Wearing Thin

[Bobbi]

Ava asks Sadhric to teach her. Sadhric points out everything she needs to know she has already, and Solomon finds himself in the conversation.

Sadhric:
"... is not that the Rigi do not sympathize, Chancellor Irishu. Please do me the courtesy of avoiding the suggestion! We stand with the people of the Giyau System. Their grievances mirror our grievances--"

Voices rose, some with ayes, and some in protest. The speaker had to shout to finish her statement:

"... It is unfortunately a question of resources that must dictate this body's priorities--”

The noise exploded.

"--and we of the Rigi have the greater numbers in need!"

They were out of their seats, were those diplomats, all seven hundred of them, trying to shout over each other, fists raised, pincers clacking, furious some of them, and some of them adding to the wall of sound with their shouts for order and friendship.

A few voices cut above the din.

One was that of Bylimar Outu, part by virtue of the fact that her Dovan voice came with an echoing, metallic edge at all times. Sadhric Tlin could pick her out from among the throatier din as she droned the words: "Knew we upon gathering that the discussion must turn to money." She, too, raised her voice to fight the chorus of shouts. "We have been friends and friends we must remain!"

"Hear Hawa! Hear Hawa!" someone else was yelling at the top of his lungs. The Mechanic did not know for sure, but given that it was Hawa Fodoko being referred to, the human with the impressive lungs was either Sidori Shan or Asuri Wen trying to get the spotlight on their boss.

Ah--there. Sadhric found the face among faces. This one was a pasty white vagueness stamped with a couple of pale eyes. Asuri Wen. The vagueness came through no fault in Sadhric's tech. Despite Wen's passion as he shouted for attention alongside hundreds of others, there was a claylike lack of distinction to his features.

Not far from Wen, Jask Tal Barisar was trying to be both above it all and louder than everyone else. To his left was Kalian Nura, who was managing the first part a bit better, cloaked in gold-edged indigo, wrapped in the traditional gown of her people, face dotted with black, and keeping her cool despite the fact that her mouth was moving with obvious purpose but no one could make out a single word she said.

From what he knew of them, Sadhric had some respect for Barisar and Nura, but with all the anger in that hall he didn't think that the things he admired them for--their dignity and intellect--were helping them very much. On the measure, to be heard in there right then, you had to either have the lung capacity of a bantha or a tendency to a level of rudeness that let you cut off your esteemed colleagues.

That was a cynical take, he knew. What was happening in there was a molten topic.

The voices overwhelmed.

Without even a click, they vanished.

Silence reigned.

Maxima Buffton's private training center was different after the quiet dropped back down into it like a shadow.

The holos that Sadhric had been watching had all vanished, too, so he was left in the cool, dim lighting, alone.

He reclined in one of the chairs around the rim of the main mat. The chair was not made for reclining and he shifted a little to get the corner of the backrest out of his spine.

This hall was sizable, and he'd seen it before. Then, Maxima Buffton had been in a session with Cassandra Day. That visit, Nikolaus Buffton had been in a seat very nearly opposite the one The Mechanic now occupied. Not now. In the quiet, Sadhric thought about that other grand hall--that one far greater than this, filled with hoverpods and holocams and so many people.

So many... but not really.

He could have been there. But as a strange kind of representative of Mandalore, he, in that particular room, would have been unwelcome given the agenda.

Listening from afar was more to his liking anyway. He couldn't take more of hearing respectable representatives roaring over each other right then, but later he'd review what happened anyway. He needed to know. Wanted to know. But it was still not high priority as far as he was concerned, among all the other things he wanted and needed.

They lingered on his mind, however. So he was there, dressed formally in copper and black as if he might have changed his mind and gone into the other hall, considering all those voices.

Ava:
She could hear them.

Seven hundred voices shouting in a thunderous boom all at once; and yet none of them said anything. Hood drawn, she stood outside the hall. A tiny dot of tan against the empty space around her, so small that the tailored robe still looked like it swallowed her whole. Ava was certain that if she reached out to touch the wall, she’d feel the vibration of their voices against the material. Motionless she stood there counting the seconds for order to return to the great conference just a few meters from where she stood.

It did not happen.

Eventually the Jedi turned away from the doors with sad disappointment.

She didn’t need to be in the room to know that nothing was being accomplished.

When Ava arrived to Hapes, she didn’t know this summit was being held. The work of the Force, perhaps, is what brought her here at the exact time as something so important was being held. But here she was. And a seat within that room was offered to her. An invitation to act as representative of the Jedi Order.

An invitation Ava respectfully declined. Although she had a place among the Order, or what was left from it, she was in no position to speak for it as a whole. It was not her place. It did not stop Maxima Buffton from graciously extending an ear com to allow Ava to listen in on the proceedings. A glint of silver hidden beneath her robe and hair – not that it did any good.

“—we of the Rigi have… numbers…need!”

“…upon gathering that the…. must turn to money.”

“…Here Hawa!”

So many voices over lapped. It was impossible for her to distinguish who said what. The noise, which was what the mass of voices had now become, so close to her ear was becoming unbearable. Still, she fought to hold onto the conversation as slender hands wrapped around the latch of a door.

Maxima Buffton’s private training center.

Her temporary use a kind gesture from the Hapan Queen. And now, Ava sought refuge there. As if it would quite the noise blasting in her ear.
The door shut behind her as she reached up to shut the device off and removed it from her ear. Oblivious to the man sitting across the room, Ava’s eyes closed as the sound of silence settled over her and quieted the rattling in her brain.

Her hands reached up to fold back the hood of the robe. Revealing honey brown hair smoothed and pooled beneath the collar of her garment. A soft breath of relief sighed through her lips as her head tilted towards the ceiling. Her eyes, a rich dark brown color with flicks of amber, opened then, staring at the white light of the room before leveling to take stock of the room.

A look unadorned surprise controlled her pretty features the moment she realized she wasn’t alone. Not just that she wasn’t alone. But who she was alone with.

She stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes and feet frozen to the floor. <E*

Sadhric:
"You would turn on the lights in my sanctuary."

The white lights flicked off on their own, restoring the room to its prior dim, so that the main illumination was once more only the stormy kind that streamed in through two extremely tall sets of windows on one side. Through those windows the boughs of a pair of fruit trees were most visible under the heavy sky, a good distance back from the security duraglas. Beyond those, the view was mainly of one curving side of a complex of palace offices.

"... but I was enjoying the dark."

Ava:
The stupor lasted a few seconds more before Ava shook herself free from its grasp. Her feet, suddenly discovering that they could move, stepped further into the room. Her boots made soft, almost soundless steps against the flooring.

"You -would- be sitting in the dark." She countered to his remark with the twinge of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Her eyes scanned him over, taking in the formal attire of copper and black before settling on his face.

"I didn't expect to see you." She spoke honestly.

Sadhric:
He hadn't moved, still half-lounging in one of the chairs, arms outstretched resting across the backs of the seats on either side along what was essentially a long bench around most of three sides of the room.

"You didn't expect to see anyone. You were retreating."

In the dim, his Lenses barely had a tint. His dark eyes were fully visible and locked on her.


Ava:
She admitted. "I was. The noise was starting to rattle my brain."

Her eyes drank him in.

"What are you doing here," A hand gently gestured to their dim surroundings; provided to them by windows. "sitting in the dark?"

Sadhric:
A low rumble of distant thunder rolled into the room through the windows, but the rain had not come yet.

Sadhric regarded her out of the corner of his eye for a moment before looking down. Apparently distracted, he flicked once at one of the sleek copper pleats that leant texture to his coat at the shoulder. "Thinking."

He cocked his head and said, "Now: talking, evidently."

Ava:

Somewhere, lighting sliced across the sky in a vibrant streak of hot white.

The storm was coming.

Ava watched the way he cocked his head as if trying to decipher a hidden language. “Evidently.” She replied with one more step into the room; now putting her slightly off the middle of the training room.

“You’re not at the conference?” The obvious was transformed into a question.

Sadhric:
The Mechanic spread his hands as if to say obviously not.

And for a breath it might have seemed like he'd leave it at that, but he laughed a little. "Practicing cowardice. A representative of Mandalore, in that room? I'm not sure I'd be able to talk my way out of that one." He arched a brow. "I'm not sure I'd be able to shoot my way out of that one. --But they're just warming up. Getting used to one another. Today they'll go at each other like they're snarling over who gets to drag off the one puny carcass. Tonight they'll share wine and war stories. Tomorrow they'll proceed as if they might all get a chance to speak and be heard. You watch."

Ava:
“I don’t think that would be the best course of action.” Ava smiled.

Silent feet took her the final steps across the room to sit at one of the chairs. Not any of ones on either side of him but one that was seated for observation around the mat. Her body turned in that seat, legs neatly pushed together beneath the shield of her robe with hands resting comfortably at her lap, to face him.

“There is an awful lot of noise coming from that room...” she began. "You believe that something will come from all that chaos?"

Sadhric:
"Oh, yes," he said easily, shrugging it off. "Creds will go around, resources promised. Never enough to unmake the scars, but maybe enough that next time those sentients find themselves in the same room, their tensions will be eased by a recent memory of mutual aid." He paused again, then added: "And Maxima's about to make out like a bandit."


Ava:
“You’ve seen something like this before?” Ava asked before narrowing in on the last part of his statement.

“Yes. She will.”


Sadhric”
He shrugged. "I remember the MDF. Before they nabbed me. ... After they nabbed me was more of a blur."

The look he gave her was wry only on the surface; pain swam underneath, banished low.

"What about you? I heard you got 'special access.' A bit different from what your stupid friend got."

Ava:
She spent enough time with Sadhric Tlin to understand that he was a man of many, many forms. Sometimes those vizards were flawless in design. An intricate masquerade that played its role perfectly. However, over time, Ava was beginning to see where the cracks fractured across that perfection. Tiny fissures where the pain beneath threatened to bleed out. But now wasn’t the time or the place to analyze cracked masks.

Only a fleeting look that she saw. And then those eyes glanced away; to the doors across the room for a momentary focal point.

She breathed out her response.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘special access’.” A pause. “What friend?”

Sadric:
Sadhric made a little gesture that didn't require him to move his arm from where it rested along the back of the adjacent seat. "Geraint."

Ava:
Her lips formed into a silent 'oh'.

And then, "It isn't nice to call people stupid."


Sadhric:
Sadhric just grunted, halfway amused, and eyed the slate-bellied sky beyond the windows.


Ava:
Silence fell over the space. From beyond the windows another roll of thunder filled the sky. It sounded louder. Closer.

"It's good to see you." She spoke quietly. "How have you been?"


Sadhric:
Another of those contained laughs rocked him slightly and hooked the corner of his mouth. He did not look at her. "I'm not sure. You? Any decisions made?"


Ava:
"Slowly reaching a conclusion, I believe." She answered, watching the way he reacted to the question.

"And the Mandalore? How are things now?"


Sadhric:
"Can't expect much change in a few months, can we?" Only after he answered did his eyes find her and then the window again.


Ava:
The sky, for all she knew, remained the same. So Ava didn't follow his gaze to the window and instead remained on him.

"No." She agreed. "But hopefully there is some progress - however small. Are they adjusting to you position as Mand’alor?"


Sadhric:
It was the same subdued laugh. The same small ha, barely a breath, more of a motion. "So you came in here, saw me, and decided to grill me."


Ava:
Ava could feel the redness touch her cheek. She glances away from him for a moment, now looking out at the windows.

"I didn't mean for it to come off as that." She apologized. "I was curious is all but we don't have to talk about it."

She breathed out her own subdued laughter. "This visit to Hapes isn't what I had in mind."


Sadhric:
Sadhric roused a little, finally pushing up, dragging his arms in, breathing in a deep breath as if he'd been still for a very long time. "No, I'm sorry," he said, brow furrowed. He waved it off. "Don't mind my mood. You have every right to be in here."


Ava:
"I think," she began once he finished speaking and adjusting his posture. Her features softened when she looked at him. "that given everything... you're entitled to be a little moody."


Sadhric:
"I'm just tired," he said, waving that off, too. Shaking his head. He sighed. "I don't like feeling tired. It pisses me off."


Ava:
Ava laughed softly. "Then take a nap."


Sadhric:
In spite of himself he grinned, feral and fading. "Yes. Excellent solution, Jedi Azalee. Why didn't I think of that."


Ava:
She watched him grin, ignoring the fleeting thought of whatever hostility might be hidden beneath that now fading moment. Either way, the grin was returned with a smile.

“I think you might have, at one point, and then ignored it so you could continue working.” She replied. And then, sobering up, Ava continued. “Seriously. The galaxy won’t implode if you came up for air once in a while.”


Sadhric:
"I don't think it's that kind of tired," he said slowly, his tone making it plain that, in fact, he was certain of it. He got up, sighed again, and reset everything about himself physically right then and there across the way. "Nevermind. What's your agenda here? If that's not too much like grilling you."


Ava:
“On that note, it’s a good thing I’ve ran into you.” She began, watching as he got up while she remained seated. “I came to discuss Maltez; to see if there’s been any headway about looking into claim on the hold Vikas had on his mind.”


Sadhric:
"To discuss that with Maxima?" he asked, looking serious and sharp very suddenly, squinting a little toward her. "Last word I had was simply that she okayed your intervention."


Ava:
“She did it but that didn’t mean others did. And it seems there’s too much political red tape right now for it to happen." She frowned. "It looks like my intentions have come to an indefinite stall.”


Sadhric:
"I find that difficult to believe," he said.

Turning away, he moved a few yards toward the towering windows at an easy, thoughtful pace. "Impossible, in fact. Where did you hear it?"



Ava:
“I don’t know. I heard it today from Maxima.” Her head turned. “It makes sense that most of the galaxy wouldn’t want to see the image of Maltez reformed. It’s easier to look at him as a villain in all of this than a marionette to Vikas.”


Sadhric:
The Mechanic stood blinking at the towering storm. The real black heart of it was further up the peninsula. The thunder that reached toward them was doing so across a vastness. In all the time he'd watched it moving across the sky, he'd only caught hints of a few flickers of lightning within.

His mouth twitched after a moment, and he said, "All right. Strange, but very well. Your reaction to this?"


Ava:
“A mixture of things.” She replied, watching as he watched the windows. Her eyes stayed on his form before glancing around the training room, taking stock of the room’s shape and layout.

“I’d hoped this would be a strong avenue to help those affected like Rin. Find out if there’s really truth to Maltez’s claims about being brainwashed.” The last part was spoken quietly. “Maybe even find more information on what happened to Eva.”

She paused. Her head shaking.

“I’m still going to try. I just need to leave this idea alone for a moment and think outside the box.”


Sadhric:
"Brainwashed? That's hardly what Maltez claimed," Sadhric said, pivoting back to her. "And Rin... He never suggested that what had been done to him was also done to her."


Ava:
“No.” Her head shook. “But she did speak about Vikas using her as a vessel to converse with Maltez and Zaal. Something like that might have left… some residue on her psyche; on her own individual imprint within the Force.”

And then, after a pause. “And you’re right. Brainwashed isn’t what he claimed. Influenced is a better word.”


Sadhric:
"That's not how I'd characterize it, either," Sadhric said flatly. "As for Ev-- As for Dr. Grey, while an interesting thought, I'm not sure how those things would be connected." He breathed in deep. The scent of the storm made it into the training center only after going through a secure set of filters. They ruined it, in his opinion. "Whatever the case... Maxima is the only permission you should need. I wonder who leaned on her. And how."


Ava:
“I don’t know if she changed her mind or if someone influenced her to change it.” Ava replied while coming to a stand, though not pacing as he’d done. Her arms folded across her small form, skin and hands hidden beneath the long sleeves of her robe. She could smell the scent of coming rain… but only slightly. It was distorted.

“However we would characterize it, this is where we’re at. I have hope that someday we might be able to return to this… but not right now.”


Sadhric:
As if he hadn't truly heard her, he muttered thoughtfully, "I wonder if he changed his mind," with his eyes tracing the invisible along the floor.


Ava:
Having heard the mutter, Ava replied. “It’s a possibility. He didn’t seem thrilled about the idea to begin with.”


Sadhric:
"I never understood what you wanted from it," Sadhric reminded her. "Knowledge--that I get. But I suppose my specialty would have to be a little different for me to fathom how you'd think you could trust it."


Ava:
“Maltez Buffton said that the decisions he made throughout this… it’s not really a ‘war,’ is it?” She digressed. “I mean, it was a war but… not like what we’ve seen in the past.”


Sadhric
"Oh? How not? Because it was quick? Sloppy? I'd say it was just the same, only the scale leapt before anyone was ready. And you know who to thank for that."
Ava:
“I don’t mean to diminish the horrors people went through and the devastation that it created.” The horror the people of Hapes experienced, the loss of her Jedi Temple, and its casualties came to mind.

Her shoulders shrugged. “It just felt… smaller.”


Sadhric:
"Did it?" The Mechanic, the Mand'alor, the once-High Magistrate, grunted. "Funny, that. When I've referred to it as 'the Little War,' it was with irony."


Ava:
"Perhaps it is a good name for what it was." She replied.


Sadhric:
"In what way 'smaller'?" he asked curiously. The wall of clouds moving past outside were visibly darkening. The storm pushing them was flickering just beyond, with more sharp-edged thunder as herald.


Ava:
"Time." She answered. "The Praetorian War lasted a few years."

Looking out at the approaching storm, Ava felt a strange crackling sensation across her arms. As if there were an itch budding beneath her skin.

She looked away from the window and to him. "What would you have called it if you were not shooting for irony?"


Sadhric:
"Stupid," Sadhric answered. "And this war Buffton started... just ask Sol. Ask your sister. It lasted years itself."


Ava:
She couldn’t argue the ‘stupid’.

“I guess ‘time’ isn’t a suitable answer. There’s a difference in the feel of both the Little War and the Praetoran War. Somehow, the ladder felt much larger despite everything that happened in the



"And what do you know of the 'ladder' of the Praetorian War? Are you comparing experience to...." His mouth tightened in a smile that wasn't quite a smile. "... legend?"


Ava:
“I have no experiences from the Pretorian War.” They both knew that answer. “But from how history describes it… how people who lived and fought talk about it…. it feels larger.”
Praetorian*


Sadhric:
"Yes. Don't do that. Mix your mediums without accounting for them. It's unwise." He shook his head.


Ava:
In another time, Ava would have apologized for the mistake. Instead, her head nodded.

“You’re right.”

She stared back at the glass, wondering what it would feel like if she pressed her hand against its smooth surface. Cool like the room in here? Or warm to match the brewing storm outside.

The conversation rounded back to before the digression. “Maltez claims that his actions were not his own. It deserves to be looked into. Maybe not now… but someday.”


Sadhric:
"I'm... not sure where you get that he claims his actions were not his own. That is not what he told me at all."


Ava:
“What did he tell you?”


Sadhric:
The Mechanic considered all the words that Maltez Buffton had cobbled together to tell him (without meaning to) that prison was the exact correct place for him without so much as an atomsbreadth of room for misinterpretation. "He told me that he allowed Vikas to improve him--'unlock his full potential' he seemed to quote her--so that he no longer had any regard for others. Only his own desires. In no measure does that suggest his actions were not his own."


Ava:
She nodded once.

She questioned after a moment. “How was she able to do something like that; what sort of ‘improvements’ did she make that unlocked ‘his full potential’?”


Sadhric:
"There are many conventional ways to suppress a human conscience," Sadhric said, shrugging. "I suppose... made significantly easier when it was compromised anyway. As to what she did in particular, I have no idea. Nothing physical was reflected in my Mapping. I doubt Maltez knows. Or cares. --I'm glad you're curious, but I do think in this case you're on a very slick hill."


Ava:
“I don’t disagree but it’s something worth looking into.” That is, should she ever get the opportunity to have a chance.

"However, for now, it looks like it will have to wait."


Sadhric:
"Good," he said. "Far be it from me to speak against someone actually taking the initiative, but with Maltez you are out of your league."


Ava:
Ava turned away from him, pulling her body into full view of the window. The storm was getting closer. This time, when lightening flashed the sky, it was a color of hot blue.

“Well… you can’t stay on the same playing field forever.”


Sadhric:
It made him laugh. "A thousand times agreed, Ava. But you would be wise to respect the differences between the one you're used to and the one you approach."


Ava:
“I won’t know the difference until I deal with both.” She said. “That would be like…” The corners of her lips tugged. “comparing experience to legend.”


Sadhric:
"What makes you think you haven't dealt with someone like Maltez?" he asked, making each word a distinct beat and not giving her the point.


Ava:
She didn't look at him. "I haven't. Someone close, maybe. But not like him."


Sadhric:
He smiled faintly. "We share a few mistakes, he and I," he said, shrugging, letting his tone be a good enough period. "Besides: I do seem to recall a comm call you had with the man while I was in BTC custody."

He'd already snarled at her about it. With all the things that could have gotten him killed, he had not been pleased to add her to the list.


Ava:
"Sharing a few mistakes does not make you like one another." Her shoulders rolled, the movement barely seen beneath the heavy layers of her cloak.

"I remember that call. I was reckless and it could have gotten you killed.... all the more reason for me to know how to deal with him or someone like him."


Sadhric:
"I am like Maltez," he said, watching her closely. "We understand the universe the same way. And you will not learn much by walking into a room with someone like us unarmed and unprepared."


Ava:
Now, she looked at him.

“Then teach me.”


Sadhric:
"Teach you," he repeated, balking a little.


Ava:
“Yes.” Her gaze held. “Teach me.”


Sadhric:
He seemed to draw back, and stand taller, like a rearing snake. "I do not take students."


Ava:
“You’ve done it before.”


Sadhric:
"It was a mistake before. Besides. I didn't set out to poison Solomon. You are asking me to either help poison you, or to tell you things you should already know, neither course being one I am willing to take."


Ava:
“Obviously, I don’t know.” She said. “Otherwise Maltez wouldn’t be out of my league. This is something I need to learn; I need to know how to do. You and I both know I’m lucky I didn’t get myself killed during this war because of it.”


Sadhric:
"These are--" Sadhric grit his teeth for just a second to cut that off. Breathed. Came at it again. "Ava. Why do you agree with me that he is out of your league? What is it that you felt when speaking with him? Did you know you were losing already? Whether it was face to face or over comms?"


Ava:
She caught the pause and restart of his sentence but pushed onward.

“And if that’s what it was?"


Sadhric:
Annoyed, he shook his head. "Ignore the phrasing if it bothers you. Answer the question."


Ava:
“It’s the truth. That comm conversation was over before it ever began. Every word I spoke played right into his hand. And, it would have happened again the last time he and I spoke. Sadhric,” She turned away from the window.

“There will be other Maltez Bufftons. Other people like him just waiting to crawl out of the woodwork. I am asking you to, please, teach me.”


Sadhric:
"You want to rope me to you." He growled it low, but was obviously still standing there, thinking it over, weighing out the request, thoughts flying across the tops of the motives and possibilities like a gull skimming waves. That is to say: he said those words, but didn't really believe them. Or only believed them in part. "There are no 'secrets' to learn. I could tell you in three points all someone like you needs to know."


Ava:
“You know that’s not true.” The urge to eye roll was heavily resisted.

“Then tell me those three points.”


Sadhric:
"Know the issue or issues. Know the person or people you'll be facing off with, and whoever influences them. And know what you think before you go into a situation full of people who will try to seduce you or change your mind, even if you allow that you could still be swayed by a genuinely reasonable argument. --Are these not elementary? That you should research first so that it is not your adversary left to inform you? It's an imperfect universe, but in principle being prepared is all you need. In your conversation with Maltez, you portrayed empty arrogance, and he spotted it from the moment you opened your mouth. You need help, you said. I can help you, you said. Now do all the things I wish. Assuming that he'd accepted your first premise, which of course he had not."

Ava:
“So how should I have gone in there?” She asked. “What would have been the better approach?”


Sadhric:
"Why comm him at all?" Sadhric countered.


Ava:
"Because I didn't know what else to do." She answered.


Sadhric:
Maxima Buffton's training center was removed from the milling traces of the diplomatic entourages that were clumped--mostly--closer to the conference hall across the grounds of the Palace. With the storm overhead, but the rain not yet come, the air was warm and thick and played havoc with the sometimes elaborate clothing and hair and fur styles. The Hapans seemed to love it for what it was, and they were not alone, but the closing thunder and towering black of the thunderheads seemed to cause a few of the delegations to take it as a personal affront.

In the grand hall, over seven hundred representatives were dealing with the bleak matter of mixing need and money, and the conference had only just started.

In the training center, all was quiet save for the lone conversation. Only rarely did the thunder rattle the tall windows that let the only light in the room, the stormlight, in from a single wall.

“I don't know what that means. At what point does that begin to seem like the only viable course of action?" The Mechanic wasn't far from Ava Azalee, both of them in the cool light, he lit from the side. He wore a formal coat of flat coppery pleats and black, and more black below, and Lenses that might as well have been absent for their lack of tinting.









Ava:
“We’d lost everything. The temple was gone. We had no way of knowing who was alive or captured. We lost nearly all the Jedi Masters. Cato. You. Grey. The Republic. Every ally we had was either captured or gone.”

Ava stood just a few steps away from the Mechanic. Her back was to the window, the soft color of cream and tan Jedi robes a sharp contrast to the darkened sky behind her. Every now and then bolts of lightning would illuminated the sky, casting away the shadows.

“I didn’t know what else to do. And we’d learned of Kara’s death… and Maltez’s reaction at her wake. We knew there was something strange on his mapping. I thought maybe he was being used by Vikas. That maybe…” it felt so foolish to say it now. “I could persuade him to change sides.”









Sol:
He hadn't realized how much the place still affected him. Having just visited a week or so ago, Solomon had come to feel a disquiet concerning The Fountain Palace. Memories had been stirred bringing a restlessness that settled in deep. He'd told himself, then, when he had left that he would not be coming back. After a week, though, of talking with Trinity over how the palace had made him feel, he was back. While she was seeing to delegates and her duty to the court, Solomon was revisiting places in his own time. The ghosts of a past that was too recent in its burn were nothing more than whisps on the wind, dispelled as he walked on. There were good ones, too, that came to mind and brought a faint smile to the former director of Nav-Sec, and every now and then a face he'd call familiar even if he couldn't recall the name. It was through reliving memories and his wandering that he came to stand outside the training room door, and a flick of his fingers against the pad brought him access to the room within. Here he had watched Trinity and Kara train. Here, when the door opened he found himself snapping back into reality and for just a breath recognition was a brick to the face. Solomon was dressed for polite company, primed and pressed for a day of life in court he was decked as formally as he dare go which toed up against the line of to the nines in black, and dark blue.









Sadhric:
"Out of nothing. Out of nowhere. With the man not even knowing your name." Sadhric made a sharp little cutting motion. "And was the Force with you, did you think? Or were you making yourself bait?" He shook his head--and then the doors pulled back and the grayed-out silhouette took his attention.

And he didn't even have to wait for the man there to step into the more certain light from the windows to know him by outline and posture. And maybe sense, too; who could say?









Ava:
Her attention wavered from the topic; the questions left unanswered. Ava’s head turned in the direction of the doors opening, her body tensing for a moment in surprise. That tension immediately ebbed. Like the Mechanic she knew who it was before he ever stepped into the light.

“Solomon?”









Sol:
There was a split second to respond, just one very small moment when the door had been halfway open and could have been shut again. But, as with all split seconds it was gone before he even knew it had been there. All he was left with was a step inside the room and a hand flicked out to the side, but he waited for that while looking at Sadhric and Ava, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."









Sadhric:
With the lights off, everything was illuminated in the not-quite-blue from the storm. Even now, the shadows were deepening as the bulk of the rain finally began to mist out what could be seen of the far end of the gardens.

For his own split second, Sadhric Tlin was still. A detached kind dread hovered somewhere nearby, born of experience of other times when the three of them had been in the same space together. But it was detached, just now, because he was agitated, and because he was agitated he said, "No, by all means, come in. Your timing is perfect. Jedi Azalee has asked me to train her to deal with the likes of Maltez Buffton. You can detail for her my credentials as an instructor in such things."









Ava:
A look to Solomon.

And then one to The Mechanic with all his agitation.

Finally, back to Solomon, Ava quietly nodded her head for him to join if he wanted.









Sol:
Ava's nod turned into a moment of study from Solomon, the bulk of his focus going to The Mechanic. There was an itch to his feet that told him the other way was the best to go in a situation like this, which was to get away as fast as he could before anything could get started. It wasn't any of his business, and it could stay that way. But Ava.... he hadn't seen her for a good bit. "There's no secret to it," Sol ventured, forcing one foot and then another as he stepped into the room, "Not really. Sadhric knows nothing that anyone else can't know, Ava. Particularly a Jedi." His words were careful and he was watchful, even with the light dimming from the storm outside.









Sadhric:
"There you have it," Sadhric said quietly.









Ava:
Solomon was on edge. She could see it long before he finally made the decision to walk into the room. There was something about him being around the Mechanic that did that to him. Whenever they were together, it changed the Tekal’s personality.

“Obviously, I am lacking in that department then.” She said as the conversation turned into more of a close-and-shut-case.









Sadhric:
"As I asked you before: Why do you think that is? You're armed with everything you need to know, and more. As Solomon said, on top of everything else you have a Jedi's training. You have a scholar's instinct--yet choose not to use it in moments of crisis. You have patience, but forget it. You can observe, yet do not. Honestly"--and here his tone changed, foretelling that it was, indeed, about to honest--"I don't understand how you could ever be at loose ends. The same with Sol. It should be nigh impossible, with all that you have in your favor. You are both bright, interest-filled, highly trained individuals. And yet you fall on your faces when someone like Buffton looks your way."









Ava:
“I know.” She agreed. “And I don’t know why.”









Sadhric:
"I just told you why. You have tools and don't use them."









Ava:
“I know.” She nodded. “What I mean was; I don’t know why I don’t use them.”









Sol:
"Fear," Solomon cut in quietly, "At least for me, and the many reasons anyone would have to be afraid. Its a little bit easier to surrender to fear than it is to face it." In the quiet of the room that was protected from the heavy rumblings of the storm outside, Solomon's shadowed self was shifting, his hands clasping before him, resting lightly at his front. "Its not quite so easy to remember if you are surrendering to fear."









Sadhric:
"I do recall teaching you about fear. I hope it was greater forces, and not me, that taught you to surrender to it." Sadhric sighed and shook his head.









Sol:
"No, it wasn't you" this directed toward Sadhric, "I was afraid before we even met. I was long gone, but I didn't know it."









Ava:
"Afraid of what?"









Sol:
"Everything," he stated with a shrug, "life, death, myself -- more specifically what I could do to other people, and others -- more specifically what they could do to me. Being hurt, left alone. Losing people I care about. Hurting others -- disappointing someone I care about...."









Sadhric:
The Mechanic made a little noise in his throat, backed off a step, and turned toward the windows. "There's a lot to fear. I'm not sure Ava's trouble is the same as yours, but if you are subject to that emotion, I think do think she is subject to others. Maybe many others."

Sol:
He stood still for a moment, just feeling out the room around him and the energy that the storm was bringing. It was a weird kind of balance, a sense of calm while still being active and full of movement. "What is it that you feel the most in situations with people like Maltez Buffton?" He asked, bringing himself out of repose and focusing on Ava.

Ava:
There was something about Solomon’s declaration of fear that triggered a memory from Ava. She heard a voice from a conversation held not too long ago saying; ‘People who wish to be Jedi who feel like… everyone else.’ Ava knew Solomon wasn’t a Jedi but at one time… he had been. At one time, he underwent the same training that she had while on his path to knighthood. The Mechanic’s comment, too, further laminated the thought.

Before she said anything about that, the conversation moved forward with a question. People like Maltez Buffton. There was only one man who she’d encountered who was like Maltez Buffton and that was Maltez Buffton.

Ava drew back to the only two times where she’d spoken to the man. One by holo and one by face. “It’s like… playing a game of dejarik.” She explained. “It’s knowing how everything moves and works but still being two steps behind before the game even begins.”


Sadhric:
"That's what you think," Sadhric said distantly. "He asked what you feel]/i]."


Ava:
“That is what I feel.” She replied, glancing at him. “With everything I know… everything that I prepare for… all my training… it feels like I’m already behind before the conversation has even started.”


Sadhric:
"You are. Because you either did not prepare, or you don't know why conversations with people work or don't work--or both." Sadhric growled internally at himself, but half-turned from the window just as the rain came in and tinted their view silver as it pattered and then rattled against the duraglas. "You went to him empty-handed that time. You claimed you had something to offer, rather whether he valued it or not, and then proceeded to make demands. Where was the trade? Some airy idea for solid concessions? No."


Ava:
She listened, and then spoke. “So, I should have waited to know for sure if what I had to offer was something he valued.”


Sadhric:
"Is it so esoteric a concept?"


Ava:
“No.”


Sol:
"Wait," he was stuck, looking between the two others in the room, digesting what he was hearing, "When did you call Maltez? -Why- did you call Maltez?"


Ava:
Ava looked over at Solomon. "After the sacking of the Temple."

Though, there was the strong idea that he might not have known the full details of that either considering his hands had been filled with other matters.

"I holoed him to see if a deal could be struck. If I could convince him to change sides."


Sol:
"Under what terms?" Not that the specifics really mattered. The war was over, but this was still news to him.

Ava:
"Freedom from Vikas in exchange for aid."


Sol:
A slide glance was passed toward The Mechanic, and the rain pelted duraglass window, passive and called on only by the flash of lightning as it hugged against the dark clouds overhead. "You knew for certain that Vikas was holding Maltez in check?"


Ava:
She watched the glance to Tlin, trying to analyze the unspoken words he might have been sending to his former teacher.

"There was evidence that suggested it but nothing concrete." Ava replied. "I took a gamble and failed."


Sadhric:
"That's just it." Sadhric's brows came together and he looked back at her. "That's the part I don't understand. Your gamble was a dizzying long shot. What did you think would happen? --Don't think I'm asking that to chastise you further. I want to know. I'd ask the same of Sol, and have. I do not understand why you two make some of the choices you make. Did you think that all the people who had trouble with Maltez to that point were merely fools? Or just unlucky?"


Ava:
"I didn't think." She replied. "At that moment, there was nothing left. No Jedi masters. No allies. Not even a safe space to hide from Zee. We were on the run with no ground to go to."

"So, I took the evidence I had and called Maltez. I did it because I didn't think there was another play to be had."


Sadhric:
"You were grieving?"


Ava:
"Not then. I was more in shock."


Sol:
"--It could have been a mix of both grief and shock by the way that sounds," Sol pointed out, "The sudden loss of familiar things, and faces that had been a source of guidance. You felt desperate for somewhere solid to stand?"


Ava:
"Its possible." She agreed. "Most of that time feels like a blur now."


Sadhric:
Sighing a little, Sadhric found himself studying the pair of them down his shoulder. They, on his right. A world of rain on his left.

"Not even The Force had been a comfort to you? I'm surprised. From the day I first met you, you seemed so devout in your faith. What changed?"


Ava:
Hearing the Mechanics sigh, Ava glanced over at him for a second before looking back at Solomon.

"That many deaths in such a violent manner... so quickly and so close... it left a void in the Force. One filled with the darkness."

Sol:
"But," he said kindly, "Isn't death a part of life? Isn't it a piece of The Force? That's what your code teaches you, right? 'There is no death'?"


Ava:
"It is." She replied. "The impact it had however.... was on a scale I'd never felt before." She fell silent for a moment, looking over at the Mechanic for just a second.

"I can show you, with the meld, if it would help you understand."


Sadhric:
The flinch was well-hidden. The 'meld' had not led to a good experience the last time Sadhric had been aware of it. But in the main, his thoughts were elsewhere right then, following different lines than mere old fear and frustration.


Sol:
"I don't need any help," Solomon's statement came with a shake of his head, "In understanding how something like that can feel so... utterly overwhelming. Calling Maltez, though.... I'm afraid I still don't see the sense in it. He could have said anything to lead you into a trap if Vikas really had been pulling the strings. Its not much help now, I know, to say that -- and I'm one to talk -- but if you want to learn how to handle people like Maltez, learn how to handle that desperation before trying to understand other people."


Ava:
That he was so quick to turn away from the meld left Ava to wonder if it was out of respect for The Mechanic, who everyone in that room knew did not have the best experience with. Or if it was his own personal withdrawal.

Ava didn't say anything that could have slated Solomon when he spoke. He knew of his own mistakes just as she knew the ones he now blaintly pointed out.

Her head nodded with agreement to what he said. "You're right."


Sadhric:
The flinch might have been unexpressed, but the little laugh got out. It was tiny. Just a breath through the nose.


Sol:
Solomon had avoided looking directly at Sadhric until that moment when he shot a very brief look The Mechanic's way, "You say that like its something you were already aware of," this said toward Ava, "So why did you ask Sadhric to help you if you already knew?"


Ava:
Solomons questions were ignored, momentarily, for the moment. He might not have been inclined to address the Mechanic but that didn't mean she wouldn't. "What is it?"


Sadhric:
Very quietly, Sadhric said, "Just realized something. It's nothing."


Ava:
Why ask Sadhric for help....

She watched the Mechaic when she spoke, "Because speaking to someone like Maltez is out of my league. I'd like to change that."


Sadhric:
To help her out a little, or to keep the topic from flying off to worlds uncharted, Sadhric very softly asked, "How do you envision such an apprenticeship? What form do you imagine such a thing would need to take in order to be effective?"


Ava:
"Much like we've been doing now." She replied.


Ava:
Gentle but still heard.

"Unless you had some other idea?" Which, thinking about it now, would have explained his immediate hostility towards the idea.


Sadhric:
"Not my job," Sadhric reminded her. "You're trying with me the same thing you tried with Maltez. You have a notion, then you try to sell it to someone else by making them do the work? I don't think so."


Ava:
She thought about what he said and then reviewed of what she said... and then relented.

"You're right."

Ava turned away from both Solomon and the Mechanic, now facing the windows. Her brows were furrowed in thought.


Sadhric:
With that turn away from them, given recent patterns Sadhric wondered if the conversation had not just ended. But she appeared to be weighing, not seething or sighing.


Sol:
"Ava," Solomon had gone quiet to listen once again, speaking up once Ava had turned toward the window, "I don't think you need Sadhric to show you how to do what you want to be able to do. I think its just a matter of keeping your mistakes in mind and not repeating them in the future. Keep things in prospective. There really is no big secret to it."


Ava:
No seething. And no sighing this time.

Just a moment to think about what was said and the reflection of her own actions.

When Solomon spoke, her head turned to listen to him before nodding.

"Perhaps you're correct."


Sadhric:
This was new. This tone.

"Another thing to consider," Sadhric said, as if that was a whole sentence, lobbed simply to draw their attention. "It may not be a bad thing, not being in Maltez's sphere. So long as the strengths you do possess are the ones you remember in times of need. You are, frankly, already quite cynical enough. Maybe too cynical, for what you seem to hope to be. Solomon, too." A nod toward Sol with that. "Cynicism is a language. If you can't speak it, and think that bars you from certain things, you may want to weigh the value of that from which you are barred."


Sol:
Lightning flashed outside the window, casting the room in its brief cold glow. The thunder was fading, leaving just the rain and noise in its wake. As Sadhric spoke, Sol looked The Mechanic's way, catching the other man's face in a shift of shadows due to the waning storm. "We likely wouldn't be missing very much by not being in the circle of someone like Maltez Buffton. There are other things in life that could be far more rewarding and a lot less dangerous." He agreed, turning then toward Ava.


Sadhric:
"Not exactly what I meant, but true enough in and of itself, I suppose."


Ava:
Cynical enough and yet still naive. It was a balance that she never could get proper footing on and one Ava wondered if she ever would.

She stepped back from the window, looking at both The Mechanic and Solomon.

Ava spoke softly. "It would be best that I work on other languages then, no? And remember my own strengths instead of relying on mimicking the strength others possess."


Sadhric:
"I don't claim to know what is best for you," Sadhric said evenly, watching her. "But I would always advocate for flexibility."


Ava:
"Sound advice." Her head nodded with just the small turn at the corners of her mouth.


Sadhric:
He nodded. "But you think I'm talking generally, and I'm still on topic."

He cocked his head and added: "... this is nice, though. You two, in the same room, without me having to step between you. Makes everything feel a touch less desperate."

Sol:
"Yes, it is," Solomon had to agree again, "I wasn't so sure something like this would happen."


Ava:
"I could say the same for you two." She replied with the slight nod to her head.

"I think it helps that there isn't a hivemind, a Sith Lord, and an Empire out to kill us."


Sadhric:
"I disagree," Sadhric said. "That made this much easier for me."


Ava:
She smiled, just a little. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Ava said in light gest.


Sol:
"Once again, I feel the need to agree with Sadhric. "


Sadhric:
The Mechanic flicked a measuring look at Sol, then regarded Ava again the same way. Back to assessing. After a second, he said: "You two have much in common."


Sol:
Solomon looked at Ava, but was speaking to Sadhric, "Why do you say that?"


Sadhric:
"You see no similarities?"


Sol:
"Sometimes, yes, but then I think I'm over analyzing everything and the similarities are gone." He looked back at Sadhric, and the fading flashes of light from the storm beyond the dura glass.


Sadhric:
Sadhric made a thoughtful little noise deep in his throat. "To answer your question, I said it because I was just thinking how nice it would be if I had people around in whom I could confide who stood a chance of offering something back that was worthwhile. And that is not possible with people lost in their emotional turmoil. --Mind again: I'm only answering your question."


Sol:
"Everyone has something they're lost in Sadhric, be it emotional or otherwise, even you. I do wonder, though, what you criteria for "worthwhile" is."


Ava:
Ava took a moment to look past snub in his words. She had caught it and felt the sharp sting of what they meant; of what he thought. One second to feel, to acknowledge what he said. One second and then it was over. She accessed his words with a different point of view, looking at what The Mechanic said as something else.

A prod to look at the bigger picture beyond themselves.

Her eyes flickered to Solomon as he asked his question, now waiting to see what the Mechanic had to answer with.


Sadhric:
"'Everyone.'" Sadhric breathed the word, nodding a little as if it was the form of the reply, rather than its heart, that he was responding to. And he muttered, "And look: I've done it again."


Ava:
Brows furrowed and her face drawn almost into a frown, Ava watched the Mechanic. He looked jaded and weathered by weight. She wondered what happened in the past three months since she’d last seen him.


“Perhaps it would help if you let people in.”


Sadhric:
Sadhric's head cocked like it was clockwork and he eyed her. "You know, I've heard that phrase before. It nearly never seems to mean anything. Just a cliche that gets thrown out when nothing more specific comes to mind."


Ava:
“Have you tried it?”


Sadhric:
"Tried what? 'Let people in.' What does that mean, exactly? Have I tried... baring my soul? Whatever that means? Have I tried... tossing outlines of my difficulties to the friendly few, so that they can lob platitudes at them?"


Ava:
“I think that if you gave people a chance to help, then maybe they’d actually be able to.” She replied. “But you have a tendency of ending a conversation before it ever starts.”


Sadhric:
"I think we have very different definitions of 'help,' and I certainly have attempted it. Quite often."


Sol:
"In your way," Solomon spoke up, "Yes, you have tried. There is no room for error in your attempts, though. There is no room for question asking, or exploration. Your way is either the response is immediate and clear, or its not. Black and white. You either get what you want, or you don't, and if you don't its immediately over and you move on. You walk away, and that's that."


Sadhric:
Sadhric eyed Solomon for a moment before he said, "What, exactly, are we talking about here?" His eyes had narrowed and his head cocked. "Hm?" A look at Ava. "Are you two caught on the word 'worthwhile'?"
"Maybe it was 'confide,'" he muttered thoughtfully, eyes down and moving as he processed.


Sol:
Sadhric held his focus, Solomon watching The Mechanic's eyes shift back and forth rapidly, "No words. Just time and experience. Things I'd like to see change, even if it seems doubtful that they will. What I'm talking about might be different than Ava, but there it is. Just time and experience."


Sadhric:
"You just said a lot of words that don't mean anything to me."


Sol:
"And what would hold meaning for you? Hm? What does someone like me, or Ava, have to do in order to gain your interest and understanding to be worthwhile enough to be that person you not just want to talk to, but -do- actually talk to? And here, again, its not the words. Its the experience. Everything that came from the past into now, the present. We've known each other -for years-, and it -still- comes down to moments like this."


Sadhric:
"I did not say it to hurt you, but I see that I have," Sadhric said with the slow dipping of tone that suggested he was easing back even though he did not move. "My original comment concerned how the two of you are alike, yet never seem to feel that you are on the same side, and now it has also become about me, and about the upheaval or--" He reconsidered, eyes narrowing again. "... discontent? Pain. That, too, I know."


Sol:
"The insult is forgiven. And Ava and I might not be as close as we once were, but I still consider her to be very much a friend of mine. Not close, not like you and I," He sent a look Ava's way, just to briefly assess how that was taken as he continued, "but she is most certainly not on the other side of that line. And neither are you. "
"It seems you feel otherwise."


Sadhric:
"No," Sadhric said carefully with a turning and tiny dip of his head on the word. "But different people have different skills, no?" All spoken very slowly. Having the both staring at him that way sparked a peculiar sensation.


Sol:
"Yes, they do." His agreement was outlined in a flash of silver light that came from the large window overlooking the palace garden. Outside the rain was still heavy


Sadhric:
"You would not think all physicians equally up to a task, merely because they share a degree and a willingness." The storm had The Mechanic from the side, half in its cool un-light, half in a dim near-shadow.


Sol
"Not unless they expressed an aptitude toward the task, no."


Sadhric:
"Naturally," Sadhric said with that same slow care. "Might you not feel angry with yourself if you had gone to physician after physician, even when you knew from the start you needed a specialist?"


Sol:
"There is no 'might' about it."


Sadhric:
"Perhaps you even berated a physician for not being the specialist you need--how irrational," he said, eyebrows lifting briefly with the thought, "but a product of frustration. Even fear. How does one apologize to such a physician? Should the physician even care? Perhaps best simply to move on."


Sol:
"Best for you, or the physician?"


Sadhric:
"Well, both, I should think. You still need your specialist, and the physician still has others around who they can help. You wouldn't want to be that annoying, sometimes dangerous, would-be patient who monopolizes the doctor's time, would you?"


Sol:
"Not unless at some point you would need the physician. But, no, if the physician can't help you with what you need right then, it would be best to find a specialist."


Sadhric:
Nodding very minutely, Sadhric said: "I bothered too many physicians."


Sol:
"Maybe," Sol responded quietly, "But there might be some physicians out there who need to be bothered."
"Or don't feel bothered at all."


Ava:
Ava watched, suddenly feeling more like an interloper than participant to the conversation. She thought about his earlier comment on spheres and how it now related to specialist and physicians.


Sadhric:
But Ava wasn't an interloper, and after a moment Sadhric was regarding her expectantly.


Sol:
With Sadhric turning his attention Ava's way, Sol's gaze followed suit.


Ava:
It was a corner that couldn't be backed out of.

"You either use the doctors you have on hand," she said. "Or you continue onwards in hopes of finding the specialist that you need."


Sadhric:
"If they're not qualified, they're not qualified," Sadhric said as gently as he could.


Ava:
"Its not a bad thing," Ava said as she took note of the gentleness in his voice. "Being a physician instead of the specialist. She watched the Mechaic. Though, I'd say that does make things harder for you."

Sol:
"He didn't say it was, Ava," Sol told the Jedi, "He said he needs someone a bit more skilled at the moment, that's all. Its not good, or bad. It just is."


Sadhric:
Trying to think of a better way to explain, or perhaps to go about the whole thing, Sadhric remained still and quiet. He could tell the line was near. What did that mean to him? Not the same thing that it meant when Solomon sensed it about to be crossed, and not the same thing when Ava sensed it. It did mean something, though.

Maybe there was another angle, though.

"I ask unfair things of my friends," he said. Dropped the 'physician' thing, as it had apparently satisfied nothing. "I know this. The unfair things that I ask are not like the unfair things that you ask. I have tried to avoid it since I realized. --And this may make it sound more noble than it is, this trying. I know that, too."


Ava:
Ava knew what it meant but had been keeping with the ‘specialist’/’physician’ analogy when she spoke. However, it looked like things shifted when The Mechanic started speaking. She said nothing, listening to what he was saying now.


Sol:
"These unfair things," Sol started, having waited a moment to Ava to respond. When she didn't, Sol picked up the near-silence, "I'd rather you ask them, and give the chance, than not ask them and let them remain in silence. Whether I am capable to handle them, or not, that's just how I feel about it."


Sadhric:
"But do you really prefer that? I seem to recall such situations, and I recall being in a position wherein I am left to enumerate areas in which you fall short, which in turn angers or saddens you, and leaves you with the impression that that is all I see, and potentially also with a blow to your self-esteem."


Sol:
"Unless it causes you pain, I do. I'd rather try and fail for you than not try at all. Or not be given the chance to try at all. The anger and sadness -- everything else -- its because I don't want you to feel that you have to do it all on your own."


Sadhric:
"It does cause me pain," Sadhric said, though here, too, the same word had different meanings when resounding in different ears. "I tried to explain this to Ava." A nod to her, and an awareness from long observation that she had a tendency to ponder too much in situations like this, to recede or retreat, becoming so passive as to feel disconnected from them. He did not equate that with impartiality, or with control of her emotions. "--and failed, I think. Words aren't really adequate, or I fight them too hard. I have a problem. It's a problem of power and politics, but it's not. It's really a problem of patterns, but not. Maybe really a problem of drive and blindness--but more than that. A problem of illness, or vision. Or genius. Or tragedy. Or wrong-headedness and malfunction. Or of being free, and free from limitation, but not those either. And all of them. Cato would know what to say. He can see without being subject, sometimes. And only sometimes. You, my student--and would-be student, seem always to be subject. You hear me talking, and you flinch. Your shirts catch on one prickle or another, and your energy goes to getting the fabric loose without tearing it. When your energy is better spent elsewhere. When you would be happier if it was."

Ava:
It was a tangent that she’d never seen him go through before; round and round in circles. There was one moment that came close to this; a moment that felt like a life time ago when in fact it’d only been a few years. Then, Ava knew what was going on and knew how to help. This time was different.

“You really are out of direction, aren’t you?” The words were quietly spoken.


Sol:
At Ava's soft words, Sol was looking her way. "Its complicated," He eased in, looking back toward Sadhric and catching the flash of light that came to the city from a rolling distance as the storm continued to move on with a questioning look. Had he gotten that right? It mattered less that that was what he thought Sadhric was trying to say, and more that it actually was what Sadhric was getting at.


Sadhric:
The Mechanic licked his lips in a reflex so human it might have looked out of place. "I wore out Rose Blackmoon. I think I've worn out Caedmon Cato. I don't really enjoy leaving wrung-out do-gooders in my wake." He tried out a word without any sound, then said: "... but I'm not sure I can do this alone. Without guidance. I'm working on it, but not sure." Pause. "I don't like the uncertainty."

No need to point out all the understatement.


Ava:
It wasn’t for her to say whether or not it was complicated. Ava hadn’t spoken to The Mechanic in over three months. The last time he hadn’t been like this. Beyond that….

… Ava didn’t know Rose Blackmoon. Nor did she know the circumstances that floated around Cato. Their relationship with the man wasn’t one she was familiar with or was it one she needed to know. And so she left that bit alone simply because it wasn’t her place to say.

“So.” She let the word hang for a second. “What’s going on that you’d need guidance for?”


Sadhric:
"Because you're going to help me." The sentence was all one note, a low, near-whispered monotone that wasn't full of doubt so much as empty of everything but computation and a little touch of weariness. "I'd like not to kill a lot of people," he said more like his normal self.


Sol:
Solomon didn't know Rose Blackmoon either, but he and Sadhric had talked a bit about the woman in the past. It had been enough for Solomon to know the what and why of what Sadhric had mentioned, even if only vaguely. And, he had been set to let Ava continue to follow the line she had set out for herself with her question, but then came Sadhric's statement and he found himself leaning into the peace of the room around them, "Which people?" Two specific groups of possible people came to mind right then, and one of them he had promised to wash his hands of, and he had held true to that.


Sadhric:
"Would you like the big answer, or the small one?" With an air of the resigned sardonic, Sadhric cocked his head. "You'll say both, but you mean the small one."


Sol:
"I wont say both," Sol shook his head, "because I have a hunch, and if its right I'll be no good to offer any sort of advice that direction. What's the small answer."


Sadhric:
"The Mandalorians, of course."


Sol:
Frack. He had been wrong in his guess, and it showed in the slack that took over his expression for a moment. It all just dropped, and then returned with the next breath. It was dangerous ground for him to talk about the Mandals because of how he felt about them. It could be wrong of him to give any advice because he was biased.


Ava:
Her eyes widened a fraction at The Mechanic’s answer. Not killing people, big or small, would be good; was the first and most obvious thing that came to mind. The second, hearing that he was talking about the Mandalorians, Ava immediately glanced over at Solomon. His history with the faction was well known and not a pleasant one.

And it seemed, given that The Mechanic was still looking for alternatives that didn’t end with slaughtering people that things were not going well.

She stepped back from both the men and took a seat in one of the chairs. Her legs tucked beneath her body with the robes folds covering the chairs edge.

“I can’t imagine being a Mandalorian right now.” She said. “I don’t know much about the culture but… I heard they were once a people of honor. They had a code and they stuck to it. It was what made them who they were. This war… they choose loyalty over honor. They followed Ker’dan Akir who stood with Celestia Vikas and Maltez Buffton and did unspeakable horrors. They shamed themselves and what they stood for.” Ava’s eyes flickered to where the Mechanic stood.

“And now you’re stuck leading a people who are dishonored and shamed. Possibly angry about you being Mandalor and who have the Hapans with weapons at the ready.”


Sadhric:
Sadhric's attention had been fairly even on both of them throughout that little jaunt into the topic. As Ava started talking, he did after she said the word honor linger on her, moved by none of her musings. Absolutely unmoved. "I don't care about them. They're hypocrites who fluff their violence with notions of 'honor' so that they can feel strong while butchering people for creds. They abduct children. They involve themselves in the hunts for criminals while being criminal themselves. If you like, I even think they're worse than Hutts. At least the Hutts are honest about their racist and bloodthirsty greed. Their desperation to survive and dominate that leads them to cross all lines and spit on those who adhere to them. But even that opinion doesn't come with rage or righteousness. I think many things about them, but I feel nothing."

He shrugged as easily as if the topic were the storm outside, and his look was cool and reptilian. Sadhric, at his most honest. "And don't think it's not in the mix that I put myself in this position. Of being 'stuck' leading them. I am not ignorant of my culpability in that. It is part and parcel of the dilemma."


Ava:
"I think you've given yourself an opportunity." She replied. "What you just described them as... Sadhric, you could change that. You're in the position where you have the power to change it; from the inside out if you wanted to."


Sol:
Solomon's reaction had been silence. He heard but wasn't listening. He'd forgiven Vikas, and Angel. He'd let go of his hatred for Maltez, even if he did think the man to be a Hutt. Everyone who'd crossed his path and hurt him and his family right down to the deepest of hurts he had faced over the years, every morsel of fear and anger had been let go of. He thought that it had until it came to the Mandals. Forgiveness was not so easy to give to them, or what they had done. Everything that Sadhric was saying, heard only through surface ears, was how Solomon was thinking right then. The difference was that Solomon felt something toward them. His voice carried a heavy gruff-ness to it when he found himself saying, "That wont happen over night, if it would happen at all."


Sadhric:
"See that?" Sadhric was talking to Ava, but nodding to Solomon. "That is why I don't 'let people in.' Things that do not poison me poison them. I bring the toxic with me. Even when I try not to. It was a lot easier to deal with these things during our 'Little War.' I could focus, and stay out of the nastier tracks, and when I lost my temper everyone understood. Now it's peacetime, and violence is no longer a handy smokescreen for inhuman actions.

"As for me being able to change things. I certainly know it. But I have other things I would rather be doing."


Sol:
"You didn't bring this with you," Solomon countered, cutting a hand through the air before him in a little motion that was made as if slicing the idea down, "You don't carry the blame for it, Sadhric." It was then that he was looking between Ava and Sadhric. The flash of rage he had felt was diminishing, sense winning out over emotion, and still after this there would be work to do. "Ker'dan would often times disappear to go on retreats," When he had started talking again his tone was less heavy, "No word of where, no word of when he'd return. He'd just go, and his people were left to do what they would do. I'm not saying this is the same situation, or even that I'd recommend it given how volitile things are with them right now, but short term it might work. For the long run," Sol shook his head, "I'd say to let the occupation continue into a complete dismantlement of their society. Let them be absorbed into other civilizations. Make it a full anex to Hapes, for example. That would give the Hapans leadership over the Mandals."


Sadhric:
"Mm. So, in short, you advise but do not necessarily recommend that I leave, based on a situation that you are not saying is the same."


Sol:
"I'm saying that if there is something you'd rather be doing, then you should do it. "


Sadric:
"Because all this hand-wringing is a waste of precious time, and something I myself would seethe about were someone else to mention it as relating to themselves." He eyed Solomon blandly.


Sol:
"Something like that."

Sadhric:
"Yes, well. Perhaps in that unspoken 'something' lives the useful advice you mean to give. As it is: what did I say to you when last we spoke?"


Sol:
Meaning to give, hoping to give, and yet not giving. "Don't worry about it. You’ll figure it out."


Sadhric:
So easy to let it go there. Just a nod would do it; didn't even need words. Under the circumstances, he tried not to let it slip completely away, though that would have been simpler. And, in his mind, more just. Less selfish. He said: "It is important that I figure it out. Important to me that it be figured out, and not just pushed away."


Ava:
Ava looked at the Mechanic. She saw him but not this version. The man she saw writhed upon the floor of the Witchdoctor. His body ridged as his face twisted and contorted with agony. She saw thirty one hours of him.

He was like that now but not.

Ava wasn't Cato. The constant drilled reminder was enough for her to know there was no advice she could give to him. Nothing she could say to sway him this way or that. And all she could do was think about those harrowing thirty one hours and see him as she saw him then.

"I think you know how to figure it out." She spoke finally from her chair. Not that he would, but that he already did. "But you're letting your head get in the way."


Sol/Hapans:
Ava's words brought to mind several memories that were pretty bad, and really intense. What happened to people in the situation that the Mandals had now found themselves in? Ava couldn't know. He'd never told her, nor did anyone know what happened with Jeryndi, or....cut off by the door to the room opening, Sol turned to see two armored Hapan guards enter into the room. By passing Ava and Sol, they were looking Sadhric's way, "Her majesty is ready to speak with you."


Sadhric:
The Mechanic slid Ava the same sidelong bland look he'd given Sol. "If this were a situation that could be balmed by general sentiment--"

For some reason he stopped and glanced at Solomon, expression inscrutable. The man stood there, fully self-contained, breathing smooth and silent. He was thinking something in another man's voice. Remembering a phrase that in turn called to mind yet another, dustier declaration in a woman's. It took only a flash to wonder what Solomon and Ava would think if they knew what was in his head.

Then the door to the training center opened. Sadhric had his boot on the throat of the room's security, and that of the adjacent areas as well, but he'd been distracted, so the arrival of his escorts surprised him. The smooth "Thank you," he said to them was automatic, and might have made it seem like he'd expected their timing after all.

He started to turn away from Ava in her seat, from Solomon where he stood, started to say something also automatic, but belated that and took a moment for a different kind of thought. Aware of the guards, he might have shrugged it all off as a loss. Instead, he decided: fuck it. What did he care what they heard? "There's solving the problem, and then there's attempting to get better at being a human being."

The Mechanic's face twisted with quick calculation. "I'm here until the conference takes its first communal adjournment. If you're still here before I leave, we might talk again."

He nodded to them both and did turn to go--not to follow the guards, but to lead.

Two days.


Sol:
He stood still, barely even breathing until the door shut and Sadhric was gone with the two guards before he moved. Hands unfolding, Sol pressed his palms against his eyes and hissed out that breath he had been holding in a long slow manner before sucking in another lung filling breath, "Nine hells, Ava," all the air in him went into those three words, "what's wrong with us?"

Ava:
"Us?" She looked away from where the Mechanic took his leave.

"There's nothing wrong with us, Solomon." Ava replied. "Why would you think that?"


Sol:
He dropped his hands away from his face, waving toward the door mid-motion, "We aren't doing him any good, and yet we -still- try, and have been trying."

"And will continue to try."

Ava:
"So why would you think there is something wrong with us? Because we are unable to provide the advice that he needs?"

Sol:
He moved toward where Ava sat and dropped down into a seat one down from where she sat, leaning forward so he could run his hands back through his hair, stopping at the base of his skull with his elbows on his knees. "Because we are as likely to hurt him as we are ourselves." His voice was deeper than normal, darkened by the forward roll of his shoulders, and his posture in general.


Ava:
Ava noted the way his posture changed; darkened in time with his voice. It was a contrast from how she usually saw him - which was a mix between a tightly wound coil and forced relaxation.

"What is it?" She found herself asking.


Sol:
Solomon dropped his hands, letting them rest at the inner side of his knees while he drew himself back and up through his shoulders, "Do you know why he's there? Why he took the title of Manda'lore?"


Ava:
"I do." She nodded. "You told me."


Sol:
"And did I ever tell you what he did to the B'naktu because of what they did to me?" These were quiet and careful questions. He lamented over not having the kind of security control that Sadhric always seemed to have. If he'd even thought this conversation would have been happening, Sol would have prepared better. He paused, and held up a hand while looking at the training room around them, still lit in the pale gray of the rainstorm outside, "I think, maybe, we should talk about this somewhere else."


Ava:
"Where would you feel more comfortable talking?"


Sol:
In one quick smooth motion Solomon was standing, his right hand extended toward her, sturdy and lacking any muscular tremors. "Come on."


Ava:
Lightly Ava took his hand as she unfolded her legs to stand. One last look went to the storm outside before she nodded. "Lead the way."


Sol:
Once Ava was on her feet Sol let go of her hand and made way for the door. His grip was stronger than it had been in the past. "How would you like to see my home?" That was asked with a slight look back Ava's way, "Those walls I can trust."


Ava:
"Your home it is then." She replied with a small nod.


Sol:
He reached the door and paused, something coming to mind through the blur of thoughts that had sprung up. "Unless -- this wont upset any plans you had for the day will it?"


Ava:
"No." Her head shook. "My business here at the palace is complete." And she saw no reason to join the conference filled with roaring diplomats; perhaps tomorrow when things had time to become civilized.


Sol:
"If you're sure..." he was flicking the door to the training room open and stepped out, waiting for Ava in the hall. Once she was with, he'd be asking, "Do you have your own transportation? Or would you need a ride? Its a bit far from where we are right now."


Ava:
"I have my ship." She spoke as they stepped into the hall. "I can take that. I don't want to trouble you with shuttling me back to the Palace."


Sol:
"Alright," here he gave her the location of his house, and some brief directions on how to get there. "There is a wide open area right next to the house with a few ships settled there. Pick a spot to land on next to those ships. Doesn't matter where, I own the land."


Ava:
"Any specific time I should arrive?"


Sol:
"No," he shook his head, "The kids are with some friends of Trin's for the day, and she's tied up with the conference. I'm heading out there directly from here, but whatever works for you -- I have nothing planned for the day."


Ava:
A nod. "Okay. I shall see you shortly then."