Chapter Text
All Yord remembered was him. Him being in his head. That stress added to the fact that he plowed through his friends like they were training dummies. He tried to save his comrade but realized he only delayed her fate.
After his leg was cut by the red saber, Yord could only lay helpless as the masked stranger impaled her and pulled another Jedi into his saber with her before decapitating both of them.
He then remembered being with Jecki and escorting Osha back to the ship to get her away and warn the council of what happened here. After Ithia Paan's death was sensed by the trio through the force, Osha desperately went back for Sol.
Yord volunteered to go alone. Osha was safer with Jecki than him. They were closer. She never once assumed Osha was guilty. She did more to make Osha feel welcome than he did. It made Yord feel ashamed in himself for letting his old friend down.
"When you get back to the temple, find Master Plo Koon. He's the Jedi master who completed my training." Yord instructed. "He will have the patience to complete your training. The best way we can protect you, Verosha, is to make sure you can defend yourself."
He looked Jecki in the eyes before he left. They always bickered and made fun of each other. They were siblings and had that undying loyalty to each other. He knew Jecki didn't want him to go, but she put her emotions aside.
"May the force be with you." She finally said before guiding Osha towards the ship.
When he got back, he saw Ithia Paan laying dead not far from Him. Her neck was snapped. There was no sign of a saber wound. It really unsettled him. A jedi, especially one as skilled as Ithia Paan, killed without a weapon.
Besides that, he only remembered saving Mae from him and seeing his actual face before everything went black.
He sprung awake in a mysterious cave. His arm had been bandaged, and his wound healed. He was shirtless as he usually was when he slept.
Yord looked across the cave and saw his robes. He got up to approach them. They were not only clean. They had been ironed and neatly folded, placed on a towel to keep them perfectly clean.
He went to put them back on when he saw another pair of clothes. Civilian clothes from what it seemed. He unconsciousnessly opted for them. Black Hakama pants with a loose white sleevless shirt. The fabric felt smooth against his skin. The boots blended into his pants.
He bent over to pick up a collection of throwing knives. Like Mae had. He examined them before seeing a figure out of the corner of his eyes. He reverse gripped one of them, holding it up.
It was him. He saw Yord but ignored him, knowing he'd follow. Which Yord did. He sensed Yord's tension. He knew Yord wouldn't attack from behind like he did earlier. That was to save Mae and Sol. Qimir had no hostages. He was going about his day on his private ocean planet like he didn't shish kebab two jedi and snap another's neck to prove a point to Mae
Yord observed Qimir closely. He watched as Qimir just stood at the edge of the ocean. He stared off into the distance before removing his robes. He stripped naked, and Yord felt a flush in his face. His heart trembled, and his breath got deeper. Once he recollected himself, he slowly approached. His attention turned to Qimir's lightsaber.
Through the force, he could hear the battle that took place hours earlier. The sound of the blade cutting through some of the most highly skilled Jedi like they were defeneless younglings.
He bent down to put up the saber. It was very well crafted, much lighter than it looked. It fascinated him.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Qimir called out. Yord immediately got defensive. He ignited the blade, staring Qimir down. "You can feel your real power returning, can't you?"
"Don't come any closer!" Yord yelled out. "I won't hesitate."
"If you're not going to join me, I'd like to put my clothes back on." Qimir responded. He fully submerged himself. Yord felt the urge to use the force to keep him there and drown him. The feeling made him smile a bit.
"I know you're considering it." Qimir interupted
Yord snapped back to reality. His eyes met Qimir's. He remembered that the saber was active. He could have stuck Qimir down.
"You're wondering if it's honorable to strike me down?" Qimir started. He stared into Yord's eyes. "In the heat of battle, it's justified. A few hours later? It's vengeance."
Yord got distracted by Qimirs other saber. He snapped back into focus. He didn't mean to stare, but it caught his eye. He turned his head to block it from his vision.
Qimir seemed more offended that Yord looked away. It was just his penis. Yord had a penis too. It wasn't like he flashed him with it. Yord's eyes just innocently gazed.
"Did you kill Sol?" Yord asked Qimir as he just stared at him with disappointment.
"No." He answered
"Did you kill Jecki?" He asked with more concern in his eyes.
"No." Qimir answered. I saw her and Osha get on the ship for Coruscant."
A flash of relief filled Yord's eyes for his little sister. Little Jecki, while always appearing composed, has a violent side to her when she is in a fight. She could probably have defeated Qimir if she had complete control over her emotions.
"Weird you asked about him first." Qimir interupted. "Considering his role in what happened to us."
"I don't know you!" Yord yelled. "You killed my friends!"
"I only killed those who threatened my existence." Qimir responded. He slowly put his pants on, watching Yord's eyes glaze his chest. He walked calmly past Yord as he was putting his shirt on. He expected Yord to follow, which he did. It pleased Qimir to have an old friend with him again.
"Where'd you get that scar?" Yord asked.
"How do you think?" Qimir asked.
"How am I supposed to know? I wasn't there!" Yord snapped
"Not physically. You did feel it, though. Although we were systems apart. You felt my pain. You've got the save scar on your back. They just took your memories and convinced you it was a birth mark."
"Who?" He asked
"The jedi." Qimir responded
"The Jedi wouldn't do that to me!" Yord snapped. Qimir didn't respond. Just looked him in the eyes and smirked. "What's so funny?"
"That you believe that. I find it so cute that you believe that." Qimir replied. "That the Jedi wouldn't do whatever possible to keep themselves in the positive light. Even to you."
"I don't believe you!" Yord replied.
"Then don't. The longer you're here, the faster the effects will wear off. You picked my clothes over your robes. It's already starting."
"You cleaned my robes? And ironed them?" Yord asked innocently.
"Just how you always liked it." Qimir smiled. Despite the mass murder of his friends a few hours before, Qimir's smile and warmth felt genuine. Yord couldn't help but be curious about this bond they once had.
Yord followed Qimir back into his cave. Qimir started making dinner. He gave him a cup of cold water, also just how he liked it. He smelled something familiar. Something he hadn't had in a while. It was an old favorite that he hadn't had in a while.
"Are you trying to seduce me and get my clothes off?" Yord asked.
"Only if that's what you want." Qimir smirked. "Right now, my objective is to remind you of our dyad."
Dyad? Yord thought.
"We were an unstoppable dyad in the force. We could see through each other's eyes, hear what the other can hear even from light years away. Our power was great, and we could have guided the Jedi on a better path to being more compassionate." Qimir started.
"Through our dyad, I could sense that you made a knight two years ago. You took a young Zygerrian girl named Tasi Lowa as your first padawan. You went out of your way to make her feel like she actually belongs."
Yord tensed up at the idea of Qimir knowing about Tasi. He thought of the worst.
"Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt Tasi." Qimir started. "I'd help train her so she would be a powerful warrior. More powerful than both of us. She could be strong enough to take over her planet and start fixing their wrong doings. If she wanted to, of course. It's not her job to fix Zygerria."
"Don't mention Tasi!" Yord got defensive. "Leave her out of this."
"You're so defensive." Qimir observed. He turned his attention to their dinner. "You see her like a little sister. A daughter, maybe?"
"Maybe. Jecki is more of a little sister to me. I guess Tasi is.."
"You always wanted to be a father, Yord." Qimir's face lit up at the memory. "You were always protective of me when we would go on missions. I still believe that you'd be an amazing father if ever given the chance."
Yord sat there with a confused look on his face. Why can't he remember any of this? If Qimir is telling the truth, why can't he remember it. If Qimir was lying, why else would he have kept him alive when he could have easily killed him like they were enemies.
He didn't. He just knocked him unconsciousness then took him to his private retreat and healed him. Gave him fresh clothes and from the smell, is making an old favorite of their's for dinner.
"Cortosis." Qimir changed the subject. He knocked on his helmet with his knuckle. "Good for sensory deprivation and against lightsabers."
"Is that why you were headbutting lightsabers like a mad man?" Yord laughed. He was quite amused by Qimir's antics. He had to admit he respected that cockiness.
"Yes. It also fills your enemies with fear and confusion." Qimir replied, handing Yord a bowl of soup. "Here, remember this? We ate this a lot as padawans."
Yord took a bite and felt a burst of nostalgia. Suddenly, he had a flashback of Plo Koon bringing them food after a successful mission. It was like being a little family. Master Plo and Sol taking them out to lunch with the extra crdits they snuck or saved from the last misson.
Yord smiled, thinking of the times. Master Plo was always patient with him when he was a padawan. Anytime Yord felt frustrated with his progress, Plo Koon took him a side and just let him vent his frustration. It helped him clear his mind so he could focus better when Master Plo went over the lesson again with him.
"Give it a shot." Qimir interupted handing his helmet to Yord. "It'll help you unlock more memories. Your memories are yours and should always have been."
"I don't trust you." Yord said immediately. It slipped out and made him feel bad.
"I don't blame you." Qimir shrugged, trying to appear unfazed. He knew Yord could see past his act. "I've willingly done things that have killed your trust. It'll take a while to earn back. It may not completely come back. Trust is like glass. Even if you fix it, the cracks are still visible. It can truly never be whole again."
Yord remembered Qimir's fondness for poetry. As younglings, they'd stay up under their blankets with a flashlight and read poems Qimir found. It brought a smile to his smile. His dimples amused Qimir. He smiled, too.