For 'Aintnokid'

[orren]

Orren watches Dantooine shrink into the distance from the Ebon Hawk's cockpit until Carth and Bastila turn the ship away towards the endless expanse of open space. The stars stretch into star-lines and they jump to hyperspace in a flicker of pseudomotion, off to ... well, whatever comes next, really.

There's a part of him that still can't believe he's doing this - that he's following Revan on another crusade, but she's not Revan any more, is she? The council saw to that, and now ensuring everything doesn't spiral out of control all over again is on him. It's a responsibility that he didn't ask for and he doesn't want. It's more faith than he thinks should be put in him considering he couldn't steer Revan away from the dark side before. He didn't even know where things went wrong. He didn't know whether the war had broken Revan and twisted her good intentions, or whether Darth Revan had always been inside of her and the violence of the war had just brought it out of her.

Jedi Master or not ... he's afraid. He's afraid that he'll fail here like he failed at Malachor, and he doesn't know what to do to avoid the mistakes of the past. It shouldn't be him.

But it has to be him, doesn't it?

There's no one else who knows Revan the way that he does - at least not anymore. One of her old mentors perhaps, one of the handful that are still alive, but they aren't a voice of authority she'd still be able to look to as a peer. They wouldn't have known her and seen the transition. The only people who knew her every step of the way are himself, Alek, and Aria. But Alek's fallen - maybe even further than Revan - and Aria ... Aria's gone.

It has to be him. And while he's not sure that he can manage this, he definitely can't if he lets his worries paralyze him.

So, once they're in hyperspace, off to the first leg of their mission, he retreats to his quarters, sits down, and meditates. It takes effort, but eventually, one-by-one, he clears his fears from his mind. He breathes in, breathes out, and opens himself fully to the Force. He feels it coalesce around him. He feels the minds aboard the ship and the nervous tension and eager anticipation they all carry. He pushes past them, and past the violent storm that rages across the galaxy until all he hears and sees and feels is the gentle ebb and flow of life within the Force.

It's calm, and soon enough, so is he. But he is not alone.

"Can I help you?" He asks without opening his eyes, sensing the other standing in the door.

Comments

[orren]

Years of playing politics on Coruscant at Revan's behest has made Orren very good at reading people even without the extrasensory powers granted by the Force. He sees the icebreaker for what it is very quickly, but nonetheless, the corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smile. It's genuine, and, well ... food was an excellent choice.

"I was," He nods, "but that's quite alright. I've spent a lot of time meditating recently, and I feel like I've done what I need to do for the moment."

He's found his center. He may not have answers to any of his million questions yet, but he's in a far better place to start looking for them when it comes time to turn his attention that way. For now, though, getting to know his new shipmates getting something to eat doesn't sound like a half bad idea.

"And regardless of the lack of options, some food sounds brilliant." He smiles appreciatively, getting to his feet.

"I don't suppose you two need a hand?"

[aintnokid]

"Well yeah, how much meditating can a Jedi do anyways?" Mission raised her brows. A lot more actually, especially if Bastila had anything to say about it. Mission had always been curious, at one point she had even been half tempted to ask Revan to teach her.

Mission grinned. "Big Z has got it under control. He likes to cook I think. Just don't be too surprised if you find some fur in the food."

Zaalbar meant well, he couldn't really help it if he shed. And after their time on Taris, all the nights she had spent starving she'd take food with the odd stray Wookie hair any time.

[orren]

"Depends on the Jedi," Orren replies with a shrug. "And on the situation they find themselves in."

He's been doing a lot of it lately and he doesn't foresee that changing at any point in the near future.

As for the food ... well, Orren is trying to hide the fact that he's not overly excited about the idea of fishing Wookiee fur out of his dinner, but he still smiles graciously. He appreciates the offer and he's survived far worse than a few extant hairs in his food.

"I can understand that." He says, pausing a moment before adding, "The part about enjoying cooking, at least."