#apprentice Raya | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anchanted-one · 2 years

Text

Legend of Lightning Chapter 62. Therapy Begins

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/114381535

Note: My memory during my depressed phase is often hazy, especially those of therapy. At times, I felt like I was half-asleep in the backseat of a car being driven by a questionably sober driver.

Which is why I don’t expect my depiction of Therapy to be accurate. So please be kind in that regard :D

It was a sunny afternoon when Jedi Master Oteg landed on Tython. He took a customary deep breath, closing his eyes and taking in the eddies of the Force. The Light was strong on this world, quite unlike any other world he visited these days. It rejuvenated his spirit a little. These days… dark times, dark times. The Force was in chaos, and most senior Jedi spent every waking moment feeling uncomfortable. He had hoped to never see its like again, after Raya had restored peace to the Galaxy, but alas, the stars were ever at war.

But at least he now had this one safe world.

His infrequent returns to Tython were as precious as they were ephemeral. One had to drink in every last moment they got. When he opened his eyes, he feigned surprise to see the woman standing there, as though he hadn’t Sensed her from the other side of the door.

“Ahh, Grand Master! I wasn’t expecting a welcome party.”

“Welcome back to Tython, old friend. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Nonsense! I needed a break. A few days’ rest, before the next campaign.” He followed the human, returning bows all around.

“Ah yes,” Satele smiled. “The ‘secret mission’ you refuse to tell me about. You do realize—”

“That it’s highly suspicious?” Oteg finished. “It’s merely a surprise for you, Grand Master! A <<redacted>>* my age me should be allowed his moments of theatricality, I think? A fair trade for all the wisdom I have to offer in exchange.”

“Have it your way then,” the child sighed. “Is there at least anything I can do on my end?”

“Perhaps. I will need a few good Jedi, and a few good pilots.”

“Seraphim should be ready for a combat mission in the next few days.”

“Good. I have a strong strike team prepared already. With luck, we’ll be able to hit Taral V by the end of the week.”

They entered a conference room close to the hangar, and Grand Master Shan immediately dropped her mask.

“I need answers, Oteg.”

“To what questions?”

“You’re aware of Vajra’s situation?”

“Yes, you were kind enough to send out a coded memo to all your colleagues on the Council. Poor boy… to be driven to this extreme—”

“But why does he want to see you?”

Oteg felt the muscles of his jaws loosen. “What?”

“It was the first coherent thing he said after waking up. He didn’t talk to Jasme, didn’t apologize to her, he didn’t even ask about Kira or T7. He jumped straight to Master Oteg. Why? The two of you haven’t interacted since he left Raudraksha nearly twelve years ago. He barely remembers you. Yet he asked for you by name. Even drugged up and worn out, he knew he wanted to talk to you. Why?”

Oteg sighed. “I have a guess, but there’s a good chance I’m wrong. Why don’t we just get it straight from the horse’s mouth? You’re welcome to sit in, if you like.” He always wondered if a day might come, where he would have to own up to what he did. Perhaps it was here; but there was a chance the boy didn’t know. Maybe he just wanted to talk about Uupa. Or perhaps, he wanted to talk about something else on Raudraksha. Maybe it was just a product of the anesthetics and deprivations, and he would forget now that he was properly awake.

“If this is another one of your games—”

“Not this time. I am dead serious. He is my closest friend’s apprentice after all, so I want to help him. I just don’t want to rush to any conclusions right now. When may I see him?”

Satele spoke into her comm for a moment. A voice answered; her daughter’s. That Jasme was her flesh and blood was one of the worst-kept secrets in the Temple, or at least among the Senior Jedi. Everyone just pretended to ignore it as a courtesy. “Looks like he’s awake. And lucid. His first therapy session starts in half an hour.”

“Good. Let’s not waste any time then, shall we? Let’s seek him out right away.”

Satele gave him a searching look before nodding. She was worried about Vajra, more so than any other Knights his age. It probably not too far off the mark to guess that it was because of Jasme, whose friendship with the boy was quite well-known by now. Unlike other Jedi, Oteg did not begrudge Satele her deviations from the rule. She had given her life to the Order, she had chosen the Jedi over a normal life, and she had never given anyone reason to suspect she regretted her decision, even though it had left her almost alone in the galaxy. She had few left, whom she could call a friend. The Order was all she lived for. The Grand Master was all she allowed herself to be, most of the time. Her path was as solitary as it got, but she rarely ever complained.

If there was any one Jedi who deserved some leeway, it was her.

Besides, love had helped many Jedi in the past, Jedi whom he had met and served with, like Revan and Bastila. Or Nomi Sunrider. Even Kreia had been stopped by love.

“I see you’ve not placed him in the General Ward,” Oteg commented, as Satele led him down to one of the sublevels.

“We’re trying to keep this under wraps,” Satele replied. “Vajra is a high-profile Jedi, thanks to his accomplishments. We still receive requests for him personally, from the highest echelons of the Republic. Some are requests for high priority missions, others for showing him off. We do not want word of this getting out.”

“Of course.”

Satele turned down a corridor and opened the first room on the right to reveal a safe room. Like most psych wards, it did not have anything that a patient could hurt themselves with. There were no locks on the doors, not even the fresher.

Vajra was lying down on his bed, and he looked terrible. He’d grown much thinner than Oteg remembered. His cheeks were so hollow that you could almost see the outline of his teeth. His hair was dull and lusterless, as were his eyes, which held a haunted, defeated look. There was a collar on his neck designed to stop him from reaching out to the Force, and his hands and feet were bound.

“Was this necessary?”

“It was. He nearly killed a nurse waking up, despite being drugged and weak. But perhaps it is no longer so. It isn’t my decision to make, however.”

Three pairs of eyes looked at him; Kira Carsen and Jasme Shan were both sitting in the room.

“Good morning, Masters,” Jasme began, but Kira talked over her.

“Please don’t ask us to leave. I think we deserve to know everything about this situation.” She glared hotly at her former Master, who averted his gaze.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Good morning, Vajra. I hope you’re feeling better under the care of our best doctors.”

The youth eyed Oteg uncomfortably, still not saying a word.

“I understand you wanted to see me—”

“Did you alter my memories?” he asked in a rush. “Or my head?”

Oteg gave a heartfelt sigh and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

“Some explanation is required,” Satele said, her voice soft but sharp.

“Master Satele?” Vajra tried to sit, forgetting for a moment that he was tied down. “Ow!”

Satele entered his field of vision and comfortingly ran her fingers through his hair. “Don’t try too hard. You’re still quite weak.”

“I need to move,” he begged. “All this sleeping around is driving me crazy!”

He certainly did look crazed. His eyes were wide, except for his firmly closed third one that is. They were so shot with blood that Oteg feared vessels might burst.

“Vajra, you’re not supposed to strain yourself,” Jasme said. “The vessels in your eyes have only just healed, you know. You’re supposed to relax completely. Don’t make me beg. You’ll be on your feet if you behave. I promise.”

“Just let us distract you in the meantime, okay?” Kira put in. “I know it can’t be easy in there.” Both women sounded like they had their own battles going on inside their hearts, but neither put in a hint of anger at Vajra, which was good.

“Remember your training. Try to breathe. Relax.”

“I can’t. I haven’t been able to for… for so long!”

Satele surprised them all by ripping off the restraints. “Stand.” Vajra complied, looking awed. Satele redid the cords so that his arms were still bound. “There. You can stand and walk now. Does that help at all?”

He nodded furiously. “Thank you, Master.”

Satele surprised everyone again by giving him a firm hug. He seemed to grow calmer in her arms, almost as if her poise and serenity were influencing him directly. Tremors in his limbs stopped, and his muscles relaxed. He exhaled a few times as he worked to reassert his control over his body.

Satele released the young man. “You were about to tell me about what you meant. How have your memories been altered?”

She phrased the question for him, but it was clear that it was also intended for Oteg.

Now calmer, Vajra began speaking at once. “I’ve had a lot of nightmares these past few months. Uphrades on fire. Everyone I lived alongside for years being exterminated like bugs. I could feel their pain and anger. I felt guilty for not being able to save them, for not dying alongside them. But then I saw the slaughter of the Devarath tribe. I saw Darth Bellicose killing them all, even children younger than myself. I remembered seeking out my mother’s body in that place, and lying down in her arms. And I felt nothing. Nothing at all. No love, no guilt, no rage, no sorrow. When I woke up, I tried to remember my days on Raudraksha. I had memories, some quite clear. But it was like watching holodramas in a cantina. I felt no attachment or sense of belonging.”

All three women looked accusingly at Oteg, who held his ground. “It was me,” he admitted. “Vajra had survived something as cruel as the massacre of everyone he’d ever known. He was shellshocked when the Raudra recovered him, but recovered briefly under the Force’s influence. Too briefly. He was already returning to a catatonic state when we got back to the ship. We needed to reach him before he shut down again.”

“Did Uupa agree?” Satele asked.

“She wasn’t happy. The only reason she consented was because of my second argument.”

“Which was?”

“That her time was running out. If she wished to train the boy herself, as the Force seemed to desire, she would not be able to train him for years. If at all. Against her better judgement, she allowed me to go ahead and modify his emotional response to his memories.” He turned to Vajra. “Please do not blame Uupa. If you must harbor a grudge against someone, make it me. I made quite an unethical decision—”

“Can you do it again?”

“What?” the boy’s request shocked everyone. “Do you realize what you’re asking?”

He nodded. “I can hear them all. It’s all I can hear these days. I can’t eat or sleep. I can’t reach out to the Force. I need… I need to stop it. Somehow, anyhow! Please, can you help me?”

There was stunned silence for a moment. Satele looked over at Oteg, who finally shook his head. “Things have changed since then, Vajra. You were a child. There were fewer memories in your head, and they were all connected. Now that you’re older, your brain is less moldable. In addition, your memories are far more solid and branched out now. Affecting your memory of Uphrades might affect those of your training, or anything else. One wrong step, and I’d turn you into a droid. Or a psychopath. There’s a reason this isn’t standard practice.”

“Anything,” Vajra staggered upright. “Anything! I don’t want the screams to stop! Anything, please! What must I do!?”

“I’m afraid there are no more shortcuts. The only thing you can do now, is commit to your therapy. Doctor Row is good, as half our Masters can attest to.”

Vajra’s shoulders sagged visibly, and he sat down on the floor. His expression was one of utter defeat. Looking at him, Oteg fancied he could hear the poor boy’s ghosts. Kira helped him up, wiping her eyes. “Master… if it means never hearing the screams again, would you be okay losing your feelings for me? Or Jasme?”

Distracted though he was, he shook his head without hesitation, and so firmly that everyone felt a little better.

“I’m glad we mean that much to you,” Jasme was wiping her eyes. “Never knew you’re willing to fight your demons for me! For us…”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Kira held him like they were each other’s lifelines. “If the Council wants me gone on another mission, they can kiss my ass. I’m staying. I’ll not let you do this without me. Not again.”

“Your friends are your strength, my dear child,” Oteg spoke to Vajra. “I understand how you made the mistake before, but don’t ever try to face your monsters alone again. They are what will help you win, for they are the only things in this galaxy that make you willing to face the darkness. Remember that. You are different from most Jedi. Embrace that. Don’t try to be something you’re not. And never lose your soul again.”

Thoughtfulness spread across his face as Vajra considered the words. At last, he nodded remotely. An uncomfortable cough from beside the door caught everyone’s attention.

“Ah, Doctor Row,” Satele welcomed her warmly. “I hope you’ll forgive me for freeing Vajra without consulting you first—”

“Not to worry. If he hurts my feelings too badly, I’m billing the Jedi.” She glared at Oteg. “And we need to talk later.”

Oteg shrank back. Explaining himself to Satele and these children was one thing, but Row was an expert on psychology. She was far more aware of the risks and consequences. She might even know—no, she definitely did—that his action might have permanently weakened Vajra’s mental resilience.

“Any time you like, my dear Doctor—”

“As for you, young man,” she looked over at her patient with soft eyes. “I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. But I’m glad you have a reason to get through this period.” She smiled at Kira and Jasme. “I promise, you won’t have to resort to rusty tricks like Master Oteg’s in order to improve. I also promise, that you can improve. Are you ready to get started?”

The Raudra nodded listlessly.

“Come,” Satele said softly. Oteg and Jasme followed, but Kira stayed firm.

“I want to be here,” she murmured.

The doctor shook her head firmly. “No. Perhaps in future sessions, but for the first few, it will be just me and him.”

“It’s alright, Kira,” Jasme tugged her hand. “He won’t do it to us again. Will you?”

Vajra’s face burned with shame. “No.”

“See? Let’s go. Leave Doctor Row to her work.”

Vajra shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The doctor had allowed his bonds be loosened, but his collar remained. He could still feel the Force, but he could not use it. Not without being interrupted by a jolt.

Doctor Neha Row smiled at him kindly, waiting for him to answer a question.

“I’m sorry? My mind got lost there.”

“Both those sweet girls seem to mean a great deal to you.”

“Yes. They’re both practically my sisters now.”

“I see.” Her smile twisted playfully. “Do you think you have a crush on either of them? Or both of them?”

“No,” Vajra replied honestly. “And I don’t think either of them sees me that way either. I’m still sixteen.” And Kira has a boyfriend. Doesn’t she? She did when we last met. I wonder how he’s doing now. How they’re doing.

“Whether it’s romantic or platonic, you seem to love them a great deal. You care more about having hurt their feelings than what you almost did to yourself.”

Vajra nodded. “I wish…” he swallowed. “I wish neither of them had been unfortunate enough to meet me.”

“Why do you call it unfortunate?”

“Everyone I ever cared for is dead.”

She scribbled a note on her clipboard. “Uphrades and the Devarath.”

“That’s right.”

“But neither of those is your fault. I hope you know that.”

“Uphrades—”

“Angral was thoroughly questioned. He did not know what the planet meant to you. He chose it because of its importance to Coruscant. The Capital is scrambling to fill the gap in its food supply.”

“But still. Everyone I know dies.”

“That is true for everyone else, too. You almost died, and you’ve seen how that affected your two adoptive sisters. Besides, haven’t you saved Kira’s life several times now? She’d be dead without you. Or worse. In fact, there are trillions today, alive because of you.”

“Pure luck.”

“Luck may have been involved, but so too was skill. Yours. I’ve read through the reports. Every decision you made was a good one, if not the best one available. Especially on Coruscant. I don't know what transpired on Nar Shaddaa—” she scribbled something on her pad, perhaps seeing a reaction to the mention of Smuggler’s Moon “—but you acquitted yourself most nobly in the war of Alderaan.”

“I guess…”

She waited a few moments before prompting him. “How do you feel?”

“Guilty. Weak.”

“Survivor’s guilt is a common affliction to people who watched their comrades and friends die. Or perhaps I should say ‘Felt’ in your case. Can you describe your experience to me?”

Vajra swallowed. “I… I Felt them. I Felt connected to seventeen million people. I knew some of their signatures thanks to my time with them. They were roasted alive. I felt the air burn in their lungs, the flesh melt off their bones, their eyes fall out of their skulls. I felt their anguish, not only for themselves, but for each other.” He swallowed again. “I felt Gabril fall off a tower he liked to climb. I felt Sonni’s fear for her infant child. I heard her call to me, begging me to save the child.”

“You know this for a fact?”

Vajra blinked.

“Sometimes, our memories make things up. You’ve undoubtedly seen her in your nightmares. But did you see them in that moment?”

He tilted his head, trying to remember. “I can’t…”

“It’s okay. Who were Gabril and Sonni?”

“Gabril was a good friend. Sonni was his older cousin. I… I liked her. I used to… to dream about kissing her. Or holding her hand. Making her laugh. I never told her, of course. But she knew me well, and hung out with me often enough. She was Jasme’s age.”

“I see. Do you feel responsible for her death? The death of her child?”

“Yes.”

“And not counting your nightmares, which will only reflect your darkest thoughts back at you, was Sonni the sort of girl who’d have blamed you?”

“I—no.”

“Tell me about her.”

Vajra began to talk about all the times they’d had. The annual harvest competition, the picnics, the games, the contests. The few anecdotes that stood out among the rest.

“First crushes are always so cute,” Doctor Row smiled.

Vajra didn’t return it easily. “She had a child. I’m certain of it. And I…”

“Angral. Not you. You are no more responsible for the destruction of Uphrades than you are for the that of Taris and Telos, three hundred years ago.”

“I guess…”

“Is there something else troubling you?”

“I—I… I think I used the Dark Side.” He babbled the truth of his fight to her, leaving out none of the details. He told her everything, from his frame of mind to his ruthless slaughter of anyone who stood in his way. He held back details about exactly how, but he ended with the most damning of his actions. “… I had him at my mercy. And I crumpled his mind like it was made of feather glass. With the Force.”

“Given the circumstances, I think it’s natural.”

“It’s not the Jedi way.”

“I doubt even Grand Master Satele could stick to her guns if she were in your situation, with all her experience and maturity. Not something like this. I hope you’ve realized just how few people are forced to witness murder on such a massive scale. What Angral did was an abomination.”

“Has the Empire tried to demand his return?”

She shook her head. “Only his head. I think they’re upset that one of their premier Darths has been reduced to such a… shameful state. As they should be.” She laughed unkindly. “Has anyone told you about the reaction to his defeat?”

“No…”

“There were parties in the street. People dressed up as the man and wailed ‘Dada! Dada!’ Others talked nonstop about how, after all of his bluster, he was defeated by the first Jedi who managed to fight him when he didn’t have the deck stacked. And that this Jedi was a mere adolescent. People made a point of screaming ‘Maybe Darths aren’t so big after all’ on Imperial Channels.”

Vajra chuckled. “Reckless. What if it had hurt their poor feelings?”

“They weren’t pleased. They demanded Angral’s head back. As punishment for him going rogue, they said. Supreme Commander Rans reminded them that the treaty didn’t oblige us to return someone who they had disavowed. He also let slip that perhaps Angral’s fate may repeat itself, should any Sith start to act up.”

“What the hell?!”

“It was a bluff, of course, but the Sith were clearly not willing to test it. Yet. Oh. And there were also secret celebrations on occupied worlds. I believe there were even Sith who celebrated, chief among them, Lady Kaira Rooks. She sent you a gift hamper.”

“Who’s Kaira Rooks? Wait, never mind. I’ll ask Jasme.”

“A good idea. House Rooks has a fascinating history. Anyway, the galaxy is relieved by Angral’s death, just as it was by Bellicose’s. Everyone out there is looking for your name in the news, eager to know what you’ll do next.”

“Did anyone see ‘attempted suicide’ coming?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But you know what is on the forecast? Defeats of Sith like Malgus. Barras. Marr. Some are even betting you’ll kill the Emperor.”

“They’re mad.”

“They were encouraged. The Treaty of Coruscant… well. I don’t know if you heard, but there were over fifty million suicides when it was signed. Many were not as protest. People were shocked and disheartened. They thought the galaxy was ending. Others just couldn’t accept that after all the carnage, all the sacrifice, the war would end in such ignominious defeat. And Angral was one of the architects of that defeat. His downfall has brought cheers like you wouldn’t believe!”

Vajra understood the fear. He thought back to that day he’d received news, nearly seven years ago, recalling his own dismay at the thought of Sith victory. He had remembered the slaughter of his people by Darth Bellicose, worried that this would be the fate of countless Republic worlds. And he’d not quite been proven wrong.

His fellow Uphradeans had also been shaken. The normally happy and jovial townsfolk had grown tense and fearful overnight. Someone had started floating the idea of mass suicide should the Empire come knocking. Vajra remembered watching, aghast, as cannisters full of Sleeping Death had been passed around to everyone. He had refused his, of course. If he’d kept it, he might have used that instead of a noose.

Master WenSuul had not attended that emergency meeting. Her knees had failed her when news of the Sacking arrived, forcing her to sit down on a heap of fallen leaves. Vajra had carried her back to the cottage, and tended to her as she spent the next few days in a daze.

Come to think of it, that might have been the last day she left her home.

He told Doctor Row all his thoughts, and she sighed. “You see? The Sacking of Coruscant left a scar on our people. There are billions of citizens—or former citizens, I should say—who feel betrayed to this day, even though the Senate’s hands were tied. That is why your actions gave them such powerful hope.”

“It’s a sham,” Vajra whispered. “A lie. We aren’t ready for another war, not yet.”

“That’s not the point right now.”

“Alright.”

“Tell me your thoughts on the Sacking of Coruscant.”

Vajra cast his thoughts back seven years. “Until I set foot on the world myself, Coruscant wasn’t a real place to me. It was… a symbol, I suppose? A beacon that represented the heart of the Republic. The center of everything the Republic stood for, and the source of civilization in the galaxy.”

“That is how they’ve propped themselves up to look,” Doctor Row chuckled.

“I thought it was an endless city in the clouds, filled with rainbows and terraced gardens. Which is a ten-year-old child’s rendition of the truth, I suppose. I still can’t comprehend one trillion people. That is truly vast!”

“Yes it is. And I seem to recall you once saved all those lives. Almost single-handedly, too.”

“Feels so long ago.”

“Almost two years, no?”

“I think so. And now I’m living in the woods and nearly ended my own life.”

“You keep bringing that up. Are you feeling ashamed?”

“No,” he admitted. “Only because I hurt Jasme and Kira. If not for them, I wouldn’t hesitate try again.”

“Good thing you’re here then. We’ll keep you safe from yourself.”

“Why? Why do people care about someone like me?”

“Even the worst people in the galaxy have those that care about them.”

Vajra thought about the Power Guard program. “That’s not true. The homeless, the poor, the addicts. All the poor souls who joined th—” he stopped short, remembering that this was privileged information.

“It’s alright,” she said. “Under Republic Armed Forces regulations, I’m authorized to be hear even classified information, if my patients need to talk about it. Don’t spare any details.”

Vajra opened up about the program, being more open per her request. He was taken aback by her rather tame response, which was a forlorn sigh.

“Does this happen often?”

“More than you’d believe,” she confessed. “But I can’t tell you about them. War makes people desperate. Especially when they’re losing. I promise you, there are others out there just as horrific and unethical. We just don’t hear about them. And no doubt the Empire has such programs underway too. The best we can do is to help the victims, something which I’m certain you did.”

“Why? Why are you certain, I mean?”

“Because I’ve read your file. You’re one of the more conscientious Jedi. You go above and beyond for those you feel responsible for.”

“But I killed thirty Power Guards. On Angral’s ship.”

“A tragedy. But what choice did you have?”

“The ship was disabled. If I’d waited—”

“Angral might have gotten away. Or he may have pointed the ship itself at the Temple. You don’t need a bridge to do that, you know.”

“The reactors were down. The ship was dead. We had him. We had them all. All I had to do was take my time. I could easily have defeated the Power Guards without killing them.”

“I see.” She made a note of that. “But you went for the quick option. Why?”

“I—I wanted Angral defeated.”

“Vajra, while I can be persuaded to agree that you had other options, I want you to acknowledge one thing. You were not yourself that day. The destruction of Uphrades had a profound effect on you. Any other day, any other day… we will work on making you acknowledge that. We will reconvene the day after tomorrow. You’ve gotten a lot of things off your chest today, given them words. And I’ve said a few things in return. I want you to reflect on them. Can you do that?”

“I guess so.”

“In addition, I’m giving you a datapad.” She gave him a parcel wrapped in brown paper. “I want you to verbalize your thoughts and feelings. Talk about how you’re feeling. I have remote access, so I will be able to review it all outside our sessions. This kind of journalling might bring out some thoughts that you’ve kept hidden. Even from yourself.”

He nodded.

“I also want you to list things you are grateful for, every time you see one. Anything, no matter how small or big. Or if it’s a thought about yourself.”

He nodded again.

“I’m clearing you for leaving the ward so you can exercise again. Get plenty of it, see plenty of grass and sunlight. I will see you again the day after tomorrow. You take care of yourself now, alright?”

#star wars #the old republic #swtor #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #Jedi Knight #hero of tython #Kira Carsen #satele shan

10 notes · View notes