Who: Meetra Surik and Seivarden Vendaai Where: The Bureau When: Wednesday (backdated) What: Their first shift Warnings: Some talk of war, the events of Malachor V
Although Seivarden had been immediately made wary of the leadership at the base, she had already started making some friends amongst her coworkers. Thankfully, one of them was her shift partner, Meetra Surik. They’d had one training session already, but it was now their first shift. Seivarden arrived at the base at midnight feeling confident and assured, because this was the kind of job where she belonged. Military life had always suited her, even the boring parts.
It could even be said, at this point, that she did better with the boring part than the bursts of action, if they put her under emotional stress. But that would only be a problem here if someone like Anaander Mianaai showed up, and if that happened, it was very important that Seivarden was here and able to handle the situation quickly. And there were a few people she was hoping would come through the portal, that she might be able to be the first to see.
There had not been a lot of time for conversation during training. Not the kind of conversation Seivarden would have liked to have, anyway, not while they were being overseen by the leader that Seivarden didn’t trust. Not that having conversation anywhere on the base was necessarily private -- Seivarden knew it was safest to assume that someone or something was always watching, even though the base didn’t have an AI -- but they had 6 hours ahead of them with almost nothing to do but talk.
When she arrived, she smiled and greeted Meetra and T3, then proffered a large flask, along with which she’d brought two bowls. “I brought plenty of tea,” she said. “In the Radch we drink tea in bowls, so -- I brought those, too.”
She considered T3, then asked, “You don’t drink tea, do you?”
--
It could be argued Meetra was too used to taking orders, or going with the flow. When she’d heard of the new training she’d shrugged and put it in her calendar. Things like that happened often, and she’d shed her role as General too well to really argue about it, even if the person who was offering the training reminded her of a Mandalorian. Probably, more likely the Mandalore. They shared the same sort of brusqueness, the same sort of ‘this can be better’. She’d noted the others who’d complained but it was honestly also a good idea. On her part, because she’d spend the last few weeks, ever since she’d taken the job actually, on her own. She’d need to get used a different person, and how they fought if it came down to it.
The exchange of tea was an offer so that the person she’d spend the long, quiet, hours with would be someone she could get along with. And she was unwilling to open the avenue of Force bonds. That had to be a choice. And while she’d only had one training session with Seivarden so far they seemed to get along.
She greeted Seivarden with a bow, T3 offering exited beeps. Meetra never saw a problem with bringing T3 along, especially because T3 had defensive capabilities of his own, and until people offered complaint he’d accompany her as long as he liked to do so. At the question T3 shook his domed head. Smiling Meetra set a hand on her friend’s head. “He doesn’t. And thank you.” She leaned down and picked up the extra cup of tea she’d bought and offered it. “Exchange, as promised.” ---
“Thank you,” Seivarden said, meaning it. She bowed in return -- to both of them, as she would to an equal -- and then accepted the tea with her grey-gloved hands.
She lifted the cup to her nose and inhaled the steam. She was relieved that although it smelled different from the tea she was accustomed to, it actually smelled appetizing. Much better than fermented bov milk, though that was a very low standard to beat. Before taking a sip, she poured a bowl of tea for Meetra, leaving the second one empty. She’d brought the bowl specifically for T3, just in case, but for the future, she would probably use that extra bowl for herself. This flask of tea was specifically for her new friends - though since T3 wasn’t drinking, there might be some left over for her later. Or not; she wasn’t counting on it.
“I’m sorry you don’t drink tea,” she said to T3, but warmly. “Would it be harmful to your… workings? Because you are welcome to try some, if it wouldn’t hurt you. That bowl was intended for you.” She took a sip of her own cup of tea instead, and hummed under her breath, pleased. To Meetra, she said, “This is delicious.”
--
Meetra didn’t quite have enough words to be able to say how grateful she was Seivarden was treating T3 like his own person. T3 hadn’t quite gotten there yet, but with enough help Meetra knew that he’d find his own self. She’d equate it to children, except T3 had had enough life experience he wasn’t quite a child. Youth, finding it’s own legs. Maybe. She took the bowl and sipped from the tea. It was different but she’d spend half her life as a Jedi, and the other half as military. She’d learned quickly to accept anything that was edible. And this was pretty good.
T3 meanwhile rolled to the left over bowl and with one of his tools, the one he’d use to grab things, picked it up and seemed happy enough to just carry it around. Meanwhile he chirped, and Meetra waited, patient, until he was done. “He says he can’t. He’s not designed for tea. Oil, sure. Tea’d probably hurt his wiring. Some droids could, the one’s that are designed to be more humanoid looking. “ She’d heard of that, at least. When T3 beeped again she smiled. “No. You can’t give some to HK, he’s not designed for it either.”
She bowed her head to the words. “Glad you like it.” And because she wasn’t too great at casual conversation she added; “should ask though, anything I should know that you can’t, or choose not to, eat or drink?” It was a simple enough kindness, to ensure that she’d never bring Seivarden something they wouldn’t enjoy, or couldn’t eat. --- Seivarden did not yet understand the chirping, but she listened to it carefully. It still meant nothing to her, but paying the droid the respect of listening meant that it would hopefully talk to her more often. She only looked up at Meetra for the translation, and then turned her smile back towards T3. “Well, you can still have the bowl, if you like it,” she offered.”Otherwise, I’ll find you a better gift. We might have some kind of oil around that would suit you.”
She lifted the cup to her lips again and sipped it as she considered the answer to the question. “Honestly? I’m not very adventurous about food, but I haven’t always had much choice in the matter. So there’s really very little I won’t eat, if I’m hungry. And I’m still figuring out what I like in terms of Earth food, so if there is something you’d like to share, I’d be willing to try it.”
Because this was a partnership, and they were still getting to know each other, she asked, “What about you?” She was glad that Meetra didn’t seem to find it impolite that she’d asked that of the droid first. After all, the droid was a partner here too.
--
T3 seemed happy enough to hold the bowl, and Meetra was happy enough that he seemed to find more things to be curious about. The more he did that, the closer he’d get. At least that was the hope. Meetra had never been with a droid for long enough for them to become. She’d always treated the droids in the army with respect, and those after as well but she’d been transient for too long. T3 was the only one who’d been with her the longest, and she could argue it was because he still wanted her help. But considering they couldn’t get off planet to go collect Revan, she’d do what she could to help him on his way to becoming. So she smiled when he chirped a thanks.
She nodded to the explanation and filed it away. “Much the same. I was taught to eat whatever was available, and to go without if it was needed. Military life just kind of expanded on that. Been here for some time now though, can give you a list of what’s around here. Tried most things before the town changed, going through what I missed.” After all, she didn’t have the Jedi to frown at her for doing so. They’d argue that it wasn’t necessary. But she could have her little joys.
She nodded to the door behind where the portal sat. “Anyone you’re looking for?” Technically it’d be against protocol to allow people time, you were supposed to get them straight to documentation and the doctors, but she’d bend and broken rules before. Making sure that people were afforded some time to greet those they cared about, when she could, wasn’t really the worst she’d done. And to her, they would deserve that. ---
“Most of what we ate in the military was skel,” Seivarden said, wrinkling her nose just a little. “A plant that contains all the nutrients a person could need. It’s not awful, but it does get… boring. But, we do have quite a bit of perishable food on Station, and many fewer people to eat it, so you’d be welcome to try Radchaai food, if you’re interested.” She nodded. “And I would definitely take a list of Earth food to try. There’s more variety here than I’m used to.”
Seivarden looked at the door to the portal, the one she had come through not very long ago. Without really realizing it, she had lowered the tea to a neutral holding position, arm bent at approximately ninety degrees, the tea itself momentarily forgotten as she thought about home, the people back there. Was she looking for someone in particular?
“I haven’t been here long enough to miss anyone too much yet, but… there are people I’d like to see,” she said finally, “People I wouldn’t mind seeing, and some people I really don’t want to see.” It wasn’t a topic she particularly wanted to linger on, since she would either end up missing Ekalu, or worrying about what they would do if Mianaai showed up here. “I don’t know what the chances are of any of that happening.”
--
She knew that reaction, that tone. Plenty of her soldiers had complained, now and again, at the blandness of rations. It seemed like that was a cross universe thing. It made her smile. “Rations seem to be similar everywhere. But I’d be grateful to try Radchai food.” the one advantage of a big universe had been the ability to try new things, and one of the things she’d been taught that sometimes, the easiest way to cross diplomatic channels was via the local cuisine. “I’ll get you a list, next shift.”
“It’s got a will,” she gave, almost casually. “Much like the Force. And the same sort of sense of humor.” She studied the door. “Keeps sending me people from where I’m from. Just the when that keeps being the issue. Keep hoping though.” She wanted to see Atton again. Revan. Mical. But there were people here she was forming bonds with. It was enough. “As for the not wanting, well. Plenty of those.” She glanced to T3 and paused for a while “T3, show Seivarden Nihilus please.”
T3 hesitated a moment before bringing up the holoimage. “If he shows, don’t engage.” She looked at Seivarden, meeting eyes. “We’ve trained. You’re good. Nihilus is…” she paused again, reflecting. “Something else. Don’t know, rightly, if I can stop him, as I am now.” She’d only been able to because she’d grown stronger from all the death. Seeing she avoided that now, the only advantage there’d be would be that like her, he’d be without power. “If he shows. Get help. He kills for power. Feeds on death. Get anyone you can. He can’t leave this building. He does, he’ll start killing without discretion.”
She looked at the image and went more neutral. Nihilus could easily be her. He was her, in many ways. “And when he kills, he gets more powerful. And Seivarden, he’s not someone you can detain. If he gets past me, if it ever goes down like that make sure the others know that. Whatever he used to be, all he has now is his hunger.” In her worst nightmares, the mask always went off to show her own eyes. Nihilus was her fault, and so her responsibility. ---
Seivarden listened, comparing the information about the portal to what she had already seen. A sense of humor? Perhaps that meant it understood what Seivarden was to Breq, not the person she really wanted -- she didn’t really have any of those anymore, except perhaps Mercy of Kalr -- but sometimes the person she needed.
But she didn’t have a chance to even decide if she wanted to say something, because Meetra was continuing, and Seivarden’s attention was immediately caught by the importance of it. She looked at the picture.
“Ominous,” she commented. She tilted her head, considering the picture and the information connected to it. “Well, calling for help quickly is easy with my comms. And if somehow I die so quickly I can’t even send a message, Station and Breq will know immediately. They will also know what I saw before I died, and Station already knows about this conversation.” Her brow furrowed a little. “But I’m not good at staying out of a fight. I can let you take… him,” she paused at the use of the pronoun, then continued, “First, but if you can’t take him down, someone else will have to try. And I’ll be closest.”
--
Meetra didn’t really like that thought but in the end, it wasn’t really her call. If Nihilus got past her, it’d be the next in line to take care of it. And she couldn’t make the choice to not run from anyone, even if she disagreed. “Alright. But I am serious. He can’t be reasoned with. You’re an obstacle to him. The lack of powers will throw him off, but it would make it more pressing for him to get out.”
She waved a hand, “know it’s ominous, but he’s my fault and he’s a concern. He’s the worst thing that can come out of my time.” She sighed, “not much scares me. Seen a lot of terrible things. Done some, too. He’s part of it, and he scares me. It’s unlikely he’ll show, but I’ve lived long enough to know that being prepared for even the unlikeliest event tends to have you live longer. And while I did kill him, time here flows odd. People who died can walk again here.”
She tried for a smile, “sorry. Don’t mean to get so, “she shrugged not finding the right word, “on your first shift. In some ways, being Jedi sticks with you. Tends to make you all grand and ominous always thinking of the worst of it.” ---
“I understand,” Seivarden said, seriously. “I’ll be as annoying of an obstacle as I possibly can. To give other people more time to get here.”
She was still listening, taking all of it in, and she knew Station was listening too. Station was always listening, especially since it only had Seivarden and Breq to listen in on, at least directly. And she suspected that Station might be showing Breq what was happening, even if Breq hadn’t been listening at precisely that moment, but given it was Seivarden’s first shift at the military and Breq was interested… she might well be watching too.
She gave Meetra a wry smile. “It may be my first shift here, but it’s far from my first shift ever.” That shift hadn’t gone so well, in retrospect, but there were 30 years of military experience between that moment and Seivarden now. And 1000 more years in suspension, but Seivarden hadn’t been conscious during that time. “I can handle bad news. And I would rather have the warning.”
She paused, then added, “While we’re on the subject, there’s someone from my home that… is less physically dangerous, perhaps, than Nihilus, but nevertheless is a threat to everyone here. Her name is Anaander Mianaai.” Silently, she requested a picture from Station’s memory, and a moment later, her tablet buzzed. “She has many bodies of different ages, and I don’t know which one she will arrive in. Unfortunately this is the only age I have a picture of, but… they all look similar.”
Turning the tablet, she showed Meetra the picture that Station had sent her, a picture of the Anaander Mianaai who had taken up residence on Athoek Station in the governor’s office. It was a young version, younger than twenty, a dark-skinned person who looked relatively normal (at least compared to Nihilus) -- but, Seivarden realized belatedly, might look male to Meetra’s eyes. And Seivarden had called her by the female pronoun.
-- “Appreciate that. He’s the most dangerous one this portal could spit out. There’s two others but Sion...he wouldn’t live through the trip, he’s too broken for it. Kreia…” she paused, the betrayal still all too fresh in her mind. Kreia had been the first person she’d learned how to trust again, and had been a mentor. She still didn’t understand the why of it all. “Just don’t listen to her if she shows. She looks harmless. Old. It’s a trick. She’ll tell you what you want to hear, convince you she’s on your side and doesn’t mean harm. She very much does. But she can be talked down. Given a chance. Just don’t believe her.”
She’d noticed that, but being from a wide galaxy herself, every people had their ways. This was Seivarden’s. It wasn’t really odd to Meetra. “Any signs that might point towards it being this Anaander if she comes in a different shape? Although, there’s an advantage.” she motioned to the console near the door. “It’d tell us. So that might make it a touch easier. How do you want it played?”
After all Meetra had put down rules for Nihilus. The very least she could do was allow Seivarden to put down their own rules. It was only fair. “Didn’t mean to imply you hadn’t served either,” she offered after a pause. She’d trained with Seivarden. And as she’d grown to dislike how Jedi tended to act wiser than others, and like they knew best she did her very best to ensure that she wasn’t too much like that.
Habits were hard to break.
---
“Kreia and Anaander might get along well,” Seivarden said, wryly. “Or at least as well as the different Anaanders do.” It was a similar sounding strategy, trying to win people over for their own ends, saying whatever was needed to earn trust. Seivarden wasn’t particularly worried about that; she knew exactly where to put her trust, and that was with Breq.
She was quietly relieved that Meetra hadn’t even blinked at the pronoun. They weren’t a big deal to Seivarden at all, but Breq had warned her that some might be very uncomfortable or insulted if Seivarden used pronouns wrong, especially their pronouns, and Seivarden didn’t want to start this partnership off on the wrong foot. Especially since it seemed very well-matched so far. She considered how to answer the follow up questions about the tyrant.
“Anaander Mianaai is the Lord of the Radch, she’s only interested in power and conquest and control. She’s all one person, really, but because she’s divided into different bodies, there are… subtle, mostly unimportant differences, like how quickly she loses her temper, and how quickly she’ll resort to violence and destruction. They’ll all do it, none of them are better than the others, just… some of them pull the trigger faster. Unfortunately, I don’t think the computer can identify which one she is, but… I could be wrong, I guess.” She paused. “And they’re more dangerous, in a way, for having those differences. She’s in a civil war against herself right now. And Breq and I are fighting all of her. If she came through, I’d probably kill her, unless Breq… told me not to, for some reason. But I don’t think she would.”
She paused, trying to imagine all the potential dangers. “By herself, unarmed, she’s not special in any way. If she has a gun, she’ll use it, but more often she depends on her ancillaries to protect her. They’re… human bodies controlled by an AI, and they’re much faster than they look. The ancillaries aren’t evil,” she hastened to add, “But Mianaai has accesses to their minds and they can’t always refuse her orders. So ideally, we would only kill her and not the ancillaries. The AIs are… so much more than most people give them credit for, especially Mianaai.”
Hopefully Meetra would understand that part, since she already seemed very fond of her droid. She managed a slight smile, and took another sip from her cup of tea. “No insult taken, I assure you. I only meant that you didn’t need to apologize. I didn’t mean to say it… rudely.” Like an asshole, she would have said, except she was, this time, trying to be a little more polite.
--
That made her raise her eyebrows. "That's terrifying." She'd seen what Kreia had done. Not only to Sion, the poor bastard, but also in a way to Nihilus. And that's what confused her. Kreia had in Nihilus what she'd wanted. Someone who would, if pressed, try to kill the Force. Unless Nihilus had been to consumed with his hunger, too trapped to think of more then that. It would explain why Kreia had felt she'd needed Meetra.
Then again trying to find the various paths Kreia had wanted to walk would be foolish. There'd always been more to it.
"Sounds familiar. Known a few of those. Is she redeemable, or would any of her fragments be?" Meetra's instinct was, still, to try and redeem. Some people couldn't be. She understood that. But she had to at least make the effort. "We've got plenty of people here that could offer one of her fragments a new life. A break away from the whole, allow them to find a path that's different. If it's possible. If not, if she comes through, I'll stand by your side. But I have to see if there's another way. but you're the expert. I trust your word." And she did. She had no reason not to.
"Could the ancillaries be returned to their old self? Get the orders out of their heads?" She believed in choice. AI's were to be given that, if she could manage it. "T3's what we call a slicer." She paused. "A hacker. He could get into these ancillaries' head, try and find the code Anaander's left behind and purge it. or at least try. There's others here too, who do code. It'd give the ancillaries something back. At the very least hope."
She shrugged then, "you're fine." ---
“Redeemable, no,” Seivarden answered, and then hesitated before adding, “Reasonable, in the sense that she might be talked out of immediate conquest and destruction of this world… probably, especially if she arrives alone. She might even pretend that she wasn’t interested in that at all. But I guarantee you it would be a front until she can build up enough allies and weapons and come up with a strategy to take over.”
She could only imagine how much a single Anaander might love coming here -- a fresh planet with very limited knowledge of her, with limited technology, and best of all, with no other Anaanders anywhere nearby to interfere with that individual’s particular way of doing things. It sent a little shiver down Seivarden’s spine, just thinking about it.
“Some Anaanders would appear more reasonable than others. We’re not sure how many groups they’ve divided into, but… there’s at least the one who approved of completely annihilating the entire population of the planet Garsedd in retaliation for the destruction of one of our ships -- my ship, actually.” She shrugged, though she was not unaffected by the memory. “And then there is the part of her that chose to stop the annexations after that, because the spell of some of her propaganda had been broken. Those are the two sides of the war that we know about, but it might very well be much more complicated than that.”
The offer of helping to free the ancillaries was an interesting one. Seivarden looked at T3 with renewed curiosity. “I really don’t know precisely how the accesses work. But if any ancillaries -- or AIs, in general -- show up, it might be possible to try. Only if the AI gives their permission, of course. I think many of them are understandably wary of having someone messing with them again.”
--
She nodded, “alright. Distract and detain. Let you and yours decide the rest. Easily enough done.” Again, not technically protocol but exceptions could be made. They always could be, that was the hypocrisy of any military. No matter how well formed or how well oiled, there were always ways to get around rules. Blind eyes could be had, exceptions as well. The trick of it was never to strangle such things, and allow a sort of freedom. Then people were at least open about it. At least in her experience.
“So are you special to this Anaander? If she’s willing enough to destroy a planet for you, I am curious. Don’t have to answer, of course.” She had no leg to stand on with planetary destruction. Malachor would haunt her for the rest of her life. It had been necessary, but how much had this Anaander felt the destruction of that planet had also been necessary? She couldn’t judge there. “Does sound complicated though. Has to be odd, fighting yourself.”
She nodded, “Is understandable. Choice is important, but should be offered.” Idly she patted T3’s head. She tried offering T3 as much choice as she could. ---
“Oh, no, it had very little to do with me,” Seivarden answered. “I just happened to be the captain of the ship that carried the Garseddai electors, who had gotten special kinds of guns from the Presger. Mianaai was just angry with them for destroying the ship, and for...” She paused. “The Presger are a non-human race that even Anaander Mianaai is afraid of, so having those guns… that none of our ships’ sensors could detect, that could get through our armor, that could destroy our ships, it was enough of a threat that she destroyed them for it. I was just unlucky enough to be there, and unable to stop it from happening.
“But,” she added, “Any version of her would recognize me now, and one version thought -- because she underestimates the AIs, she thought I was controlling them and leading their rebellion, even though I told her that I wasn’t.” Seivarden shrugged. “So she’d probably recognize me.” She paused, then added, “I’m guessing that… Nihilus, or Kreia, would also recognize you?”
She smiled, and nodded. “I agree. Free will and choice is the most important thing, for any living being.”
--
She could see the reasoning. She’d done a similar thing, to break the Mandalorians. She was pretty sure that didn’t exactly say a lot about her, and she hoped the difference was that she regretted her choices, and was going out of her way never to have to make a choice like that ever again. “I’m sorry you couldn’t stop it.” she didn’t mention how she could understand. “Some people won’t hear the truth, especially if they think you an enemy. To Anaander, it’s very possible that she just considered you lying about it.”
“They would. Kreia...taught me for a while. She was a mentor before she betrayed me. Nihilus and me are in similar positions, but we fought so he’d know me. I killed him in my time, and I did everything I could to halt his plans before that. Safe to say he’d have a grudge.”
She smiled at the latter, glad they had that in common. ---
“Oh, I know she thought I was lying,” Seivarden said, with a slight laugh. “I had just tried to kill her, after all, and so had Station. But I think it was more that she wouldn’t accept the answer that Station was making her own decisions.”
She leaned against the wall, grateful that the majority of her own storytelling seemed to be over, and the topic had started to turn back towards Meetra’s story. “Can I ask,” she said, “About what happened with them? One or both? Any details that you’re comfortable giving.”
She had skimmed over much of her story, so she could hardly blame Meetra for doing the same. But they still had hours of their shift to go, and little to do but keep each other company, so there was plenty of time for as much sharing as they were each willing to offer.
--
Some people could not understand when something not human, or humanoid, had their own mind. She had plenty of evidence there, considering how easy others found it to keep wiping their droids. They just never considered anything else, too focused on the now. This Anaander sounded a lot like that. “Fool to her for not thinking Station has their own mind.”
“It’s a bit of a long one,” she gave to the request of her story. But there was time. “There was a war, which is important as background. There was an enemy, and they would conquer everything if they could. I fought in it. Did things I’m not proud of. That I regret. But not enough that I wouldn’t do it again, if I couldn’t find another way. At the end of the war, my last choice caused...death. Destruction.” She paused, never one to enjoy this part. She tended to keep it to herself. But to explain Nihilus, she had to explain his cause.
“In order to stop my enemy, to break them I destroyed a planet they’d rallied towards. The resulting explosion took out them, and some of mine. And in my galaxy there’s people who can use the Force, an energy. Allows us to feel things, for one. I used to be one of them, and I have a gift. I can make Force bonds easily. Allows me to feel what those I bond with feel. Hear their thoughts better. Didn’t know I had that gift until recently. Nihilus was a Force User as well. Don’t know who he was before he took up his mask. But when I destroyed the planet the Force reacted. Because with Bonds, you feel their death. It should have killed me, the resulting backlash. I don’t know why it didn’t. Instead it...removed the Force from me. Took it all away.” She paused trying to find an explanation. “The way this place takes away powers, in a way. Except it made me what we call a Wound in the Force.”
She sighed, “it did that to Nihilus too, and it broke his mind. The way we’re trained, we’re never trained to deal with one moment hearing the galaxy in a way that I can’t explain to suddenly hearing nothing. And then Nihilus discovered he could use death to feed himself, to use that to power himself. An echo of the Force. And as he killed, he became stronger. And his hunger grew, until it was all he was.” she grew quiet, remembering Nihilus. “I sensed him, when we faced each other. It was like feeling a black hole.” she glanced aside and to T3. “I don’t know why I didn’t turn out like him. I’m still a Wound. When death happens around me, I get stronger. When I’m around other Force Users I can...spark them in a way. Make them connect with the Force, if before they couldn’t. And I can use them to power my own powers. It’s not something I do anymore. Trained myself to stop doing that. I don’t like being around a lot of death. I can tell when I get stronger.” T3 rolled into her leg, beeping at her. She smiled at the droid and patted his head. “T3 thinks I’m being to maudlin with my worries. But that’s what happened with Nihilus.”
“Kreia is...different. See The Force has a will. It isn’t anything physical, but it is an energy. It can set things in motion. Make sure the right people are at the right place. Kreia hated that. Hated that she was a puppet to something she couldn’t control, despite the fact she was a Jedi herself. So she found me, after I was exiled. She tried to use me to kill the Force, not understanding you can’t.” She shrugged. “What I can’t explain though is that she’d found Nihilus too. She made him into what he became, before me. So she already had a creature. I don’t quite know why she came to me. Maybe because I had more mind to me, that I remained myself? She mentored me. And I cared for her. Loved her. And she betrayed me. Had to kill her, in the end.” She’d skimmed a lot, but it was still her story.
---
War against an enemy who would conquer everything was one that Seivarden was familiar with. Thankfully it had not caused the destruction of planets, but rather the freedom of them. But not everyone could find the way to do that; not everyone was Breq, or Station. Certainly Seivarden wasn’t. She couldn’t judge Meetra too harshly for it, especially since she had wanted to find a better way.
The description of losing the Force was… interesting, though. She wondered if it was anything like how Breq had felt, when she had suddenly lost all the rest of herself. All her other bodies, including the main ship, all of them connected to each other -- not to mention the captain, the lieutenants, and soldiers that she was connected to. Seivarden knew the absence of it had left Breq very lonely, and Station also missed looking after all of its inhabitants. But it was not the same thing, and it was also not her emotions to share, so she said nothing about it.
“Maybe she thought she could control you better than Nihilus,” she said instead, her tone a little hesitant, tentative about making such a guess. “If control mattered to her that much, and if he was just a black hole consuming everything in his path and growing stronger with it… maybe she thought you could stop him, if needed, or keep him under control enough for him to continue being useful.” She gestured in a way that indicated her uncertainty. “One of the Anaander Mianaais thought she could keep my captain, Breq, as a sort of… conscience. Something to keep her in check, and a weapon to turn against the other parts of herself. You can see, perhaps, why I thought saw the parallels between the two. But I could also be wrong.”
--
It was possible Seivarden was right. It wasn’t like Kreia was here to ask, and even if she was Meetra knew Kreai’d never give the full truth. It came with Kreia’s self styled title. “I don’t know,” she offered honesty. “There are parallels, obviously. But the truth isn’t something I’d ever find, even if Kreia came here. She’s not one who believes in giving that out, and even if she would it would be her truth. Not everyone else's. Much more likely Nihilus had gotten out of control, like you said, and I was the one to put the mad dog down.” There were worse things than being useful, but for someone who hated being controlled, Kreia had certainly tried to use puppets for nearly everything.
“Some things one can only guess at.” She did as Seivarden did and leaned against the wall. “I’d ask a favour of you. I told you about Nihilus, just...watch me. I can become him. At one point he had to have been like me, and then stopped being anything. I keep watch on myself, but it’s hard to see when you step over lines. A big sign would be if I start killing for the sake of death. Here, it’s easier. No Force, No Wound.” she shrugged. It was part of why she’d taken the job. Anything else would lead to making the choices she’d made before. And if she left here, she’d need to go find Revan. She couldn’t risk falling to the danger of becoming like Nihilus. Too much depended on her. “But we can all fall. To think we can’t is probably one of the first steps. Rather have people keeping an eye on me, making sure I don’t stray.”
---
Seivarden nodded in agreement. People like Kreia, like Anaander Mianaai, only said what served their own purposes -- even when they spoke the truth, there was some other motive behind it. “I doubt we will ever get any real truth out of Mianaai, either,” she said. “Any version of her.”
She took another sip of her tea, and did her best to conceal her interest that had been piqued by the request for a favor. It was certainly a heavy one to ask. “Indeed, anyone can fall,” she agreed. “And if you started making such decisions -- and killing people -- I would certainly say -- or do -- something about it. But I think, based on what you’re telling me, that you have the ability to keep yourself from falling.” She looked at T3. “And T3 seems very fond of you, perhaps she’ll help as well?”
--
“Thank you,” she gave honestly. She knew it would be unlikely, she worried too much and she figured that when she stopped worrying about falling it was probably a sign, but knowing someone else was there was a bit of a weight off her. And it was good it be someone who didn’t have any ties. If Atton or Mical was here, neither would say anything. They’d just try and nudge. Or because she knew how to influence them, not even that. She’d be able to count on Revan, but she doubted she’d be seeing him any time.
She chuckled, “yeah. He’ll zap me. And I’ve asked him to find people if he thinks I’m going to far.” She patted T3’s dome. “He’d rather we find Revan, but considering we’re stranded here keeping an eye on me will do. And I’m grateful for the compliment.”
She lowered herself on the ground, crossing her legs. While it didn’t look like it, she could get up from it within moments. Long years of training had given that much. “Sit, if you like. It’s long hours. Might as well make them comfortable.” ---
It wasn’t too difficult of a favor to promise, even if it was a heavy one, just because Seivarden was hoping it wasn’t going to happen. At this point, Seivarden’s moral compass was strongly tied to Breq’s standards, and that meant doing the right thing, even if it was costly, even if it meant helping someone she didn’t like. But she liked Meetra already, and she didn’t want Meetra to hurt anyone, so it was just, very simply, the right thing to do.
She smiled. “Of course. And while it may be a smaller thing to ask -- please feel free tell me if I’m ever being an ass. I’m working on that.” She got carefully down to the ground, one-handed because of the cup of tea she was still holding, and savoring. If she had to get back up again, of course, she could do it more quickly by leaving the cup behind. “It’s both easier and harder, here, because this is an entirely different culture and I don’t have any preconceived notions about anyone… except Earth being so far back in human history as to be practically forgotten by my time. But there are also so many differences between cultures that I’m amazed I haven’t yet horrifically offended anyone.” She paused. “As far as I know, at least.”
--
She nodded, “easily enough done, although my line might be a bit different then others.” Her line was HK, and from even the little conversation they’d had Seivarden didn’t seem similar. At least it would be easy enough, and she wouldn’t need to keep an entire crew from one another’s necks. “I can’t really relate, despite being from a whole different galaxy. Was always taught to integrate into any society. We’re meant to be adaptable, it’s how Jedi do their best work. If we’d let culture shock get in the way, very little gets done.” That and she’d had the advantage of being able to check things out when she’d been in quarantine. Having days to yourself had offered little but meditation and taking a look around.
“”People should be alight, among us. Little to to when you offend but apologize. But everyone here understands things might be different. If they don’t, well.” She shrugged. “That’s them, not you.”
---
“Yes, but it is also, sometimes, me,” Seivarden said, lips quirking up into the shadow of a wry smile. Since Meetra didn’t seem to be concerned about cultural differences, she continued, “But I’m glad people are understanding about little differences. I was warned, in particular, that people might be offended if I get their pronouns wrong.”
She shrugged. “The Radchaai don’t concern themselves with gender, and our language has no words for it. I don’t know exactly how I learned this language, English, but I speak it instinctively, and I catch myself using female designations by accident, for almost everything. It’s very strange.”
--
“They might,” she gave honestly enough, “but they’re quick to tell you.” She had issue with that, some days. The Jedi might have had their problems, and she might disagree with how they operated, but she’d been taught that to foster better relations with any culture she encountered, the best way to do so was to embrace that culture. Plus the fact she was female had never been the issue with them.
She shrugged, “Isn’t my language either. But I would offer the advice to not feel strange. It’s your thing.” She gave a shrug, “nothing wrong with it.” ---
“Thank you,” Seivarden answered, although she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that answer. Still, it was true that no one had yet appeared to be offended by her, so perhaps there really was nothing to worry about. It was just difficult not to feel as though there were landmines everywhere, that because of her privileged upbringing in the Radch, she wouldn’t be able to see.
She took another drink from her cup. “So, what do you normally do to pass the time on watch? Maybe I should have brought a game of counters.”