Barriss Offee: Remnants of the War

Return of the Jedi

The Mirialan gazed fiercely at the young Padawan who stood fixed and imposing before her. His primitive look of fear and confusion replaced by remarkable virtues of valour; vigil, albeit gleaming with vigilance and virtuoso. His presence almost an embodiment of light towards the bleak darkness that cowered within her; rash, impulsive, and ravenous for deploying her lunacy when subdued from restraints.

Miniature whooshes of sultry wind encased the heavenly soul, as though releasing ominous flashes of gas upon the knight of prodigious honour. His face embedded with a liberal stare in grievance to perspiring sweat imparted by the atmosphere of an irritating steam.

Caleb replied with only the sheer glimpse of diligence, as he slowly raised, and inserted the needle with austere precision, concentration, surveillance. It erupted a tormenting shriek from the blubbering beak of her cavity. A benevolent bolt of bliss began to embark from within. Its beam seemed to be exhausting the everlasting void of gloom.

Luminara's soul bubbled as she swiftly dashed towards the crumpling, unstable shrieking of her Padawan. Alleviating to her deranged fury which she manifested by the immense quagswagging of her limbs, as though an infant in conflict from her temper tantrum.

Barriss' jubilant mind rewound itself back to the contented memories of her past, reminding her of the last time she'd truthfully peeked with her own eyes. The twinkle of glee reviewed the joyous remarks bestowed upon her by the accordance of pleasant flashbacks. She recollected the aspiring charisma of her master, her valour at war, every time they were led into the field of peril.

There was also the amenity from her war brothers, their contentious personas, ameliorating each siege, each battle, each warfront. Soldiers that were expandable and tamed, fluent to orders and respecting to command. They were so very kind, indulgently protective, and much more than the obnoxious fallout that had become of them. They had numerous experiences together, whether it was deploying bombs across squadrons, or chanting in 'Truth or Dare' games, they never backed down, never split away, never dismissed friendship, until that final battle, when it all fell apart.

Tears began to dye her glittery, blue eyes, yet she let them strain her soppy cheeks, obliterating the plentiful decade of training and discipline, indubitably eradicating the demand for resistance.

Then promptly, she found herself mangled against one of the harshest blows. Its scalding heat tearing an unsubtle burn onto her glossy green face-gems as she revised the remnants of Geonosis, her inextricable bond with ally Ahsoka, the everlasting struggle to seek a breach from their dept. Though somehow, they'd survived amidst the horrors of war.

Barriss firmly shut her watery eyes in protest to the abiding sobs in hopes of ridding the lingering chafes, the dominating chafes which bled her heart, engraving concealed scars within her.

Caleb fortuitously amended to her wounds. He stretched far into her discharge of fear, and like a wizard, casted a spell that reduced her tears. He shamelessly stepped forward, and with a henchman's strength, unbounded her ropes. He willingly tipped inches closer, then without doubting, squashed her into a kind, cushy, cuddled-up hug.

Her reverberated cries furrowed whilst her tone narrowed. Her pierced, vibrato lips slowly absorbed the last of her sorrow as her clutch cumulatively clenched. Her eyelids gradually lifted, binding intimately amongst his touch. And with her concluding potency, outstretched her light hands to extract his vendor.

It was exceedingly scarce and eccentric that a woman so sophisticated, so tenacious could fall easily victim to the compelling fortitude of despair, yet apprehensive and quick to return.

An enlightening breeze wrung a kiss onto Barriss' cheeks, as though a fragile spurt which erupted from Caleb's form. It almost conveyed the avid passion and scandalous love he bore in his brain's pouch, but he knew better than to display his pride, or it may forever tarnish the perception she has on him.

Luminara's forehead throbbed with an abnormal pain. She approached it ardently and bemoaned to its berated, bold tone, almost wobbling backwards had she not limped back into existence.

Blinking twice, she intended to reacquire her vision, though she paused and swiftly gazed upon the perpetual sandstorm which deteriorated an endless vacuum of desolate space. But of whom had it derived? What amorphous issue could have caused such an abrupt shift in the force?

Then she distinguished the frightful threat, the peculiar voice had originated from within. It wasn't from the cruel illusions which bounded her into a cracked, crumpled, catastrophe, it was the fear that had tattered her senses, it was the Jedi herself. She had obligated the atrocity into reality; the constrained, pulverized brutality, constructing her image of a forbidden, Mirialan-Human bond.

Their relationship was imminent, she had foreseen it. They were to penetrate one another as more than just friends. They were to reach across borders in an attempt to signify their intricate ties. They may be required to pave through the cipher if necessary. Finally, they would omit the elusive mentality of a Jedi when imperative, and inevitably be defined as love-smitten partners.

With her persistent mind-set, it was vital for the two to remain hidden. Mandatory in hurdling across her interference, for she would never concede such a tragic outset of treason.