The Informant's Gambit: I Dreamed of You, Too

The Informant's Gambit: I Dreamed of You, Too
Date of Scene:	07 January 2024
Location:
Synopsis:	Navi and Zealot share a special connection in the Force.
Cast of Characters:	195, Navi

---

Welona, 3rd Zhellday, Fourth Day of the Festival of Balance, 300BBY

Amarik (195) has posed:
While Navi sleeps, she will be haunted by a tempestuous dream about a boy, a boy who lost his parents in the tragic crashing of a ship into an asteroid. Alone and orphaned, he's picked up by some smugglers headed to Nar Shadaa. With nothing to offer them and nowhere to go, the boy is forced to work for them, until he's old enough to flee his enslavement and strike it out on his own. The narrative after that becomes a bit clouded - a flurry of unfortunate events, blood shed, and violence upon violence.


Yet all of this is seen from the perspective of the boy, so when Navi wakes, she'll only have her intuition to rely upon regarding guessing who the boy in the dream was.

She'll also discover when she awakes that its the middle of the night, and the room feels awfully stuffy and hot. She'll be able to hear that downstairs, her laundry is still running, and see that across the room, Vons had fallen asleep on the bed with both clothes and shoes on.

Perhaps she should go for a walk, and by then, hopefully, her laundry will have finished...

Navi has posed:
Navi startles awake, gasping, breathless from the tempestuous dream. Panting softly, she looks around the darkened room, slowly remembering where she is, and why she's here. Sighing wearily, she drags on the coat she'd borrowed from Vons and slips her bare feet into her shoes before proceeding down to the street.

"I seem to spend an awful lot of my time dreaming about roguish men and their tormented pasts since I got back to Jedha," she murmurs. "The trick is, which roguish man invaded my dreams tonight? Zealot's the easy guess, but I'd be negligent if I discounted Vons."

She shakes her head, turning her steps toward the Brotherhood chapterhouse. "What a mess... why can't I get someone sweet and peaceful to haunt my dreams? Bet I wouldn't wake up troubled if I dreamt about Cayde. Or Imoen..."

Amarik (195) has posed:
Outside, it's dark and windy, the kind of weather that usually prefaced a sandstorm.

Since it's late, and there are few gracing the streets of the Holy City at this hour, even some of the streetlights have been turned off.

But as she walks towards the chapterhouse, she'll feel the tug of a familiar invisible string pulling at her again, beckoning her to turn from the path she's walking towards... only the Force knows where.

Navi has posed:
Navi keeps walking as the tug begins, not changing her course. It's only when it begins to become insistent that she pauses with a frustrated sigh. "Can't this wait another ten minutes or so?" she asks the area. "At least until I can get back to my quarters and get some proper clothes on? Do you realize just how hard this week has been on my modesty? AND my sanity? My fellow Novices are all going to think I'm some kind of pointed-eared profligate!"

Amarik (195) has posed:
The Sephi girl will feel an odd urge to look up.

And if she does, she'll find herself staring up a vague yet familiar silhouette sitting precariously on top of a nearby comms tower, feeding the night flit wrens.

His head will turn in her direction momentarily, and she'll immediately recognize the garish mask. It's unmistakable.

Yet his presence in the Force is mostly calm, and his demeanor as innocent as the birds he's feeding...

Navi has posed:
Navi sighs inwardly as she looks up at the comms tower, recognizing the mask and the flair for the dramatic in terms of seating. "You again... for a credit or two and an actual good night's sleep, I'd staple you to the wall of the police station with your own pointy stick and let /them/ deal with you..." she murmurs under her breath.

But, being the good girl that she is, she does nothing of the sort. Instead, she lifts a hand and waves to him. "I'm sure I'm going to regret this," she grumbles.

Amarik (195) has posed:
When she lifts her hand to wave to him, he stands up abruptly. The birds flutter away, chirping as they disappear into the night.

For a split second it seems like he might actually fall -- the railing he's standing on is so thin. Yet, somehow, he maintains his balance.

A moment later, he starts to descend, slowly and cautiously. And then she'll feel it. He had been the boy in the dream. Simultaneously, she'll get the feeling that he'd dreamed about her past too, at the very same time.

He comes to stand on the edge of the building's rooftop, looking down at her. "I'm sorry. I knew them," he says, in reference to the marauders who had pillaged her ship all those years ago.

Navi has posed:
Navi looks up at Zealot, unnoticed tears beginning to run down her face. "None of this makes any sense..." she cries softly. "Why do your people, if they truly are your people, do such things? We hadn't come to harm anyone... it was routine business that endangered no one but us. My Master never had to die... our crew never had to die!"

For a long moment she falls silent, her weeping closing up her throat to the point that she can't speak. It's a few minutes before she recovers enough to add, "Please, /please/ tell me you're not the same as them... how could you be? I've felt the gentleness in you. The desire for peace. And yet you've attempted to murder a sentient right in front of me with a pointed stick, and snuck into the Temple of the Kyber... why would you do such things if you're all of the things I've felt from you?"

Amarik (195) has posed:
He tilts his head to one side, his expression hidden by the garish mask as he regards her.

Then he jumps down from the rooftop, and goes to sit on the edge of a fountain at the end of the cul de sac, several feet in front of Navi. "Balance," he says. "I desire balance."

"You are a fairy. I am a lothwolf. We must oppose one another."

Navi has posed:
Navi shakes her head fiercely. "/No/... I don't /want/ to oppose you. Opposing you means we have to fight each other. I've had enough of fighting for one lifetime," she retorts. "I don't see any reason we need to balance one another like that!"

Amarik (195) has posed:
"Nor do I. But it is, what it is."

She can feel it. He doesn't want to fight her either. But he thinks it's inevitable -- just the way things are.

But before she can dwell on it for too long, he pulls off one of his gloves, revealing a smooth, tanned palm. His hand does not look like the hand of a criminal -- his caf colored skin is without marks or scars.

He then extends his hand towards her slowly, and gently.

Navi has posed:
"You don't have to be this way," Navi whispers. "You could disappear... start a new life somewhere. I doubt they'd care enough to look for you. This life you're leading is... it's something I can't defend. I've already compromised my ethics once, just so I didn't have to kill you. I can't keep doing that."

She hesitantly takes his hand. "This may be the last friendly contact we ever have, unless something changes. I can't stand between you and the authorities again... not after the things you've done. I'm sorry... I never wanted you to be hurt. But I can't begin to condone what you've done."

Amarik (195) has posed:
He doesn't say anything. Instead, when she takes his hand, he'll pivot his, intertwining his fingers with hers and pulling her nearer.

And then she'll feel him open himself up to her in the Force, fully. There are no flood gates now, every inch of him is rushing into her -- his greatest regrets and fears, his dissatisfaction with life, his happiest moments and deepest sorrows. It's all there, like a heterogeneous ocean of emotions, turbulent yet calm at the same time.

Somehow, she can hear his thudding heart racing in tandem with hers, even though she's not touching his chest. It's... exhilarating. Wild. Terrifying. Overwhelming. And very, very intimate. Perhaps more intimate than she had anticipated it might be...

Navi has posed:
Navi hadn't even anticipated that one could do this with the Force, let alone that Zealot would do so with her. She's all but overwhelmed the instant he opens himself to her via the Force, and it's all she can do to hang on to her sense of self.

At the same time, just as she can sense everything that he is, he can feel everything that she is. The family she can't remember. The long, long years at the Jedi Temple and several praxeums across the galaxy. Her love and affection for her late Master, seeing her nearly as a mother figure. The horror and grief of her death, and the terror and pain of the massacre of the surviving crew of her ship, and of the asylum where she spent over a year, even before her innocence was finally proven. Her sense of betrayal from the Jedi Order, and seeking to heal her wounded spirit by devoting herself to peace, goodwill toward sentients, and the Force through the Shining Brotherhood.

Dizzy, her head swimming with emotions both hers and his, she sways on her feet and goes limp, fainted dead away under the force of their contact.

Amarik (195) has posed:
He stumbles, also caught off guard. He barely manages to catch her and prevent her from falling into the fountain, as she faints. But before he can make further sense of the situation, the sound of approaching footsteps warns him that someone else is approaching. So he gently lays her on the ground and then disappears into an adjacent alleyway, vanishing into the night.

As the last strands of consciousness leave Navi, she may hear Vons calling out her name faintly, and then hear him say something about her laundry...