Ask Onderon Knock, Knock, Knocking on a Jedi's Door

[Arctus Friers]

"You thrum with the cloying scent of the Darkside, Arctus."

"He's not his father's son."

"You will either need to learn to handle it, hide it, or you will find yourself more and more danger."

"Some traveling robed man... a Jedi? Who knows!"

"More tragedy."

"No wonder her husband hated the kid."

"It can be a powerful tool however, if you know what to do with it. My friend."

The alarm blared loudly within the corners of his quarters, but it wasn't the reason that Arctus had been jolted awake. His breathing came out harsh and ragged, sweat making his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin. The last vestiges of his dreams, his nightmares, echoed in his mind still, the voices from the past and the present mingling and turning into a feeling he was intimately familiar with – something he wished he could just rip out of his chest so he could finally be rid of it.

But pain, sometimes, could be a good thing. A reminder that he was still alive, no matter how cruel and unnecessary it could be. And as much as he hated the recent revelation he had received about being a Force-sensitive – kark it all to high hell – Arctus was thrust in a position to deal with it, to live with something he didn't want to carry.

He pulled himself off of his bed with a loud groan – for once devoid of a woman's company. After that fateful meeting with Coven, the smuggler wanted to be alone. Visiting his family on Corellia had been too brief and too tense for his liking, the urge to ask his mother if the rumors he heard from his childood were all true rearing all their ugly heads. Was Dad right to hate him for not being a legitimate son? Was Arctus her son from another man, a wandering Jedi? Was his Dad's abuse justified? Did Arctus deserve the old man's hatred?

Did his confirmed Force-sensitivity the proof to all the gossips?

He stared at his reflection in the mirror when he reached the refresher. Maker, he looked like shit – and to be fair, he hadn't even been drinking yet. Arctus usually hit the bottle when he's particularly troubled, but for once he deemed it wise to skip on the alcohol and deal with his current dilemma like a proper man. He had given himself the self-appointed task to search for a Jedi who would be willing to teach him about the Force, after all. He couldn't just go out looking positively shit-faced while searching for space monks who could possibly beat him six ways to Sunday for being the irreverent bastard he was sure he would be under the influence of alcohol.

He needed to do this sober, Arctus reminded himself. He needed to be presentable. Vanity might be something he usually weaponized but he knew that being charming won't get him anywhere. Not this time. If he was to search for a Jedi, he needed to be honest with them and, by extension, himself.

The Dark Side had whispered at him back in Malastare. It even seduced him into believing and hanging on to Coven's words in Corellia, no matter how in denial he had initially been. And to live up to his own words that he left the Sith with, he wanted nothing of it. Wanted nothing of the power and freedom the Dark Side of the Force could give him. He wouldn't have any of it, if all it could even offer him was pain and destruction and death. The day he accepted it would be the day he broke the hearts of his family, severe the camaraderie he wished to forge with Mal and Ulysses, and spit on the helmet of the Mandalorian who saved his life two years ago.

He might have been inching ever closer within the Dark Side's grip because of his own vulnerability, but Arctus was determined not to fall prey to its clutches. It was for that reason that he needed a Jedi.

He needed the Light to keep the Darkness at bay.

No, hissed the Dark Side of the Force, a storm of negative emotions and hurtful words in his mind. Weakling, unworthy, you would dare defy this irresistible power that dances on the tips of your fingers? Pathetic, pathetic!

Yes, comforted the Light, kindness and comfort warming him with that single word.

A Jedi. I need to find one.

And Arctus was determined not to fail in this self-appointed task.

—·—
​

His quest had led him to Onderon.

Perhaps it was not a very smart move to follow his own instincts – the Force, he corrected himself for the nth time – when searching for a Jedi, but it was something he had always relied on for the majority of his life. It hadn't grievously failed him so far, so what's the harm in trusting it for this task?

Arctus though it best to stay away from urban areas, opting to land the Cyar'ika on the edge of a jungle forest instead. Dressed in a blue long-sleeved shirt, a pair of one of his decent-looking pants, and black combat boots, the smuggler stepped on the planet with a hopeful look on his face. He was armed, as usual, with his trusty pair of DL-18 Blaster Pistols, once again forgoing his favored blaster rifle and leaving it in the ship's weapons locker. His vibroknife was missing as well. For him to search for a Jedi so armed felt like he was walking into a disaster, so the pistols would have to do. Hey, he had to look out for himself, too.

The smuggler looked around, wondering what he should do next. He wasn't really familiar with how the Force worked... could he send a signal, a sign through the Force that he was here? If so, how?

"Didn't the Jedi meditate or something?" he muttered to himself, suddenly feeling silly that he had relied on nothing but his intuition instead of searching for information about the Jedi on the holonets like any person with a working brain cell would do. But the damage had already been done, and Arctus couldn't exactly berate himself for his mistake.

He had learned the hard way that it only made the dark, angry voices in his head to scream louder, to revel in his self-loathing.

Shrugging, Arctus found a decent spot in the middle of the clearing. He sat on the grass, slowly, trying to connect with the life surrounding him. The smuggler closed his eyes in concentration, hoping, willing, for anyone touched so strongly by the Light to come and save him from the Darkness that was steadily swallowing him whole.

Please find me. Find me and help me, please. For kriff's sakes just– I need your help.

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

Onderon was such an odd place to come to. Steeped in Jedi history, it wasn't unusual for there to be all sorts of artifacts surrounding the planet, nor other planets of its' ilk. But then again, to meet unusual people was also not a unique circumstance for the Jedi.

She had tasked Felix and Drastus to remain with the ship for now and practice unarmed dueling. It would occupy them for the time being, and with their competitive natures it was bound to be used to advantage. Still, she couldn't stray too long, but there was a feeling, something that lured from the depths of the jungle.

What was it with Jedi and jungles?

So she followed the subtle pull. There was something Dark about these woods... something that twinged in the back of her mind like a plucked string, luring her deeper in.

When she saw the male seated in the clearing, her shoulders relaxed... but only slightly.

A mellow voice would have broken his thoughts.

"That's either a lovely space to meditate or the perfect ambush location for local predators."

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

You're wasting your time, you damn idiot. What, you're honestly expecting that a Jedi will pop out of thin air to solve your problems for you?

Arctus remained seated on the ground, however, brows furrowed and eyes shut tight enough to hurt. He tried to dispel his own doubts but with little success. The clearing remained quiet, the complete lack of a Jedi's presence – as if you know how one's presence felt like – sending him further into hopelessness.

Perhaps Coven was right. Maybe Arctus was meant to follow after the Sith, that he should have just accepted the latter's offer of guidance and chose to join that dark Order instead. With that kind of power, he never would have to worry about things not working to his favor, that he could just take whatever he desired without much thought for–

No. It was hard enough that the Dark Side of the Force was something he'd first had a taste of, and to submit to it, to be one of the wretched who were blinded by power and pain?

No.

Already tense from his failed meditation, one of the smuggler's hands flew straight for one of his blasters when a voice not his own broke through his thoughts. Eyes snapping open, Arctus was glad that he had only drawn and not taken a shot at the woman who was standing ahead of him. He sat there, staring dumbly at her while making the perfect impression of a fish out of water.

Why... hadn't he felt her presence?

The Force remained quiet around him, the Dark Side resenting the woman – a Pantoran, if he was correct – and her overall presence in the clearing.

"Uh... I was..."

How eloquent.

Arctus cleared his throat, trying not to frown at himself, before meeting the woman's golden gaze.

"I came prepared, you know," he told her, making a show of twirling the blaster between his fingers and trying not to sound too spooked. Was he in too deep in his own thoughts that he failed to hear her approach? Why didn't the karking Force warn him that he wasn't alone in here?

"Not to be rude or anything, but, uh... are you lost?"

Probably not the best way to ask that one – who knew if she thought that he was some strange creep in a jungle trying to pick up pretty women?

In the back of his mind, the Darkness laughed gleefully at how he stumbled in trying to interact with the newcomer.

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

He was older than she was by a good few years. And yet something about the man made her want to draw in. Something about him seemed to hurt, yet she couldn't see anything different or harmed. Rather, he seemed uncomfortable for some reason. Was it because she appeared out of nowhere?

Hearing his words, she offered him a brief smile, and shook her head slightly. "Nope. But you seem a bit lost," she answered, taking a step in and showing her hands, so as not to spook him. "You alright? You seem a bit jumpy. Are you lost?" She would wait patiently for him to answer, hands settling on her hips, head cocked slightly.

Though truth be told, this wasn't the oddest meeting she'd had in the galaxy.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

At least she didn't seem to think that he was weird for pulling out a gun on a seemingly unarmed woman. Not that Arctus thought her equally weird for approaching an emotionally unstable man in a creepy jungle. He would have offered her a nice smile if it weren't for the hateful, sibilant voice of the Dark Side whispering bitterly in the back of his mind, telling him to go, leave, far from this wen–

The smuggler's grip on his blaster tightened momentarily before he holstered the weapon. He hauled himself up on his feet with a slight groan, wincing a little when his knees seemed to protest at the action. The way she slowly approached him, hands up and body language telling him that she meant no harm only made him feel more like a trapped animal. She had the right to be cautious – he did pull at blaster at her just now.

Her question shouldn't have thrown him off guard but it made him flinch nonetheless. Was he lost?

No, you have been shown the way to freedom and power, the path you so callously refused! Coward! Pathetic, weak-willed buffoon!

Arctus absent-mindedly lifted a hand to rub at his left ear, wincing as the voice grew louder than he would like. Louder than he was accustomed with.

Was he lost?

"In more ways than one," he blurted out before he could stop himself. And before he knew it, he was dumping his problems on a woman he had just met on this oddball jungle of a planet.

"I'm supposed to be searching for someone, you know. Something came up that involved my good self, no matter how much I hated being caught into something I know I shouldn't even be worrying about– something I shouldn't be carrying because I'm not sick or something–"

Maker, why was he talking about the Force as if it was a disease?

"–but it's something I just recently found out that I possess, and... and..."

Arctus knew he was close to rambling, and it tended to throw people off. He shut his mouth, teeth clanking hard. The smuggler ran a hand over his face in frustration, frowning at the cruel laughter that rang inside his mind.

You don't need her. You don't need the Jedi. You only need one thing and the rest of the galaxy will bow before your might!

Helplessness and mounting despair flashing in his hazel grey eyes, Arctus mirrored her stance and attempted a weak grin, voice cracking slightly when – for once going straight to the point – he said,

"I'm looking for a Jedi, actually."

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

Pain, torment, fear, frustration. Like a sour note in an orchestra, she could pick it out from the male before her. Golden eyes assessed him calmly, watching as he seemed to struggle, rubbing his ear as though someone were yelling in it. She would calmly wait while he talked, letting him speak, calmly waiting as he spoke. He seemed on edge, nervous.

And then he finally spat out what he needed.

She blinked once. Twice. It was so direct after his rambling, she had to process it, and then she gave a slight smile, head cocked to one side. The Force was ironic sometimes.

"What if you met one?" she asked him calmly, still smiling slightly, hands still on her hips. "Though yeah, if you're lost, one of them tends to show up." Humor crinkled at the corners of her eyes; a private joke. Slowly, she continued crossing the distance, eyeing him. "Forgive my manners. I'm Indy. And you are...?" She held out her hand, ungloved to him.

Giving him time, and space, to come to her at his comfort. In many ways, he was very much like an injured animal.

She would have to treat this calling with patience.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

Hope flashed in Arctus' eyes before he could remind himself that she was just asking a theoretical question. He watched her, the slight smile on her face and the mirth in her golden gaze indicative of some kind of a private joke he wasn't allowed to know. It would've annoyed him under normal circumstances, but nothing was normal in the current situation he was thrust into, right?

The smuggler stood his ground as she approached. He could understand the need for caution – at least that was what he could read from her. She was, after all, approaching an armed and jumpy man who could misread her intent and just shoot.

"Really?" he asked, taking her words literally and frowning lightly. "That's kinda suspicious, but nice. Really nice."

Distance closed, she offered him her name and her hand. Arctus searched her face, trying to find no deceit (why would she lie, it's highly unlikely) before his hazel grey eyes found her hand.

Don't take it, she's lying, she will kill you where you stand you have to do it first! Hurt her, make her bleed–

His hand was much larger compared to hers, and the moment his fingers came grasping cautiously the screaming stopped.

Surprise openly crossed his weary face, Arctus' gaze sweeping from her hand to her face.

"For– Forgive mine as well," he told her, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'm Arctus. Arctus Friers–"

The screaming returned, fighting and clawing their way against the Light that touched him. His grip on Indy's hand tightened enough to hurt, anger flashing in his eyes unheeded. Noticing the sudden strength in his grip, he would let her hand go as if he was burned before turning away, hands flying to his ears as if covering them could silence the violent din inside his head.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't–"

Smuggler! Thief! Weakling! Unworthy! The Jedi will not help! Can never help! The Light cannot save you now, boy!

"–didn't mean to hurt you," he finished lamely, eyes falling shut as the Dark Side and the voices thundered angrily inside his head. "If I meet one, though? One Jedi? That'd be– That would be swell." A groan slipped past his lips, hands pressing tighter against his ears.

Maker, what did he look like to her, he wondered. Some crazy, spice-addled bastard or something?

"A Jedi, yeah..." he muttered, face scrunched in pain and anger as the screams turned into delighted, twisted screeching. Snarling, he spat, "Where in the karking high hells are they when you need them the most?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

She sucked in a breath, hissing out at the sudden tight grip around her hand, hard enough to hurt, for her to grip her own wrist. Darkness, like a sickness, emanated from him, and her eyes widened, staring at the man as he rambled like a madman.

There wasn't time to react. He was someone sick, hurting. She didn't need to know all the details, but she simply reacted. Her hand throbbed, even moving it brought a wince, but she was still moving regardless.

His final question burst with fear. With pain, bitterness. A patient smile touched her lips. She rested her other hand on his back, a light, warm touch.

"There's a Jedi right here, young man."

Her voice was soft, patient, calm. Like an injured animal, he was lashing out, snapping. She wouldn't be surprised if he took a swing at her or even shot her. But she would treat him cautiously, carefully, even gently if she had to. Like all sentient beings she'd met, he deserved patience for the pain he was in.

"You've been hurting for so long," she stated calmly, watching his back, the tight muscles there. "You don't have to anymore. Tell me, Arctus. Tell me about you. How I can help."

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

The pained sound that slipped past Indy's lips had the voices crowing triumphantly, congratulating Arctus at finally doing what they'd ruthlessly demanded of him – albeit unconsciously. Unwillingly. He could feel her pain through the Force and instead of reveling in it like the Darkness wanted him to, it only made the smuggler feel nothing but disgust and self-loathing.

He wanted to put distance between them, the fear of lashing out and hurting her even more an existing possibility in his already chaotic thoughts. But his body refused to move, refused to cooperate to that one simple command his brain was dictating to his body. His stomach felt as if it was weighed with lead, and he fought hard to swallow the bile that rose to his throat.

The touch on his back was light and warm, soft and comforting all at once. Arctus' hands slid from his ears to cover his face, a sob that was filled with shame muffled by the palm of one hand. If there was one thing he hated most in the world it was showing his own vulnerability. He was aware of the state of his own mental health – growing up with a father who hated you for reasons unknown (no, not unknown anymore) and constantly beat you, as well as being surrounded and hounded by gossip inappropriate for a kid to hear did have their fair share of destroying a soft-hearted child's faith on the galaxy. It didn't help that he hadn't really communicated with his Mum about it, nor confronted the gossipmongers' seeming justification of his parents' break-up and his Dad's unjust beatings.

He knew that some poor kriffer out there had it worse than him. And it sickened him to compare his own hardships with other people, as if his was the most heartbreaking sob story the galaxy would ever know.

Arctus hated being so helplessly vulnerable, but he had gone without acknowledging his own pain for far too long that he could do nothing but let go – to let the kriffing galaxy know just how much the accumulated pain dragged him down in his lonesome.

It didn't help that the Dark Side was what touched him first even before finding out about his Force-sensitivity.

Two pairs of red-gold eyes flashed briefly in his mind's eye, and the urge to throw up was only tamped down by a particularly harsh gasp for air.

A Jedi? Here? Angrily, he let his hands fall to his sides, clenching into fists. His nails bit against his skin, and the smuggler used the pain to ground himself. Hopefully, at least, in an attempt to quell the need to just lash out and–

Yes, and killing her will be easy if you just. Let. Go.

Through gritted teeth, Arctus spat out one word once realization settled in. Indy was talking about herself, wasn't she? What did she say again about the Jedi –that they have the tendency to show up when some poor bloke was lost?

"You."

Yes! Hurt her, you don't need her! Kill her, Arctus, make it bloody! You've always wondered what color a Pantoran bleeds! Do it!!!

Yeah, he had been hurting. For so long. And who gave her the right to offer him her help?

You're looking for a Jedi. And now you're thinking that way?

He turned to face Indy, hazel grey eyes burning with uncharacteristic fury. Arctus would lift a hand to strike her, to make her feel even just a fraction of his pain–

"Trying to save your backside here, buddy."

–but the blow never came as the voice of his savior cut through the swirling maelstrom of hatred and rage the Dark Side was pumping through his veins and clouding his mind, a sliver of clarity and light that suddenly magnified the calmness Indy was projecting.

And then... Light. Silence. The Darkness shrinking, embittered, in the back of his mind – right where it belonged.

Arctus' hand stopped halfway from striking Indy, the ire in his eyes replaced with regret and guilt, guilt, always guilt–

The troubled smuggler briefly glimpsed a heavily tinted T-visor and grey beskar instead of the Jedi's kind, golden gaze and pretty face. Two years ago, a Mandalorian had come to his aid as he lay dying on the sands of Tatooine. She was the saving grace that came unasked, who sought nothing in return for saving his life save for one thing.

Stay alive.

Indy stood before him, a Jedi – the help he had been seeking for. Her words were not a command nor a request, but a plea of one who was intent on helping him put an end to his pain, so that he would not have to suffer from it any longer. He had searched for a Jedi to help and teach him how to keep the Darkness at bay, how to prevent himself from falling prey to the Dark Side of the Force itself.

Help was here. A Jedi. She was years younger than him, practically a younger sister – not some random woman he would casually flirt with then bed afterwards. And he had hurt her...

Suddenly, Arctus felt so undeserving of the kindness she was offering him.

He would pull her to him before he could realize what he was doing, one hand cupping the back of her head while his other arm wrapped around her shoulders in a gentle embrace. One apology after another came in a repetitive stream as he would his cheek carefully against the side of her head. Hazel grey eyes fell shut as tears poured down his cheeks – shame, guilt, regret, and hope mingling all at once.

"I'm sorry... so, so, sorry," he would whisper in a broken voice, his hold around her loose enough for her to create distance between them should she wish for it. "I'm so sorry, Indy. I didn't– Believe me, please, when I say I didn't want to hurt you. Never wanted to. But–"

Arctus let out a shuddering gasp, fighting the urge to tighten his hold even just a little in fear of hurting her again.

"There's– There's something terribly wrong with m-me. A Jedi... you're the only o-one who can help. The– The Force, I have it, and I've been told that I'm close to going Darkside... but I feel I'm already..."

He swallowed harshly, and while the tears couldn't stop he finally found no shame in their presence. Arctus let the tears fall, as much as they pleased.

"Please, there's so many v-voices inside, and they're nothing but– nothing but Dark and full of anger, and– and hate... I don't want to get swallowed whole by the Dark Side, Indy... not without putting up a fight... please, help me..."

Then, in a small voice,

"...I'm so scared."

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

When fury bit into the Force, she took a step back in surprise. The man from before, small, broken, suddenly seemed to lash out. She had a hand to her hip, just in case, her other hand raised as though to stop him from attacking her--

When he suddenly froze. She could see the furious haze subside, melt into regret again. Into grief. And suddenly she was wrapped up in a gentle hug, as a teary voice muffled into her hair, arms wrapped around her shoulders as tears and apologies fell on her shoulders. She stiffened at first, expecting an assault, but slowly relaxed, and then slowly, hesitantly, her arms wrapped around him as well.

A complete stranger. Someone who struggled to balance, who hurt and lashed out at help. It was a strange kind of day... yet she didn't want to walk away yet. Here he was, begging for her help, and she had made a point of the Jedi. One always helped while they could, with who they could, at any given moment.

"...It's alright." Her voice was warm, gentle. Patient. He was older than her, probably by a few odd years. Perhaps closer to Roland's age than her own; she couldn't treat him like Felix or Drastus. "I'm alright. Of course I'd help." She gave a light squeeze. The Darkness. The shame, regret, guilt. She could feel it and more, gnawing at him, eating away. Was this what it felt like as a Sith? Were they this out of control? No wonder they were so unstable...

But she focused on her new companion for now.

From within, he would feel it. A gentle calm, a soothing Light against the bitter, gnawing dark. She awkwardly patted him on the back, wincing at the twinge to her wrist. "You haven't given up. I can feel it within you, Arctus. There's a Light. A power. A calm. Breathe with me, and I'll help you find it again."

And with that, she took a deep, slow breath in, a slow breath out.

And it was true; within the frightened man held a glimmer of light. A bit of hope. She didn't know what happened to this stranger, or what made him feel so weighed down with hatred or despair, but she would help how she could. First by breathing in, breathing out, allowing him time to push whatever torment held him at bay. She would help with touch; the cool presence of the Light would touch over them both, gentle, warm, a place where he could talk without the torture of the growing dark at his ear.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

It was much easier to let himself go when he realized that he won't be judged for it, won't be laughed at for letting the negative emotions he'd bottled up for so long to finally be let loose. In the past, Arctus' outlets were limited to irrational bouts of anger (his fists meeting either duracrete, metal, or even someone else's face) and paralyzing fear (alone in his quarters, his mind and the voices and his intuition– the Force depriving him of sleep). The former was always welcomed with open arms, because it's easier to give in to rage than fear. It's easier to hurt someone else, to take satisfaction in seeing anyone who opposed him to feel the pain he felt – albeit physically.

But now, with a Jedi– an understanding soul?

Arctus' buried his tear-streaked face on Indy's shoulder, his body wracked with uncontrollable sobs as he pulled her in a little tighter. Her presence grounded him, the assurance that she would help him – willingly, at that – sent relief and hope in his heart.

To hear from her that there was Light within him, that even Indy herself could feel that he hadn't given up yet (because I don't want to, thank you, thank you I need to hear that, thank you) sent fresh tears anew.

The smuggler listened to the Jedi, nodding his head as he breathed with her. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Arctus tried to match her pace – deep, slow breaths. In and out. In and out.

One slow breath in.

He found the help he sought for. Indy was here, a Jedi, touched by the Light and showed him nothing but patience and understanding. He had inadvertently hurt her, yes, but she wasn't sending him away.

One slow breath out.

She wasn't afraid of him. Where others would see a troubled man – a mad man, even — she saw someone who was only trying to reach out for help. Someone who was hurting and was afraid. She wasn't asking for anything in return. Just the desire to help an unworthy man like him. And he was grateful for it, grateful for this meeting, and for her existence.

The sobs abated, the tears finally subsiding. Arctus kept Indy in his arms, finding comfort with hers around him – her patting his back awkwardly – and the gentle, kind warmth of the Light blocking the insidious voices trying to whisper at him again. He felt calm, peaceful, for the first time in a very long while. It was a gift he refused to part with.

"Thank you," he murmured, reluctantly pulling himself away. The smuggler kept Indy within reach, hands finding purchase on her shoulders. The smile he gave her was meek, shy – so unlike the wide and confident ones he would show the galaxy, a devil may care attitude he usually employed. A sniffle escaped him and he would chuckle weakly, finally letting her go and wiping his tears with the backs of his hands.

"Indy, I– thank you," Arctus told her, the sincerity in his subdued tone matching the gleam in his eyes. His gaze would find the hand he'd jnjured, a twinge of regret filling his chest anew. "I'm really sorry for what I did... I've hurt other people because they hurt me first, or because they're on ny way, but you..." He refrained from taking her hand, embarrassment making him flinch slightly. "You haven't done anything and yet I-I lashed out. I just..."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Now that he had cried as much as he could, exhaustion now made his shoulders slump. It was time to face his problems like a man and being vague wouldn't do them any good. She offered him the help he was searching for, and it's only fair that he would give her what she needed to know in return.

"I'm not a... good man, Indy. And ever since I've been to– to Malastare, the voices, the Darkness, they just seemed to grow out of control; out of my control. More so when I found out that I have the– the Force. Coven... the Sith who told me–"

Arctus swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, hard. He gestured vaguely towards his ship.

"Is it alright if we talk inside? I don't– I'm not gonna do anything bad, I swear. I just... I think you might want to sit down for this discussion."

Given that he had dropped the metaphorical bomb at the Sith's mention, maybe sitting down would actually be amenable to both of them.

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

She stood awkwardly as the man sobbed fresh tears into her shoulder, and not for the first time she thought the Force had a particularly wicked sense of humor. Her hand still throbbed, making her swallow slightly to keep the pain at bay. It was a reminder for patience, something fixable. This man, however, seemed to think it would be a swift fix for his mind; she would do the best she could, however.

The best anyone could do was listen.

But in his ship? Indecision flickered in yellow eyes as she glanced at the male, letting out a soft sigh.

"Sure. Just... no more crushing hands, okay?" she grinned, patting his shoulder lightly. "I have time."

However... the threat for harm and danger was still there. He was still a stranger, still someone fully capable of cruelty. She wouldn't hesitate to defend herself if necessary, but she'd never hesitate to help a young man in need of counsel. And from the tired look in his eyes, she supposed he had been fighting this battle a long time.

A friendly ear could possibly help.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

Arctus could feel Indy's apprehension to his request, see the indecision in her golden eyes when she glanced at him. He wouldn't blame her for feeling these things – he was a stranger, and one who had hurt her. The grin she gave him, coupled with a pat on his shoulder, did nothing to ease the fresh wave of guilt he felt. The smuggler simply nodded and, now a little reluctantly, gestured for her to follow him to his ship.

"I-I won't– No more." The look he gave her was sincere and apologetic, eyes solemn as he ducked his head. "I swear on my life, Indy. If I'll make you feel even more uncomfortable, please, you're free to act accordingly to... I don't know, knock me out? Leave? You're free to do any of those, Indy. I won't begrudge you for it."

With the flick of a button on the controller bracelet he wore on his left wrist, the ramp descended with a loud hiss. But instead of going up to enter the Cyar'ika, Arctus proceeded to sit at the foot of the ramp. Awkwardly, he patted the space to his right as an invitation for Indy to sit. The smuggler considered the caution she surely must be feeling and scooted away a little to give her more room should she accept the invitation. He would've invited her inside, but he respected her need to watch out for herself should he try to do anything funny.

He wouldn't, though. And he knew that there's no way his words would be more than enough to assure her, he needed to be able to show her by his actions as well.

Music could be heard faintly playing inside the freighter and Arctus' face turned red with embarrassment. It was an old song from his childhood, depicting either an emotionally troubled bloke or an alcoholic. In Arctus' case, he was both. Kind of fitting to be playing in the background, huh? Sometimes he was convinced that his playlist hated him.

"So, um..." he began awkwardly, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck gingerly. "As a Jedi, have you... have you faced a Sith before?"

Maybe it was best to start with that one. After all, it was from a Sith he had learned of his Force-sensitivity. And he wouldn't be surprised if the Golden-eyed Duo he'd seen back in Malastare were Darksiders as well. Hadn't the Force told him that the two were trouble? Hadn't he felt the Dark Side in that planet, the temptations and promises it whispered at him? Now that he had acknowledged the Force, the voices he couldn't understand back in Malastare now rang crystal clear in his memory.

The Darkness will free you, it told him. But from what?

"I think..." he muttered before audibly swallowing the lump in his throat. Arctus shook his head and corrected himself, "No, I feel–" he could do this, he could, this was the right time to face his problems like a man "I feel it, Indy. The Dark Side of the Force. It's come to claim me, I can feel it. I-I lashed out earlier because of it, because it kept on telling me to hate you, to hurt you. I'm not trying to make an excuse for causing you pain, believe me. I just–"

A sigh escaped him. "A Sith told me back in Corellia that I have the Force, and that I'm afflicted by the Darkness."

Arctus ran a hand wearily over his face. "This is why I've been looking for your kind... a Jedi. What I told you earlier, Indy, it's true. I don't want the power of the Dark Side, nor the freedom it offers me."

The word 'freedom' came out in a quiet snarl, as if the very thought disgusted the smuggler. It was clear that he didn't understand what that one word entailed should he choose (never!) to embrace the Dark Side of the Force. Freedom from his pain, his burdens?

He scoffed at the thought. For all he knew, no one was ever truly free, no matter the sense of the word served.

But he wanted out, he didn't want the Dark Side to claim him.

"That's why I've been looking for a Jedi," he admitted quietly. "I– I want to learn how to fight this darkness within me. I know... I know finding a Jedi wouldn't be an easy fix. I don't care how long it will take for me to learn, as long as there's someone willing to teach me. I..."

Determination now in his eyes, Arctus looked at Indy.

"I don't want to let the Dark Side claim me, not when I know that there's a way for me to learn how to fight it."

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

She followed him quietly, for a moment allowing him the space and time to gather his thoughts. In the meantime, she listened to the forest around them for danger; even on this planet, there were predators, creatures that lurked in the jungle unafraid to find their next prey. When he sat on the ramp, she smiled slightly, sitting down next to him, elbows on her knees and hands dangling. She listened with her head cocked slightly, processing everything. Letting him explain it further. What he said first made her cock an eyebrow.

"I can handle myself if I have to," she answered. A fond memory seemed to light her features, and she chuckled. "You're not the first person who wanted to take a swing at me at the first meeting either." Yellow eyes glimmered with humor, but at his question, the glint faded, and she sighed. Running a hand through her hair, she looked out into the jungle, lips pursed slightly.

"Not a Sith directly, no. But... I deal with artifacts. Light and Dark."

She hesitated, then ran a hand up her arm, a flash of tattoos visible. "Imagine an artifact, steeped in hate for thousands of years. A thing that can twist people into their worst nightmares, so filled with the Dark that it forgot how to be as it was. The Sith do that; the Darkness does it. It tries to twist you up in illusions of freedom when you're even more shackled. It's like a drug."

She glanced at him again, shifting slightly. "There's no freedom in the Dark Side. But being with the Jedi... that's not a light decision. I can counsel you first, and if you want to learn more from there... I'd be happy to offer my help."

She scooted closer. Lightly, carefully, she rested her hand over his, looking at his face.

"Again. I'm offering to help you any way I can."

So he met a Sith... and survived? More than that, the Sith insisted he had a Darkness inside. She took in a slow breath, considering her words carefully. "You know..."

She tilted her head slightly. "Everyone has some Darkness in them. But you've been through hell. You've felt much... probably seen the worst in people far too many times. Darkness preys on your worst fears, and gives a falsehood of power. It eats you alive.. but believing it has a hold on you isn't a part of reality."

Her hand squeezed lightly over his own, and she gave a peaceful smile. "The Force is alive. It binds us, connects us to all living things. Not many of us are gifted enough to use it. But here you are, and in the limitless chances of the galaxy we've met. Don't give yourself so little credit," she lightly nudged him with her shoulder. "You're a strong man, Arctus. I can help, but I can't save you alone. You have that strength, inside, and you can save yourself with me. I know it. And so long as you believe in that, and follow it... we can defeat that darkness together. Are you willing to learn?" She smiled patiently then released his hand to extend her other one, the same one he had injured before.

She was giving him faith, and the key to what he wanted. The rest of the work was on his own shoulders.

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

Perhaps there would come a day where the two of them would look back fondly on this first meeting, with him lashing out at her turning into light teasing at his expense. Arctus wouldn't hold it against Indy, never, and he was sure that he'd be able to laugh it off despite the embarrassment he was sure he'd be subjected into. He would share in her humor someday but with the event and his shame for having hurt her still fresh, the smuggler refrained from replying any further and dropped the matter for now.

But at least her answer gave him comfort. She was a Jedi, of course she could handle herself. The least he could do was to give her credit for her fighting skills despite never having seen it yet.

Arctus listened to her intently, gaze shifting from the tattoos on her arm and then to her face. Indy was a Jedi... who dealt with archeology? It was an interesting discovery, and as an outsider to her Order Arctus thought that the Jedi were just a group of magical space monks who did nothing but to advocate peace even on their free time. Meeting someone who pursued activities other than the typical advocacy was a surprise, to say the least. But who was Arctus to assume stuff about the Jedi, anyway?

The comparisons she made with her interests and the Sith was something the smuggler had managed to grasp easily. The illusions of freedom and the analogy with drugs? Once upon a time, it would've stung Arctus. Hard. But as a former spice addict he agreed with the comparison – he'd felt free and unburdened during the high, but when he eventually crashed the urge to take more of the addictive stuff to replicate the feeling was so fierce to the point that sometimes scared him. The Mando – his savior – really did open his eyes to see the harsh truth about his addiction and how it had almost gotten him killed.

Now the Dark Side wanted to take the place of his former addiction despite his refusal to give in. It was torture for someone who felt emotions too strongly, and prior to this fateful meeting Arctus always found himself cowering whenever the whispers began. The voices promised him power, in every sense of the word, and while it would surely have appealed to those with weak resolve he refused to accept. Frustration would cleave through his determination, however, and the Darkness turned to manipulate him.

He had been foolish to believe in the lies at first, and where did that leave him? Killing another sentient using his own mind, with an outstretched hand.

It was... horrible.

Arctus considered his options while he listened to Indy's advice. Her touch was warm, kind. It held patience, reassurance, and sincerity much like her words. The smuggler deeply appreciated her willingness to help someone like him, and he answered her smile with his own.

"You know... I never even considered becoming a Jedi, to be honest," he admitted, sincere. "You guys are all out here in the galaxy, fostering peace and stuff. That's not my gig – I'm a smuggler, I do things for my own benefit. And sometimes, those things go against whatever code you Jedi have for maintaining the peace and upholding justice. I ain't fit to be a Jedi, that much I know, and yet..."

He pursed his lips for a short moment, thinking, considering his own thoughts and the words he'd say next. For someone who acted so surely about himself to fool others into thinking that he'd had everything under control, Arctus had a few fears of his own much like the rest of the blokes in the galaxy. His family's safety and well-being. His savior's. His own. The eventuality that he'd succumb to the Darkness in his soul. Valid fears, they were, and now he must make a choice on how to deal with them. Would he run and take the easy path of just embracing the Dark Side without looking back? Or would he choose the difficult road ahead of him, of being a part of something bigger than his own concerns – something that he could use to help himself and others in the long run?

The light nudge she gave him made Arctus' smile widen a little. Indy's words gave him hope. How could she say such nice things to a stranger who hurt her?

Because she's a good person, unlike you.

He knew that. Out of all the beings who knew him, Arctus himself knew best what kind of a person he was. When he told Indy that he wasn't a good person, he wasn't lying. He'd stolen, manipulated, hurt, and killed other sentients. For years, those things sustained him, helped him support his Mum and younger brothers. Did those things for fun, as well. Did he feel guilt, regret? He'd be lying if he said no, and it also made him feel like a hypocrite for admitting to guilt and regret.

Being able to connect to the Force had changed his perspective about a lot of things. While he toed the line between black and white, enjoyed traipsing on grey for most of his life, the Force – in his own understanding (which wasn't really much, to be honest) – only gave him two options. There was no grey, only black and white. Light and Dark. Good and Evil.

And if he truly wanted Indy's help, he knew he must make a choice now.

Arctus closed his eyes, feeling the Light within him that she said he possessed. Yes, he did have strength in him. He'd made it this far in his search for her kind, turning away from the Darkness as it nipped at his heels and tempted him during this endeavor.

Did he want to learn how to defeat the Darkness that plagued him? Would he, for once, want to set himself straight for the sake of those he loved?

The simplicity of his response to his questions to himself struck him dumb, and for the first time in a long while Arctus had never felt so certain of his answer to a question directed at him.

Shifting in his seat to face Indy, Arctus took her injured hand in his, the touch light and gentle. Certain and caring. He would take the long and difficult path not just for his own sake but also for his family, and the savior he longed to meet once more. And for Indy as well.

"I'm willing to learn, Indy," he replied, determination he had never felt before clear in his hazel grey eyes. "Whatever I have to give up to do so. Whatever it takes. Help me save myself, Indy. I can't do this on my own. Please?"

Arctus gave her a smile, genuine and hopeful, and for the first time in his life he'd found himself surrendering to the will of something that was greater than all he'd ever known.

...and with the choice made, the Light inside of him burned a little brighter.

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

There was struggle, pain, frustration with himself. No doubt the galaxy had been keeping him down for so long, that willing to step above it was difficult. She nodded patiently at his statement of being a smuggler, head tilted thoughtfully. "No one expects you to give up your way of life," she spoke, a wry twitch of her lips a flash of dry humor. "The Jedi doesn't demand a monastic life; just a few guidelines to live by," she replied, but at his taking her hand she offered him a bright, sunny smile.

"Good! But..." she tugged on his hand, rising. "We're not going to be sitting around, taking sunshine. There's work to be done. Firstly. Tell me what started this. Explain why the Jedi, I'm curious." She didn't judge; in fact, more than anything, she could understand.

"I'll start; I didn't join because of the pay." Golden eyes glimmered with warmth, lips tilted into a grin. "I also did it for answers."

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

A few guidelines to live by, huh?

Arctus was sure he'd broken a hundred of those already over the course of the years, being mostly a criminal and all. He was sure putting himself under the guidance of a Jedi – and subsequently their Order – would end up with him adding said guidelines to his tally. He had been honest about not considering himself to be Jedi-material, but now?

If he could resemble a fraction of the kindness Indy was extending to him? Then maybe... maybe following those few guidelines wouldn't be so bad and constricting. And besides, hadn't she told him that he need not give up his way of life? He would have to adjust, more so if his life as a smuggler went against said Jedi guidelines. Arctus could do that. It would be difficult, but he would have to persevere – he must persevere if he wanted to set himself straight. He reminded himself that he wasn't doing this all for himself.

With the Darkness and the voices shut down by the Light for the time being, the real Arctus shone a little brighter. He returned Indy's smile with a boyish grin, getting up on his feet when she tugged on his hand.

"I expected that," he told her, still grinning. "Wouldn't wanna bore you with a classic sob story on our first meeting. Chicks don't dig that."

It would've been an attempt at flirting if Indy had been any other woman, and while this was indeed their first meeting Arctus was already seeing the female Jedi as a younger sister he never had. A peculiar thought to have towards someone he didn't fully know yet but with the absence of the Dark, the Force assured him that it was alright to think that way.

When she asked for an explanation, Arctus tipped his head to the side, brows furrowed thoughtfully. So she didn't join the Jedi Order for the pay but for answers... well that's one response they shared.

Why the Jedi, indeed...

"The obvious answer to that is because I don't want to go Dark Side," the smuggler said, looking pensive. "Admittedly, I know practically nothing about the Force – only that it's supposed to be this mysterious something that gave Jedi and Sith their powers. When Coven– When a Sith told me that I have it? I was... shocked. Devastated. I never wanted this, never–"

He cut the thought off. No point talking about the rumors regarding the truth behind his parentage. If his real Dad was indeed a Jedi, then maybe he could find the old bastard in their headquarters– temple?

"Why the Jedi? I want to learn about the Force... sure, I could just look whatever things were available up in the holonet, but where's the real learning in that? And– And if I didn't choose the Jedi, then that's it for me. You've–" Arctus swallowed the sudden lump in his throat "–you've seen how... unstable I was earlier. I still am, it won't go away with a simple wave of a hand. If I won't choose the Jedi, then it's obvious that I'd fall right into the Sith's hands. Finding out that I'm a Force-sensitive feels like I have to choose between black and white."

"So here I am, Indy, standing in front of a beautiful woman – telling her that I know I am a bad man, but I want to change so I'm choosing white."

Grin turning a little shyly now, Arctus lifted a hand to rub the back of his head gingerly. "Maker, I hope all that makes sense."

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

It was more than listening to the man talk, but the struggle, the fear plain as day in his eyes, the raw want for something more than giving in. She would give him the grace of listening, of letting him air out his thoughts, concerns, even hopes. Seeing the boyish grin and the playful looks, however, she also realized the man reminded her much of Hans somehow if only glimmers and glimpses. But he needed answers, he wanted control. She nodded once at his statement of choosing, and for a moment she stood there, hands on her hips as she hummed once, quietly.

"All I ask is for you to trust in me," she finally responded, giving the man a grin. "Not as a Jedi, nor as a Master. But as a friend. It makes sense for you to feel like it's black and white because..." she gave a slight shrug, "unfortunately, it can be that way. But there's so much more to the Force than black and white. In many ways... it's beautiful, and terrifying, powerful, and alluring. The Force is more than Jedi and Sith; there are millennia of people just like you and me, struggling to figure out our way, feeling lost, being found."

She rested a hand on his shoulder, golden eyes crinkling slightly with a grin. "Trust me. It will all balance out, if you do this, and be patient with yourself. Coruscant wasn't a city in a day, and a man like you doesn't change overnight. I believe in you."

@Forsythe Crowholde

 

[Arctus Friers]

As a smuggler, Arctus was not really big on simply giving his trust to other people when they asked for it. He was steeped in the criminal life that it was second nature to be skeptical towards those who asked for nothing in return for doing things that would benefit him either in the short or long run. Hearing Indy speak of trust would have sent alarm bells ringing in Arctus's mind but the situation was different. In an odd twist of fate he found it so easy to give her his undivided attention, to nod in confirmation at her words. She was willing to teach him, and wasn't it simply common courtesy to put his faith on her, to trust her so readily?

Hazel grey eyes met her golden gaze in earnest, listening intently as she talked about the Force. There was more to it than black and white? Perhaps he would be able to see it the way she did, or even more, once she started teaching him about it. A week ago Arctus had dreaded the thought of learning about the Force and how to use it, the sounds of snapping bones and a body hitting the ground playing on repeat in his mind. Would the Jedi teach him how to do more than just kill another being with a single thought and gesture? Would she teach him how to control and influence the mind of others?

The smuggler grinned sheepishly and guiltily at the thought. Well, those were more in line with the teachings of the Sith, weren't they? The Jedi were protectors of the peace – there was no way Indy would teach her the despicable acts he had inadvertently committed under the sway of the malevolent voices in his head. They happened in his time of weakness, and Arctus swore to himself that he would never be influenced again. He would learn how to find balance and control.

Indy asked for his trust, and Arctus would give her more than that. Warmth filled his chest when she expressed her belief in him, and her words echoed in his mind along with the voices of his mother and his savior.

He was a bad man, so why were all these kind women saying such kind words to him? What had he done in his past life to deserve having them be a part of this dumpster fire he called his life?

Arctus smiled back at Indy, warm and sincere and utterly hopeful, placing a hand on top of hers.

"I..."

He licked his suddenly dry lips, ducking his head momentarily before meeting her gaze once more. The smuggler gave the Jedi's hand on his shoulder a gentle squeeze, his voice filled with quiet determination when he spoke again. His own sincerity surprised him, if truth be told, and while it did not show in his tone the emotion was blatant in the way it shone in his eyes.

"I trust you, Indy."

He wanted to change, and she believed in him despite not knowing yet who he was personally. That would soon change while he learned under her tutelage, and if there was something Arctus could promise her in return in order to somehow repay her for her kindness and her faith in him?

He would change for the better – not just for himself, but for anyone who would need his help. Yes, it would not be easy nor would it happen overnight, but damn him if he did not try. He wanted this, and the least he could do was to give it his best shot or die trying.

@Killa Ree

 

[Indy Sati]

She gave a wide smile at his affirmation of trust, golden eyes crinkling at his words. He seemed like the type to throw his all into trying something, as well; no half-ass for Arctus. But if she delved too deep into the philosophical, he might get a little spooked. So she would do her best to help the smuggler through whatever journey he wanted to go on, even if the hardest paths were yet to come.

"Good. I'm honored to be trustworthy."

With that, she gave his shoulder one last warm squeeze before letting her hand drop, putting it on her hip to assess him calmly. "First, though, tell me what you learned from the Sith. Perhaps they had good intentions... I more so want to know what you know of the Living Force, so I won't make an ass of myself with assumptions later." A cheeky grin showed on her lips, a wry prod at herself, as though she had been guilty of assumptions in the past. A way to alleviate the heavy mood, but also to give him time to marshal his thoughts, without feeling like what he learned was biased.

It also couldn't hurt to know what the Sith were saying in the broad galactic sense. Misinformation was the bane of her archeologist existence.

@Forsythe Crowholde