In the Shadow of the Phoenix

[Solaris]

Char knelt in the Celestial Phoenix's captain's quarters, dressed in a charcoal-grey high-collared shirt, a black tunic, light tan pants, and a pair of black leather boots. He wore his utility belt, his Jensaarai lightsaber clipped to it at the right hip. The port window was retracted all the way, showing the swirling, colorful chaos of hyperspace. Char had mostly finished renovating the quarters, removing Ba'alrac Havod's ostentatious decorations and furniture to replace them with a much sparser layout of a desk, a low table, and several cushions on the floor surrounding the table. The adjoining bedroom was similarly stripped-down, with little more in it than a cot and a night-stand. He wasn't quite done with it yet, but it would do for now.

Char's mind, however, was anywhere but his quarters. He had let go of his conscious self, letting his awareness expand through the Force. He could sense his crew-members, each of them shining like a beacon through the Force in the lifeless void of hyperspace. There were lesser lights, too, the tiny vermin impossible to keep out of ships for any length of time - and one brighter than the rest.

::Constance,:: Char sent through the Force, ::It's time to begin.::

 

[Nevermore]

Constance felt Char's voice slip into her head, an abrupt sound grating on her concentration. The girl's eyes languidly opened, green irises absorbing her surroundings. She periodically forgot she was in her new home, the Celestial Phoenix. After departing from Coruscant, a magnanimous grace had somehow lead her to the ex-Jedi. The whole reason she had wanted to leave Coruscant was because of her constricting aunt, Gracelyn. The Jedi Master was much too tentative about training Constance in her Force abilities, and she had realized the lackluster life she would live if she stayed.

On my way, she answered. Constance pushed herself to her feet, eyes fixated on her mother's weapon. She was hesitant to leave it behind, but today was not a day of combat training. It was a day of harnessing the Force, utilizing it to do your bidding. The only use Constance saw in the Force was its capability of manipulating and boosting your own physical capabilities, not to be a whimsical magician. Nonetheless she complied, leaving her most cherish possession in its tightly secured lock box.

The seven-and-a-half foot weapon was a bit oblong to tote around leisurely. While the Celestial Phoenix had ample room, not everyone was keen on her hauling it everywhere she went. Some were intrigued by the unique weapon, others were peeved by its size. Constance didn't care about those who were upset, and had no intentions on abandoning the weapon for any reason. She would sooner leave.

It wasn't long before she reached Char's quarters. Inhaling deeply, the durasteel doors hissed open automatically. She stepped inside the quarters, giving the ship captain a curt smile and a curtsy.

"Captain," she greeted him, a small tinge of jest in her voice.

 

[Solaris]

"Constance," Char acknowledged as he rose to his feet and turned to face the teenaged girl. He noted that she was relatively unarmed, having left behind that unique lightscythe of hers. Char had enough experience with Nasiri to know that just because a woman seemed harmless and unarmed didn't mean she was either. Still, it was hard to consider the tiny little slip of a blonde as a genuine threat.

Char had met the girl when she booked passage on the Phoenix to escape circumstances she hadn't been eager to discuss, and asked him to teach her the ways of the Force when she caught him practicing lightsaber katas. He smiled at the memory. It had been practically a demand. She'd asked him his background, and he barely got so far as 'excommunicate Jedi' before she seemed to have made up her mind that he was going to be her teacher whether he liked it or not. He took a deep breath, having only vague notions on how to instruct someone on how to use the Force - and knowing that this girl was, if not a dark-sider, was already close.

Quite familiarly close, actually. She reminded him of him when he was her age, had that same drive and same aggression, same hatred in her heart. He studied her intently, his blue eyes piercing and sharp. There was a hint of the wise Jedi Master about him, but something else - something hard, fierce, and unrelenting. They were monks; Char was a warrior. Where they feared the dark side, Char had charged into it headlong and come out the other side. Sometimes, that was what it took to value the light - and if need be, that was what he would show this wayward young Force-wielder. "What is the Force to you?"

 

[Nevermore]

Constance was sparsely expecting such an intrinsic question. The trainee stood her ground, hands held within one another behind her back. Her mind pondered the simple question, turning answers over in her head. She wasn't definitively sure if Char was expecting a candid answer, but he was certainly going to receive one. A couple more silent, idle seconds drifted by before the girl had formulated an answer she was comfortable with.

"It can be a lot of things, depending on how you use it," she began. "A way to avoid suspicion, manipulate your friends, eliminate your enemies." To some, especially the Jedi Order, Constance's responses would seem erratic and abhorrent. Her responses were meticulously cogitated though, and she had an ardent feeling in her stomach that Char wasn't like them. She could tell simply from peering into his eyes, and even observing the way he carried himself. Everything about him was atypical of an everyday Jedi, if he called himself that anymore.

"Regrettably," Constance began again, "the Jedi often fear using it in such a way. They don't want their pawns blurring the line between the 'dark side' and the 'light side,' but they forget that the Force is unified." Blasphemy. She could hear the bellows of protest ringing in her ears in spite of the fact they were alone.

"The Force is a very versatile tool to use at our beck and call," Constance began to finish, realizing that she had briefly strayed into a biased rant. "It's neither light nor dark, and depends entirely on how you use it."

 

[Solaris]

Char hooked his thumbs into his belt and nodded as she spoke, his stony face giving no indication of whether he approved or disapproved, agreed or disagreed. Her sentiments were not particularly startling to him; he had heard many Jedi saying very similar things. He could understand how she had arrived at that conclusion, given her willful temperament and native talent with the Force. He contemplated a moment, his face impassive and his presence obscured. Char was being careful not to interject his own opinions or thoughts into this; he wanted Constance's honesty, not her telling him what she thought he wanted to hear. "What are you to the Force, then?"

 

[Nevermore]

That was a divergent question. What is sentience to the Force, and the billions of people falling under the category? Constance had never contemplated such a possibility. The Force was metaphysical, omnipresent. No one knew if it was cognizant of the galaxy or its inhabitants, or if it had some sort of mellifluous voice and could speak. It was an enigmatic presence, or possibly an entity, that no one would ever truly and fully comprehend.

"I don't know," Constance answered honestly. She could feel a lump expanding within her esophagus. She wasn't ashamed to admit she didn't know, but it perturbed her for some reason. She hated to admit it, and wished that she did know.

"Perhaps if it wanted us to know, it would show us somehow." That was the best she could come up with.

 

[Solaris]

"That would require the Force be sentient and sapient," Char said, his tone carefully neutral and his expression just as opaque. He made an excellent pazaak-player - even against other Force-users. He was actually pleased with her response, as while it still showed her attitude and arrogance it also showed she was at least willing to admit she didn't know everything on the subject. The cup, so to speak, was not entirely full.

He made the mental note to ensure this girl never met Nasiri, noting how little Constance liked to admit being wrong. She reminded him of a younger, less confident Nasiri; the half-Zeltron would only be a bad influence on her, and Char would be thoroughly outgunned. "A living agency, one fully comprehensible by the Human mind." He shrugged. "Have you ever asked?"

 

[Nevermore]

The lump only compounded. Constance felt her heart embitter, and her mouth begin to go arid. A parched tongue made a futile attempt to moisten her lips, and teeth attacked her bottom lip. As her teeth eased their entrapment of her bottom lip, she was finally able to speak again.

"No," she answered weakly. Noticing the falter in her voice, the flustered girl cleared her throat. Her stance shifted, oscillating her weight between her feet for a few seconds. Constance finally surceased her movement, coming to a stationary position once again. Her reasoning for neglecting to ask was flippant, but it was her reason nonetheless. She would simply have to say it, and accept the consequences that came afterward.

"I never had the opportunity to," she conceded. "The reason for that is because I felt my Master was holding back on me. My impatience got the better of me, so I left," she finished. Constance had been overtly concerned with improving her fighting capabilities, and not so much about the Force itself. She wanted to be the fighter that her mother was. That was the only drive she felt, aside from the possibility of showing the Order they were wrong about their views of the Force.

"So here I am, perhaps not as well versed in the Jedi teachings as most would expect."

 

[Solaris]

The corner of Char's mouth twitched at the girl's response. Constance either expected a much harsher reaction from him, or - more likely - was being unduly harsh on herself. She didn't need to be such a perfectionist, but Char was at least wise enough to know that was a lesson best learned, and not taught. He felt a twinge of sympathy for her; the kid was going to have a hard time of life.

Char stepped back and gestured towards the window showing the roiling infinity of hyperspace. "Would you like the opportunity?"

 

[Nevermore]

Did she? Constance felt a conflictual war being waged between her mind and her heart. Her heart told her that she should, that she needed to, but her brain was telling her that such knowledge was superfluous. It was a pestiferous feeling, and the two needed to reach a compromise. It wasn't long before the internal conflict was assuaged—she would learn about the Force, but be most vigilant about using it to amplify her physical prowess.

"Yes," she answered honestly. Such a statement required no further elaboration.

"... please."

 

[Solaris]

"I'd be happy t' help, but I can only show you how - nothin' more." Char could sense a hint of the turmoil within the girl, though he was nowhere near the empath Nasiri was. He nodded towards the mats on the floor around the table. "Make yourself comfortable," he said. "I s'pose the Jedi taught ya how to meditate, right? Like as not skipped over the why of it. Meditatin' ain't an end in and of itself, not for us. It's the means t' the end of learnin' t' better use an' to serve th' Force by better attuning yourself to it.

"Th' trick to listenin' to the Force, y'see, is to remove yourself from the equation. To step back an' observe, not try an' look. Feel, not touch. Sense, but not seek." He smiled wryly and patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "I imagine that's a bit of a trick for ya. Don't stress it if'n it don't come easy - took me years to really learn how to do it. Only when you're in tune with it can ya really move it to your will."

 

[Nevermore]

Constance's lips curled up into a small, reassured smile. She did as she was beckoned, approaching the cushions set out on the floor. She assumed a traditional meditative position, taking in the words that Char spoke to her. Meditation was one of the basics that Gracelyn had covered while Constance was under her, but the girl was so absorbed in her desire to train that she sparsely paid attention, much less practice it.

"Yes, I learned how to meditate," she affirmed. "Admittedly, I didn't do it often. I've always been more inclined to action, not pacifism." Constance's eyes closed languidly, and she attempted to follow the instructions and advice that Char had given her. She attempted to clear her mind, and it wasn't long before the disorienting effect started to take hold. With a cleared conscious and closed eyes, a nostalgic feeling of sleep started to overwhelm her. She was unsure if this was a standardized reaction, but she felt oddly at peace. She paid attention to every little thing; her chest rising and falling with each breath, the flare of her nostrils, the soft touch of her skirt and fingers tickling her leg.

"This is... new."

 

[Solaris]

While Constance knelt down and started meditating, Char sat down beside her in the half-lotus. He closely but discretely observed her, making sure she did as she was supposed to do. It wouldn't have helped if she simply sat there bored.

"Meditation ain't about pacifism," Char replied, "no more than th' Jedi Code is, though I s'pose the New Order's taken that lesson a bit too much t' heart." He smiled wryly. So maybe he was going to let in a little of his own opinions at this point of the training. "It's about peace an' will. In a way, it's helpin' t' train your will an' your connection to the Force jus' like calisthenics trains your body an' readin' trains your mind. You're not just sittin' there, you're basically clearin' the transmissions in your head so's you can hear th' background noise - so to speak."

Char rose to his feet, a little unsteadily due to his foot having fallen asleep. He patted Constance on the shoulder. "Now I'mma clear the interference of m'self - I'll be in the machine shop. Come find me when ya like - the ship-mind'll tell ya how to find it."

Spoiler: OOC

After this Char's gonna start her some on alchemy.