Laphisto stood at the edge of the landing pad, accompanied by a small detail of Lilaste Order soldiers. Behind them, the heart of Bastion was alive with motion cranes arched across skeletal buildings, sparks flared from welders suspended high above the rubble, and the rhythmic thrum of generators echoed across the ruined skyline. In the wake of
the sartinaynian crisis, the Lilaste Order, working shoulder to shoulder with Diarchy personnel, had committed fully to restoring the once-great capital to working order.
As the Jedi's shuttle settled with a hiss of hydraulics and its boarding ramp lowered, Laphisto's eyes took on a sudden teal-blue glow. His
Force Sight activated without conscious thought, instinctively peeling back the surface of the newcomer. He wasn't trying to pry -not exactly- but the Force had its own rhythm, and through it, Laphisto felt the Jedi's alignment, steady as a heartbeat. He allowed the current to wash over him, reading not the Jedi's thoughts, but the shape of their intent.
When the Jedi stepped forward and extended a hand in greeting, Laphisto's gaze flicked downward, and he returned the gesture with a gloved, taloned hand. His sheer size became apparent as he drew closer towering over seven foot eight, with wings shifting restlessly behind him and a long, scaled tail curling lightly at his side. Despite his formidable appearance, there was a certain grace in his movements, almost ceremonial. Dipping into a respectful bow, Laphisto brought his closed fist to his chest and spoke in a steady, gravel-edged voice.
"Master Jedi. I'm glad you made it to Bastion safely. I tried to make your journey to the surface as simple as possible. You were given my personal clearance codes meant to spare you from the usual bureaucratic nonsense." His tone was formal, but not cold. There was a weight to his words that suggested care, or at least a recognition of shared burdens.
He turned and motioned for the Jedi to follow him down a partially cleared walkway. The surrounding construction formed a maze of temporary scaffolding, makeshift tents, and power conduits snaking across cracked ferrocrete. As they walked, the glow faded from Laphisto's eyes, leaving them narrowed into a Glair - or perhaps he was squinting?- . To those familiar with the condition, the subtle signs of carbonite poisoning might be recognizable in the haze that lingered behind his stare.
"
So," he said, voice shifting to something lighter, with the edge of a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "
your message said you were seeking to expand your knowledge of other cultures. I take it the rest of my kin weren't exactly eager to chat?"
He chuckled softly, a dry, low sound, paired with a slow shake of his head it was a small joke on his behalf, considering he could very well be the last of his species "Well," he continued, a trace of amusement still in his voice, "
I'll do what I can to answer your questions. Just know I was raised in the Jedi Temple on Ossus, so my knowledge of my own people might be… fragmented at best."
He glanced sidelong at the Jedi as they passed a group of Diarchy engineers working alongside Lilaste techs to calibrate a shield emitter. The hiss of plasma welders and the murmur of foreign languages drifted through the air like a song half-forgotten. "
But I've lived long enough to collect some truths… and unearth a few lies," he added, more to himself than his guest, before returning his gaze forward as the city of Bastion slowly stirred to life around them.
Shan