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kuatiisms · 10 months
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     To say that the outburst took her by surprise would be an understatement. She had always known Fordo to be composed, collected, but this gap in his armour showed the turmoil he carried with him. The results of being a slave soldier, seen as property and as disposable by the powers that be. As she felt the waves of anger and anxiety in the force break against her, she felt her heart ache for him in that moment. 
     There would have been a time not so long ago that she would have corrected his behaviour. She had certainly done so with many jedi who expressed doubts over the years. Brushing off Skywalker’s nightmares, correcting initiates in the temple, trying to provide an example for other knights. But now, she had to force herself just to meet the Arc Captain’s gaze. 
     “I cannot begin to understand the fear and uncertainty you must feel, Fordo.” In truth, she could feel it, in a way. It was... overwhelming. Her eyes flicked down to her crumpled sleeve, now being smoothed out by his gloved hand. “It does not compare, but I have lost much. My opinions have likely cost me the rank of master, and a seat on the council. There was a time that I was being pushed towards a council seat as a younger woman, now that I have become more vocal about my misgivings with the order and the war there is scarcely a whisper about it.”
     A sigh escapes her as she shifts her position, creating more space between them. “If I continue dissonance, while execution does not loom over me, excommunication may. It may be reflective of my own grim cowardice, but this order is all I have. I can hope I may affect change from within the order, but I cannot push too hard.”
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     It was hard not to see his point. The Jedi simply were not built for war, no matter how they played at being generals and commanders. Bultar was an excellent star pilot, a formidable warrior, but battlefield command seemed so antihetical to everything the jedi were. Or, everything they were meant to be. 
      War, for peace’s sake. It took more conscious control than she would have liked not to let a rueful smile creep to her face at the thought. 
      Fordo’s expressed concern snapped her from her musings, though, and her brow creased noticeably. Greater jedi than she had fallen to the dark, but she still found herself dismissing the notion out of hand. 
     “You will not.” A large part of her had been crushed, though, and she knew that the person she used to be would hardly recognize the woman she had become. Meditation with Healer Seidon brought back patches of the aftermath of Amaltanna trauma and painkillers had hid. She remembered the sick feeling of anger, and the satisfaction retribution brought. She also remembered Fordo and his men helping her broken, bleeding form onto his gunship. 
      “Ultimately, C- Fordo, my misgivings are irrelevant. The Jedi order know well my position on the war. And yet here we both stand.” A flash in the distance caught her eye, and she waited a beat: Not an engagement between their forces. Likely Separatist forces clearing space for an FOB. She pulled out her datapad as she spoke, marking the approximate location to dispatch scouts and sappers to. “On another planet, in another patch of the galaxy that do not want us. There is a pervasive thought that I can’t seem to shake.” A brief sigh through her nose, then, “if we die here. You, your men, or me- it will be for nothing. I find myself ill at ease with that fact.”
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kuatiisms · 10 months
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'Dark' starters
"We're standing on the precipice of darkness, and there's no turning back now."
"Sometimes the darkest paths lead us to the light we never knew we needed."
"In the depths of darkness, the truth may lie, but it's not always meant to be unveiled."
"Our souls are tainted by the darkness that surrounds us."
"Yet even in the depths of darkness, there's a glimmer of light that refuses to fade."
"The night has devoured our hopes, leaving only despair in its wake."
"In the darkest moments, we must find the strength to rise and reclaim our destiny."
"Beneath this facade of darkness, we hide our shattered dreams and broken hearts."
"The world we live in is a twisted maze, where morality becomes a blur."
"The darkness we carry within us is a burden we can't escape."
"But perhaps it's in embracing that darkness that we find the strength to overcome it."
"The path we tread is paved with shadows, leading us deeper into the abyss."
"Yet, as we descend into darkness, we discover hidden truths that can set us free."
"Evil lurks in the shadows, waiting to consume us whole."
"Our hearts have become numb to the pain, for darkness has become our constant companion."
"We are the monsters that haunt our own nightmares."
"Perhaps it's in facing our inner monsters that we find the strength to conquer them."
"The world has turned its back on us, leaving us stranded in a sea of darkness."
"In this grim reality, hope feels like a distant memory, fading with each passing day."
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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Feelings starters
"I never thought I could trust someone so completely until I met you."
"You make me feel seen and understood, even in the darkest of times."
"Every time you smile, it's like the sun breaking through the clouds."
"Your smile brightens even my darkest days."
"I feel so lucky to have you in my life."
"You're my rock, my safe haven."
"Together, we can weather any storm."
"I've found a love so deep that it fills every corner of my being."
"You make me want to be a better version of myself, to strive for greatness."
"When I'm with you, time seems to stand still. It's like we exist in our own little world."
"You've unlocked parts of my heart that I didn't even know existed."
"You've shown me a love that's more profound than I ever thought possible."
"You are my home, my sanctuary."
"You've shown me that love is not about perfection but about acceptance and growth."
"Sometimes, just being in your presence is enough to heal the wounds of the day."
"I'm grateful for every moment we share together."
"You are my light in the darkness, my guiding star through life's uncertainties."
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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     It was hard not to see his point. The Jedi simply were not built for war, no matter how they played at being generals and commanders. Bultar was an excellent star pilot, a formidable warrior, but battlefield command seemed so antihetical to everything the jedi were. Or, everything they were meant to be. 
      War, for peace’s sake. It took more conscious control than she would have liked not to let a rueful smile creep to her face at the thought. 
      Fordo’s expressed concern snapped her from her musings, though, and her brow creased noticeably. Greater jedi than she had fallen to the dark, but she still found herself dismissing the notion out of hand. 
     “You will not.” A large part of her had been crushed, though, and she knew that the person she used to be would hardly recognize the woman she had become. Meditation with Healer Seidon brought back patches of the aftermath of Amaltanna trauma and painkillers had hid. She remembered the sick feeling of anger, and the satisfaction retribution brought. She also remembered Fordo and his men helping her broken, bleeding form onto his gunship. 
      “Ultimately, C- Fordo, my misgivings are irrelevant. The Jedi order know well my position on the war. And yet here we both stand.” A flash in the distance caught her eye, and she waited a beat: Not an engagement between their forces. Likely Separatist forces clearing space for an FOB. She pulled out her datapad as she spoke, marking the approximate location to dispatch scouts and sappers to. “On another planet, in another patch of the galaxy that do not want us. There is a pervasive thought that I can’t seem to shake.” A brief sigh through her nose, then, “if we die here. You, your men, or me- it will be for nothing. I find myself ill at ease with that fact.”
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     Curious thing to ask. She regarded him with her peripheral vision mostly, eyes gazing out on the horizon soon to be marred by blaster fire and artillery. Adjusting her stance slightly to leave a comfortable gap between the two of them, she found no problem in finding the humility to admit: 
       “There was a time long ago when I was an avid student of history, Captain, but I’m afraid those days have long since passed.” Try as she might, her mind failed to conjure more than passing details. “I seem to remember a near genocide of several species at the hands of the Mandalorians, leading to a jedi response that nearly ended Mandalorian culture as we know it, and resulted in the rise of a sith empire that nearly destroyed the order.” Broad strokes, as it were.
     “I assume there is more relevance to be revealed than there appears to be at first glance?” 
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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19. out of everything your muse has lost/given up, which hurt the most?
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19. ...Her morals, I reckon. She refused to kill, the war made her kill. She was a diplomat, the war forced her to fight. She was taught by her original Master to feel and respect the living force while the war was like a festering wound in the force. Everything she was taught and believed the war forced her to compromise. The war cost her apart of herself, which is something she can never get back. Her morality, the loss or disruption of her moral code is a loss she never really recovers from.
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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18. does your muse suffer from nightmares? how often? what about?
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18. Little known fact, but Bultar is actually where Anakin parroted "Jedi don't have nightmares" from. She is a staunch believer in meditation and self reflection to clear one's mind. She carries a lot of turmoil with her, however, and post her injury at Amaltanna she begins to have nightmares. Losing her whole battalion in one battle and gaining a lifelong injury, as well as killing in anger does a number on her psyche. There is a time she has self doubts about her place in the order because of it.
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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1. who does your muse hate? 9. does your muse think violence is ever warranted?
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It depends on when, I suppose. If you're talking pre-clone wars and during the clones wars, she doesn't hate anyone. It isn't the jedi way, and she can often find common ground with most. Dooku abandoned the jedi order, but she largely agreed with his ideology. The separatists often had plights with the republic she could empathize with. She doesn't hate anyone until the Emperor springs his trap and turns the Republic into the Empire. There was no motivation aside from his lust for power, greed, and hatred of the jedi that lead to her losing everything and everyone. He is, and will be, the only person she can ever say she's hated.
9. Bultar had never killed a soul before the clone wars despite being assigned to the guardianship of a whole system for nearly a decade before the clone wars. She refused to consider becoming a jedi master until she knew what it meant to kill and how to reconcile that with her place in the force. She was a diplomat, certainly well trained in combat but she would always use her words first. She believes it is a last resort, and always to be used with restraint in mind.
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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sad headcanon q’s… 
1. who does your muse hate?
2. how does your muse handle grief?
3. what is your muse’s biggest regret? 
4. how many scars does your muse have?
5. how long can your muse hold a grudge?
6. how does your muse handle loneliness? 
7. what is one of your muse’s greatest fears?
8. what does your muse fear losing the most?
9. does your muse think violence is ever warranted?
10. what is the worst illness your muse has ever had?
11. what would your muse consider their worst failing?
12. does your muse tend to push themselves too hard?
13. how does your muse outwardly express their anger? 
14. what is the worst injury your muse has ever received? 
15. what might others consider your muse’s worst failing to be?
16. does your muse have a short fuse when it comes to temper?
17. who does your muse wish they had said goodbye to, but didn’t?
18. does your muse suffer from nightmares? how often? what about?
19. out of everything your muse has lost/given up, which hurt the most?
20. what is something your muse wants to tell others, but is too afraid to? 
21. how hard is it for your muse to open up to others? what holds them back?
22. looking back, what is one thing your muse wishes they had done differently? 
23. does your muse tend to be hard on themselves when they do something wrong?
24. does your muse lean more toward “forgive and forget” or “resent and remember?”
25. does your muse recognize their faults, or do they have trouble with self-reflection?
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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<< We’ve got inbound, pop-up bandit group at bearing two-three-zero, looks like they pulled back for one last push, there's a lot of them. IFF confirmed, CIS Squadron 'Crimson' identified with more reinforcements, this is it! >>
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"Green leader acknowledging-" Muscle memory took over as she pulled her Delta-7 into a steep bank, eyes flicking briefly to her radar as she watched her squadron veer into formation behind her.
Bultar paused a beat - two - to see if anyone else would respond. After a moment, she resigned herself to the fact that she and green squadron were it. She flipped a switch on her comms panel, flipping from her 'all' channel to her sqaudron's specific comm channel.
"Green-Three, has your astromech repaired the coolant leak?"
The response crackled in her ear. "Negative, Commander. Starting to run a little hot."
She nodded to herself. "Pull back to Airfield Krill-Dorn-Niner. Green 1 and Four, you're my wing men. Everyone else, pair off. 30 seconds to engagement range. We're down six to one, you know what that means."
Green 1, her squadron's Lt. responded with humour in his voice. "Everyone takes down seven."
"Right. Fast strafing runs, stay on the outside of the swarms. Watch your wingmen, cover each other as best you can. When they lose fighters the CIS loses an investment. We lose fighters, we lose good men, and your experience is not replaceable. Stay close, pull up when you hit the swarm, try not to get separated." She paused for a brief moment, steeling her gaze as her fighter screamed through the atmosphere watching a swarm of Vultures and Tris blot out the horizon.
"Go get 'em, boys. And may the force be with us."
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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     Curious thing to ask. She regarded him with her peripheral vision mostly, eyes gazing out on the horizon soon to be marred by blaster fire and artillery. Adjusting her stance slightly to leave a comfortable gap between the two of them, she found no problem in finding the humility to admit: 
       “There was a time long ago when I was an avid student of history, Captain, but I’m afraid those days have long since passed.” Try as she might, her mind failed to conjure more than passing details. “I seem to remember a near genocide of several species at the hands of the Mandalorians, leading to a jedi response that nearly ended Mandalorian culture as we know it, and resulted in the rise of a sith empire that nearly destroyed the order.” Broad strokes, as it were.
     “I assume there is more relevance to be revealed than there appears to be at first glance?” 
@kuatiisms continued from [here]:
"Yes." There's a brief pause before Fordo moves to stand adjacent to Bultar, his motions careful, as if wading into her space. Resting his forearms on the railing to their front, he joins her in gazing outwards in silence. "Strategic gains."
Trying. He makes note of her word choice, seeking to understate that which ails her. Some Jedi took to the war better than others. He found Bultar Swan to be dutiful. Valiant, as many were. Most notably, she strove to maintain the poise he'd come to associate with Jedi Masters, more so than her fellow Knights. Strive as she might, he could see the cracks were spreading.
"Are you at all familiar with the Mandalorian Wars, some twenty-nine-hundred years pre-reformations?" His helmet turns slightly so that he may gauge Bultar's reaction. "A few of the trainers back on Kamino thought to teach us about Mandalorian history. It's a conflict I've found particularly fascinating ever since — a historic lens with which to view the Jedi's current predicament."
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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"There's no mercy in war. People live and people die. That's all there is to it."
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"Our goal is not the total extermination of anyone who identifies as a separatist." A slight frown creased her brow at the Captain's words. So callous, narrow minded, and wrong. "Reunification of The Republic has been the mandate of this war since the Trade Federation and CIS began it."
"Mercy, too, is our mandate. Showing compassion to our enemies, proving we are not who they think they are. Showing them the error of their ways, allowing them to atone and rejoin society. These are tenents this Republic was built on, Maze. If we systematically slaughter our enemies to a man, what makes us any better than them?"
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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"You've got that look on your face again, Bultar." He folds his hands in front of him, politely. "Perhaps you'd like to talk about it."
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"Do I." The dry response wasn't a question, more of an acknowledgement of the Captain's query. There was a time when she would have corrected the over familiarity, would have brushed off the premise more. But it has been two long years of war. Her relationship is fraying, her padawan is looking to leave the order, and in tense moments her back still spasms- the muscles convinced that there are still pieces of burning shrapnel embedded deep within her.
"Same as always, Captain Fordo." She sighs quietly, deflecting. "This mission... The people democratically elected to join the separatists due to legitimate grievances with The Republic. I understand logistically that they're an asset to the enemy's war effort." She pauses, tucking a stray strand of hair back away from her face. "I just fail to see, morally, what we're doing here. It will not make them hate us any less, and risks the lives of everyone here- for what. Strategic gains?"
She chews her bottom lip in thought for a spell before breaking the imposed silence. "Continuously compromising one's morals is... trying. That is all."
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kuatiisms · 11 months
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Bultar eventually learns Electric Judgement and channels it around her lightsaber, or alternatively around her hand. I wrote about this with dearest @tachiisms back in the day but never got around to her completing the technique. 
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kuatiisms · 2 years
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     Stillness like this hadn’t been felt within the temple for as long as Bultar could remember. Maybe not since the massacre on Yinchorr that took her own Master from her, but even then the void sitting heavily in the foundations of the temple wasn’t present. 
                 They hadn’t lost hundreds of Jedi in a single day. Not for hundreds of years. 
     Being there was surreal. Every second was a fight for her life, every moment like a wound in the force that bled more and more of her person on the orange Geonosian sand. When she landed with the initial strike team, she had her trepidations. If the Separatists had droid foundaries, and they knew the trade federation to have a standing droid army, a surprise attack in the middle of a hostile world could have only gone one way. 
                 And it did. Nearly one-hundred and eighty Jedi dead, at least one being a child brought by their master, Eeth Koth. Just thinking about it made a pit yawn and open in her stomach, threatening to consume her if she wasn’t careful. Was this the pull to the dark side? Despair, anger, grief at the loss of so many? Or, perhaps, was she still a person under the decades of Jedi regimen. 
      It felt as if she floated through the halls. The usual thrum of activity was dulled as Jedi were mourning their fallen friends, apprentices, masters, and the like. Everyone knew at least a small handful of dead, and the resounding silence from their chambers as Bultar passed through by the residential quarters was eerie. For the first time in her life, she felt explicitly uncomfortable in her own home at the temple. A small part of her- so small- but one she could not deny wondered if Dooku had been right. The plan the Jedi put forth was arrogant, foolish, near sighted and as much as she hated to say it: wasteful. 
      She loved Obi-Wan as much as one friend could another. But she hoped that if he were faced with the same choice to save her and two others, he wouldn’t consign one-hundred and seventy nine jedi to death for her. Not to mention the clone troopers, a blessing though they were. If it weren’t for them…. 
       The thought went unfinished, for she knew where it concluded. It concluded where Master Trebor had, gunned down by a mercenary. She wondered if she had been the last Jedi to truly speak with him before he died. Perhaps, she thought again, Dooku was right. But if he was- the implications of his correctness was outweighed by his role in the slaughter of the Jedi. It had to be. 
      The click of her boot heels came to a stop as she realized where her aimless walking had taken her. She cast her gaze around the room, once a large mediation hall: now repurposed as a temporary mausoleum. Or, perhaps a morgue. 
      Two steps brought her into the room, and it seemed as if the whole space were holding its breath. The silence was utter, complete, and deafening. Nothing about this was right. After a long, horrible moment her lungs began to protest, to demand air. She breathed in, and the trance broke. Bultar found herself moving among the burial shrouds, displacing the still air and making them rustle just enough to make her uncomfortable. 
        This couldn’t be what the Force has planned for us. 
                “You are troubled, Knight Swan.”
        The voice nearly made her jump in surprise. She took a deep breath, and took the briefest of moments to look inside her mind’s eye and clear the storm that brewed on the horizon of her subconscious. Slowly, she turned and met the gaze of Master Windu. She bowed, and greeted him. 
                  “Master Plo was right, you mask your thoughts incredibly well. But your body language, Knight Swan. I see much conflict in you.”
      Their gazes held for a long time before she responded. “No conflict, Master. I am just coming to terms with our path.” 
                   “Our path?”
      “Our necessary end.” She gestures vaguely. “I learned young, Master. Death comes for us all.” She bowed her head once more, hoping to escape whatever platitudes he was about to offer. “If you will excuse me, I must prepare for deployment.”
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kuatiisms · 2 years
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“Kiss me and help me forget about it?” “We could both help each other.” “I have to warn you, the way I feel about you, it’s beyond anything I’ve ever felt before” “The only thing I can tell you is that I’m here for you.” “You were like that before.” “The last time we talked, you were pregnant.” I’m a different person now.“ "What if we can’t stop it?” “In between all those weeks, you were out of my mind.” “It was true.” “I had never expected to see you again.” “I never expected to see you with anyone else.” “But you’re here.” “I was waiting for the right time to say it.” “Why didn’t you?” “Do you have time to talk now?” “How are you?” “What happened to us?” “When did we stop being friends?” “Why did it happen?” “Are you going to take me back now?” “I don’t know. "It doesn’t matter.” “We’re still friends.” “I didn’t do it.”
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kuatiisms · 2 years
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God I've gotta update things here if I want to pretend to be active
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kuatiisms · 3 years
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     A humourless smile crossed her lips. It was without mirth as well, merely a gesture to convey what she thought she understood Braig hoped to accomplish. Fundamentally, she understood the desire, the... obligation for punishment. The Order spent most of its existence while Bultar was alive ruminating on philosophy, altruism, and non-violence where possible. And yet here she was, speaking to a Padawan about coping with taking a life.
     “Is that why you came to see me, Braig?” The cold smile faded as she crossed her leg over her left knee, taking more professional pose. “To get the scolding you think you deserve from one who adheres to the rules so closely?” Her dark eyes narrowed slightly, accusingly for but a moment before she shook her head. “I have killed too. We all have. Were I to hold you accountable I would be nothing but a hypocrite. There is no one to hold accountable but-” the council. But she couldn’t say as much. She shouldn’t.
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      “-No. We should talk about what happened though. Perhaps I can add some perspective.”
kuatiisms​:
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     Ah. Thankfully, habit from growing up with a telepath for a master hid her thoughts well. The surprise of the question was briefly, subtly betrayed by the momentary crease of her brow before her expression returned to stoic neutrality. What a question. Though, she supposed, that could mean that Braig has killed someone. Such a young age, too. Or he’s looking for information. She didn’t want to ask him outright, nor was she sure if she should presume to comfort him. Not that she was any good at emotional support. 
      A deep breath inhaled through her nose as she thought for a moment before deciding: “Coming to terms may be the best way to describe the closure one must seek.” She gestures for him to sit on her chair as she gently perches herself on the edge of her cot. “It never gets easier- or it shoudln’t. I can scarcely think of a time during the war that I haven’t ruminated on my actions before taking a life, weighing every option. The few times I have had to, it was not a decision I made lightly. But-” she trailed for a moment, casting her mind back to her first kill. Made in rage, done maliciously, leaving an evil man to suffocate after sealing him in his command room. It made her sick to recall. “-but this is war. Sometimes you are left without a choice, and the greatest good can be done by ending a life.”
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“This war has turned us all into killers, and we must adapt. Make peace, and strive to end this war with minimal bloodshed.” She recalled the words she spoke callously to Healer Seidon after Amaltanna, the taste of her own blood still fresh in her mind. “War makes monsters of us all.” 
He sits as instructed, hands folding in his lap. Fingers twist as he listens, idle movement to keep him occupied.
He’d be lying if he’d said it was a difficult choice to make. He didn’t think there was a choice made at all. It had just… Happened. One moment, there had been two people in the downed ship. Then there was one. Just one and the smell of charred meat and ozone. Just one and the scream of the Force as one more life fell away. It hadn’t been a choice, and that made it worse.
He should have had more control over the situation. He should have been better. He should have– He didn’t know. That’s why he was here. To (hopefully) find answers. Or closure. Or… Something. Whatever it was that was eluding him so relentlessly. Her words make sense, he thinks, even as he stares at the ground. Even as he mulls them over. There is truth in them. It’s just not the truth he’s looking for.
“I know.” He says, then sighs and rights his posture. “That’s what everyone says. That sometimes, it’s inevitable. That it was the only option, but–” He cuts himself off and clenches his jaw, exhales through his nose and shakes his head. His gaze wanders, and he doesn’t focus on anything specific when he speaks, tugging on the end of his sleeve.
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“I still feel like I deserve punishment. … Does that make sense?”
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