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Once upon a time, a lifetime ago, he'd thought she was …everything. The epitome of a Jedi Padawan. Beautiful, strong, agile, Sibel had known her.
She hadn't known him.
Not really.
He was just a face among the many other padawans; a braid, short buzzed hair, cream tunics, brown cloak. Nothing set him apart. His hair, dark brown, his eyes, darker brown. Medium height (compared to his master everyone but a Wookiee was short), lithe but rather skinny from sudden growth spurts, nose a bit sharp (broken twice and re-set expertly by his master). He'd suffered through bad hair days (buzzed hair was supposed to stick up, not flop down), pimples, and acute shyness around girls.
She'd never noticed. A quick smile in passing, nothing unusual between padawans in the same year. They'd share three classes. He knew she liked balina berries, her favorite color was purple and she loved dancing.
Gifted. Sibel remembered overhearing another master comment on her and saying that. She was gifted. Expected to be a great Jedi.
Was it the expectations, then?
Waiting until his master was busy, Sibel ghosted to the brig. It was really a small section of the ship with extra shielding, plating and divided into cells.
A holding place.
It had never been meant to hold Jedi.
This though, this was…almost not even a person.
What had happened to the beautiful, vibrant girl?
Her hair hung in greasy, matted tangles around her face, the once-golden gleam dulled to sour yellow.
He had seen her face in another light, far from this harsh lighting of a ship's brig.
She'd been beautiful. Heart so pure it had shone through luminous skin.
Grey. She looked grey. Weary. Heartsore.
"What happened?"
Sibel realized he'd said the question out loud and took a step backwards, only training keeping him from bringing his hand to his mouth. As if he could retrieve words.
Head slowly raising, the young woman blinked and peered towards the shield separating them. "Is it time?"
Desperate. There was a hunger in her gaze, the way she clenched her hands. "No." Whatever it was in her veins, it couldn't have been worth it.
"Go away." Hunched shoulders. A pathetic creature.
"No." Sibel stepped closer, and shook his head. "Why? You had it all, M'rish! You had talent enough for three Jedi."
The laugh twisted his heart. So bitter. So brittle.
"Jedi." It sounded like a cry. "I knew nothing! Nothing until they showed me Lumio and ghods…the entire fucking universe opened up in my head." Her eyes glazed, mouth hanging open. Suddenly she was there, in front of him. Wild eyes, matted hair in her face, staring at him.
At him. Seeing him.
Seeing. Him.
On her knees. Begging.
Sibel took a step back. The shield would hold a Rancor. It wouldn't hold what he had once longed for. "You betrayed us for a drug."
"NO!" Hysterical laugh and she ran her hands up and down her thighs, breathing erratic. "Drug, drug….it's a world. It makes me a god!" The once brilliant blue eyes locked with his, glazed and dulled to a stormwashed sky. Frantic voice. "A god. Do you…do you know what that's like?"
Shake of head, digging deep for serenity. "You gave them information that allowed them to kill nearly five hundred Jedi, M'rish. For a drug! You were one of our best and you…you threw it away, threw us away for some stinking –"
She'd crawled away, creeping back to lean against the bunk. Gone inwards. Lost to him.
As if she'd ever been his.
As if she'd never been theirs. One of them.
"Force be with you," Sibel whispered.
She ignored him. Looked through him.
Nothing changed.
He turned and walked back towards the forward sections, where he was supposed to be.
So much that could have been. So many paths of potential. Of light.
And she chose darkness.
Maybe being the best wasn't all it was cracked up to be. There might be something said for those who didn't get there first, but still finished what they'd started.
He was a Jedi.
M'rish was…lost.
Sibel walked faster as he heard his master's laughter ahead. The meeting was done. Good. Oh, he'd have to confess what had happened, but Master Ardeth wasn't as strict about those things. He understood that sometimes you just …had to know.
But he would mourn tonight in his meditations. Mourn for the light lost and the beautiful girl who had just…let it die.