Believe it or not, Aristheron was the one who got me into Disturbed (also David Draiman kind of sounds like the Sith Warrior male voice? Maybe I’m just imagining it). Aristheron’s music playlist is pretty all over the place, but the selections all add up to an uncompromising warrior whose indomitable prowess is only matched by his nobility of spirit, a dark knight who is yet a good person. I believe his new armour set is the Heavy Exoskeletal Warsuit. I managed to dig up my old screenshots from our playthrough together (back on my old laptop that couldn’t handle good graphics lol). He’s a handsome fellow, isn’t he?
His original theme was The Vengeful One, and his romance theme with Vany is The Light. At some point he acquired Wake the White Wolf, and he can also make use of Indestructible, Ten Thousand Against One (please to ignore terrible music video), and one more that I’m saving.
The chase scene in this chapter was written to Corpse Party: Unavoidable Tragedy (or Tradegy, as the video spells it >.>)
Part 24: Unnecessary Melodrama
Part 25: A Dying World
“Well, that’s dramatic,” Murlesson said. “Elaborate, please.”
“I tracked Kel Reu Giri to the Salvara system a few days ago,” Aristheron said. “It is a Republic-held system now, but up until the Treaty of Coruscant it was part of my family’s domain; I visited the planet of Salvara in my youth. I have no power there now, but I still consider it part of my responsibility and I will protect it against this false Jedi. Through Janelle I have requested that the Republic refuse him entry to any spaceport. It took some persuading, as he has some sway with the local government.”
“He could just mind-control enough people to leave,” Murlesson suggested. Boy, boy, why are you wasting time with your friends when there’s a Darth to kill? You do want to kill him before you die, don’t you?
“I think that is not his strong suit, but I will admit it’s a possibility. Still… I do not think he intends to leave yet.”
“But what’s the reason you need me? How is he ‘killing’ your world?”
“I can feel his actions through the Force,” Aristheron said. “He’s doing something, some sort of ritual, that is altering the balance of the entire world. The atmosphere roils with storms, wildfires rage out of control, the sea beats savagely at the shores, and the people are uneasy and unwell. I’m certain his ultimate goal was me, that he feels he has drawn me here, to kill me with this ritual, and he is willing to sacrifice the entire planet to do so. So I would call in my ally, who will not only be able to aid me in hunting him down and finally slaying him, but also in understanding and stopping his ritual.”
Murlesson took a moment to process that. “I suppose that really is more important that killing Thanaton. Is Salvara a terribly useful planet?” Perhaps you should go there and see if you can steal this knowledge. I for one would be curious about it. And I want to know how fallen Jedi fight in this age! It’s all futile, anyway…
“Irrelevant,” Aristheron said, which Murlesson took to mean ‘no’. He’d look it up later to find out for certain. “Will you come, then?”
“I suppose I will. Why not. It’s not like I’m fighting for my life against a pissed-off Darth or anything.”
Aristheron chuckled at the sarcasm. “When Giri is dead, I will support you in whatever manner I am able to.” Ha, what will he do? Strong but stupid, and far too trusting.
“Without upsetting the delicate balance of power on the Dark Council, of course.” It would be great if Aristheron could duel Thanaton for him, although… he’d be vulnerable to heart attacks. Unless Murlesson found a way to shield him, he was certain it was possible. But that was a fool’s hope to begin with – if Aristheron openly sided with Murlesson, it would reflect poorly on Darth Marr in Thanaton’s eyes.
Might it not be an issue that Murlesson was openly siding with Aristheron, or did that mean less or nothing to Thanaton and Darth Marr?
At least Darth Marr had let him have his new toys. “Shall I bring my fleet?” He was much too smug about the words ‘my fleet‘ but he’d earned it, a little bit, hadn’t he? “I’m here with Moff Pyron right now.” Pyron stood, ready to be of assistance, but he probably didn’t need him yet.
“Ah, so you took my recommendation,” Aristheron said. Faintly in the background, he heard Vany call ‘congratumalations!’ and had to smile faintly under his mask. “I offer my congratulations, as does Vany. Have you applied for formal recognition of your patronage?”
“Yes indeed, when Thanaton called to throw a hissy fit,” Murlesson grumbled. “I’ll head to Salvara tomorrow. Send me as much information as you possibly can as soon as you can.”
“Very well. I hope to see you soon. And no, I don’t require your fleet at the moment.”
“Goodbye, then.”
“Goodbye.”
He met with Aristheron nearly a week later, after having paused briefly at Axilla to join the Viper and the crew there. Xalek had been characteristically quiet, and offered no defence for his actions. Drellik had been cheerful in the knowledge of a job well-done, and Ashara had been very glad to be back. Now Zash was studying artefacts with Drellik and Ashara to assist; Xalek was studying his own material, hopefully, and Revel’s activities Murlesson neither knew nor cared about. Murlesson sent Pyron off, with instructions to keep track of the 43rd‘s and 58th‘s locations, not to go further than a day’s hyperspace jump away from Salvara, and to patrol for pirates – because the border was quiet right now, and there really wasn’t much they could do while remaining within a day’s travel. Pyron was happy to take the time to shake his fleet down and ensure that no discipline had been lost while power transferred. And Captain Kirtyne had transferred out, his replacement already on-station and showing no signs of trouble yet.
Murlesson itched to send them to do something more consequential, and having spent several days in discussion with Pyron, having a crash course in galactic strategy and finding out just what it was like to see for real what he’d only read about in holocrons, he wanted to go tease Thanaton’s other fleets, or begin manoeuvring his way to more influence in historically significant systems, or… But he’d given his word he would help Aristheron first, and he didn’t want to let them go too far yet. Just in case. Aristheron seemed to think this would be quick, but he didn’t believe that.
He met Aristheron on Miruta, Salvara’s second moon out of three, the one with such extensive colonization it was possible to walk for hours without finding the edge of the colony bubbles. Not that he had any need to go out there. He went to the Kollyrion’s docking bay by himself, leaving the others to their own devices.
Vany was waiting for him at the entrance to the hangar. “Heya, Murlesson! It’s been a while! It’s really good to see you again. Geez, you look kinda ill, are you all right? You’re walking funny.”
“I’m fine,” he said. Had she always talked this much, or was it just because she hadn’t seen him in a while? She is annoying. Silence her!
“I don’t believe that for a second, but anyway congrats on your fleet and stuff! You’re actually further ahead in the bureaucracy than Aris, can you believe it? I mean, not for long, the 23rd is really growing fast and Clay is a commodore-”
“Wasn’t he a captain the last time I saw him?” The… he barely remembered… strait-laced, almost dour dark-skinned officer, wasn’t it? A jump from captain to commodore seemed… fast.
“Ooh. Yeah, but he was on the verge of being promoted anyway when he transferred to Aris’s service. But anyway, if we pull this off, Aris can get him to admiral, and maybe Stroud will get to colonel – although that’s probably pushing it, and major is where he’s supposed to be…” A violence-loving man, as I recall – if your ally has any brains at all, he’ll keep him where he can do the most damage.
“I didn’t know you had a head for such things,” he said, looking down at her sauntering beside him with her hands tucked behind her head under her lekku. She looked very carefree for someone speculating about military promotions.
“Nah! I’m just repeating what Aris told me.”
“You call him ‘Aris’ now?” Seemed undignified. She truly is an insolent girl. Did she not use to be a slave? What is your ally thinking, allowing such scum to go free and speak her mind? Those ghosts had better shut up or he was going to give himself a concussion. Go ahead. Do it! It matters not to us.
“Yeah!” She giggled, and her aura flared with giddy happiness that distracted him from the moronic peanut gallery and even lifted his mood a little. “Aristheron Laskaris is a lovely name, but it’s pretty long, you know?”
“I am… very confused right now.”
“As long as you don’t shorten my name,” Aristheron himself said, standing at the top of the ramp, his muted aura strong and steady as always. He was wearing new half-robed armour, black and gold with red trim. “It is a privilege reserved only for Vany. It’s good to see you again, Murlesson.”
“People keep saying that,” Murlesson said. “But it’s better than the other things they keep saying. It’s… good to see you, too.” It really had been too long. He hadn’t realized how much he missed Aristheron. Weak.
“The other things?” Vany asked.
“Well, you know… ‘You again!? How dare you! You’ll pay for this!’ And so on and so forth.”
Vany laughed. “Aww, I’ll never say that. Except as a joke.” She wouldn’t have time, if you turned on her… she’d be too weak to survive more than one encounter. They were underestimating her, just a bit. Aristheron liked her for a reason. In fact, given how close they seemed at the moment…
But there were other things to attend to. Murlesson looked around at the Kollyrion’s empty common room. “I understand Commodore Clay is with your fleet, but where are the others of your crew?”
“Down on the planet,” Aristheron said. “Janelle is my liaison with the Republic officials, and Stroud is surveilling Giri’s whereabouts.”
“I see. Well… tell me everything.” He knew some things already, since Aristheron had updated him while he was en route, but better he begin at the beginning than risk leaving something out.
“Giri came here almost a fortnight ago, from the Voss system, and I followed a day or so later, leaving my fleet at Talcene. Upon determining that Giri was most definitely on this planet, I asked Janelle to request the ports be blockaded against Giri’s leaving. The Republic acquiesced; they are somewhat weak in number, and trusting of Jedi – I don’t believe they even reported it to the Jedi Council, judging from the reports that I know they have sent.” According to Murlesson’s own research, Salvara was not tactically significant, as he had guessed; its production was unimportant; the only reason it was in the Republic at all was a minor concession after the Treaty of Coruscant. Just another stop along the Perlimian Trade Route.
“The worrying part, is that we saw Sabran like two days after we got here, but we haven’t seen them since then,” Vany said. “We have seen Giri a few times, heading out or coming back from weird long random trips into the wilderness, but Janelle’s worried, it’s not like Sabran to be so secretive.”
“And… they… haven’t left the planet?” Why had this being chosen the most confusing pronouns in Basic? He really didn’t get the point. Were pronouns really important when they were all trying to kill each other? The pronouns were annoying. Sabran was annoying. It was annoying that Janelle would probably veto any attempts to kill them. Do it anyway, the galaxy won’t miss one more Jedi.
“Not that we know of!” Vany said. “I mean, they have blue hair, they’re hard to miss for a human!” She grinned and pointed at herself with both thumbs. “I’m harder to miss, I’m blue all over.”
“That you are. More to the point,” Aristheron continued, “Giri has been up to something. Janelle and I have noticed the tides of the Force shifting on the planet, and as for the effects, you can see for yourself.” He adjusted the holodisplay. “This is a true-colour image of the planet from a month ago.” He adjusted it again. “This is a true-colour image of the planet now. It’s gotten worse since I contacted you the first time, as you can imagine.”
Murlesson stared at the brown, cloudy sphere. It had once been blue and green and fairly normal for a carbon-based world with an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere. “I imagine it’s even more dramatic under other scans.”
“It is, and you can feel it in the Force. It’s all around you on the surface.”
“So what’s he been up to?” Murlesson demanded. “Where’s he going?”
“We don’t know,” Aristheron said. “In all this time, we have not been able to identify his destinations. We only have rough guesses.” He touched the display, and a number of yellow cross-hatched circles appeared over the diagram of the planet. “The computer has these estimates. What do you make of them?”
“Suspicious,” Murlesson said. “Most suspicious. Have you considered telling the Jedi and letting them deal with him? Surely they wouldn’t condone this.” Are you being lazy, boy? Oh, efficiency is a much better word to use… But if he tells the Jedi, he won’t be able to steal the ritual! But then maybe we would be able to kill Jedi again…
“They wouldn’t,” Aristheron said. “Janelle proposed that as well. But he is too dangerous to be left alive, and they will undoubtedly attempt to take him into custody and reform him rather than simply defeat him, and that would make the situation much too complicated. Perhaps I could ally with them temporarily in order to defeat him, but I would prefer not to involve them to begin with.”
“I guess that’s fair,” Murlesson said. “I’d like to not have to watch my back for overenthusiastic zealots, myself. I think I can puzzle this out. But it will take time.”
“Time I don’t intend to give him,” Aristheron said. “This is all irrelevant, really. Giri is basing his activity out of Heley City, in the southern hemisphere, and now that you’re here, I intend to strike tonight. Can you be ready?”
Murlesson lifted his head and looked at him with grim determination. “Yes.” If they could take him down tonight, he could be on his un-merry way and back to killing Thanaton with hardly a moment’s pause.
Aristheron stared at him in turn. “Are you certain? I was not sure before, but now I know – you are not well.”
“That’s what I said,” Vany said. Ha! They don’t know the half of it. Tell them, boy.
Murlesson brushed it off with a wave and turned away, feeling his body try to betray him with twinges and aches. His arm was mostly healed from his duel with Cressinth, at least, and the rest he just had to endure even as it steadily worsened. “I’ll be ready to fight and that’s all you need worry about.”
He felt Aristheron’s hand on his shoulder and flinched violently. “No. What has happened?”
He glared at him through the mask. “My quest to consume the power of Force-ghosts went well. Too well. I failed to kill Thanaton with it, and now the inmates are trying to run the asylum. Zash is researching a solution as we speak. That’s all.” Tell them the truth, it’s much more amusing and tragic. You’re dying, little snake! You have been since you took us in. And you can’t get us to leave. There’s no hope or help for you.
Aristheron’s hand fell away. “If you’re certain, then. And if there is anything I can do to help, you only need ask.” I sense their care for you is sincere. How extravagant. It will be fun to make them suffer through you.
“Maybe once she comes up with a bloody cure, I’ll be able to ask,” Murlesson grumbled. “In the meantime, I endure. Again. As usual. Stop fussing.”
“Then let’s go over the plan for tonight.”
The planet’s malaise was evident just dipping into the atmosphere; they all took passage separately to avoid making a big, suspicious-looking group, since what passed for normal in Imperial eyes looked completely disreputable by Republic standards – Drellik definitely had to change – and while customs looked askance at the young man with the mask that hid a terrible skin condition, it was… no big deal, really, there was nothing wrong with him, he seemed perfectly law abiding. Or so he told them silently, and so they believed. The mask probably saved him from the worst of the uneasy feeling that grew stronger the deeper they sank towards the planet’s surface.
They made their way semi-individually to an industrial zone in the east of the city. The time spent in the taxi speeder gave him ample opportunity to feel out this strange energy surrounding the planet, and what he felt disturbed him. This – whatever it was – was incredibly powerful, to be felt on a planetary level, even faintly as it was. It ought to have taken a team of Sith as strong as the Dark Council to manipulate, not one Jedi. And furthermore, it felt… there was something about it… But he couldn’t put his finger on it. That was going to annoy him to no end. Still, there was no question that Giri was somehow incredibly strong, much stronger than he had been before.
He and Ashara got out of the taxi speeder in the shadow of a large industrial building; the sun had just set and it was getting dark rapidly. He reached out for Xalek’s presence and found him nearby. This would be part of his training… though given the circumstances, it was more like obedience training than apprentice training. Whatever.
“Lord, you should stay behind,” Xalek said as he approached.
“Why?” Murlesson demanded harshly.
“You are weak. Your life will be in danger.”
“That’s why I’m here!” Ashara said.
Murlesson pointed at Xalek, hackles up, not in the mood to be cheerful. “There’s something you don’t seem to understand. Even sick as I am, younger than you as I am, I’m stronger than you. You’ll have a hard time without me.” Put them both in their place for being impertinent.
“…Yes, Lord.”
The plan was not terribly complicated; Stroud had found the hangar Giri returned to after his mysterious wilderness adventures, so Aristheron, Janelle, Murlesson, Xalek and Ashara were going to attempt to trap him there and force a confrontation. Vany, Stroud, Revel, and Drellik were ready to back-up the Force-users, but they were more vulnerable and less effective.
Janelle was sure to ask questions about Sabran’s whereabouts, and Murlesson was probably going to hang back to let the melee combat specialists do what they did best. Actually, with the ache in his bones and the migraine in his head and the strange new buzzing feeling in his chest from this planet’s distorted aura, he probably couldn’t fight Giri the way he had back on Alderaan, even though he’d been much less experienced and powerful then. He would really have to use his wits and his allies to be effective. We’ll help… if you can corner the Jedi without us. The power you craved so much… that you still can’t control… if it comes to it, we’ll strike. It will be amusing.
But first, they had to find him. He reached out, casting his mind in search of that implacable aura he remembered from Alderaan. Had he already arrived? Was he still a long way off?
There was something… on the periphery of his mind, and he closed his eyes and reached out his hand, hoping to increase his perception with a physical mnemonic.
His eyes snapped open. “He’s already there. Go!” They were late, or Giri had gotten back early. Oho, off to a bad start. Better be quick, boy!
They found and burst into the target hangar at the same time that Aristheron and Janelle did from the other side. There was no Jedi here, no Duros, and certainly no Duros Jedi, only startled-looking technicians and droids, and a ship still hissing with venting gases.
“Where did he go!?” cried Aristheron.
Without answer, Murlesson forced himself to run in the direction of another door. A technician ran to block him, nervous but ready to fight. “You can’t go back there! I’ll call security – Augh!”
Murlesson zapped him and flung him aside as Aristheron stormed past and kicked in the door. The other technicians yelled and began to band together. He didn’t care if they called security. Go ahead! Call them all! But they had other things to worry about – there was a great gaping hole in the back wall of the storeroom, the edges melted and glowing.
“After him!” Aristheron shouted, ducking through, and Murlesson hurled himself after. It was on the second story and he rolled as he hit the ground, the Force carrying him through. His toes jarred and he swallowed a grunt of agony.
The others followed after, but Aristheron had caught the scent and was running; Murlesson gritted his teeth and forced himself onwards. His body was still young and strong despite his condition, his legs were long; his muscles were technically capable of doing all he demanded of them, if he could get past the pain. “Stop holding me back!” Try harder. Slither faster! Oh, they were no help at all.
He glanced side to side around the industrial complex down the narrow alley intersections. If they could somehow get ahead of Giri, that would be ideal. Or could he slow Giri down with his power? If he could see him, he could block his path, make things more difficult for him. It was probably simplest to use a speeder. “Vany. Acquire a speeder and locate Giri. He’s escaped the hangar and is running. Pick up Janelle and try to slow him down. Janelle, get on a roof to make pick-up expedient.”
“Got it!” Vany said. Janelle grunted in acknowledgement and jumped Jedi-high to catch a fire escape ladder.
His pulse thudded in his ears, in his head, in his throat, as he followed Aristheron’s swift pace through the buildings. Giri’s sense floated elusively before them, weaving between alleys and junctions, never within sight. It was a few moments before he heard the whine of an incoming speeder; it paused briefly before throttling up again. It cruised low overhead, waggling a little as if Revel – who he could sense was driving – wanted to wave to them.
It disappeared around the next bend, and then he heard the engines flare unnaturally, heard a scrunch echo down the alleyways, heard more revving, and then blasterfire from Stroud’s heavy machine gun. A screech of metal on duracrete, and a crash; the firing stopped.
“Vany!” cried Aristheron, darting around the next corner; Murlesson followed. The speeder Vany and Revel had stolen was on its side, smoke drifting out from under the hood; Janelle had jumped clear and was running, chasing a hooded figure in the distance. Stroud was crawling out of the car, his machine gun twisted and sparking.
Murlesson gasped for air inside his mask, and made his decision quickly. Aristheron could see to Vany and the others if he wanted. He was following Janelle and the fleeing figure. Get him! Kill him!
He rounded the corner and found – Janelle, alone, looking confused. “Where did he go!?”
“I don’t know!” she cried frantically. “He vanished!”
“Into thin air!? Impossible. I’m not weak enough he’d blind me.” Your ego is delightfully large, if only moderately earned. But sure enough, Giri’s sense was melting away… “He must have a second escape route from here.” He hadn’t heard a speeder take off, hadn’t heard a door slide or slam… He closed his eyes, concentrating. “That building.”
“Let’s go!” Ashara said, having caught up with them. She kicked open the nearest door into the building. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but did a Duros run by or anything?”
“N-no?” exclaimed the startled Twi’lek worker inside.
“You lie,” Murlesson snarled, raising his hand. Punish his insolence! Make him scream!
Ashara grabbed his hand, forcing it down. “We really need to know, he’s kind of a terrorist. We’re trying to stop him.”
“I-I-I c-can’t! He’ll kill me-”
“This is taking too long,” Murlesson said, yanking his hand free with a twist. “Hurry up and tell us!” The Twi’lek screamed as he was electrocuted. “Your math is terrible! You tell us where he is, we kill him, you go alive. You keep quiet, you think he’s going to come back to save you from me!?”
“Murlesson!” Ashara snapped, at the same time Janelle cried “Stop it!” The two Jedi women edged closer together, a united front against him.
“I-I’ll t-t-tell you!” the poor Twi’lek whimpered, writhing on the floor. “P-please-!”
Murlesson stopped, but his hand was still out. “Well!? Are you waiting for an invitation!?”
“Down the hall- on the right- to the tunnel!”
“Tunnel,” Aristheron said, entering. “What tunnel?” Without waiting for answer, he ran down the hall. Janelle and Xalek went with him.
“Tunnel to the… the subway,” the worker gasped. “Old… disused… maintenance only…”
Murlesson took one last look at him, then followed Aristheron. “We’re not going to catch him now.” From the subway he could have jumped on a railcar to anywhere in the city. He swore harshly under his breath.
Aristheron, paused at the top of a flight of stairs, let out a low growling sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry. We had bad intel.” The sound of railcars echoed distantly through the stairwell; it was a busy line. No, there was no way. Giri was gone.
“We tried,” Janelle said. “And he won’t be able to do that again. Next time, we’ll get him- although, he probably won’t head out anymore. If he’s close to having what he wants, he’ll bide his time and make do with what he has rather than risk it.”
“And we still don’t know where his hide-out is, do we?”
“No,” Aristheron said, smoothing away the anger of failure under the calm control of nobility. He turned to make his way out of the building. “But with your aid, we can find him.”
Murlesson sighed, hiding his own feelings under a blanket of dour normalcy. “He ran from us. He cannot fight all of us.” The one bright part of the mission. “Or maybe he’s just not ready to fight all of us yet.”
“Unless it comes to knocking about speeders like gravballs,” growled Major Stroud as the Force-users rejoined the gunslingers. “I hated that.”
Murlesson hated everything, at the moment. “Back to Miruta Port?”
“No, we’ll stay on-planet,” Aristheron said.
Murlesson wasn’t. “Because I’m going to investigate his ritual tomorrow, and I’ll need my ship for that.”
Aristheron nodded. “Do as you will. I have rooms at the Vullitis Hotel downtown, if you care to acquire lodging for the night and go back in the morning.”
He was tired. “All right. …Thank you. Actually, I’ll take you up on that. Dinner?” They needed to discuss more things.
Aristheron nodded courteously. “It would be a pleasure.”
A murmur was coming from the alley where the wrecked speeder lay, and several humanoids in security outfits were looking nervously around the corner at them. “Excuse me, but would you happen to know anything about this?”
“No,” Murlesson said, lacing his words with the Force. “We’re not involved. Go away.”
The woman who had spoken nodded. “You’re not involved. We’ll go away.”
“Let’s leave,” Murlesson said to Aristheron. “There’s enough of them that they’ll get suspicious of us in a minute anyway.”
“I’ll see you later, then,” Aristheron said.
“I’ll be in touch,” Murlesson assured him, and they split up.
The speeder ride back downtown was awkward. There was no point in splitting up, now that Kel Reu Giri knew they were there. The Republic might guess, but he didn’t care about them. Ashara was glaring at him again; he felt her emotions flip-flopping as she tried to keep them under control. She was even more upset than he’d anticipated. Drellik fidgeted, Revel examined his blaster for dirt, and Xalek just stared. Murlesson kept his aura wrapped tightly around himself and ignored them all.
It was late, and he was too tired to go stand in lines at the spaceport, so he went to the hotel Aristheron had indicated, and booked rooms. Ashara booked her own room; she really was mad at him. It was… he was starting to feel bad. He couldn’t feel bad. He was a Sith Lord. What he’d done was minor and she was blowing it out of proportion. That person had been nobody – even mentally, he choked on the words. Ashara didn’t consider anyone ‘nobody’.
He couldn’t help but notice the people in the hotel, on the streets – fewer than seemed right for the capital of a planet, even an unimportant planet, and every one of them had hopeless eyes even if their mouths smiled and conversed. ‘Welcome to the club’, he thought. Did they know what was happening? Probably not at all. And they looked up at the sky in curiosity and fear, their hands on their hips, waiting for someone else to do something about it. He wondered if there was anyone on the Republic side actually doing anything about it. Or had they placed everything in Janelle’s hands, and by extension, in Aristheron’s?
Aristheron was waiting for him in the hotel’s restaurant, and Vany, too. They were sitting on the same side of a booth, and Murlesson fell into the seat across from them. Aristheron almost smiled to see him. “Ah, good to see you.”
“It’s just like old times! Again!” Vany said, who did actually smile. “Except you’re always wearing that spooky mask now. Why’s that?”
“It keeps the voices down,” he said, picking up the menu and scanning it rapidly. “It also gives me a little protection against whatever Giri’s doing to the Force.”
“But you’re going to eat, right?”
“Of course I’m going to eat, I’m hungry. I want the nerf steak.” He put the menu aside and slouched forward, resting his head on his arms. “And tired. Kriffing hells, I’m tired.”
“Murlesson,” Aristheron chided him.
“I don’t want to hear it today,” Murlesson said into his arms. Whether it was manners, or posture, or whatever. Ugh, Aristheron probably wouldn’t let him have alcohol, either. Was this what it was like to have a parent? Or at least an older sibling?
“I’m buying, by the way,” Aristheron said.
Murlesson lifted his head a fraction. “I got rich since we last hung out, by the way.”
“I was already rich. I’m still buying.”
He let his head slump back down. “Fine. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Aristheron said.
“So tell us about everything!” Vany demanded cheerfully. “I mean, if you’re feeling up to it. But you must have been through a lot since, uhhh, Zeltros, and we haven’t even properly talked since weeks before that, either! So – want to trade stories?”
“Not really,” Murlesson said. “But if you want to talk at me, I won’t stop you.”
His steak showed up then, and Vany’s chowder and Aristheron’s brualki veal too, and he half-heartedly sat up and took off his mask to eat. Vany was silent for a minute, and he knew it was because of his transformed appearance. He didn’t look at her, or Aristheron, just at his food.
“Fine,” he said, just as she was going to speak. “Otherwise your curiosity is going to drill right through me and it’s terribly annoying.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, stirring her chowder aimlessly. “I don’t want to pry.”
“It’s fine.” The steak was helping, at least, and after the first few slow bites he was having to hold himself back from inhaling the rest. He felt a measure of patience returning as his belly filled. “I should probably begin with Thanaton.”
They listened, and Vette began to grow more comfortable again as he grew more comfortable, and then she told him of their exploits; of destroying a tenacious pirate gang, of accidentally running into Republic forces more than once and having to carefully extricate themselves without causing an intergalactic incident, of hunting Kel Reu Giri, of their near misses and close calls on the chase.
At last, she said she was tired, and left with a smile and a wave. Aristheron watched her go, and Murlesson watched him.
“Your feelings for her-” he began, then stopped. It wasn’t any of his business.
“Are strong?” Aristheron finished the common expression. And to Murlesson’s surprise, he smiled. “Yes, they are. She is beautiful, and spirited, the most important person in the galaxy to me, and I would not see that spirit crushed by the galaxy.”
“Do you believe in love?” Murlesson asked slowly.
Aristheron tilted his head. “Yes. Do you not?”
“I don’t know,” Murlesson said. “I haven’t seen evidence of it yet.” He hesitated a moment, then rambled on, a little bitterly. “The characters in dramas are all made up, they have no free will; what they portray appears to me to be wishful thinking. I met an Alderaanian noblewoman who claimed to have loved a Jedi for twenty years so strongly she never married, yet he claimed before I killed him that he’d talked her out of it in an hour. The only person to ever have a relationship on my crew is Revel and he and his girlfriend didn’t really give a frak about each other beyond a passing… fondness and physical attraction. But then… sometimes I see… people… who trust each other, who would… sacrifice for each other. Like Moff Pyron for his family. And even when I’m around-” He stumbled to a stop, unsure what he was saying.
“Ashara?” Aristheron asked quietly.
“It’s not love,” he said firmly, pressing his palms against the table to stop his hands shaking. “It can’t be. She says she does but she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s because we’re male and female members of sexually dimorphic species, and she… thinks I’m witty sometimes. And I think she’s…” He couldn’t say any of the words he normally thought out loud. Glorious? Vibrant? Kind? When she wasn’t mad at him, and he still felt… something for her even when she was mad at him and he was so confused and he didn’t even know how to express his confusion.
“I don’t know if I can advise you,” Aristheron said. “I have much to learn, myself. Vany has requested that I not attempt to court her as I was taught was right and proper, and in the absence of that structure, those formalities… I have been lost.”
Murlesson gave him a pleading look. “But you surely know more than me simply by virtue of being older, having seen more of the galaxy.”
“She has taught me far more in a few standard months than I ever learned from the galaxy,” Aristheron said. “Have you considered asking Ashara to help you?”
Murlesson snorted. “She’s a Jedi. She doesn’t know anything about relationships, the Jedi never taught her anything useful.”
“You assume Vany knew much about relationships before she confessed her feelings to me.”
Murlesson hunched away. “Well… if she doesn’t break up with me in the near future… We fight a lot, and she’s angry about my actions today.”
“Hmm.” Aristheron thought, and happily for him, let go discussion on his actions. “What I can say about myself, and about Vany, is that if it is not love that we feel for each other, it can be, it will be with time. Love takes time to grow. It comes not with physical attraction, but with trust. And trust only comes with time, with labour, and with commitment.”
“What if I don’t trust anyone?” Murlesson asked in a low voice.
“Then it will be difficult for you to truly love,” Aristheron said. “I myself must be careful with Vany, that I do not abuse her trust in me. She taught me this quickly, though not in so many words, these things I had not considered before. That I must always be aware of that which, with anyone else, I would take for granted.”
“Like what?” Murlesson asked, bemused.
“As a Sith, and especially as a noble-born Sith, I have great power. She has neither of those – as she puts it, there is a vast power imbalance between us, that of age, gender, race, social status, and Force sensitivity. To Imperial society, she is nothing compared to me, but she is everything to me – and yet, taught by society, I might treat her as less simply by habit. Yet if I am truly to love her, I must treat her as an equal. So always, I must hold in mind her autonomy, and not seek to overrule it with mine, especially since that is one of the things I love about her. Even when I seek to protect her – she has had a difficult life, and if she would let me, I would remove her from all danger, all hardship, but… she chooses to be by my side instead, and I must let her. It has been… difficult, at times, for me to remember. I am fortunate that she is forgiving.”
“Huh.” It was not a way of thinking he’d thought of before, at least not from this angle – he’d always been the one without power, the one struggling to be treated as equal. He still felt Ashara had more power over him than he had over her, and yet what Aristheron said about Imperial society was very true.
“I would be her strength, her support, anything she needs,” Aristheron said quietly. “The galaxy is large and I would let her know she is not alone in it.”
Murlesson stared at him doubtfully. “That’s all very well and good for you, but the Dark Side is inherently selfish.”
Aristheron raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never been angry on another’s behalf? Never been afraid for them? Have you truly only ever fought for yourself and your own survival?”
He had thought he had; even when he fought for others, it was only so he could use them later. And yet- he grew attached; he fought harder for those he’d grown attached to. He defended them when he perceived them injured, he destroyed their enemies – to soothe his own ego, certainly, but for their benefit as well.
Hatred was the odd emotion out. Hatred was all his own, the selfish, venomous fuel that drove him onwards no matter what he felt for or about other people.
“If I might share my personal philosophies with you, perhaps it would help,” Aristheron said. “Draw strength from your anger, but do not let it blind you. Let desire give you purpose, but do not submit to indulgence. Have fear fuel your determination, but do not cower.”
It helped him understand Aristheron, but did it help him understand himself? “Control the Dark Side, don’t let it control you?”
“Indeed.”
Well that wasn’t new. “But-” Murlesson began, off on a different tack already, not even sure how to word it. “How far would you go? For Vany?”
“Anything worth fighting for is worth dying for,” Aristheron said. “Anyone worth fighting for is worth dying for. …If it came to a choice between living without her, and dying that the galaxy would not be less for her, I would choose the latter every time.”
He thought about that for a long time.
The first conclusion he came to was that Aristheron was clearly insane, clinging to a level of idealism the Jedi found difficult to attain. Nobody would actually sacrifice their life for someone else unless they were completely delusional.
The second was that even if he didn’t love Ashara to the same degree that Aristheron loved Vany, he could do a little better at making her happy. He could try.