The Only Way Out

Evelyn Roslin

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OOC: Decided to give this a try again after RL stabilized a bit. Follows loosely from the thread "You Can't Always Get What You Want."

IC:

"Docking in five minutes, all passengers are required to disembark."

Evelyn blinked once, then twice, slowly coming out of the trance-like state that was as close to sleep as she'd been able to manage since escaping Coruscant. The decision she'd failed to make during those last few minutes on the planet continued to haunt her.

Her fiance's murderer at her feet, helpless; the Sith, goading her into action; anger coursing through her, anger that offered the open the door to something else, something Darker. She had a choice to make - until a falling piece of duracreet made the decision for her.

It turns out, a planet-wide battle doesn't pause while individuals try to figure out just who the hell they are.

The spell she'd been under broke in unison with the man's skull, as he became yet another piece of roadkill littering the streets. The next several hours were a blur. Evelyn was separated from the group of individuals who'd temporarily been brought together by the chaos; survival and the need to get the hell off-planet dominating everything else. Like the tides, the circumstances that brought them together receded again, leaving her where she'd started - alone, and staring at an entirely uncertain future.

"All passengers proceed to disembark."

The slim, athletic and frazzled-looking brunette reached down for a moment, automatically looking for her things, before remembering that she didn't have any. A few credits in her pocket and the clothes on her back - there hadn't exactly been time to grab anything more when the explosions started. Evelyn inhaled, and exhaled slowly, as she joined the cluster of beings at the main doors as a the crisp voice came over the ship's intercom once more.

"Welcome to Ord Mantell."

Ord Mantell. The young woman knew precious little about the planet, but her fear at being so rapidly and unexpectedly displaced, the pain and shock at Vier's death, had settled into a kind of vague numbness. A hazy blanket that clouded her mind, a survival mechanism to keep her from locking up in place. Even the strange stirring she'd felt before was muted along with her emotions. As the doors opened, Evelyn stepped forward, jostling the shoulder of the passenger next to her and mumbling an apology.

"Sorry."

It seemed the only way out, was forward.

 
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Gibaldr Moradem

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Ord Mantell was a new place for Del. He stepped off of the shuttle, pulling down his head wrappings to get some fresh air. He breathed in, then out, feeling the space around him. Everything was calm. Almost everything. Someone was in turmoil; pain and anger, mixed with fearful hope. It was a feeling Del knew, the reason he was here. He was searching for a way out of that place, too. He turned to look for the person, curiosity taking him, when a shoulder bumped his.

"Sorry." The voice of a woman, mumbled and apologetic, touched his ear. He looked down as she passed, the feeling of turmoil sticking to her. It was a shame to see her strong features so downtrodden. With the Force at his back, Del followed her, using his staff as a walking stick. His new short term purpose washed away his own jumble of emotions. The tide would rise again, he knew, but for now he would be content with knowing his Force given direction.

After all, the only way forward, was the Force.
 

Evelyn Roslin

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At first, Evelyn followed the surge of beings moving away from the loading dock, allowing herself to be swept up in the human current that often develops in such places. However, the crowd thinned out as they moved further into one of Ord Mantell's primary spaceports, and fairly rapidly, she found herself in the position of having to decide which way to go.

What does it matter?

Typically, she was a fairly positive person, but recent events left her sullen and numb. It was better than letting the pain through, at least. Best not to think - to feel - too deeply about anything. Otherwise, she worried that the rush of emotion would crash into her, leave her paralyzed. Or worse, bring back that feeling of standing on a precipice, staring down into a vortex that both terrified and fascinated her.

Shaking her head to clear the memory, telling herself she must have imagined half of it anyways, Evelyn pushed towards the exit of the spaceport. Her feet were moving without any real direction from her brain, simply picking a direction at random. A few twists and turns as she made her way out onto the streets, however, and something pulled her out of her daze. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, and Evelyn couldn't resist glancing behind her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary- there was too much of a crowd around this area to pick anything out anyways.

Still, following her instincts, Evelyn ducked into a nearby cafe, and took a seat at the bar.
 

Gibaldr Moradem

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Del thought of Vasi, his old friend, as he followed the woman. Her pain reminded him so much of Vasi, and how he'd lost his way. The Force was with her as well. He knew that it could bring serenity or chaos. He had been on both sides himself, and the latter was somewhere he never wanted to be again. He gripped his staff with determination and pulled up his head wrapping as the crowd thinned. He was thankful for the space; people made him uncomfortable and small space constricted his staff-work.

The Force thrummed in him and he stepped subtly to the side, placing himself behind a passerby as the woman looked back, her eyes skeptical. Her Force sense was acute. He'd have to be careful. Pulling the Force over himself, he continued on behind her, once again grabbing her emotions.

Suspicion. Fear.

Del watched as those emotions pulled her into a cafe. He sighed and quickened his step. He entered as calmly as possible and took of his head wrap. Slipping into a seat, he watched her at the bar. Suspicion still clung to her and unease settled next to it, clinging just as tight. He would have to wait her out.
 

Evelyn Roslin

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"Getcher anything?"

The bartender inquired with only a glance in her direction as he set a pair of drinks in front of a Rodian. Evelyn considered the question; it was late afternoon, and stimulants seemed to have given way to depressants as the beverage of choice among the clientele. It wasn't necessarily a rough joint- just brusque, impersonal, in the way that establishments near transport hubs tended towards. Nobody made eye contact with anyone else, for the most part.

Coffee would be the smart choice; keep her wits about her, try and clear the haze that made her feel like she was moving in slow motion. But then again, it didn't have the delightful numbing effect that alcohol did.

"Corellian wine."

She didn't feel tired anyways - at least, not exactly. Evelyn's sense of unease hadn't abated; it was like a dull itch at the edge of her senses, something she couldn't quite define. Drinking on a strange planet, alone, with nowhere to go, was probably a bad idea.

Who gives a frak? Maybe this'll help me relax . . . help me forget.

With that, she focused on her wine, the ruby-red color catching in the dim lighting as she brought it to her lips. Red, like. . .

Blood. Crimson, running in little rivulets down the man's leg where it was impaled by rebar. He cried out and whimpered, cursed and spat at her. She recognized his face- the same face that sneered as he passed on a speeder. Vier falling beside her, dead before he hit the ground. Rage filling her, the desire to spill more blood. The rock clutched in her hand, something deep down whispering that she could do it, she could crush his skull , make him pay for what he'd taken from her.

Evelyn coughed on that first sip of wine as the memory gripped her, her free hand clenching into a fist. It passed after a few seconds, and she exhaled slowly.


"You uh, want somethin' lighter there darlin?"

The bartender was smirking slightly; Evelyn's eyes flashed, her cheeks flushing a bit.

"No. This is fine."

It was shitty wine, actually, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was finding a way to keep herself together, keep her emotions at arm's length.
 

Gibaldr Moradem

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"Coffee," Del said, placing his hand on the woman's shoulder. He had nearly no idea what he was doing, but she needed someone to step in between her and the conflict she was having with herself. He looked at the bartender sternly. "Get her some coffee." The bartender gave a look to kill, but he made the drink. but Del turned to her, smiling as charmingly as he could - not very charming. "I think you need a clear head, friend, not a muddy one." He ordered himself a coffee and sat down next to her, gently sliding the wine away.
 

Evelyn Roslin

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"I think you need a clear head, friend, not a muddy one."

Evelyn watched the wine glass pushed away from her in a brief moment of surprise, then swiveled her head to meet the eyes of the slim, black-robed man occupying the seat next to her. The bartender's snide comment had already ruffled her feathers slightly; now, a complete stranger was trying to tell her what to drink?

"You've got no idea what I need, friend."

Her fingers slipped back around the stem of the wine glass, and brought it back to her, wondering just who this guy thought he was. If he was trying to hit on her, pushing coffee over wine seemed a poor strategy- though she had a feeling that wasn't quite the paradigm that fit here. Feeling slightly reckless and more than a little stubborn, she took an extra-long sip to prove her point. Just because he was probably right, didn't mean she was about to let some stranger dictate her actions.

"You make a habit of telling strangers what they should be drinking?"
 

Gibaldr Moradem

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"You make a habit of telling strangers what they should be drinking?" That did not sound good, not at all. Del suddenly had the feeling he had misstepped. Now he was really out of his depth. How was he to fix this? It was at time like these he wished he knew how to mind trick.

He turned to the bartender just as his coffee was placed in front of him
. "I'll have wine instead." To the woman he said, "No, I have a habit of trying to be helpful when I shouldn't."

That was true enough. He often wondered if he should've left Vasi alone, if his meddling had pushed his friend into the dark so deep he couldn't come out. And those words, "You've got no idea what I need, friend." Those had been Vasi's last. Del had asked him, begged him to leave, but Vasi hated the Jedi for no other reason than to have something to hate. Maybe it was what he needed; an end.

A glass of wine slid into his hand, breaking his thoughts. He lifted it and took a sip. Were people supposed to enjoy this?
 

Evelyn Roslin

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The bartender seemed less than impressed with his newest clients' lack of commitment to their orders. Then again, they'd wind up paying for the beverages whether they drank them or not. He simply grunted at Del's change of heart, set down the wine, and shifted to the far end of the bar to deal with less indecisive customers.

Evelyn sipped her wine more slowly now, considering the stranger's sudden acquiescence. She normally wasn't the confrontational type, but having one's world turned upside down tended to make one a little off. The door that had been forced open by the raw surge of emotions over the past few days seemed to have shifted something inside her.

After an awkward few seconds of silence, her people-pleasing instincts got the better of her, and she acknowledged in a less stand-offish tone,

"Sometimes there's just no way to help. Unless you can change the past."

Gods, now didn't that sound melodramatic? And I'm not even drunk yet.

Another drink, and she was nearly finished with her glass. Apparently, the alcohol-fueled days following Vier's death had done something to level her up from drinking novice. Catching Del's reaction to his drink, she shook her head, then noticed the staff he was carrying. Beings from all over the galaxy carried a variety of weapons, of course, and really its presence did more to remind her of her own lack of armament than anything else.

"You don't seem like a wine drinker."

Why she was making conversation, she wasn't sure; out of habit, probably.

 

Gibaldr Moradem

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Del watched the bartender go, giving him an awkward smile. Then he watched the woman think as she nursed her wine, probably considering how to handle him. He didn't know how to handle her, either. With a nervous hand, Del griped his staff, the cool metal calming him enough to think.

"Sometimes there's just no way to help. Unless you can change the past."
Del nodded, considering her words. Changing the past was outside of anyone's hands. Even the Force didn't tamper with time. Of course, time was a healer in its own right. Perhaps this woman needed time, but Del was worried she didn't have much left with the Force so turbulent inside of her.

The woman gulped her wine and Del looked down at his own, considering it. He took a drink himself.


"You don't seem like a wine drinker." She sounded conversational now. Thank the Force for that. With another drink, the wine tasting a bit better now, Del shook his head and smiled.

"I'm certainly not. Don't know if I'd ever had any before now. Oh, I'm Del, Del Vasi." Del offered his hand to shake, hoping he wasn't somehow being rude.
 

Evelyn Roslin

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"I'm certainly not. Don't know if I'd ever had any before now. Oh, I'm Del, Del Vasi."

Evelyn considered the proffered hand for a moment, then shook it briefly. No sense in being rude . . . and maybe this would help provide a distraction. Well- this, and another glass of wine. Letting herself get too wrapped up in her thoughts was a dangerous proposition just now.

"Evelyn."

She signaled the barkeep, and started working on glass number two. The past few days taught her that alcohol was a useful numbing mechanism, capable of keeping the storm of emotions at bay - but only if ingested in large enough quantities. She wasn't so sure what this guy's motives were, but then again, maybe it didn't matter. Here she was, alone, on an unfamiliar planet, with only memories to anchor her to who she'd been just days before. It wasn't like she had anything else to lose.

Awkward silence again. Silence, which started letting the sense of loss, pain, and fear, trickle around the edges of the clumsy walls she'd erected. Evelyn was afraid of those feelings, yes, because they meant pain - but she was more afraid of the pulsing energy she felt along with it. Alien yet intimately familiar in ways she couldn't articulate, didn't understand. So, she broke the silence again.

"What brings you to Ord Mantell?"
 

Gibaldr Moradem

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"The Force."

It was a simple answer, and true. The Force was his guide, having led him through the Outer Rim, across the unknown regions on the edge of Darkness, and here, to Ord Mantell. It was the only thing he had. It was lonely, but at the same time he was never alone. He closed his eyes and there it was, ready to embrace him. Del loved the Force the way one loved a parent, or so he assumed. In many ways it had been his mother, caring for him, nursing him, and his father, shaping him into a man and giving him the tools to survive.

Hmm. He allowed himself to question the Force. It had brought him here, months after conquering his darkness, only to immediately and literally collide with someone in the midst of their own battle. However, he could only guess. Del did not presume to know the workings of the Force; that was not hit place.

"What brings you?" A simple question equal to the one asked of him, but it was heavy for her, he was sure. The answer couldn't be pleasant.
 
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Evelyn Roslin

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The Force?

Evelyn had little personal experience with Force users, recent (and thankfully brief) run-in with a Sith notwithstanding. Everyone had heard about them, of course- tales of epic battles between the Jedi and Sith, of super-human myths and powers. How much of it was true, she couldn't say. The Sith she crossed paths with while escaping Coruscant seemed to hint that she possessed some degree of Force sensitivity herself, but . . . if that were true, why hadn't she been able to save the man she loved? The contradiction was one she clung to out of necessity, to avoid facing the reality that she could have saved Vier and simply . . . didn't.

Then again, some folks were just religious - saw the Force in everything, whether they were specifically in-tune with it or not. Maybe this guy was of that persuasion. It might explain the robes and staff, and his apparent savior complex.

"What brings you?"

A harder question than it should have been to answer. Evelyn had no desire to open that can of worms - ever, if she could avoid it - and certainly not with a stranger. Glass of wine number two, down the hatch, in a manner that was better suited to liquor.

"There wasn't anything left for me after Coruscant fell. This seemed as good a place as any."

It was a true enough answer, if lacking significantly in detail.

"You really believe the Force brought you here? Why?"

It seemed such a random thing to place one's faith in, and he'd been so somber when he said it, without a trace of humor.

 

Gibaldr Moradem

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Del felt Evelyn's skepticism before he saw it play out across her face. Not a believer, then. It didn't rightly matter. The Force was in and around everything, whether Evelyn liked it or not. Still, he understood her apprehension. The Force had been twisted, by the Jedi and the Sith, into a weapon. They forced it to their will, defined it as if it could be put into simple words, and used it to battle for control. The Jedi acted like protectors and heroes, but they were as arrogant as the Sith were evil.

"You really believe the Force brought you here? Why?"


Del laughed. The question had caught him off guard. "Why?" He shook his head, finishing his glass of wine and ordering another. The bartender set it down and Del curled a few fingers. The glass slid across the bar into his hand. He was weak with telekinesis, but the Force always delivered. "Because I don't have much of anything either, but I always have the Force." He considered what he should and shouldn't say, then decided that hiding things wasn't the way to go. "I grew up in the Outer Rim as a slave to men and my own powers, traveled the Unknown Regions into adulthood, and now I'm here sitting next to you. Logically, I should be dead, yet I'm not. What else could have delivered me so, but the Force?"
 

Evelyn Roslin

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Hazel eyes widened slightly as the glass slid into his hand, and the young woman tensed almost imperceptibly at the show of - well, not power in a threatening sense, but power nonetheless. It certainly settled the issue of whether he was simply a run-of-the-mill fanatic or not.

"Because I don't have much of anything either, but I always have the Force."


Evelyn's brow furrowed slightly as she considered that. He didn't seem to be mocking her, and there was no irony to his tone. No, it appeared he completely believed what he was saying - that the Force gave him something, not because of what it could accomplish for him, but simply by existing. She could see the allure of it, given that since Vier's death, she'd felt nothing but alone - adrift.

"I grew up in the Outer Rim as a slave to men and my own powers, traveled the Unknown Regions into adulthood, and now I'm here sitting next to you. Logically, I should be dead, yet I'm not. What else could have delivered me so, but the Force?"

Unbidden and unexpected, anger flared in her, at the calm confidence in his tone. Poised, self-assured. One of those "everything happens for a higher purpose" philosophers, no doubt. She'd been along those lines before, always looking for the bright side - and how had that worked out for her?

"Chance. Luck. Your own skill. Sometimes things don't happen for a reason - sometimes they just happen."

The sound of blaster fire rang in her ears milli-seconds after Vier started to fall. The speeder buzzing past her without even slowing. Random, senseless violence with no rhyme or reason.

Her fist clenched, and the glass in her hand trembled for a moment.

"And there's nothing we can do about it."
 

Gibaldr Moradem

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Del's face shifted to worry as Evelyn's emotion slid around inside her. Awe. Anger. Guilt.

"Chance. Luck. Your own skill. Sometimes things don't happen for a reason - sometimes they just happen. And there's nothing we can do about it."


"You're right. The Force is not some god, guiding every moment, every motion, changing the world as it sees it. I would hardly even call it sentient. The Force, in its essence, is balance. That's what it provides." Del paused, taking a drink of his wine, and thought carefully on his next words. Evelyn was ready to believe, maybe needed to, and the Force was willing, wanting to help her. It was up to Del to make the connection. "Somewhere in the galaxy, I am needed to bring balance to something. Maybe big, maybe small, but something. That is why the Force gives to me, so that I can give to it. You are needed too, to bring balance to something. But you don't give to the Force, so the Force cannot give to you." Another drink. "I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life; you're a grown woman, you can do that for yourself. However, I know a thing or two about the Force and how to treat it. It's been good to me and it will be good to you, if you let it."
 

Evelyn Roslin

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Yep. Definitely a Force fanatic.

To be fair, Del's overture about balance and the Force was a more sophisticated version than what one normally heard on street corners; however, it had a similar shape to it. Give yourself over to a higher power, let the Force guide you, shape you - we're all tools of it, whether you believe or not - she'd heard bits and pieces of it before, always dismissed it as well-meaning, but a rather passive way to go about living one's life.

Balance, peace - I had that. And it shattered in less than a second.

She was finishing her third glass, bitterness rising, already planning an exit strategy, when Del finished his sip and spoke once more.


"I know a thing or two about the Force and how to treat it. It's been good to me and it will be good to you, if you let it."


That gave her pause, made her wonder for a moment - what if the Sith hadn't been lying? What if she could access the Force after all? It would mean that she'd failed terribly . . . but it also opened the possibility for something else to rise from the ashes. Her derision faded in favor of curiosity.

"And how exactly do I do that? Sit cross-legged with my eyes closed until the Force deigns to send me an epiphany?"
 

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"And how exactly do I do that? Sit cross-legged with my eyes closed until the Force deigns to send me an epiphany?"

Del shook his head at Evelyn. She thought of the Force the Jedi way. Furthermore, her hardship had made faith an enemy, as his had long ago. It was only when he'd stopped treating the Force like a tool and forgave himself for Vasi's death, that he was able to become something more than himself. Vasi. Evelyn. So similar. So bitter and with good reason. Vasi hadn't had a place to put that resentment, no path to channel it. Evelyn needed one now.

"I'm not a Jedi. I don't meditate, or preach peace." Del said, feeling a sliver of frustration. The Jedi were weak, clinging to one side of the Force, seeking to destroy the other, and calling it balance. "The Force isn't passive. It's constantly flowing in and through everything. Meditating allows you to find the Force in yourself but not in everything else, but it's everything else that matters. That's the reason the Jedi fail. They're constantly trying to find the Force in their temples when they should find it in the world."

Del didn't know a more self centered people than the Jedi. They thought they were the harbingers of the Force and they should regulate its use when in reality, the Force regulated itself. The Force was balance and it would create that balance on its own, one way or the other. An order of knowledge hoarding holier-than-thous wasn't necessary.

A thought occurred to Del as he swallowed a stream of wine. He quirked an eyebrow at Evelyn.
"You are aware that you're Force sensitive, right?"
 

Evelyn Roslin

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Evelyn was busy chewing on Del's monologue about the Jedi - the first time she'd really detected a swell of emotion in his voice, and his question caught her off-guard.

"You are aware that you're Force sensitive, right?"


It was phrased more like a statement than a question, and Evelyn felt her cheeks flushing. She didn't want to deal with this right now - didn't know how to deal with it.

"I've always had a little quicker reflexes, been good at reading people, but that doesn't mean . . . "

She took a deep breath, inhaled and exhaled slowly. Trying to calm the storm that was stirring beneath the surface; she felt so off-kilter lately, like a stack of blocks in a children's game, where all it would take was a stiff wind to topple everything over.

"That doesn't mean I'm Force-sensitive. I've never done anything, like you did with the wine, or anything. . . special."

She'd been so consumed by shock, grief, and anger, that she'd never noticed the cracks in the store windows near the scene of Vier's murder. Never thought to question what might have caused them.

"Not even when it mattered most."

Evelyn's voice was quiet, as though talking more to herself than Del.
 

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Del listened to her speak, saw her struggling with something - her past, most likely. It was clear that at one time she need the Force and it hadn't been there. The same had happened to him many, many times.

"Master, please don-" Del's head snapped to the side from the impact. Again and again, his master lay violent hands on him. He searched for the Force, called to it, touched it for the briefest second...

"You dare!" His master planted the butt of the staff into Del's stomach, and the boy collapsed. Next to him lie Vasi, blood trickling out of his mouth, bruises covering his torso form hours of 'training.' Still, the white haired boy reached out a hand for Del. Just as they touched, the staff came down again, and again, and again.

"I know how you feel, better than you might think. What I can say is this; if it weren't for the tragedy of my youth, I would not be the man I am today. I know that, and the Force, in some way, knows that too." Del downed his wine in one go. "Besides, if it hadn't been me, it would've been someone else."
 
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