on Tetha. I imagine she could use a friendly ear, but I don't think she likes me. I think she likes you, though."
Nerim was still for a second, and then nodded and stood up, moving towards the passage. Before he could get past the doorway, Arwain called after him.
"By the way! You still haven't answered my question!"
"Which one?" Nerim turned to her.
"About whether you'll stay as my Padawan or not."
"You didn't ask," he said, rounding the corner. His weary legs carried him down the corridor, towards the cargo bay. The smooth metal hallway twisted around the core of the ship and each footstep made a dull clung as he limped his way down it.
Eventually, he peeked his head into the cargo bay. Along with the numerous crates that were already there, there was a cart that had been filled with the numerous pieces of armor, weaponry, and slag he had seen in the curiosity room at Tetha's mansion. Tetha herself sat on a crate next to it, pensively holding a Mandalorian beskar gauntlet in her hands.
She looked up as Nerim entered. "Hey," he said.
Tetha didn't answer. Her face was as cryptically blank as ever.
Nerim decided to take the leap of faith and sat down next to her. "I'm sorry that things are...hectic for you now."
She shook her head. "They always have been, I guess. I'm not going to miss that hellish mansion, and perhaps it's for the best that the holocron gets locked in a vault somewhere," she sighed, gripping the gauntlet harder. "I just...think I will miss Crybaby and Tiny."
He nodded. "I think I'll miss them, too. I'm developing quite the gallery of people I'll miss, actually," he said, his mind drifting back to watching the Cathar ship depart.
She briefly met eyes with Nerim, and then looked back down. "It's cold and the air is thin in here," she said, fiddling with the gauntlet.
Nerim looked down at it. "Is that glove important to you? I could convince Jianno to part with it."
Tetha shook her head. "No. Not at all. It's just that...when I was very small—just out of the tube, I think, there was another clone. She used to hold my hand when I got upset." She glanced at him, all the ice and steel having melted from her expression. "Stars, I don't know why I told you that. That's so embarrassing."
He frowned. "It is not. What was her name?"
"Oh, I don't think she had a name," Tetha sighed.
"That's..." Nerim tried to search for a word other than 'horrifying', and couldn't find one.
Tetha sat in silence for a moment, and then tossed the gauntlet into the pile. She reached over and grabbed Nerim's hand and held it between hers. He offered no resistance, for his part, letting the moment stretch on. He wasn't sure there was anything he could say, so he just settled on being there.
"Where are you going to drop me off?" She finally asked.
"I don't wanna think about that," Nerim sighed. "I already have too many people to miss. Can we at least spend a couple more hours trying to kill each other?"
She giggled, just a little.
Nerim felt that fluttery sensation in his chest again. "You have a really nice laugh, you know."
Tetha smiled at him, small and reserved but genuine. "You have a nice sense of humor."
He thought for a moment. "My Master tells me that a sense of humor and a sense of the Force go hand in hand. Although sometimes I think she's just trying to get me to lighten up. I've been known to be a bit of a party killer."
"A Jedi? Party killer?" She asked sarcastically. "Hah...what was it like, growing up as a Jedi?"
He took a breath and shrugged, staring at the ceiling. "It wasn't like much of anything. Your first memories are meditation training. You're told your whole life you exist for a predetermined reason. You have no family, you're surrounded by people with no families—hell, you never even see a family. Practically have no idea what it is. You just live in these smooth white chambers, waiting for your next test, and the one after that, and the one after that, watching the people around you succeed more than you and get the privilege of continued status quo, or fail more than you and get washed out..."
She squeezed his hand tightly. He turned to look at her, and though her expression was still muted, tears ran down her cheeks. "I...I understand exactly how you feel, Nerim," she said softly.
He put on his best unimpressed face. "No you don't, you haven't been elbowed in the nose today."
She laughed, and then the laughter turned into crying, and then back into laughter again. She leaned into him, and he leaned back. They stayed there for some time, until Nerim felt her shift in position. He turned to her, and then felt her lips touch his. He began to question the event, and then decided not to, and gently pressed into the kiss himself.
It was somewhat awkward, being that they were both in pain, covered in dry sweat and bruises, sitting on a cargo crate in a hijacked alien's ship, but it only made it more important to return the kiss; where their lips touched was the most comfortable place he could imagine at the moment.
After a moment, they broke, and Tetha looked at him with a wide grin, her nose scrunched in that way he had somehow decided a long time ago he really liked. "Sorry about your face," she said.
"Don't worry, I have a good memory," he said breathlessly. "I'll get you back one of these days."
She giggled.
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They spent some time together, before sleep threatened to take them. Tetha wandered off to the shower, and Nerim meandered back into the main room, to find Jianno and the Dug drinking and laughing together, trading what he assumed were either interesting stories or absurdly long insults with each other in Huttese.
He moved past the party towards the cockpit, where he hoped there was a comfortable seat in a relatively quiet spot. He was right, of course, and so was his master, who was sitting with the Sith holocron in her lap, thumbing through her datapad.
She looked up at him and gave him that coy expression which he knew meant that she was aware of something he wouldn't like. He sighed. No point in turning around now. He plopped in the seat next to hers and started double checking the nav computer and news feeds.
His eyes darted to her and back to the console. He broke first. "Master I get the strangest feeling you have another long lecture for me."
"Oh no," she chuckled, "Don't worry about that. Actually, I got the impression you wanted to tell me something."
Nerim thought for a moment, and sighed. That endless second-guessing and self-examination the Temple had taught him was catching up to him. "I'm somewhat concerned about my senses. I got this...feeling, which I presumed was within the Force. It was a light, fluttering feeling in my chest that I had never had before. I'm starting to worry that it's not a feeling in the Force. It may be..."
"Your concerns are correct, Nerim," she said, wistfully looking out the window into hyperspace, "And so were your original thoughts. It's both. How could it ever be just one or the other?"
He aimlessly tapped at the console, scrolling by traffic reports without actually reading them. "...You're not upset with me?"
"Oh please, don't have one intimate experience and go treating me like an innocent summer child," She huffed, "I've kissed my fair share of Dark Jedi also."
Nerim froze, and slowly turned to his master. "...Are we sure you're a Jedi?"
Arwain grinned slyly at him, her fingers drumming on the Sith holocron in her lap. "You're allowed to pick up anything you can let go, Nerim. No more, no less."
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I swear I didn't plan to upload the big finale of the arc on May the 4th, but sometimes things just work out, eh? This is the end of my prepared material, and like last time, I have no idea at all when the next updates will come. Like I said, I don't seem to want to upload until I have a big batch. At the risk of sounding self absorbed, this is a very intricate story with lots of looping motifs, and so it's easier to make as big chunks than bit by bit. Any comments at all would be greatly appreciated. I'm already writing outlines for the next arc.
