Without Honor or Humanity - 10.242

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

A smile, and Teagan shifted her gift so that it was more easily seen, and within reach as well.

"I brought you something. It's not much, but I wanted you to have something while you were stuck in here."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya's dark eyes settled on the gift and the paper.

"You saved this frrom Life Day?"

There was no mistaking the adornment. It was beautiful. No wonder she saved the paper. With her latchkey sensibilities, Draiya would have done the same. Her right hand moved it to where her left lay, fingers spreading around the contours as she looked back to Teagan with confusion. Old prideful misgivings were easy to find. Was this pity? Some bone tossed to a broken down dog too inept to fetch it for themselves?

The proper thing to do was to thank her, yet something familiar slowed her response. Something that Draiya had to push aside.

Draiya pulled the gift further into her lap, crinkling the paper slightly.

"You'rre the only perrson herre who's everr given me anything beforre."

Master Serena had shown generosity to her student, but in Draiya's mind that was a different sort of relationship. The generosity wasn't lessened, but perhaps tempered by obligation.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

"Well... "

In the past, their interactions hadn't been the best, and had once resulted in Teagan succumbing to tears. But, time always had a way of changing people, and after their shared Life Day, the girl had found an unlikely friend in Draiya. It was still a careful friendship, but it was there all the same.

"It's not much, since there's not much around here to dress up, but it's something at least."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Fingers moving slowly, Draiya carefully negotiated the tape binding the wrapping together, peeling it free with the minimum of tearing or discoloration against the adhesive. It was a long process, but the Syragori wouldn't cheapen Teagan's gift with anything less. One corner was freed, then another. Draiya repositioned the gift to better make use of her one fully-moveable arm, and finished the job on the last two squares of tape. The paper opened up to reveal a black rectangular shape. She felt the material. It was backing for a frame. Draiya's right hand ran to the edge, finding purchase of a frame edge.

Her eyes looked up at Tak for any hint of what lay beneath before she turned the picture over.

What she saw took her breath away. A vision of her past taking her across light years.

"It's the firrefly grrove in Daitha'ka Na'Forrdahyu."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

"I went looking on the 'net for pictures of Syragor," came the explanation. "That one was so pretty, I had to print it out. I got the frame from the miner's camp."

Teagan couldn't help but smile at the look on Draiya's face.

"Pictures of my home always make me feel better, so I thought that a picture of yours would help you, too."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

A wistful expression took over, and Draiya ran her fingers over the image. The city lights behind looping graceful An'daalli trees lit up by an impossibly dense population of Syragori fireflies.

"I kissed my firrst boy herre."

She could still remember the night. It was late spring, and finally the nights had gotten long enough to stay out later and you didn't need a coat. She'd brought him Cathar sweetmeats and they lay under the tree next to the fountain and watched fireflies for hours.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Another smile.

"Seems a good place for your first kiss. Better than mine, at least."

A hand went up to rub at the back of her neck.

"Me an' Wyl were playing 'No Apologies', and for some reason I thought that I was dying. Had a cough and weird headaches all day long. I don't even remember why now, but I convinced him that if we kissed I'd be cured. We tried to do it like they do in the holofilms. That was when my... "

She drew up then, unsure if she should go on. She did anyway.

"So, yeah. My Dad walked in on us, and I got sent to my room and Wyl got a long talk."

A rueful smile.

"Two days later me and Wyll both had full blown Hutt Pox."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

A disgusted look blossomed on Draiya's face.

"Hutt Pox?!"

She tried to picture the mental image of Tak and Wyl in an agonized week of pink cream-splotched misery. She giggled, an uncharacteristically goofy deviance from her usual state of mind.

And she realized that felt good. Draiya sat up a little.

"My firrst was a boy named T'yendaarro. Girrls went to differrent schools and all the boys werre home-taught and stuff, but all the kids came to the parrk to play durring equinox festival. We had a week off. He was Meerra'in, um..."

Teagan maybe didn't understand the significance, and Draiya explained.

"Cizerack, but frrom home. That's complicated. Anyway, my frriends all told me I should tell him I liked him. We werre nine."

Draiya made a face.

"Boys werre still kinda grross."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Her smile grew, and Teagan nodded in understanding.

"Some of them haven't grown out of being gross, I think," she pulled her hands away from the bedside.

"I'm glad you like the picture, though."

She bit her lip. "I should probably go now, or I'll be late for class. I just wanted to check in on you."

An encouraging grin was sent to Draiya.

"See you soon though, yeah?"

[Draiya Naaianeya]

See you soon though, yeah?

Draiya considered Teagan's words, framed with the near-certain consequences of her fight with Loki. She was under no illusions. Her punishment may very well involve her banishment from the Order. Fear persistently tried to encroach on her and paralyze her with the notion, but Draiya could find no solace in fear.

See you soon were also words T'yendaarro had said all those years ago. Equinox ended, and all the children said their goodbye to unbroken days of fun. She never saw her first kiss again. His parents didn't like the ruddy-faced human he tagged along with. Too human. Too poor. They didn't waste their time giving her an excuse. T'yendaarro simply went away.

Draiya clutched at her picture as Tak left.

"See you soon."

[MA7-E4]

// Draiya Naaianeya - Syragori - Jedi Padathingy //
// Primary caregiver: Serena Laran //

While this patient was not under her direct care, the droid felt she would be remiss to not offer medical assistance if necessary. There were always ways to improve the quality of care experienced by the facilities charges. The heavy sound of padded metallic feet echoed as the the blue framed droid entered the room, adorned in nurses scrubs and a set of blue loafers, a recent addition to her uniform, its facial servos moved upward into a warm and cheerful smile as she gave a small bow.

This unit is Matea, Medical Assistant Series 7 droid. Do you require a change of bedding, perhaps an additional pillow? This unit would like to see your stay with us be as comfortable and pleasant as it can be.

She walked into the room, moving to stand beside Draiya's bedside. Perhaps you would like to hear our available dining options as your chart indicates you will be staying with us overnight?

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"I'm fine."

Draiya watched the strange droid guardedly, holding her picture frame close as it approached. Ever since her senses had been tempered by training as a Jedi, she'd become attuned to living energies and the way they interacted with the world around her. Droids were mysterious enough to a lay person. When you saw the living in a scale even more alive than others did, the non-living became doubly inscrutable. The radiance she saw around Serena and Teagan was replaced by a disquieting absence in Matea's presence. That it smiled and wore clothes and spoke in a comforting way just seemed to make the encounter more eerie.

"I'm not hungrry."

Which was surprising, given the amount of exertion she'd given up in her duel with Loki. Normally she ate like a starving horse, but the scope of events around her had absolutely ruined her appetite.

Watching Matea with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort, the Syragori scratched an itch just at the periphery of her cast.

[MA7-E4]

Ah, my apologies for the intrusion, this unit...

Her head tilted slightly to one side, coding burning through both systems as she watched the motions, the body language. The Jedi had denied needing anything, her primary systems told her that the job was complete, continue on. The secondary systems, growing more invasive by the day insisted that was an error. Both battled for control of the situation, and finally she spoke again, before the atmosphere in the room turned cooler from the awkward pause.

...wonders if you are alright. Beyond your immediate physical concerns, miss. This unit does not wish to speak improperly, or above her station, but your appearance indicates that perhaps you are experiencing a level of emotional discomfort.

She lowered her head slightly, taking the seat next to the bed. I am not programed for psychological evaluation, but it is my understanding that it may improve the status of your emotional condition if you were to discuss your feelings with another. This unit would not impose herself into this role, but offers the assurance that if you do require any level of assistance, I am available.

She rested a hand gently on Draiya's shoulder, warm to the touch - temperature readings showing an optimal level for comfort, and smiled, before standing slowly a moment later and taking several steps back to give the patient appropriate personal space.

If you should decide you require anything, please press the call button, and I will make myself available to you. She bowed slightly, walking back toward the door with the same muffled metallic footfalls.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

"Wait."

It felt like someone else's voice asked Matea to stay rather than Draiya's own. She was surprised she said anything, as there was certainly something uncomfortable about the droid's presence. Someone wrote her to say that. And yet, Matea might be the closest thing to an impartial audience she had. The Syragori studied the droid intently with a serious expression, at last putting her picture frame on the stand beside her bed.

"A Jedi is supposed to contrrol theirr emotions, Matea. Not to be contrroled by them."

Draiya averted her eyes to the blanket.

"I've lost something along the way that's fundamental. I don't even know wherre I lost it."

[MA7-E4]

The droid found its way back to the seat and sat down, considering the weight of the words that had been shared. Her primary systems were at a total loss as to the situation that was now occurring, running through potential psychological services she could recommend, or specialists that could be called upon. That was the correct course of action, the admittance of expert care for such concerns. The primary systems were being widely ignored in this instance, resulting in what was best described as lag, perhaps it was more appropriately giving the appearance of a thoughtful pause, but that was not a condition a droid would engage in.

Emotions can be a source of confusion for all life forms, miss. More so for Jedi, this unit would assume.

Her own recent foray into confusing coding, not matching appropriately to any known subroutines or systems had resulted in difficult results. As a droid, MA7-E4 was not meant to experience such sensations, whether attributed to emotion, or to faulty programming. The difficulty a Jedi would be many times greater than what her limited experience was. The concept that one had lost something vital to themselves though struck a chord she did not understand, a register of understanding deep inside. The file she had encountered, her father, or the man who had at the very least called her, his daughter.

One must be whole. She said somberly, a soft tone escaping as if it were difficult for her to speak of. The pieces of oneself are vital, and worth any cost to maintain. Coding echoed through her subsystems, her primary systems eerily silent in their actions and processes. This loss must be painful, miss. I cannot presume to understand how you must feel. This unit does note, that you recognize that something is amiss; Self observation is a helpful step toward recovery.

She froze again, oculars distant as her secondary systems ran subroutines and pathways. May this unit inquire as to what you have lost?

[Draiya Naaianeya]

The question was on it's head a logical question. It was quantitative and seemed exactly what a droid would ask when she'd offered herself up. The context prior, however, was completely unexpected. Draiya's expression was one of muted incredulity.

"I've been so wound up in small steps. Pushing myself. Brreaking limits. I wanted to be the best - the top of my class."

The Syragori stared into the distance, seemingly focusing on something not there, as if she were watching unseen events turn before her.

"It neverr occurred to me that my drrive could actually worrk against me and sabotage my discipline."

That was it. Realization marked the young girl's face.

"I lost discipline. I didn't rrealize it until just now. I was rready to do anything to win."

The fight replayed again in Draiya's mind. This time she watched not as a cajoling and demanding observer, but as one watched a speeder accident happening in slow motion. With time now to consider exactly what happened, one thing was clear. Draiya would have committed everything to winning. Even her life.

"Does a drroid feel prride?"

[MA7-E4]

This unit experiences satisfaction in accomplishing it's purpose. She said rather as if reading it by rote. I am not programmed to be proud.

She was not programmed for a great many things that she experienced however, and the question registered within her, she would need to examine her datalogs for further evidence into any occurrences of pride.

My understanding of the concept indicates that it can be both a positive and negative experience. She looked away distantly the silence falling between them a few minutes longer than would expect in a conversation with a droid. Are you uncertain of the nature of your own experience with this sensation? She ran the conversation's structure through her systems again, the mention of being ready to do anything to win standing out as a potential red flag, systems marking it as hazardous speech, injury to others or self could occur under such a scenario.

If it is vital for oneself to be whole, is one aspect - pride as an example - worth sacrificing another over?

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Again a supposition in the form of cold analysis. Draiya almost suspended disbelief that she was talking to a machine.

"If prride werre just a varriable in an equation, we wouldn't be having this converrsation."

If she'd died, nothing would have been made whole. Her very actions were the antithesis of what it meant to be a Jedi. She would have gained no honor. She would have put blood on Abarai Loki's hands that should never have existed. She would have destroyed herself and destroyed another for nothing.

"Unchecked, it becomes the equation. It's easy to believe everrything you arre rrests upon it. And then you become yourr prride."

It was a painful lesson that Draiya was fortunate enough to learn. She wondered how many people never got the chance.

"How long until I heal?"

[MA7-E4]

I cannot answer that. She said solemnly. Your introspection, however, indicates that you are on that path.

She froze up again, head lilting as if suddenly shifting from one script to another, icy oculars blinking several times, head turning back to examine Draiya. This unit apologizes, your query was regarding your physical status and not your emotional condition. She stood and moved to the foot of Draiya's bed, picking up a datapad and examining it.

Your caregiver, Master Serena Laran indicates that you will be able to leave tomorrow if you desire it. She swiped a fingertip across the pad, oculars scanning the information. Your treatment calls for several days of limited physical activity, and we will be scheduling the removal of your cast 2 weeks from your release. She raised her head, smile returning, cheerful, programmed tone accompanying it. Your injuries should recover within the next few days if you follow the orders prescribed, though we will need to examine your arm next week before confirming your appointment for the cast's removal the week after.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Two weeks.

An eternity. Draiya frowned at the news. Two weeks removed from physical training - to feel less than her utmost. Two weeks of a permanent reminder of what she'd done. It was easy to feel shame.

The Padawan nodded.

"Thank you, Matea. That will be all."