Investigation

[echo_of_a_jedi]

Who: Meetra "The Exile" Surik and OPEN to any night owls or demons out there.
Where: Pisces and Gemini Districts
Summary: Meetra meets and greets the demonic populace of the city and maybe finds some trouble checking out the Mictlan.
Warnings: Even on a New Moon, risk of demonic violence.
[Pisces District, 11 pm]

One rumor Meetra had picked up that actually sounded consistent was...well, it was that one about the new book that she'd picked up earlier in the day and stashed in her room for recreational reading later. But more importantly, she'd heard that on the night of the New Moon (a local darkening of most of the reflected light from the local, large, tidally-locked and brightly reflective satellite), the local demons were more docile and conversational than normal. Thus, late at night, she headed out of the apartments to find trouble. Well, hopefully not trouble, but rather demons to chat with. They couldn't be any more hostile than, say, anyone else she'd met in the last few months, and she was interested in the perspective of the local aliens.

She'd heard one more thing, though, which is why her course wandered in a particular direction...

[Gemini District, 13th Hour]

"That's certainly something," said the slightly awestruck Exile on seeing the huge convoluted bloody pile that had replaced the mountain that presided over the city up close. And she had thought Malachor V looked awful...this was as if someone had thrown it, Korriban, and Nar Shadaa in a mixer...without removing the people from the latter. After a moment to appraise it, she heads toward the border of 'Mictlan', lightsaber in hand but unlit. Maybe the demons there would be chatty tonight, too...or maybe she'd just be doing some recon in force around the edges. Either way, she was prepared.

Comments

[greyerrant]

He pauses, briefly, hunched over as he drags his latest kill into the darkness. He waits for Meetra there, on his haunches, almost like a wolf hovering over slain meat. His helm's red eye sockets blaze as he stays still, the only sound the recycled air exhaled by his helmet, and a very low buzz of the power pack. He is clearly inviting her to talk at length, taking a moment away from his upward climb to speak with her, even as the combat knife is held in an overhand, slasher's grip.

[echo_of_a_jedi]

Meetra approaches, cautiously and quietly. She had spotted a few other demons around, but they hung back or disappeared into the shadows. On closer assessment, it might be that Cerberus was the scariest thing here tonight.

"Evening," she said quietly, standing back out of 'knife' range just in case.

[greyerrant]

Another armored figure is in the room, coalescing as if from nothing at all. His armor is sea-green, and somewhat different than Loken's. Where the grey armored warrior is clad in a helm, this man is barefaced, and sports an amused smile. Loken finally speaks, quietly,
"Can you see him?"

[echo_of_a_jedi]

"I can," Meetra said, levelly. "Your Persona? He resembles you...well, you know what I mean."

[greyerrant]

"I see only the ghost of my dead brother." There is something like pain in his voice, and his stance. He clearly wasn't expecting this.

[echo_of_a_jedi]

"Ah."

...

"This means he's watching over you, doesn't it?" she asked. She'd heard about things like this before. Rumors of Jedi whose personalities persevered rather than submerging into the Force, to watch over and advise their loved ones.

Of course, there had been plenty even among the Jedi who were sure that this was a hoax, or a Sith technique, but still...could a Persona be such a thing, here, in this galaxy?

[greyerrant]

"I think it simply means I am mad."

he looks over at Meetra. "And that my madness is shared, or somehow manifest."

[echo_of_a_jedi]

She shook her head firmly, with authority. "You're a scary man, Cerberus, but you don't feel mad. Personas, demons...this whole place is thick with something very much like the Force. Everyone here seems to have their own strange connection to it. I think this...image is yours, born from your memory."

It was just a theory, but it made more sense than mass hallucination.

[greyerrant]

"This is difficult for me to accept. I am blunt to the warp, I know this from prior experience. But perhaps it is simply an echo of a memory."

He looks to the figure in green.

"The last memory of a friend. That is how I remember him smiling, before the end."

[echo_of_a_jedi]

Meetra nodded. "Everything we do and everyone we meet leaves a mark on us...an echo, as you said," she agreed, linefacing slightly over the universe's continued predilection for that word. "When we carry part of someone forward with us as a memory, they become a part of who we are. That's what Persona is, supposedly...a part of who we are."

[greyerrant]

"I would say a scar, rather than a mark."

He glowers at the implication that the Persona is something he should accept.

"It seems sorcerous and wrong to me. I see a ghost, and I know that such things are trickery, or something worse. I worry about becoming corrupt, or straying from the secular Imperial Truth."

[echo_of_a_jedi]

"The Force...or whatever this is...is as evil as we make it, Cerberus. It is power, and power can corrupt, but it ultimately comes down to our choices," the Exile explained, echoing a lifetime of experience. "The difference between the Light and the Dark isn't a line down the middle, it's how and why..."

She trailed off, putting a hand to her head. She felt a strange pressure, a buzzing, and...pain. When she thought about it, she felt pain a lot. Not the pain itself, but echoes. Her pain, other peoples' pain, a planet's pain, all bouncing around in a void with--

Her thought process was derailed and efficiently killed by a split second of splitting headache, and the Exile clutched her head and whirled around to face an apparition of her own. When she looked up at the image, though, a wave of relieve and serenity washed over her, psychic connection to...well, herself...washing away the pain of a connection to a hurting other, for now.

I am thou, and though art I.
From the sea of memory and the echoes of your past,
I am Vima Sunrider

Meetra's one-time mentor smiled down at her for a brief moment before saluting the space marine and his persona, then disappeared.

The Exile stood dumbfounded for a second. Several, really. She was about as sure as she could be that this wasn't how this was supposed to happen, and had a sinking feeling she knew why. Still, though, this meant she could fight here, as well as she could back home...

[greyerrant]

"I have heard such words before, I have seen where it has led..."

He grunts, as she clutches her head, stepping forward to steady her with the hand not holding the bloody knife.

"It would seem I am not the only one haunted, then."

[echo_of_a_jedi]

Meetra recovers quickly, especially once the armored hand is there, forming a physical connection. A surprisingly non-violent one, at that.

"Haunted? I'm pretty sure Master Vima isn't dead yet, unless she was on Katarr and no one mentioned it," she said, looking at where the image had been. She definitely did feel different...normally, opening herself up to the Force let her sense a new part of the Universe, but this felt more like she'd discovered a new part of herself. Which was weird in that it was the shape of an old teacher. But if Persona are legendary people...well, Meetra supposed she knew a few legends.

"As I was saying, though...the Force exists, and denying it won't make it go away, trust me," she said, straightening up. "If you're connected to it, even if just through a 'Persona', understanding is safer than fear."

[greyerrant]

"I fear nothing!" He almost snarls. "And I do not deny that the warp exists, that there is a power within it. But it is not one I will accept in myself, or use. It would debase me, and the truth that I represent."

Still, it doesn't look like he's going to stab her. After a moment, he lets go, and cleans his knife, sheathing it.

[echo_of_a_jedi]

And conversations like this were why she had been ecstatically happy that Mandalore was the one living person on her ship who didn't even have a hint of Force sensitivity. Although at least he would have had a sense of humor about it.

Meetra took a deep breath and visibly relaxes, stepping away from Cerberus and turning to face him properly again. "That's your decision, Cerberus. I'm only even guessing that this is an aspect of the Force, or your Warp, in the first place. Your commitment to your beliefs is commendable, but don't ignore something, even if you hate it," she cautioned. "I've seen too many good, devoted people die because they refused to look at what they didn't want to see."

[greyerrant]

"Even if I were capable of such things, the edict of Nikea is clear, I mustn't use any such abilities even if I have them. It would be tantamount to sorcery and a betrayal of what I believe. It is bad enough Tarik haunts me, to use him as a weapon would be.... unconscionable."

[echo_of_a_jedi]

She nodded, understanding the awkwardness when he put it like that.

"It is entirely your choice," Meetra said. "I just want you to be careful. We are on the same team here, and you seem like a decent soldier."

Her...memory, she supposed? Was that what these were, for them?...of Vima echoed around in her own mind. She would need to meditate on this to make sure her own powers were stable. And to make sure she didn't accidentally draw anything else from Cerberus.

"I should probably leave now. I'm not quite sure what to do with my own Persona."

[greyerrant]

Loken shifts, as if amused by her description of him as a "decent soldier." If nothing else, even the humblest Astartes has pride in being a god-slayer.

"I'll cover your withdrawal."

He readies his combat blade once more.

[echo_of_a_jedi]

"Thank you, but I have the feeling the demons are more scared of you than I am of them," Meetra said, looking around. Indeed, the outer hallways of this...thing seemed even quieter than when they had arrived. "I appreciate it, but don't go out of your way to kill anything on my account."

With that, she puts her hood up and leaves with the light step and faint brush of robes that characterized a Jedi who other things didn't want to see.