RPlog:Zik and Joh Talk p3

(Johanna) "Wanna hold this one?" His curiosity is plain to see; he's an old friend and she knows a lot of his habits and expressions. The blade disappears just before she hands the weapon over to her former XO. "Glad I didn't bring Cricket along... I get the feeling you'd chase after him with my own lightsaber if you saw him wheeling by." Her laughter is easy and genuine at the thought of Zik in hot pursuit of the heap of evil and metal known as Cricket the homicidal astromech. "Can you see it? Cricket shrieking and cursing and trying to taser you or set you on fire as you threaten him." More laughter. Johanna has clearly touched upon something she finds terribly amusing! Eventually the chortles die down and she wipes at her eyes, slowly regaining her composure. "Interesting that your parents would have received such a gift."

(Enb'Zik) The Sullustan opens his mouth to decline Johanna's offer - surely, he could never handle so blithely a weapon that is so personally connected to its owner. Johanna had already stated the pride and sense of accomplishment she had upon creating it. But the cylinder is pressed into his hand before he can get the words out.

He couldn't explain to Johanna just exactly what this means to him. At least, not without sounding like a blathering idiot. It's not quite hero worship, but ... He shakes his head; he can't even come up with a way to explain it to himself. Instead, he covers up by laughing in unison with the woman, mentally chastising himself for acting like a child. "You know, as many modifications have been made to that droid, I'm surprised -he's- not the one carrying the lightsaber! Maker help /all/ of us if that were the case." He finds the heft of the saber hilt to be similar to his own, but lighter: Johanna's blade doesn't have all the silly filigree he'd put on his. He turns it over in his hand, keeping his thumb carefully away from the activator switch.

Swallowing, he looks up at her in regard to her comment and seems to think, trying to recall something. "You know how politicians are," he comments, "They tended to get and give gifts among one another. Apparently the crystal in mine was the Jedi's first attempt at ... fusing? Focusing? Whatever Jedi do to change up the crystalline structure so that it works. Anyway, he had done it incorrectly when he was first learning, and as a gesture of goodwill or gratitude, he gave it to my parents. Is that unusual?"

(Johanna) Truth be told, she hasn't the vaguest idea, and has no trouble letting him know this. "You're asking the wrong person, I'm afraid. Commander Skywalker would probably know. Or you could always come to the basilica on Coruscant and root around the library! There's so much information there, we've got a bit of a traffic problem with beings perpetually wandering in and out and settling down there for what seems like days or weeks." Her elbow nudges him gently in his side. "Activate it," she grins, "It won't blow up, I promise. I already went through that on Corellia and I swear the thing is fixed back to its original state."

She leaves him to examine the lightsaber for a little while, content to watch him handle the archaic weapon. Then it's her turn for questions, and she hems and haws a bit. "Say. I've always wanted to know this, truthfully, and I couldn't very well have asked you it to your face while I was still in Star Ops. But..." her features grow serious and every last trace of mirth suddenly vanishes, "Was I a good CO? I did my best to keep the insanity to a minimum when the stakes were high, but sometimes I think I let you all down."

(Enb'Zik) Wide black eyes blink dramatically at the invitation as Enb'Zik looks from the weapon to its owner. "Blowing up isn't the part that has me worried," he answers, "Cutting my own hand off or removing the wing from my fighter is the part I'm concerned about." The Sullustan chuckles, but then blinks at the question and the way in which it's delivered. The blade remains extinguished as he tilts his head in that odd, very Horansi manner he's picked up from his wife.

"Of course you were a good CO. What in the galaxy would make you wonder about that?" A line forms across his brow as he thinks back to the too-brief tenure of Rogue Squadron underneath te Danaan's command, "You chose experienced pilots, you flew with us, ... you kept /me/ from getting turned into starstuff more than once. Not to mention how well you handled personnel issues. Lieutenant Rintari comes to mind." That last one was a secret - one the rest of the squadron didn't know about, and one that Zik wasn't /supposed/ to know about. "Was there something that made you wonder in particular?"'

(Johanna) Johanna sighs. "I grew up at the ass-end of the galaxy on a farm... gee, remind you of anyone?... and I never thought I'd be flying starfighters someday. I got married at fifteen and only joined up because there were no prospects left for me back home. I wasn't educated the way a lot of folks are. I was sort of thrown into the mix, ended up a pilot by accident. Did you know I was orignally slotted into a technician's spot? First several months, I ran around the Deliverance fixing the fighters that Star Ops busted up." She scoots herself around a bit, suddenly uncomfortable. "I dunno. When the words 'strong leader' come to mind, I just don't seem to pop up in my mental images. Being a leader wasn't something I was ever really taught... I guess I have a habitual issue with my estimation of myself." This high-minded conclusion makes her snort and look back to Zik. "It helps to hear you say I was good at my job. There are days when I have doubts about this whole Jedi business, but the Commander tells me I have to get over it and just accept who I am."

(Enb'Zik) The Sullustan pilot listens to Johanna recount her past, nodding as her words bring a response to his mind. And a small frown to is face. From somewhere, the impetus is suddenly present to take Johanna up on her offer to ignite the lightsaber. Looking from her to it, he does, and it hums to life with an authoritative crack before settling into something like a soft purr. Its frost-colored shine reflects off the Sullustan's eyes and drives shadows from his face.

"This war has cast all of us into positions we never planned for or imagined, Johanna." He swallows for the second time, moving the blade through the air with exceeding caution, slowly, the pitch of the vibration changing slightly. "I was supposed to be a diplomat like my parents, maybe even a Senator. But here I am." He bites his lower lip and quietly reflects, "The galaxy has enough farmers. It has enough politicians. Evidently what it doesn't have enough of are defenders." He's too respectful of the blade in his hands to take his eyes off of it, or he would turn to look at the woman, "My parents used to tell me that the Force has a will of its own. I can't touch the Force, but if the Force is linked somehow with all life, who is to say it hasn't directed both of us to where we are now? We didn't plan to be here, but for whatever reason, you and I and all those we work with every day are the ones chosen - destined - to be the defenders."

Ikihsa stops speaking a moment, but it's obvious from his expression that his thoughts are continuing. Several quiet moments go by before stifles the blade and turns to hand its source back to its maker. "You were a very good CO."'

(Johanna) Zik's idealism is mighty, but there is truth in what he says. The pilot pats him on the shoulder again with a deep expression of gratitude visible in her dark eyes. "Thank you," she replies, taking the weapon and returning it to her side, "You've got something very fine about you. I don't mean to imply that the military is composed entirely of boors. That would be ridiculous, given who's talking. But you're different somehow. You remind me a little of the Commander." One hand still on his shoulder, a simple gesture of friendship is offered through the Force in the form of a reassuring wash of blue that builds gradually into a shapeless shimmer visible only to the mind's eye. "Easier to express it in pictures than words sometimes," Johanna explains, hoping the image won't startle him, "I don't usually share this."

(Enb'Zik) He looks for a moment like he isn't sure how to respond. "The Commander?" he questions, then cocks his head, "Skywalker?" That same head shakes as laughter erupts almost nervously from beneath his dewflaps, "No, no. That's just... how I was raised. Maybe it's the result of living under Imperial rule until I was twenty years old. Of knowing what it's like to need a defender, to wish someone would help."

He takes a breath, but the image forming in his mind causes him to stop. "What...?" he questions, and then Johanna clarifies, and Zik smiles, "Oh." Somehow it's calming, though the image has no real form. It doesn't really seem to resolve into anything recognizeable, but he finds it comforting. And... something else? "Thanks, Joh," he says quietly, "It means a lot."'

(Johanna) And so it seems the natural conclusion of their conversation has arrived. "I'll see you around? I guess I still have to visit with Doctor Finian and chat some. Good talking to you again!" She chuckles and slides off of the wing where they've both been sitting and philosophizing. "I'm not too hard to reach should you ever need backup for your... expeditions. I try to keep out of those types of situations but hey, you know how it is with old war buddies. We can't quite say no when friends come calling with adventures to be had. Take care of yourself, Zik." With a smile and a polite bow, she takes her leave of the Sullustan.

(Enb'Zik) Still looking pensive - from the conversation, as well as in the wake of the mental image - Enb'Zik looks up from his thoughts and nods, smiling. "Johanna, you do the same thing, okay? Stay safe." As she slides down to the decking, his gaze follows. She and the conversation have given him a number of things to think about, but the mission is still at the forefront of his thoughts, too. "If we do need backup, I'll be sure to let you know. I'm not going to do anything I'm not ready for. I promise."

And then he watches her go. Several minutes later, he reaches over to secure the canopy on his fighter, then climbs down the ladder to the ground and heads for his and his wife's quarters on board the Forge.'

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