2017.11.26. 20:43, Laerthel
Warning: bits and pieces of strong language, especially in the second one.
Prompt 30: Crossing the Line
'Exercise'
“The key is just systematic breathing, really,” said Jyn, and folded her hands in her lap. She wished she could hide the trembling of her voice – this moment was honestly just too important, and she was very close to letting it slip in the most unceremonious manner possible.
“The key is just being fit to do this, which I am not.”
Ben was looking up at her, still half-sitting half-lying in the shade, his back against the temple’s wall. The filtered light of Yavin painted light green stripes on his robes. (Still a padawan’s robes. Many wondered how was that even possible with such raw talent, such power, such inclination to the Force’s curious ways… such wordless understanding).
“Brother…,” Jyn closed her eyes, and swallowed, the secret of her power sliding tamely down her throat. She had tried to tell him so many times. That, or to imply it. To suggest it… but Ben Solo’s mind was a sealed temple, a bottomless well, so closely folded into itself, so watchfully guarded that his defences veiled his own perceptions; and while he could see through most people, his own sister remained an enigma to him.
If he only knew all the secrets she guarded…
(If he only knew that Mother and Master Luke were twins – seriously, how could she not see it sooner? – or that Anakin Skywalker was - )
“Meditation is just not for me, Jyn. It won’t help. I need action.”
“Action can be dangerous. It makes you reckless.”
“Yeah, yeah. Heavens above, just don’t let anything happen to me…! Anything interesting! What a horror!” Ben laughed, and Jyn could not remember the last time his face seemed so jovial. “Really, sis, I’m all right. My head is just full sometimes.”
Full of crap, Jyn thought. Of course, Ben could not hear that, either. He was too preoccupied with himself; it was not hard to discern the subtle movements underneath the thick shell he had locked himself into. Oh, and there were movements; it was even fascinating to watch them from afar.
“What your mind lacks is fresh air,” Jyn suddenly said. “You’re too guarded. Your thoughts and ideas deform on their own, being made into something that never existed. Imagine locking yourself into a room with a holoscreen, and watching the same images over and over for years. Never going out, never talking to anyone, never doing anything. You’ll just go crazy, you’ll start to see things in those pictures that aren’t there. You will start imagining things, project your life onto them.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
Oh, you wouldn’t sound suddenly so defensive if you didn’t.
“I’m just saying you’re a pure egoist,” said Jyn with a grin. This was not the moment for grand orations, she could just let this slip. (She supposed).
Prompt 53: Hatred
/ takes place roughly at the same time as 'The Force Awakens' /
'Carried Away'
She was facing a First Order pilot: that much was sure; but the tall, grumpy-looking man wasn’t about to make this easy for her. Her crew could seem most persuasive when need arose, but no questioning, no threatening and not even beating could get the tiniest piece of information out of this particular individual, which has led Jyn to the most uncomfortable situation of having to quit the cockpit and question the fool herself.
Oh, how proud would you be, Grandfather!
She let a sardonic sigh slip as she slid into the chair that faced the captive’s. Years ago, she would have used these few precious, silent seconds to persuade herself that she was fighting for a greater good – the survival of her crew – and that she would not cross the lines of absolute necessity. Such vacant formalities were no longer needed: she knew that she was planting fear, irrational fear, into a human being’s heart. Said human being was possibly helpless – lie – serving the Order only to protect his family – excuse – buying Snoke’s and Kylo Ren’s propaganda – pathetic – or something else… there could be so many unexplored circumstances, so many possible implications to this man’s actions…
Not that she could bring herself to care about any of them.
“I understand that you haven’t told my men anything,” She said with grudging acknowledgement. “They’re starting to wonder if you’re mute.”
“Let them,” said the pilot with a wry smile. “I have nothing to say to you or your lot.”
“Apart from blowing the whistle on us as soon as you leave my ship.”
“I am a soldier in an army. I am on a mission, and I have duties to attend. What would you expect?”
“Nothing else than sharp and swift betrayal,” Jyn decided she would smile back, as emptily and mockingly as the man did. “This is all very simple then, isn’t it? The only way I can assure the safety of my crew is to kill you.”
“Quite probably.”
“You seem to accept that more than willingly. Is life so full of shit when one works for a dictator?”
“As I have said, pirate,” the man answered, his voice just as flat as before, “I am a soldier on a mission.”
“And I am a smuggler,” said Jyn.
(She didn’t know why would she say such a thing. She was, in fact, a pirate).
“I see no difference.”
“Then I shall teach you. A pirate would start playing with you now, devising the cruellest way possible to kill you. Pirates are into that stuff. I, however, am a smuggler, so I shall keep this swift and quiet. Really, I just see your execution as a trade agreement that went horribly wrong. You have no idea how many of your fellow soldiers on a mission are helping me, because they hate your shitlord and the Knights of the Pussies. It’s a shame, really… you seem a reasonable fellow. Anyway, you have heard me – a pirate would torture you. I’ll just knock you out in space to freeze. You might reach Mon Calamari in a few months – not that you’ll be in a state to appreciate the view.”
“That is all? I thought you would tear my tongue out so I couldn’t tell anyone about you… and cut my hands off, too, so I couldn’t write…”
Was this man playing with her, just there and then?
“There are several cleverer ways to get information out of someone’s brain, and only a couple of those involve the Force,” Jyn shrugged. “Also, why bother? Listen, I’ll even let you choose direction… not that they matter very much this far down the Galaxy’s ass.”
Her threats fell flat on the lathy pilot; but suddenly, for the first time since she’d addressed him, she could see open interest in his eyes.
“Why do you hate the First Order so much? They gave us something we’ve been lacking since the Empire… stability. Security. No more little systems waging war against each other. No more struggles in the Senate. No more daily threats of civil war… And the Knights of Ren are the guardians of that stability.”
“Luke Skywalker was your guardian,” Jyn hissed, feeling quite ready to hit this man, to tear him into trembling pieces; but the name, her master’s name had a weight to it – a weight that held her hands. “He and his Jedi… before Kylo Ren betrayed and killed them, and burned the Temple of Yavin to the ground…”
And then, she cracked.
There were curious waves and sparkles in the Force as she unleashed it upon the soldier, filling his mind with vivid images, memories that were still so fresh, so painful she could have wept if she still had tears.
We were our guardians, she said with her mind, I, and my master, and the Jedi. And you have betrayed us, you have betrayed our memory.
“No,” the man whispered in a crackled voice, a feverish light in his eyes. “You’re lying. You’re no Jedi. Jedi never torture people.”
“WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THE JEDI, YOU WITLESS PIECE OF SHIT?!”
~ ~ ~
Afterwards, she had spent hours looking at the corpse, with the faintest of remorses tugging at her heart. (Its claws had abraded, as it seemed).
At least he could have been wrong, she thought.
She was no Jedi. Not anymore…
And she saw it before it was there – or one might rather say that she felt it. Looking in the mirror was an unnecessary verification: it was unmistakeably there in her eyes -
Just the faintest shade of yellow.
AJÁNLOM AZ OLDALT
rajzolni tudó egészségügyes vagyok. Roxforti házam a Griffendél, törp vagy hobbit lennék, mintsem tünde, Jedi lovagnak meg irtó béna, és a Narniába vezető utat a sok holmim torlaszolja. Szeretek olvasni, bár időm kevés van rá. Kedvenc hobbim a bonyolult családfák készítése és a karaktertervezés. Szereplőim nagy része családtagok, barátok, ismerősök, ellenségek és az utca emberéről lett mintázva.
