011 - Week 3 Day 3: One Can Only Trust (Part 2)

Cora blinked at the darkness as her eyes adjusted. Where was she again? Why was it dark? What had she missed?

Questions with no forthcoming answers rattled around in her head. Groaning Cora lifted her head. Well she tried. She did not get more than a few millimeters off the pillow before she gave up.

She was exhausted. She had not felt this wrung out since, well the war. Using all her willpower and sheer determination she sat up. Mentally going over the aches in her body she knew that if she did not try to move she'd stiffen up and not be getting out of bed for days. 

Looking down at herself someone had redressed her in nightwear. She gritted her teeth at the high handed attitude of either Dominik or Zhâlu. Granted they likely had a Twi’lek female assist her but still, it sent the message of STAY IN BED loud and clear. A message she was going to ignore. She picked at the thin almost sheer, but not quite, light blue linen bought on one of the trips to Alderaan she had with Dominik.

She managed to pull her lead filled, or at least it felt that way, legs from under the covers; that she was sure were weighted with the densest material in the known universe. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked around for her clothes.

Nothing.

Her bag?

Nowhere. 

With a frustrated heavy, audible sigh Cora flopped back across the bed lengthwise her arms one above her head the other across her stomach. She would bet her hair was messy and imagined she looked like a preteen.

Dominik and the Sith Pureblood had gone off to the collapse across the cavern. The older Jedi seemed to be meditating, and Sar decided not to bother them. There was one Jedi he really wanted to check on, Cora. The man gave her time, he knew she was exhausted from keeping Dominik’s condition from failing. He managed to scrounge up a small meal of bread and a small steak of Rycrit. It was drier than he would have preferred, but Cora needed sustenance and this was all he had in the moment.

Walking towards the tent with the plate in his hand, he slowly parted the fabric and peeked in. He saw some movement from Cora as she laid back down and sighed. He smiled softly before stepping into the tent, clearing his throat as he subtly announced his arrival.

“How are you feeling?”

Tilting her head Cora saw an upside-down Sar carrying what smelled like food. Her stomach growled as if she had not eaten in days. Not that she remembered when the last time she had eaten was. "I am well. How are you fairing?"

She was fibbing. If only a little. Well maybe a lot. She attempted to sit up. Congratulating herself that she did not groan as she got into a sitting position.

“I would be better if I knew how you were truly doing.” Sar teased, grabbing a stool near Dominik’s cot and bringing it over with him. He sat down on it, watching Cora for a few moments as he couldn’t help that soft smile on his face. “You’ve been running yourself ragged. It’s not that hard to see.” he said, offering out the small meal.

Raising an eyebrow at Sar, Cora blinked slowly. "I do not have the energy to prevaricate. I am exhausted. And I cannot afford to be so. With this illness of Dominik's, sleep is a luxury I can ill afford." She caught herself swaying and painstakingly put her back against a wall to stay upright. She knew she needed to eat, but she was not sure she had the energy to do so. 

Seeing Cora sway, Sar moved quickly to help support her if she needed it. He watched the Jedi woman position herself against the wall in an attempt to keep her exhaustion at bay. “Surely your… Padawan, was it? Surely he can cover for Dominik where you cannot. Besides, the old man is on the mend, he is doing better. You must take this time to rest while you can, Cora, for everyone’s sake and for yours.” 

Sar worked to pull apart the small Rycrit steak with a crude wooden fork as he spoke to Cora. He could tell she was exhausted. The last he could do was help the Jedi healer eat.

Watching as Sar began to pull apart the meat Cora’s stomach growled loudly. She put her hand over it blushing. "I suppose you have a valid point. Although I am sure your points are all valid I still feel like I should pout about it. However you have some food and apparently my stomach is about to eat my spine. Is it horrible that I do not recall the last time I ate?”

Sar worked to completely pull apart the steak while Cora spoke. His gaze moved between the food and the Jedi just to prove that he was listening. "If you cannot recall the last time you ate then it has probably been far too long." 

Sar handed over the small meal to Cora as he finished dividing it into pieces. "You should get some rest tonight. Let your body recover. Take this time to take care of yourself while Dominik is well. You give yourself far too little credit for saving his life."

Taking the meal, refusing to give into the thought of Sar feeding her Cora methodically attacking the meal as fast as she was able. Which wasn’t fast. She finished half of the meal before she was full and in danger of spilling the rest. Nervous about dropping it and moving slowly she was able to set the meal aside without spilling it.

Cora had enough energy to talk but not to stay upright. She wanted a cup of water but knew that she would not be able to hold the cup. She looked up at Sar and blushed. “Can I trouble you for a drink of water… I hate to admit this but… I will need help to drink it.” She looked down embarrassed. 

Sar watched Cora eat quickly, his concern only grew. He noticed the shakiness in her hands but it seemed she wasn't going to ask for assistance. Once she asked for the water, a soft smile grew on Sar's face and he nodded. "Of course, let me go grab some." 

He left quickly but was also back within a couple minutes. Walking in with a small wooden cup of water, Sar took his seat next to Cora and brought the cup to her lips. He made sure she was ready before he slowly started to tip it. He held one hand behind her next to help keep her steady while the other hand gently poured the liquid past her lips. 

Sipping slowly Cora looked up at Sar, her color heightened. He is holding me...and I'm reading too much into it. Far too much. Cora drained the cup slowly. She was too awake and his person so close. He was, quite possibly, the warmest person she had felt. Certainly the most intimate. She let him remove the cup and she ran her tongue across her lips.

Sar pulled the cup back from Cora’s lips as she emptied it. He stood up and moved over to Dominik’s cot, pulling the spare blanket folded at the foot of it and bringing it back over to Cora. He kneeled onto the makeshift bed she laid on as he threw the blanket over her. Leaning over the woman, he made sure it covered all the way down to her toes and up to her waist while she sat. 

“Now, you need to rest.” He said, glancing at the woman and smiling softly.

Cora raised an eyebrow. “I am sure we established this already. We also established that I am not that exhausted.” She yawned. “Ignore that. How are the others? Anything I need to worry about?”

Sar rolled his eyes as he continued to check the blanket and make sure it covered Cora as much as it could while she was sitting up. “Everyone is fine, Cora. It is you that you need to worry about.”

Zhâlu was on his way back to the tent, Master Dominik with him, when he sensed the unrecognized presence within. Grasping his hilt, the Twi’lek inside got the warning of only a couple of steps before the Pureblood had thrown open the flap. Instead of a threat to his master’s life, however, he found a threat to her innocence, as it were, as the Twi’lek’s leader stood over her, looking at Zhâlu in stunned silence as he drank in the scene. After a moment, one of the white-blue blades snapped to life. ”I’ll give you until ten.”

Holding on to Zhâlu for support as they made their way back to the tent, Dominik’s focus was elsewhere as they walked. Not much was said as Zhâlu led Dominik into the tent, though the older Jedi felt a change in attitude in a few quick moments. He heard Zhâlu’s blades snap to life and it was in that moment that Dominik truly focused. For a second his heart sped, for he thought there was a threat that he hadn’t yet detected. At Zhâlu’s words though, his blind eyes moved to Cora, where he saw Sar. 

Where Zhâlu threatened Sar, Dominik couldn’t help but stifle a gentle chuckle as he realized what was happening. He gently let go of the Pureblood and hobbled over to his cot, sitting down on the edge of it and watching the confrontation for a few moments.

Cora’s gaze snapped away from Sar’s own and to Zhâlu who was most definitely upset at the least. Cora reached out and caught Sar’s hand. “You cannot be serious Zhâlu.” Cora’s eyebrow raised in question. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dominik come in and sit down.

Hearing the lightsabers and feeling the tension in the air, Sar looked over to see both the male Jedi having returned from their short walk. Cora caught one of his hands which stopped him from pulling back completely. “It’s- it’s not what you think, I promise you my friend.” Sar said, finally wiggling out of Cora’s grasp as Sar took a step back and held his hands out. “I was just covering her with the blanket, insisting she rest.”

Neither the Pureblood’s weapon nor gaze moved, except that his eyes narrowed. ”Oh I’m very serious, Master. I think ten is fair, since the Twi’lek doesn’t have the Force to help him run.” Spinning the lightsaber, the second blade finally sprang to life. ”And if you think I”ll take a convenient excuse, I don’t think I will. One.”

Dominik rubbed one hand over his face, hiding a smile but unable to hide his chuckling. Sar backed away as Dominik sat amused across the room, and the older Jedi finally slowly stood and held a hand out to Zhâlu. 

“Zhâlu, come now.” He said, still unable to sound completely serious. “I trust Sar, young one.” the man continued, bringing up that term again. “Cora,” he then began, head moving towards his previous padawan, “you’re alright? You and Sar, you’re good?”

Not taking her eyes off Zhâlu the steady eye contact Cora made as she struggled to her feet and stood tall. Well her diminutive height of 1.65 meters. Her eyes reflected the struggle that it was. “I am. We are. I was just getting up. Zhâlu, Sar has done nothing wrong. I was never in danger from him.” Cora’s stress of any had that heavy hint that even her virtue was not in danger. She indicated the half eaten meal. “Observe and reign in your temper or I will do so for you.”

Zhâlu deactivated his sabers, but his stance didn’t move or shift. ”It is not my temper, Master. You are like a sister to me, and I’ll be damned if you get hurt. Physically or emotionally.” The Pureblood put special emphasis on the or in his sentence before he moved to his master’s side and helped her sit back down. ”And you should be resting, as your Twi’lek friend here has probably told you. I may be a warrior before I am a healer, but you have taught me well. Recover your strength.”

Sar took a step back as Zhâlu’s sabers deactivated. He glanced at Cora, then Dominik, then back to the angry Pureblood before the man came his way. “I brought her a meal and some fluids.” He explained, stepping back further, closer to Dominik across the tent as he watched the Master-Padawan pair. “I apologize if I’ve caused any grief. It was not my intention.” he said, glancing at Dominik who waved the Twi’lek man’s worries off with one hand. The older Jedi trusted Sar with his life, despite the treachery he’s endured at the hands of a mysterious traitor. It was true, he didn’t yet approve of Cora and Sar’s budding relationship, not now while they were about to start fighting a war. But Dominik still saw no issue in the two being close friends.

Standing from the edge of his cot, leaning heavily on his walking stick, Dominik addressed Cora. “You should rest while I am well, Cora. We both know what this toxin is capable of. And I will refuse your aid if it means putting your health and well-being at risk. You have your Padawan at your side, he is yours to use and accomplish things when you cannot.”

Cora blinked at the formality the conversation had turned to and wanted to pitch a fit, which is why she did not. She let Zhâlu sit her back down. She was rather exhausted and they were correct. It was the inherent disapproval in her choice of significant other that rubbed her wrong. It was a rather inopportune moment and was it not just her luck? Was there really an opportune moment though?

Glaring from Zhâlu to Dominik she expressed her displeasure in the form of her sullen silence and that glare that was all her own. Cora satisfied that her point was made, for now, turned towards Sar with a warm smile. "Please forgive them they are protective; though they do not need to be. It is not as if I were defenseless; and even if I were you would not have taken advantage of the situation. You are a gentleman and I know, will continue to be one. Thank you for the meal and concern. Perhaps we can talk after I have rested?" She looked at Sar hopefully. 

Sar couldn’t help the smile on his face as Cora spoke. He did not blame the two male Jedi for being protective, he rather admired it. But he also would’ve enjoyed the Pureblood not assuming the worst. “If the opportunity comes, I would love to, Cora.” Sar said. He bowed respectfully to her and then looked to Dominik. The older man reluctantly nodded, as if approving the ‘request’ from Sar. The Twi’lek man nodded before he took his leave from the tent, glancing at Cora with a smile before he disappeared through the doorway.

Waiting a few moments after Sar had left, Dominik sighed and looked to Cora. 
“You know we mean well, right?” the older Jedi asked as he looked to his old Padawan. The man remained standing, though it was obviously somewhat tiring, as his gaze went between Cora and Zhalu. “We’re at war, Cora. Or nearly to it. Decisions have to be made and I would prefer that none of us are distracted.”
 
Cora’s eyes fell to Dominik as he spoke. "I know you meant well. I have one word for you on this whole subject Dominik. Merrian." She knew he'd remember the Selphi woman fondly and that she was also someone that had turned his head in a time of war. Smirking Cora raised an eyebrow knowing he'd be able to feel it. Her smugness was so present that you could feel the weight of it.


Something in Dominik’s aura changed suddenly as Cora mentioned Merrian; the look on her face and her words that Dominik couldn’t help but show concern towards. 


“Do you expect me to take your comparison lightly?” Dominik asked, his tone suddenly very dangerous as his expression turned stone cold. “This is not a joke, Cora,” he said, his voice wavering as decisions and responsibilities came crashing down on his conscience like a Sith Destroyer into the surface of a planet. “When I knew Merrian, when I thought of her that way and looked at her that way, we weren’t able to spend time together each day, we were constantly off in the war, Cora. But there was also a chance we could come back. We weren’t trapped on a planet, far from help and with an enemy breathing down our necks.” Dominik said, one hand firmly holding on to his walking stick as the other gestured towards the cavern in a motion that tried to show the seriousness of the situation. 


“We have no escape here, Cora. We are trapped, at the mercy of an enemy who is so silent but deadly we have no choice but to be defensive. We have two missing Jedi. Our Twi’lek friends who can be captured and used against us if the enemy wished.” Dominik paused for a few long moments as he debated in sitting back down. “We don’t have the luxury that I had years ago, Cora!’


Cora got very still as her former Master started in on a lecture that she had presented herself with almost nightly. Dominik had a point. She was not joking about it. "You are sadly mistaken if for one moment you think I do not know what we are up against here Master Rothul. And if you think for one moment that I could let my feelings get in the way of a decision I know is right then you have no one to blame but yourself. I however know better. I can make those cold-blooded decisions that mean life or death; that mean paralysis or being able to walk. I have done it for years."


Cora was running on pure adrenaline as she stood back up shrugging off Zhâlu gently. She was not upset at Zhâlu nor was she thoroughly upset with Dominik. She was much more hurt that neither one of these men trusted her. "Thank you for expressing your trust, or lack thereof, in my mental capacity. It must be because I am female. Unfortunately that I cannot and would not correct even given the chance. If you would excuse me Master Rothul. Zhâlu."


Her tone was frigid as was her posture. She bowed stiffly and waited to be dismissed by Dominik. She managed to stay upright but doubted that she would for much longer. She was heart-sore over the lack of trust and just wanted to go lick her wounds in peace. Alone.


“It is not that I don’t trust you Cora! It’s-- I don’t want that decision to have to be presented, to anyone. You, Sar, Me, your Padawan. I-”


Dominik paused, he knew trying to clarify himself now would be useless. Words had been said and tones had been altered. He could never truly be prepared for his own temper, especially not when it came to the well-being of those around him. She bowed to both of them and Dominik realized she needed to walk away. It was always something he had done to quell his temper and his issues, he would not take that opportunity away from her despite his temper. The man sat down rather quickly on the edge of his cot, rubbing his blind eyes with one hand as the other let his walking stick fall to the ground before waving at Cora. 


“Go. Leave me to my foolishness.” He muttered.


"As you wish Master Rothul. Zhâlu if you would watch after Master Rothul please." She looked over at the two men in her life, face devoid of emotion as she waited for Zhâlu to acknowledge her order.


Zhâlu spent the better part of the exchange happening in front of him in stunned silence, his hand frozen in place as he’d been going to check her temperature with the back of it. Dominik’s sudden change in tone and attitude had been...unexpected and almost a complete 180 from the light-hearted chuckles of before. He opened his mouth to offer a retort to the older Jedi, but his master beat him to it and her own emotional response, or her seemingly emotionless one, left him nearly as speechless, but now he was aggravated.


Angry wasn’t nearly the right word, because it wasn’t quite angry that he felt. But frustration...As Cora spoke to him, her face empty of expression, he locked eyes on her. ”Not but two minutes ago you had the nerve to lecture me about my temper and now here you are, letting yours get the better of you with the man you said basically raised you. You lecture him for caring for you! You lecture him for wanting your safety and well being, even though he knows how capable you are!” The Pureblood shook his head in disappointment as he moved to retrieve some more water for Dominik.


”I am unsure of if you have figured this out yet, Cora, but that toxin? It’s killing Master Dominik. It is certainly taking its time about it, an intentionally designed trait outside of what the Sphere of Secrets normally employs, but it is killing him all the same. Is this what you want to leave as a final memory with the man you call your father? It’s both sad and despicable after everything you’ve taught me.” Taking the water to Dominik, he helped the older gentleman to sit down before facing his teacher again, his eyes narrow.


”I can take being called chauvinistic and overbearing. It comes from being raised in a race where the women would take off your head as quickly as any man, quite literally in most cases. What I will not take is you attacking your own former master for caring for you. We understand you care about Sar, the fool that Twi’lek is if he thinks to tame your strong head, but this situation? It does not allow for such attachments. You can stand here and tout that you can make a call to let him die if you have to, but when that moment comes,” Zhâlu closes the distance between himself and Cora and looks down into her eyes, ”could you truly sacrifice someone you loved? Or would you rather die in their place?”


He held her gaze for a moment before turning back and walking to a side of the tent to sit down. ”I won’t give the Sith that chance, Cora. If it looks like they may take him to use him against you, I will end the Twi’lek, if only to save him from suffering. Now, if you’re still keen to go sulk in your own tent, I will remain with Master Dominik, but I will also be checking on you to ensure you are resting.” His tone held a finality to it that bespoke that he was serious about that last part, but also that he was done discussing the prior argument further.


Cora let her Padawan finish and looked down at him as she stepped up. “You mistake me Padawan. This is not a temper, I can show you temper Padawan. I lecture him for not trusting me after all these years. I lecture for the lack of faith and trust in his own methods of teaching. The mere suggestion that I do not know my duty is not only outrageous it is entirely fabricated. If this is how he has been training Lo then he needs to know he is crippling her.”


Walking over to Dominik she held his hands in her own squeezing briefly. She looked over at Zhâlu as she left a hand over both Dominik’s own. "You may have been raised Sith but you are no longer a Sith, Padawan. You have no idea of what I am capable of. As for your tone I take umbrage with it and the way you have spoken to me as well as your bedside manner. One does not point out if they assume that the patient is dying. It is rather unhealthy. The mind and body are linked more than you realize, much to my dismay, I assumed that you understood that lesson. You may have done irreparable damage with your careless words. Get out of my patient’s tent and go reflect on the words you have spoken. If I need relief I will have you contacted.”



Much of the words of both younger Jedi seemed to slowly blend together as Dominik’s mind attempted to get through the foolishness he felt from his initial outburst. He caught phrases and words from both of them, but the entire confrontation could have been avoided had he reigned in his temper and chosen his words properly. Somewhere, drowning in his thoughts, Zhâlu handed him a small drink of water. Dominik took the glass but did not move. He simply held it down in front of him as his elbows rested on his knees. 


One thing Dominik’s mind did focus on, however, was the darkness that was his coming death. He had figured it out not long ago, the truth that the toxin in his body was going to eventually kill him. There was a reason it was constantly toying and eating away at his body; his fits of pain and weakness. It was a slow coming death. The older man constantly wondered if his next breath would be his last. Zhâlu’s words reminded him of that impending dread.


He had subconsciously placed the small cup of water down besides his feet. The next thing that gained his attention was the feeling of Cora's hands in his own. Absent-mindedly he squeezed her hands back, just enough that he realized his action. The air was thick and Dominik could sense the tension between the three of them. He took no sides, for each side had their reasons and doubts as to why the other did what they did. It pained his head, causing the man to move one of his hands from Cora’s own and bring it up to rub his temple as his eyes shut tightly. 


The Master Jedi was silent, muted by his thoughts, drowning in his self-doubt and regrets as he sat there slowly easing into a headache. 


”I am not a petulant child to be dismissed because I rubbed you the wrong way, Master. Nor do I think you do Master Dominik credit. He likely knew what was happening before I spoke and putting it off when he can feel what’s happening more acutely than any empath ever will does him no favors, but I will not argue this any further. As for the Sith,” The Pureblood stood once more and headed for the tent flap, ”we were a people before we were the opposite of Jedi, and we are a dying one at that. You need to rest, Cora, there is no denying that. I will be back in a couple of hours to make sure you have, since you won’t do so yourself.”


Heading out the tent flaps, he pauses and glances back at the two Jedi inside. ”I am nothing if not honest, Master. You know that. If it were purely disappointment I sensed from our bond, I would have chosen that word. Do not ignore your own feelings, I know all too well how slippery a slope that can be.” And with that, he was gone, disclosing his location to no one as he headed for the cave entrance to see what lay around them and begin looking for locations the Sith could be launching their covert strikes from.


”I should not have spoken to you the way I did.” Dominik muttered, clearly in pain as he attempted to soothe the headache now pounding away at his mind. His thoughts went back to Lo and the argument they both had just before the ambush and her disappearance. He regretted yelling at her, doubting her, making her feel lesser simply because she was trying to help. He should have trusted her more, just as he should have trusted Cora not to let her feelings cloud her judgement. 


“I trust more in the Force than I do my fellow Jedi. I was too hard on her… too hard on you. My judgement is being clouded… I’m so foolish.” He continued, his voice weaker as he went on, his throat hurting and sore as he attempted to reign in his emotions. The man leaned forward more where he was sitting, as if his strength was failing him as his grief washed over. 


Sighing, Cora moved to collect Dominik’s cup and moved to her stash of herbs. Seeing Dominik in pain had her worried. Sprinkling some powder in the cup. It would ease Dominik’s headache and allow him to sleep. Sleep they both needed desperately. "You are not foolish. As much as that would ease your mind I cannot allow you to think this. You were as hard as necessary, kinder than most would have been in your position." 


Cora swirled the cup gently and moved to place it in Dominik’s hand. "Trust in the Force is not a bad thing. However I was just as harsh. Perhaps I am more like you than you realize. At times much to my chagrin. Drink Pa… Dominik. It will subvert your headache. You need not apologize for your words. Neither you nor Zhâlu were incorrect in your assumptions." 


Dominik’s blind eyes seemingly stared at the ground whilst Cora worked on preparing something. He could hazily see her movements through the Force, feel the vibrations in the ground. His hands absentmindedly rubbed into each other as his mind wandered. As Cora came near again and gently placed the cup in his hands, the man hesitated to drink it. He pondered her words and the argument they had all had minutes ago. What if those had been his final moments, his final memory being that of yelling at his old Padawan; Lo still missing, Kayda presumed dead. There was so much left to do, it was all unfinished. And if he left this world, not many would know how to fix and finish it all. 


“Cora.”[/color[ Dominik began, his voice quiet and weak as he hesitated to speak. He took in a deep breath, blind eyes directed at the cup in his hands before those eyes closed as he opened his mouth to speak again. 


“We need to talk. About… what should happen if-” Dominik paused. He sighed in frustration, there was no way to make this sound better, he shouldn’t try to cushion the blow. 


“When- I die.”


She wanted to scream at him. Tell him that he could not. That he was not allowed to. But Cora did not do any of those things. Instead she cried silently. Knowing that Dominik needed to say this because if he did not he would not be willing to hear her.


“I do not want you to try anything foolish. I know the lengths a healer would go through to save a patient who is important to them,” his head looked up and blind eyes opened again, halfway, to see Cora, “but if it is the will of the Force that I do not remain, you must not get in the way of that.” He said, watching the younger woman for a moment before looking away. “If I die, I need you to do everything you can to get as many of us off of Ryloth, alive, and back to Tython.” He said. “This is no longer a relief mission, it hasn’t been for some time now. It’s purely survival and I need you to do whatever you can to make sure that we survive. I can hardly do that in the state I am in now.” 

Dominik took the cup in hand and started to sip at the liquid. He could taste the herbs right away. “My days are numbered. We all know this. And if there is no cure, no way to stop it, I need to make sure I’ve done as much as I can before I’m gone.”


Thinking for a moment Cora digested his words. She discreetly wiped her tears away and swallowed heavily. "So what I am hearing is that you are taking your condition more seriously." She shook her head and swallowed again to clear the slight strain of tears in her voice. "I would not have you give up just yet. Yet if unburdening your mind assists in your recovery I am listening."


Dominik swallowed the rest of the water in the cup before his eyes closed again. They stung slightly, almost as if they were a little dry. He rubbed them for a moment before lowering his head slightly as he rested them for a moment. “There is no giving up, Cora. I will never give up. But I must be realistic. Do not do anything foolish should my end look near. I would like you to be there, for Lo, when she comes back. I know she’ll come back. I wish to hear her voice, one more time.”


Concern for Dominik creased Cora's forehead. "Dominik that will be difficult, but I think we can allow it. You know how these things go. You are not unaware that she will need to be…" 


Cora paused for a long moment. "There is a debriefing process she will need to go through. Anyone even in times of peace has to be reassessed. Rehabilitated if need be. Perhaps not as much as Zhâlu had to go through but there are evaluations that must be made."


“And if we’re stuck planetside, the Sith breathing down our necks, and I am on my deathbed, will you still not let her see me?” Dominik asked, a slight frown forming on his face as he spoke. If he had the ability to see, he would’ve shot a glare at Cora, but his eyes remained lowered and partially open instead. 


Narrowed eyes fell on Dominik and Cora almost ground her teeth. "You ask me to make hard decisions for everyone but yourself? If she is assessed as a danger. Yes without hesitation. If she is not then no. I would not separate you from your Padawan. Seems like you do not trust me to do the hard things. This is where the argument lies. Do you see me as that much of a failure?"


The farther Cora dove into her words, the more irritated and frustrated Dominik grew. He held back his feelings though. This was not how he wanted to remember his final days. Not as an angry, bitter old Jedi. Summoning all of his strength, Dominik leaned down and grabbed his walking stick before standing suddenly. Blind eyes opened almost fully as he looked directly at Cora. There was a fierceness to his look, that stubbornness that would never go away despite the blindness that took his vision. 


“If I saw you as a failure, I would be speaking to you as a Council Member and your old Master… not as a friend.” He retorted quietly, his expression showing just how well he was holding back emotions that Cora’s words had pulled back up. The old man turned suddenly, without another word, and made his way to the exit of the tent. 


Hands clenched and released as Cora listened. "Not a friend but as a father to an untried teenage daughter. Sometimes, no most times, you bring out my temper. I wonder where I learned that from? You need rest as do I. I shall attempt not to push your buttons if you do not attempt to push mine."

Dominik paused at the exit, hearing Cora’s words and taking them in. A sigh could be heard before he turned and disappeared, letting the tent fabric fall back into place and leaving Cora alone in silence.

As the moments dragged by Cora began to go back over the conversation. She began to resort herbs by uses, alphabetical, amount and date gathered. She had reorganized and categorized into specific subcategories at least seven different times. On edge and frustrated Cora rubbed her forehead as she put everything away.

Rubbing her temple Cora went to the bed that she made up much earlier. She sat down and put her head in her hands. Running her hands through her hair. Pushing it off her face and rubbing her neck. The feelings were welling up from inside and she struggled to push them down.

Despite Zhâlu’s best attempts to find some kind of excitement to help him focus on other things than the argument he’d witnessed and somewhat partaken of, but alas, he had no luck with such things, nor did he find a suitable spot for a ship to hide in that looked even remotely used, so after a couple of hours of fruitless searching, he returned to the caverns. He nodded to the guards as he walked in, the two of whom had blaster rifles scanning the forest's edge as if they expected something to attack any moment but other than that seemed fairly relaxed. He himself was still learning the paths within their hidey hole and so it was still several minutes after his return before he finally found his way back to where he’d left Master Dominik and Cora, though he wasn’t sure how she was or if she had even rested any.

The general sensation from their bond was along the lines of struggling, but other than that, either she was shielding herself or her emotions were messing with it. Still, as he entered the tent and found her visibly upset and Master Dominik gone, he quietly sat down across from her. Silence reigned for several minutes before, unable to bear it any longer, he spoke. ”What happened?”

Lifting her hand Cora pushed hair out of her eyes tucking it behind her ears. "Dare I ask you what you can imagine happened? That is likely a better version of what transpired here."

”To be honest, I don’t wish to presume anything without evidence, Cora. But what little bit slips through our bond says it wasn’t as improved as I’d hoped it would be after I left.” Zhâlu sighed, his eyes falling almost instinctively on his hands as he looked down. ”It seems that perhaps I am doomed to bring conflict where I go, no matter my intentions…” If Cora had reviewed much of his file before taking the Pureblood under her wing, she would find these exact words had been added in a footnote by one of the members of the High Council, one who’d been fervently against his being allowed to join the Jedi and instead incarcerated in the highest security prison they could find, if not executed by firing squad. To this day, he was thankful that his was the only voice that couldn’t be won over by Jedi Master Intara of the Kel’Dor race.

But sometimes those words still haunted the young Sith-turned-Jedi, especially where he had been involved in arguments or conflicts amongst his own fellow Jedi. ”Perhaps,” he continued without looking up, ”taking me under your wing was a mistake…”

Cora's head picked up as Zhâlu recounted that phrase that had inspired her to take on this forward thinking man as her Padawan. "If you think for one moment that I could ever believe that old bag of wind attached to that rebreather, then you and I need to have a real heart to heart. Zhâlu I will never regret our bond. You grow past what those narrow minded, dottering old fools day by day. Minute by minute." She smirked. "I would say second by second but you can be hard headed. If there is one thing I would forbid you it would be to ever think they were right about you. They are more wrong than the whole of the Empire."

Putting a hand on his. "Without conflict there is no growth." Cora squeezed gently.

Zhâlu doesn’t reply at first, but he does return his master’s squeeze. After several minutes, he finally answers. ”Perhaps so master, but sometimes it can be hard to remember that. Many members of the Order like to remind me that it is my people who lead the charge against the Republic and Jedi Order and they like to treat me as less because I am a Pureblood. Cora, I’ve been with the Jedi for years and there are still many who remain adamant I am simply biding my time until the Empire is ready to pull a Sacking of Coruscant on Tython. Having confidence in the face of all that...It isn’t as easy as I act.”

He looks up and there’s a sadness in his eyes that didn’t usually show. ”It is bad enough that I will someday have to face my brother and sister on the field of battle and that I can no longer see my family because I choose to leave the Sith Order behind. To constantly be shown that no one will ever truly appreciate what I’ve chosen to give up...well, it hurts and it hurts deeply.”

Cora’s heart bled for Zhâlu’s sorrow. She'd been an affectionate child, much to Dominik’s chagrin, but was not sure what to do as an adult in the situation. She was torn between expressing it physically and verbally. Perhaps now is not the time to be most like Dominik and take the example of Merrian and her most recent Padawan Jaslyn.

Decided Cora embraced Zhâlu as a sister would a brother. "It would be as if I vowed to no longer heal. I may not have that experience exactly but I assure you I have a vivid imagination."

Zhâlu returned the embrace but didn’t speak, instead pushing the tears of frustration and sadness that tried to force themselves up. He didn’t have the luxury of mourning his lost family right now and wouldn’t for a long time to come. He could let that pit of emotion swallow him when the Twi’leks and his master and her family were safe. After a minute, he leaned back and smiled gently. ”I appreciate that more than I can express, Cora. But we can discuss my own emotional distress another time. What happened after I left?”

Sighing Cora sat down wearily. "We discussed his wishes. He had me promise to get Lo. That was expected. I did point out where his judgement erred. Much like your own, but you have not known me for as long as he has. So I find it understandable that you would not know my capabilities to the fullest extent. Though I did not particularly care for you threatening Sa… the Twi’lek leader. I will tell you it is not that which called my temper to the front. No it was the lack of faith and trust in my judgement."

A pang of loss echoed in her as Cora thought about Sar. Ah well no use dwelling on it. One cannot change the circumstances. Distance between us is a good thing. Nothing could have come of it anyway. Zhâlu and Dominik are right in that aspect.

Cora looked over at Zhâlu. "A Padawan and Master must trust one another Zhâlu. I have provided you with that trust. Why is it that you do not trust me?"

Zhâlu didn’t reply right away, instead opting to pull out a crystal he’d found on his venture out to hunt down, or rather attempt to hunt down, the Sith stalking them. He held it up and looked it over before offering it to Cora. ”It isn’t that I do not trust you, Master. In fact, if you’re half as skilled with a lightsaber as you are at healing, I pity the Sith who crosses you. My concern for you comes from your exhaustion and the rash decisions that can come from that. I’ve known many Jedi and many Sith who pushed themselves both to and beyond their limits, to the point where they could barely focus enough to walk from the command post to their room. And you know where those Jedi and Sith are now?”

The Pureblood allowed the unspoken answer to hang in the air for a couple of minutes before he continued. ”I trust you with my life and the life of anyone I know. You are like a sister to me. But it is in that same vein that until you have rested and done so properly, I will do my duty as your Padawan and keep you safe from those I do not know well.”

The irony of the situation was not lost on Cora as she smiled wanly at Zhâlu. "I do not suppose the irony of the situation was lost on you. Alright I concede. You are pushy."

Cora snuggled into the nest and yawned. Closing her eyes she fell asleep almost immediately.