Star Wars: Swords of the Force

[Armphid]

Ramza's eyes watched her as she undressed, her back to him. She was so beautiful, so sexy. He wanted to touch her, but even as he thought of it, bitter taste filled his mouth as he recalled that he was not the one she had last shown her body to. He couldn't see much, but what he could...the elegant lines of her back, the feminine strength of her arms, her pert ass, the back of her long, honed legs...made him ache with want and regret. When she turned around, his breath caught in his chest, his eyes taking in her taut stomach, and the generous curves and cleavage that was exposed before she finished buttoning the robe.

He knew that she meant when she referred to him being "whole again" and his pale face flushed. To be so unmanned by this...he hated it. Hated himself for it. He should be stronger than this. Should be able to pull her to him, make her giggle and moan all at once as he ravished her the way they both wanted. But his body wouldn't respond, his hands just shaking a little when he tried to make them reach for her. He just nodded, feeling shame, "You will. I didn't mean that you would agree or to speak for you, just that...that's how I want it to be someday. Someday soon."

When she asked about food, he shook his head. "I don't want to eat." Ever again, really. He had no appetite at all. His stomach however, chose that moment to loudly snarl. Ramza sighed as the gurgling roar subsided. "...Something then, I suppose."

 

[HookerBoots]

Irina smiled slightly, encouragingly, at him. "I'm in no hurry, love. Take all the time you need, and I assure you, I'll say yes." She took one of his hands and brought it to her lips gently. "Just being with you is enough, makes me more happy than I thought I could ever be. And when we . . . are together again, it'll be wonderful. I can wait."

She let his hand go, heading for the door. And paused at the door, looking at him. She hated leaving him, even for a little while, but . . . not only did she need to talk with the Jedi, but he might sleep better without her. That stung a little, but . . . she'd be back. "I'll see you a little while, love. Try and rest a little."

Out the door and down the hall, avoiding the curious expressions on the people she passed. After a little while, she realized she had no idea where she was going and stopped, sending out her awareness. Ah, there they were. Together, which was excellent. She could be sure that both of them would know what was going on, then.

Making her way through the hallways, she came to the door and knocked, feeling more sure than she thought she would. A voice from inside - Master Shahazdra - called, "Come in, Irina."

She stepped in, hesitant and a little shy. Then smiled widely when she saw them sitting at a table with the Kushiban they'd saved. She bowed to each of the humans, then to the little rabbit-woman. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have two things I'd like to discuss."

"Very well," Master Skywalker said. He gestured to an empty chair. "Please, sit down."

She settled lightly into the chair, resting her hands in her lap. "First, I'd like to formally accept your kind offer, Master Skywalker. I would be honored to join the Jedi Order." Both of the Jedi exchanged a look, his pleased, hers uncertain. But she smiled and went on. "Second, regarding my sister. Ramza and I have discussed it, and we believe that she should not return to Cholganna, given my . . . my parents' involvement in our capture."

 

[Armphid]

Ramza rolled over on the bed, sweat beaded on his forehead and face, his hair matted to his head. The blankets were strewn about the bed and the floor, the sheets half-pulled from the mattress, pillows seeming to have been thrown about the room.

Thalnos's cruel hands, like talons, pulled his organs out. Alecto carefully inspected them, discarding some, putting others in a shiny steel tray. At the end of the bench on which he lay, Irina and Darth Traya lay, making out while he was casually cleaned like a gutted deer.

Alecto lifted his heart in her hands, hefting it this way and that. "It's broken..."

~~~~~​

Luke smiled a bit knowingly. When he'd come back from the second Death Star, for a little while it had been hard to get away from Leia. Once siblings were re-united out of danger, it was difficult to want to let go soon. But her point was quite valid.

Jakara pursed her lips, "I think we can arrange for her to stay with us. We have been considering testing your sister to see if she has any of the talents you do. It tends to run in bloodlines." She looked at Master Skywalker, then continued, not caring if she as chided for this, "I want this very clear, Irina. If you come to our Academy, you are there to be a Jedi. You will learn and follow our rules and our code. I don't want anyone, even your sister, talking about the Sith way or picking up any interesting new Dark Side abilities." She didn't think the girl would do anything out of malice, but...this was a risky thing. The Academy already had enough Dark Side resonance without using Sith tricks and making it worse.

"Though she is overly concerned, Master Shahazdra isn't wrong," Luke commented. "Just undiplomatic. But I believe you will be fine, Irina, and you will be a great Jedi." He pushed a data pad to her, "Here is what we have been talking about in regards to your lodgings on Yavin. Ramza, of course, has a small suite as do many of the full knights, but given his condition, and the number of young, open, Force receptive students about, we feel it may be prudent to isolate the two of you for the time being."

 

[HookerBoots]

Irina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I assure you, Master Shahazdra, if there is one thing I can do well, it's follow rules. And I'm aware of what I will and will not be able to do as a Jedi." She crossed her legs, folding her hands together in her lap. "Of course, the Master Jedi is aware that, while my sister listens to me, I cannot control her actions or what she says. I suggest you mention it to her, during your investigations."

That was perhaps slightly too smart, but she couldn't resist tweaking the other woman's nose. Maybe, someday, they'd be able to be friends, but for now . . . this polite sparring was better than it could be. She scanned the data pad, and nodded slowly. "This seems to be a viable solution. He's been having nightmares, and no one needs to be exposed to them " Irina looked up at both of the Jedi, and smiled slightly. "Thank you both. Unless you have something else you'd like to discuss with me, I should head back to Ramza."

Luke smiled again, a little wistfully. No matter how hard a time he'd had staying away from Leia, she and Han had been inseperable after they'd destroyed the second Death Star. He was a little surprised that Irina had come here on her own, in fact. "No, if anything comes up, we'll let you both know."

"Thank you, then, Masters," she said, rising gracefully and bowing before leaving the room. She headed to the galley where they'd stopped the night before, picking up a greater assortment of food, most of it less like rations than the night before. She made her way carefully down the halls, balancing the two cups of soup, wrapped sandwiches, fresh fruit, and bottles of water. Stopping outside the door, she sighed. There was a tightly coiled center of pain and misery in the room.

She opened the door and set the food down carefully on the dresser, then went to the bed, kneeling on the floor, unsure how to wake him up without sending him into a panic like before. Sighing again, she sent her awareness to him, just touching the outside of his mind. Ramza, wake up. It's a dream, love. Wake up.

 

[Armphid]

Ramza sat bolt upright, his breath rushing out, only for him to gasp for air like a man being choked. He bent forward, his shoulders heaving, his chest rising and falling madly. His heart was hammering in his chest, her blood roaring through his veins, sweat slicked his body. His eyes were wide and wild, but not uncontrolled. "I-Irina...I heard you, I...but you were..."

He closed his eyes, gathering himself. "I'm sorry," he breathed. It was a dream. That had never happened. Well, not...not like THAT exactly, anyway. "I'm all right." Liar. "It's fine, just...nothing, just a dream." He had to be strong. had to be strong. Couldn't let her see it, she'd feel guilty, and hurt, and...

He reached out to her blindly, his eyes closed to try and keep any tears from leaking out. "I'm glad y-you're back. It feels...it feels better when you're here." He took a steadying breath, trying to get his wind back, to calm down. "What did they say?"

 

[HookerBoots]

She looked at him critically, sighing. If he wanted to insist that he was all right, then she wouldn't point out that he obviously wasn't. Instead, she squeezed him and stood, gently disengaging herself from him. "Here, start eating and I'll tell you." She handed over half the food, and took the rest for herself, settling close to him on the bed.

"Well, I told them I'd gladly join the Jedi Order," she said as she unwrapped the sandwich, "and then got a caution from your Master about my behavior when we get to Yavin 4." Her fingers picked at the bread, pulling out a crumb and eating it. "I then asked that Lizeth come with us, and was told that they were going to begin testing her for Force Sensitivity, and that she would have lodgings in the Academy."

Taking a bite of the sandwich, she chewed and swallowed quickly, amazed at the hunger she felt. "They also said that we'd have a private residence apart from students, especially the ones who haven't learned to close their minds yet, given our mental state. I looked at Master Skywalker's proposal, and I think it sounds reasonable." Another bite went down her throat, and she looked at him. "What do you think, love?"

 

[Armphid]

The brief embrace was over quicker than he might have liked, but he knew that she was right to not linger. They both needed to eat. Though, even now, he still felt no appetite. Ramza he eyed the food as Irina handed it to him. His look was almost like that of a man who had found he'd jsut stepped in dung. Though he knew it to be solely a product of his physical abuse and his mental damage, the very smell of the food made him feel sick and disgusted.

Instead to eating, he set it aside and turned to watch Irina with a soft smile at her news. "I think...that it's wise. I am...not in control of my dreams, or of sudden bursts of anxiety fear." He sighed, turning his face away in shame at his own weakness. He should be able to deal with this. Just shrug it off. Shouldn't he? "If we were near the students, a lot of them might pick it up and I wouldn't want that."

"But for the rest, I'm glad, very glad, to hear you will join us." He reached a hand over to rest on her thigh with a much broader smile. "No one would have forced you, and I hope you know that...it's not like you can't be yourself." Though some things would change. Everyone changed in the training, for the better usually. "It makes me very happy, love. And it means so very much."

Again he looked over at his share of the meal, trying to will himself to feel hunger, or even just interest in it. Shaking his head, he continued to speak, "I hope Lizeth will be happy at the Academy. She seems used to a nouveau riche lifestyle and it's occupations...and she won't find any of them, really. But...my sister Alma is there. Maybe they'll become friends."

 

[HookerBoots]

"Maybe they will," she said with a smile. "I'd like to meet your sister as well. Of course, eventually, I should meet your family anyway." Irina crumpled the sandwich wrapper and opened the soup. "I'm glad it makes you happy, Ramza. I think that once I get adjusted to it, I'll probably like it as well."

Even knowing she might hit a sore spot, she looked at him with a small smile. "Did I get the wrong thing to eat? I know you probably don't have much of an appetite, but not eating won't help, love." She placed her hand over his, and squeezed it lightly. "I won't force you to, but I don't want you to collapse because you haven't eaten."

Irina sighed and smiled more broadly, changing the topic. "The Kushiban we saved seems to be doing well. Your master and Master Skywalker were spending time counselling her when I got there."

 

[Armphid]

"No, it's fine, and I would like this normally, I just...I don't want to eat." He shook his head, "It's more than that it feels like...like my body doesn't want it. Or anything else. Like it wants...nothing. Just to starve and die." Death. The one sure cure for what ails you. It wouldn't be so bad, would it? It would be better than this terrible feeling all the time. Unable to be really happy, unable to be sad, unable to laugh, unable to cry. Unable to be anything but hurt. "...I am pathetic. Traya was right. What a miserable thing I am, even for a man."

He sighed, lowering his head, staring down at his empty hands. He should have died in the fighting. Then Irina could just mourn him and move on instead of being shackled to a broken, worthless wreck of a man. Man. He wasn't even that. A man was strong and tough. He didn't fall apart, just shrugged off pain. His woman was true...but she had been true, in her own way. Her way of being true just involved sex with other people.

He cradled his head a moment, trying to banish the thoughts. Unworthy. The thoughts were unworthy of her, as was he. Don't think of it that way. Don't think of it that way, no matter how it feels.

Ramza looked up, a fragile, forced smile on his face. "That's a comfort. She was worse used than any of us." And she was doing fine. Only he was the weak one. "I hope they can help her to recover."

The black-haired youth turned his head, again looking at the food. Ugh. He grimaced, making himself reach for and pick up the soup. He held it a moment, looking at it like it was some bizarre and mildly disgusting thing he'd found in his cellar. Then he opened it up, lifting it to his lips, tilting his head back, his eyes closing as he made himself drink.

Ashes.

It tasted like ashes.

 

[HookerBoots]

She studied him, her eyes narrowed in thought. This wasn't good. She understood, probably better than he thought, how he was feeling. Being an apprentice Sith didn't earn you a free pass from torture, after all; if you were lucky, you only got as bad as enemies did. If you weren't, anything you got was worse. She'd learned early to do as she was told without complaint. He . . . hadn't been conditioned to that, and he wasn't handling it well at all.

Waiting for him to swallow, she put a hand on the side of his neck, looking at him seriously. "Ramza, my love, you can't go on like this. You're not pathetic." Her fingers rubbed his skin lightly. "You've endured more pain - physical and emotional - than most people could imagine. I understand your body doesn't feel like anything. But remember that you control your body, it doesn't control you." She sighed heavily, looking at the sheets. "You asked me to live with you, to be with you in life. This . . . this isn't living, Ramza."

Scooting a little closer to him, she kissed his cheek. "I'll stay by your side for as long as you want me, love. But if you can't make it without me, know that I can't make it without you. If I can help in any way, I'll do it. But I wish I knew what to do."

 

[Armphid]

"I'm sorry." He failed her again. She was right, this wasn't living. This was...nothing. Worse than death. And here he was, trapping them both in it. "I know I should be able to just...I know I should be stronger. It shouldn't bother me. I should be fine. You'd be fine. Master Shahazdra, Master Skywalker, they'd be fine." The fault, the problem was him. It should be nothing. He was a Jedi, wasn't he? "I'll try harder to make this better, to make it living."

He almost felt worse now. She was so right. This wasn't living. He was keeping her down, in misery. Somehow, he had to make himself do more. Force it. No matter what.

He grimaced, drinking down the rest of the soup, chugging it down. He lowered the empty cup, wiping his mouth with the fingers of one hand. "Ah...that was...it was good." It still tasted like ash. But he wouldn't admit it. He'd force himself, make himself pretend otherwise. Maybe...maybe he could make himself believe it.

He picked up the sandwich with a determination to eat, more as an act of will, of being the one in control, than anything else. He didn't want to eat it. He hated the idea of eating it. But he unwrapped it, starting to take bites, eating quickly and trying to convince himself he was hungry after all. More ashes.

He smiled after the gorge, though it did not touch his eyes, "I feel better, I guess I was hungrier than I thought." He looked at the rest of the food, feeling his stomach lurch a bit. "Although, I think that may be all for now." Ramza looked at her, swallowing, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, sitting up straighter. "So, what shall we discuss and while the hours away with?" The tone was much the same as his old self, as was his expression, but his eyes were haunted and hollow. "I could tell you some of my stories from the Academy."

 

[HookerBoots]

She hugged him tightly, nestling her head on his shoulder. "Ramza, you're one of the strongest people I know. You lived through it, by sheer will." Her arms tightened again, and Irina took a deep breath. "I don't want you to feel like you have to force yourself to do or feel anything. But I want you to try, that's all."

Pulling back a little, she looked into his eyes. "You can't say how I or the others would be. It's not the same. You are how you are, and I love you regardless. But I want you to feel better for you, not me." Irina adjusted her position a little, and laid down with him in her arms, holding him close to her. "I'd love to hear stories from the Academy, but I also want you to be honest with me about what I can do for you, to help you with this. But we can talk about it later."

 

[Armphid]

"I..." He closed his eyes, her shoulders sagging. "I don't...know if I'm...I don't know how to get better from something like this." Her arms, her body, felt so good. So warm and safe. He looked into those loving eyes, eyes that part of his shouted had deceived him once before. "I'll try...maybe, with you, that'll be enough. Maybe."

He hugged her tightly, kissing her shoulder and then her cheek. "I don't know what you can do." That was the worst of it. He didn't KNOW how to get better. He'd lived through it all, but...now what? How was he to cope with this? To come to terms with it? "...I don't want to be like this. I want to be whole. I want to be happy with you. I want to make love to you. But I don't know how to get there again. All I feel is broken and jumbled inside, shards poking through the outside."

Ramza shook his head, hugging her close again. "I will do it, love, I will. With you, I know I will. I just...I don't know how. I don't even know where to start." He laughed then, a frustrated, but honest laugh. "But when I know, so will you. And you're doing to much for me now, love. Holding me. Believing in me. Telling me things I...I just can't believe are true right now."

He closed his eyes, holding and then releasing a great breath. "...Just lie with me now, Irina. Just hold me and stay with me. I should try to sleep, and think and dream, of our happy times."

 

[HookerBoots]

She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder with a small, sad smile. "Anything you want, love." Her smile became a little wider, and she kissed his neck softly. "Not as thought being with you is something I mind doing." Maybe it would be a good idea to talk with his Master about how to help him, or Master Skywalker. Something had to be done, though. Neither of them had any idea what to do, and it made her feel terrible, knowing that he felt that way inside.

Not that she didn't know how he felt, but he . . . had a great deal more to work past than she did. Irina snuggled closer to him, hoping that maybe she could help by being close to him, by trying to convince him again that she loved him. She didn't really believe that it could be that simple, but she hoped.

Perhaps . . . well, she would have to be more careful about her decision making from now on. It had been her choices that did this to him, though she couldn't imagine how things would have turned out had she done anything else. If she could take it back, regardless, she would. She couldn't, however, and that just meant they needed to find another way around this.

Idly, she wondered when she should go and talk with the other Jedi. Obviously, Ramza couldn't be there - he wouldn't want to ask for help, and he might be upset that she had taken the intiative. So, should she wait until he woke up and talk it over with him anyway, or wait til he got up and then go telling him she was going to talk with the others, but not what about, or leave now? She couldn't decide what would do more harm: for him to wake up with her gone, or him to wake up in a panic again because her arms were around him.

Instead, she lay there, arms around him. She wouldn't leave him, not even for this. If he couldn't get past this, then this time would be all the more special. She didn't want to give that up.

 

[Armphid]

Ramza smiled, "Right now, just hearing that is a very great comfort, Irina." He sighed, nestling close to her. He breathed deeply of her smell, pressed close, his fingers running through her hair, caressing the skin of her neck, as if he was trying to fill as many of his senses with her as possible.

He said no more, finally drifting off to sleep. He was peaceful at first, but as before, the memories came, and the memories spawned dreams. He did not thrash about or yell, but in her arms softly moaned and whispered denials, names, questions, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead. The nightmares faded too, back into slightly less fretful sleep. But after a time, they returned, and again he was tormented and tortured in his mind, his body twitching and moaning as his subconscious remembered what was done, and his mind conjured even more horrific visions to assault him with. Visions of powerlessness, of being helpless, of Irina being tortured, of Irina with Darth Traya, Irina with Darth Cynis, Lizeth torn apart, more and more terrors heaping upon his slumbering mind, only to pass back to a nervous peace...only to start again...

 

[HookerBoots]

The moans and whispers tore at her heart, and Irina tried to keep herself from crying. He was in such pain, and she couldn't help him. No matter how she tried, she couldn't help. Her arms held him close, and Irina tried to stroke his arms and back when he twitched and moaned, but . . . as he cycled through nightmares and peace and back again, she turned slightly, sighing.

He couldn't go on like this. She couldn't help enough, and if someone didn't help him, he wouldn't be able to live. She was going to have to talk to the other Jedi; she was a little surprised that no one had said anything about it before now.

Closing her eyes, trying to close her ears and heart against his misery for the moment, Irina tried to sleep. She would talk to the others in the morning - maybe send Ramza to see Lizeth, or to talk with his Master while she went to Master Skywalked about this whole thing.

 

[Armphid]

His eyes fluttered open, staring for a moment at the ceiling. Then they shut, as if wanting to block out all they saw. He could feel Irina's warmth beside him, hear her soft breathing. She must have turned in the night, to face away from him. Perhaps there was some metaphor in that.

The eyes opened, and he almost smiled. Now that was completely self serving and self-pitying. She'd rolled over in her sleep. It meant nothing. "You have enough hurts," he whispered to himself, "Don't go looking for more where there are none."

He sat up, feeling a great desire to stay abed. Stay in bed and fester. No good. "Do or do not," he muttered softly, one of Master Skywalker's common sayings. He needed rest, but lying in bed was only helping a little. He felt still trapped, enclosed, a prisoner. Worse, he was a prisoner of his own mind. His own shattered heart and feelings, his twisted memories, his hurts and damage, all clawed and bit and pulled his down.

If it kept up this way, he wouldn't make it. Through self-inflicted injury or some other method, he would die. He'd promised Irina they'd live. As much as part of him almost hungered for the release of death, for union with the Force...more of him wanted to live, and love, with her.

Ramza left the bed, trying not to disturb his slumbering love. She needed rest as much as he did. He stripped out of the simple medical tunic he'd been given when taken on ship, tossing it in a bin carelessly. After a brief sojurn in the sonic shower, he pulled on a clean brown jumpsuit. He sat down at the samll desk in the room, watching Irina sleep. He'd leave once she woke. He didn't want her to wake and find him gone...with how he was, it wouldn't look good at all.

 

[HookerBoots]

This was a dream. It had to be. Darth Cynis was dead, she knew that. But still, he laughed at her, a sickening scar around his neck evidence that he had died, but still lived, still taunted her in reality. "None of it matters, Xeres. Without him, they won't want you, and we destroyed him." The scar gaped and oozed as he shook his head in mock sympathy. "Even though he's still alive, he's not tough enough, not man enough, to make it. You know that."

She tried to stand, tried to lash out, but her hands were tied to the wall she was pressed against. Thalnos, skin pale around the burn scars from the lightening that had killed her, stepped in front of Irina and looked at her with a smirk. "He's ruined, Xeres," she said sweetly, "and it's all your fault."

Irina sat straight up, gasping and reaching for Ramza. And found the bed empty. Before she noticed him sitting at the desk, she let out a low, miserable moan, certain that something had happened . . . and then she looked around the room, seeing him. "Ramza, I . . . ." She stopped. What could she say? "I'm glad to see you." Oh, that wasn't pathetic at all.

Then she noticed how he was dressed - that he was dressed - and turned slightly, letting her feet hit the floor. "Where are you going, love?"

 

[Armphid]

"So little faith in me?" He raised his eyesbrows, looking away with a half scoff, half laugh, "Not that I blame you. I don't have much myself." Ramza looked back at her, his eyes still broken and haunted, but not as madly desperate as before. It was there, in the depths, but contained for the moment. "It seems I"m not the only one with nightmares." He reached out to touch her face, running his fingers along one fine cheek...and then pulling his hand away. "If you want to talk about it, all you need to do it say so."

He shrugged a little at her question, "I'm not sure, exactly. But I need to get out of here. I'm losing my mind, and despite having you here...this little place...it's too much like being bound again. All I am doing lying here, is festering and molding in my misery." He said it with disgust, a disgust fully directed at himself. "...So I thought I'd get out and DO something. Maybe just some exercises or sword forms, maybe meditate, maybe just walk around, but...doing something might help."

Ramza stood, "Do you want me to wait here with you a while? Or until you're ready to go as well?"

 

[HookerBoots]

She smiled, a genuine smile, and stood up, pressing a hand to his cheek. "I'm going to change quickly and go talk with Lizeth, and possibly Master Skywalker about some things for when we get to Yavin." Irina leaned forward slightly and kissed him, then stepped back. "You don't have to wait, if you don't want to. But I'd like to spend more time with you, even just a little."

Irina started to change, the stopped with the robe just off her shoulders. "And it's not that I don't have much faith in you. I . . . didn't know what had happened." The robe fell, and she sighed. "The nightmare was just bad enough to scare me. You know how it is, waking up from a bad dream." She tugged on a tunic and a pair of pants, then her boots. "If you want me to help, or exercise with you," sparring would not be a good idea, "let me know, and I'll head there after I'm done checking in with everyone."

 

[Armphid]

Ramza stared as the robe began to fall, baring her shoulders. He wanted to move behind her then, put his arms around her, kiss her, pull the robe down, and then...and then...

"I'll wait." He looked away, feeling again unmanned and weak. He should be all over her. Damn him. "When you're done, come find me. I'm not ready...I want to spar and match myself against you, but I can't. Not yet." It would be a terrible idea. There was too much buried resentment for it not to come boiling forth. Hellfire, he wasn't going to spar anyone at all right now. He was too much of a basket case. If he got hurt, even a little, even by accident, he'd lash out with all his power. He knew it. Too dangerous.

He moved up behind her while she was fastening her boots, looking at her best over form and admiring her ass. He pressed himself up against it without warning, his arms encircling her shoulders as she quickly snapped upright. Ramza said nothing, just hugged her close, then kissed her lips. "May the Force be with you, my love. I'll see you."

They parted ways, the damaged young Jedi wandering the ship for a bit. As he did so, he found others moving about, some he knew from the Academy, others were familiar faces he'd never had names for. All of them had come...for him? ...For the Sith, really. But still...it...was nice.

At last he found a cargo bay that had a space cleared. Perhaps something just hadn't been loaded, or had been moved to make room on purpose. Whatever the reason, there was an empty area perhaps 20 feet square. It was away from the vital systems of the ship, and the berths. No one came here.

It was perfect.

He lifted his arms up, stretching them to the sides, then up over his head...and he dropped, catching himself on his hands just before his face smashed into the ground. Slowly, with determination, he began to lift his body up off the ground, upright into a handstand. Sweat was beaded on his forehead as he looked at the ground, grimacing, then he flexed his arms, doing a kind of push-up-or trying to, instead tumbling to the ground. "Damn it! Again."

As the business of the ship went on, in one distant corner of the hold, Ramza Orlandau worked his body relentlessly through parts of regimens old and new. His dreams tormented him...so he would make himself so tired, he couldn't dream.

 

[HookerBoots]

She had been surprised, but pleasantly so, when he'd pressed himself against her ass and hugged her. It was a positive sign, just like his deciding to be active. Was it enough? She wasn't sure. Irina sighed after they parted, and leaned against a wall, remembering the feel of him against her just then. Different than when they held each other at night in an indefinable way. It would have to hold her over, then, until the next time he could bring himself to touch her.

Pushing off the wall with an explosive breath, she made her way through the halls. She didn't have much of a plan in mind, and would stop and speak with whichever objective she met first. And there was Master Skywalker, two doors up on the left. The man never stayed in one place, which made it an amusing game to find him. She knocked and opened the door, slipping inside with a small smile.

The Jedi legend looked up from meditating with a welcoming smile. "Irina. What can I do for you today?"

"Always want something, don't I?" she asked with a whimsical tilt to her head. "Well, this time, it isn't for me."

"You've got a lot to arrange, and it's all right. Who are we talking about, then?" Luke asked, unfolding his legs and stretching them. He gestured for her to sit, and she tucked her legs up underneath her as she sank into the chair.

"Ramza." He didn't say anything and just nodded. She swallowed, meeting his gaze with her own. "I'm concerned over his mental state. He seems better today, but he had nightmares all night, and . . . ." She looked down at her hands, twining them together. "He has no appetite, says his body feels like it just wants to . . . starve and die. Neither of us knows where to start helping him get better, and he needs help." Her eyes met his again, and she blinked, holding back the tears. He didn't need to see her cry again. "I can't help him enough. Please, is there something that you can do?"

 

[Armphid]

"Argh!"

Ramza fell with a heavy thump to the hard floor. He lay there a moment, grimacing, that had hurt...more than just his pride that time. The sweat on his brow gave it a faint sheen as he moved to his knees and hands, his chest heaving as he sought to get his breath back. "D-damn it...not even...half of what I used to do..."

Was this all he had?

No, don't think like that. He was recovering, and far from his peak, mentally and physically. He had to stay reasonable. Reason. Remember that.

"Again."

~~~​

Luke's eyes were sorrowful and sympathetic. "That sounds about right, as terrible as it is to say that." He reached out a hand to rest on her shoulder for a moment. "You're doing as much as anyone can, Irina. More than anyone, except Ramza himself can do."

The Jedi Master rose for a moment, moving to the room's small viewport and looking out at the stars. "His body's been taken near to death, over and over again. To put it simply, it's not functioning properly. Loss of appetite is common in cases like this, and given that his is so extreme...the fact that the symptoms are as well is to be expected."

Luke looked back at her, "We're going to do what we can to help. Now that he's rested, we'll start seeing about starting some kind of counseling. He's not the only Jedi who's been captured and tortured by enemies of the Order. And we'll start to get him back into the Order, into familiar routines and places. But...there's only so much we, or anyone else, can do. At this point...a lot of what happens is up to him."

"The best way to help now, Irina, is to give him a reason to do more than survive. Give him something to live for. Physical activity will help too, it will remind him that he's in one piece now, that he made it out." He coughed then, looking a bit sheepish, almost shy. "Ah...you might even want to consider...ah...some sort of amorous activity...or a "good, old fashioned seduction" as my wife might say."

 

[HookerBoots]

Irina sighed and looked at the floor. He'd given her hope, and then . . . . "He won't - can't bring himself to touch me. Not enough to do . . . that." Embarrassing topic, to be sure, but he was right. It would probably help both of them, but she didn't want to force him into anything. "I don't want to push him to do anything he doesn't want to, even if . . . ."

Luke shook his head. "Just try. If he doesn't want to, you don't have to make him, but letting him know you still want to be . . . affectionate, that way, might be just what he needs."

She nodded, sighing again. "I'll try. Thank you, Master Skywalker." She stood, smoothing her tunic over her stomach. "I hope you're right."

Luke smiled at her, then sat back down, folding his legs back into his meditation pose. "Good luck, Irina."

~ ~ ~ ~​

She made a stop before heading to see her sister, picking up some food that would keep unchilled, then making her way to where Lizeth was being quartered. She knocked on the door and walked in. "Lizzie?"

"Irina!" The younger girl stood and hugged her sister. "You look better than you did the last time I saw you."

A dim smile lit up Irina's face. "I feel a bit better." She spotted the Kushiban on the bed, and her smile brightened considerably. "I'm glad to see you two are getting along."

Lizeth nodded and sat back down on the bed, stroking the soft fur lightly. "We are. She's very sweet, but a little tense still. Nightmares."

"I can only imagine." She leaned against the door, and sighed. "Lizzie, I can't stay, I'm on my way to get Ramza, but -"

"How is he doing?" Lizeth's eyes shone with interest and sympathy. "Are you two back together, is he . . . ."

Irina sighed and shrugged. "We are back together, but he's . . . not doing well. Nightmares, depression, and worse. I'm trying to help, but I don't know if it'll help." She shook her head. "We'll see. That's not why I'm here, Lizzie. Have they started to test you for Force sensitivity yet?"

The younger girl nodded. "This morning. They're not done yet, though."

"Good, good. I'd like to . . . to have you close for a while, and since I'll be staying on Yavin 4, Master Shahazdra and Master Skywalker have offered a place for you at the Jedi Academy, regardless of your abilities. Ramza and I will be nearby, but not actually in the main part of the academy."

Lizeth looked at her sister critically, then nodded. "Can I think about it? I don't want to make a hasty choice."

"Of course, little sister. Anything you want."

 

[Armphid]

"19...20...21...22...twenty...three..." Ramza was hanging by his hands from one of the metal spars that ran along the length of the cargo hold's roof. The overalls were unzippes and pushed down, the arms tied about his waist, his chest bare and glistening with sweat. "twenty..." He grunted, pulling himself up with only his arms, doing what amounted to chin ups using the beam as a bar, "..ffour...twenty....come ooon...five!"

He fell, limply tumbling the few feet to the canvas covered stack of crates he'd climbed to grab the bar in the first place. "Uff!" He was able to roll with the impact, dispersing most of the force. Most. "Nnn...going to feel that in the morning."

He was tired. So tired. He hadn't exerted himself this much without adrenaline since being captured. On the ship, he'd wrapped himself in the Force, and had the benefit of adrenaline. Now, making his body work and go through it's paces, was far more grueling than he cared to admit. It made sense though. Essentially, he'd been taken apart and put back together three times...that would leave some marks.

Marks...there weren't any on his body, actually. No visible sign any of it had happened. But when he ran his fingers down his chest...he could feel the cuts, the lines dug out of his flesh. As though they were there right now, raw, bleeding, open, pulsing-

"No, don't." He shook his head, forcing himself to his feet. Don't. Stop it. Stop reliving it. He couldn't stop reliving it. Ramza cradled his head in his hands a moment, his back bent as he fought off the flood of images, or memories, of remembered pain that was so vivid as to be real. "Stop it, damn you! Stop!" He clenched his teeth, "Gggah!"

He burst into a run, leaping off the stack of crates and into the empty air. His body's fear response kicked in, and the surge of hormones sent the hurt flying away to the recesses of his mind. His legs kicked in the air, still running. Now all he had to worry about was killing himself, since he was about 30 feet up. He reached out with the Force, throwing himself forward violently, his hands reaching out to catch a hanging crane cable. He grabbed hold, swinging himself into it, the bound metal of the cable wobbling back and forth as it absorbed his velocity. He curled himself around it, legs gripping, panting again as he rested his head against the cool metal. "Cuh...crazy...fucker." He laughed, a short, bitter sound, "So, don't want to go insane, risk my life...okay. Yeah, I can do that everyday."

Damn it. Was there nothing else? Nothing else to hold it all back? To let him deal with it bit by bit instead of all at once?

Ramza slid down the cable to the hooked end of it, dangling perhaps 7 feet from the floor. He hopped down, landing heavily in a three point crouch.