[ open rp ]

[inquisitorium]

[ text * brackets * prose * memes ]

Comments

[throughthedarkness]

A question Cere has asked herself time and again these past days, and a reminder she often tells herself in the amorphous unreality of the moments just past waking -- when nightmares of the past and what could have been still cling as unwelcome cobwebs. The reminder that this is real is far easier to take solace in now, however, than it had been the first time she'd left Nur. After all, this time, she hadn't left Trilla behind. She cannot undo the past, and if Trilla never forgives her for how badly Cere failed her, then... so be it. But now that she - now that they both have this chance, Cere means to help however she can.

"Yes, this is real," Cere echoes, nodding. However, she pauses before giving any more of an answer, her gaze finally sliding away from Trilla's eyes to some unknowable point in the middle distance as she collects her thoughts.

She has had plenty of time to think about i in the time since, of course, but putting everything into words - into coherent words - is another matter entirely. Much of what Cere remembers a series of lurid snapshots connected by a blur of adrenaline, and even then, a haze of emotions and out of sequence memories of the first time she'd survived Nur makes it all muddy and hard to sort through. BD-1 has been helpful, of course, in relaying what he bore witness to, but the droid had been at Cal's side, not hers, and therefore missing moments remained. Still, what she could piece together would have to do.

"The short version is a combination of Cal's quick thinking, and Merrin's talent for teleportation -- followed by a lot bacta, Magick, and some help from the Force." The Trilla Cere remembers was rarely satisfied by cursory answers, though, so after giving her a moment to digest this, Cere continues, "The long version, however..."

"He," she begins and then stops for a moment, thinking she should have just said his name. She should have just said Vader. He has no power here, and avoiding his name only gives the fear and the fury a foothold for the future. So she starts again, willing her voice to be steady:

"Vader was more concerned with retrieving the holocron from Cal than dealing with you or me. I could still feel you there, alive, so when he left in pursuit, I climbed back to the platform and did what I could to stabilize you before carrying out." Their bond as Master and Padawan may have long since been utterly shattered, but enough remains in the jagged edges that Cere would have known if Trilla had died. Of that, she is certain. "We rejoined Cal in the underwater tunnels to make our escape. Vader caught up with us again. Cal was injured, and I..."

'I nearly lost myself to the Dark Side again,' catches in her throat, and Cere pauses again. She had been so afraid of losing both Trilla and Cal, then, and she had been so very angry, so full of hatred for everything Darth Vader had done to them, had done to her. Everything the Empire had taken and twisted. But she shakes herself out of the memory, pressing onwards.

"I held off Vader long enough for Cal to break the tunnels, and then we escaped into the water. Luckily, he had a spare rebreather, so you avoided inhaling too much seawater. Merrin teleported us back to the ship, and since then, like I said. A lot of bacta. A bit of Merrin's brand of assisted healing, and some of mine."

Cere finally looks at Trilla properly again, understanding that's a lot to take in just after one's woken up from days of recovering from life-threatening injury. Perhaps she should have stuck with the short and simple version...

[inquisitorium]

It is a lot to take in, so much that Trilla finds herself wondering if she was wrong after all, if this is some strange fever dream that she's invented with which to distract herself from the monotony of dying. She cannot yet comprehend that she might be allowed to live after everything, but this is a strange enough diversion to cause her to want to know more. Her curiosity has remained intact, at the very least.

It takes her a few moments to piece together some manner of sense all the same, her brow furrowing as she works it out.

"Magick... you have a Nightsister."

Trilla had somehow missed that part, much to her annoyance. Where had they been keeping a Nightsister all this time? Why was a Nightsister of Dathomir helping two Jedi in hiding?

She has approximately a dozen more questions to ask as soon as she can manage such complexities as sitting up. For now, at least one more has already been answered, but it seems worth confirming anyway.

"Cal Kestis survived, then."

She's not sure if she's disappointed or relieved. Her emotions surrounding her replacement are too complex a knot to untie when she's still not sure how she feels about having lived to contemplate it.