A Message of Ill Intent [Jedi]

[Darth Carnifex]

The War between the Jedi and the Sith had been raging for nearly seven years now, and there had been countless casualties on either side as entire worlds were ravaged the machines of war collided on the fields of battle, leaving nothing but ruination in their wake. However; there were some soldiers, Jedi even, that had been reported as just missing. Whether they were actually MIA or had been killed in such a gruesome fashion that they could no be identified was a common debate between the generals of the Republic, but all efforts to successfully locate such missing individuals had been fruitless so far. Many had given up in the search and gone on to continue in the war against the Sith and their vile Empire, but the thoughts of those that had been lost and never found lingered on the minds of many.

And there was a glimmer of hope.

A distress beacon belonging to a Jedi Padawan who had gone MIA suddenly activated and began to blare a silent signal across space and time. Triangulating the beacon's location was simple, and many were bewildered to discover that it was coming from Ossus, more specifically the Great Temple that acted as the Jedi Academy on the planet's surface. Dispatching a local task force of Republic soldiers and Jedi to investigate they would discover the horrific remains of the Padawan who the distress beacon belonged to. He was hung from the trapezoid arch marking the entrance to the Jedi Academy, a thick chain wrapped around his neck attached to a hook deeply embedded into the stone archway. His body was gruesomely mutilated, his body bare and covered with a plethora of scars and burns, dismembered, eviscerated, and his face frozen in a perpetual wail of pure agony as his blank dead eyes stared at nothing.

A single word had been carved clearly into the Padawan's chest.

"Failure."

[member="Corvus Raaf"]

 

[Vivienne Zambrano]

Pain.

The screeching, blaring echo of the force seemed to tear into the girl's mind. Something was wrong. Horribly, terribly, utterly wrong. This wasn't the first time this had happened to her. In fact, her headaches were as common as could be these days. While she didn't know it... they were because of the ripples sent out by various insidious acts. Most of them, also unknown to her, were caused by her father. What a 'glorious' thing. Whenever crowds or entire worlds cried out in harmony she felt it. Felt them reach out into the void, asking, nay, begging for help. So with the discovery of the maimed body came yet another wave of discomfort.

"Someone... someone is hurting..." Vivienne mumbled, one hand massaging her temples. Now quite worried the youngling slowly got off of her bed, slipping into her boots, before moving towards the door. Surely someone would be able to help her understand what was going on? If not she could at least go to the healers about her migraine. They were always happy to help with things. Without them her injured leg (the one that had been broken in Chaos) would still be preventing her from walking. At least now she could move around, even if she had to limp a bit. Her gait was off as she made her way down the hallway.

Part of her wondered if the hurt was an okay hurt. The kind that people had when they were just so happy that they didn't know how to handle it. Like when people cried at weddings or when a baby is born. She really hoped it was one of those. All she wanted was to have everyone be fine- and to have Nyx come home soon. Just the other day she had overheard people talking about her old friend. They had been hurting too. But it wasn't a good hurt and that had worried her. Did it have something to do with the stone with the Zorren's name on it outside the Academy?... Vivienne had to wonder why that was there. Someone had told her it wasn't a good thing.

She hoped no more name-stones had popped up.
[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Kana Truden]

The whispers, the looks on the students faces as Kana passed them by didn’t bring her any good feelings for the day. Not that any were to be had over the last few weeks. A beacon from a Padawan had sprung up, but the call wasn’t coming from anywhere remote. It was coming from their own front lawn. Kana followed a group of knights as they walked through the courtyard. By the curiosity and apprehension on their mind it was clear that their destination was just about the same as the rest of the academy.

Yet upon entering the clearing they were met with gasps as the crowd in front of them caught sight of what it was that had caused the distress signal to flare up. Kana hesitated, she had her suspicion. The mixture of horror and surprise was overwhelming, the surprise wouldn’t be a good one and she should have known better than to carefully take a peek at the body that hung in front of her.

Images flashed in front of her.

There is a knock on her door. A youngling has bruised his entire body during leaping practice and his friends had helped his wobbling, crying form over to the clinic. Kana runs her hand up and down the boy’s arm in an effort to comfort him but the boy’s tears just won’t stop and only too late does she realize that the arm she stroked was covered in bruises much like the rest of the kid.

A weak smile spreads on the healer’s lips as she hushed the whimpers. Her hand once more places itself on his black-and-blue shoulder. The kid twitches and groans but the healer persists. A look of unease spreads on the apprentice yet it quickly fades as the tranquility of the force seeps into his body. Kana works her magic.

“This is a magic trick I learned from a ghost, you know.” She chimes up in an effort to lighten the mood. “Just relax, Jake. Don’t fight it.”

The boy gives off a small smile as bruise for bruise slowly begins to fade from his body. It didn’t take long for things to get better and after a while he stops Kana from doing the rest of the procedure.

“I got it from here.” He says as he turns to his friend again. “Thanks, Goran. You too, Master Truden.”

Kana smiles and ruffles the padawan’s hair. “Off you go then, kid.”

Tears spread and blurred the healer’s vision. A hand reached up to wipe it away only for her eyes to set on the message carved into Padwan Ferran’s chest.

Failure.

Kana collapsed to the ground. This was all her fault.

 

[Vivienne Zambrano]

Whispers.

Voices clung to the halls, breaking through thin walls, finding her with ease. People murmured and mumbled. Others bit back yelps while holding in tears. What had happened? Was there another name-stone to worry about? No... this felt different. Panic seemed widespread in the Academy as students shuffled about. This wasn't just another engraved rock showing up by the cliff. When Nyx had vanished people hadn't been this nervous. They hadn't been so... so upset. Whatever had happened was far worse, or at least it affected far more people than the Knight's 'disappearance'. Had one of the masters fallen ill or been injured? Perhaps, though Vivienne wasn't sure they would be taken here.

A frown crossed her lips as she fell in with a group of Knights heading to the courtyard. Pain still shot through her head, and with every step her limp bothered her more. Still she desired to see what was going on. Such was the way of the stubborn youngling. One day the trait was bound to get her into all sorts of trouble. Based off what seemed to be going on... it may very well be the day her nature made things harder. Of course the thought didn't cross her mind. The little Zambrano was far to focused on not getting trampled by the older (and taller) students. It seemed like they were to focused to really notice her being there.

What a shame, for if they had seen her, they surely wouldn't have let her see what the Sith had brought. Yet no one saw the youngling passing underfoot. Even as they stopped to gawk at the strung up corpse they ignored the small girl slipping through the crowd. By the time a Master did see her it was far, far to late. Vivienne was already at the front of the group. As a breath seemed to catch in her throat she looked up at the bloody mess before it... Why did it seem so familiar? For her the body was far to mangled to recognize who it was. Or at least who it had been, back before it had been destroyed like this. Then it hit her.

Chaos.

This wasn't that different than some of the things she had seen during her trip to hell. And yet it still sent shivers down her spine, another round of pain to her head, and a single tear to her eyes. Maybe it wasn't the actual sight of it. Maybe it was the realization that this was what had caused the echo. That this was making all of her friends so sad. Once more she tried to move forward, noting the woman who had fallen to the floor. I need to help, thought Vivienne, I need to make sure she's okay. Before she could one of the other Jedi had grabbed her sleeve to pull her back with. Whoever it was said something about going back to the dormitory.

"I can't," she said with a firm tone, "I have to help." The amount of determination and command she managed to put into so few words was rather surprising. Enough so that she had no trouble removing herself from the person's grasp. With that dealt with she moved on. Despite feeling rather sickened by what she saw she wanted to make sure the woman was doing okay. What kind of friend would she be if she didn't? A bad one. Probably. "Miss?" It wasn't hard to tell the Jedi was crying. Her emotions were trickling past barriers, evident to the girl, to the others near them. There was something else too. Something perhaps worse than sadness:

Guilt.

"Miss? It's alright miss..." Quietly the child moved to place a gentle hand on her companion's shoulder. From what she could remember that was what her mother used to do to calm her down. What else though? What could she do to help?... "Maybe we should go back inside. You need to breathe, miss. It's alright..." There was really only one other thing she could think to do. Something made her think it wouldn't be appropriate. Was singing bad to do in a situation like this?... And if it helped? Mom singing always made me happy. Maybe if she just sang softly. Just loud enough for the one besides her to hear. Just so she would feel better. That would be okay, right?

"It's alright. This isn't our fault. You'll be fine, just hold on for the night..."
[member="Darth Vornskr"], [member="Kana Truden"]

 

[Kana Truden]

“I’m okay.” Kana told herself and the kid. “I just, wasn’t ready for the... That.”

Lies.

It was hard to be ready for it in any way. To see the corpse of someone you had cared for wasn’t a sight you got yourself ‘ready’ for. Much less so the mutilated corpse of a student from an enclave you had left because of the memories in hopes that it wouldn’t haunt you forever. In that regard Kana wasn’t alright, it was obvious to anyone nearby and as much as she wanted to pretend that she was there was still the matter of the corpse that belonged to Padawan Jake Ferran that was now dangling over their heads.

It all felt like a step back to the days when she told herself that it indeed was all her fault. Khaleel had told her about this. Said the Jedi should have evacuated Ruusan while they still could. To get out before the Sith went for her and her friends and the enclave. Yet Kana hadn’t done anything with the knowledge she held; she did worse than nothing. She refused on the principle that the Jedi were needed on Ruusan. Now here she was and some people were telling her that it wasn’t her fault? What did they know?

Nothing.

“I’m okay.” Her breath stuttered. “Just perfectly okay.”

The healer looked at [member="Vivienne Zambrano"]. “He’s dead. Jake Ferran didn’t escape, he was abducted.”

 

[Vivienne Zambrano]

I'm okay.

It didn't sound true to her. Nay, it seemed like a lie intended to assure her that things were okay. Some adults tended to do such things, trying to seem strong, not willing to let their feelings show. Vivienne usually found the idea silly. In this case... with all the emotions flying about... in this case she thought she understood. The woman was a Master. Others were looking to her for guidance. And she had to try to stay strong for them, no matter the turmoil she may be feeling inside. Of course it sounded much simpler in her head. To the child it was just 'I understand'. In her mind she thought that the woman was much like a mother, the other Jedi being her children, or at least her kin.

She had lost a kid. Now she was kneeling before their destroyed body, perhaps wondering if, or thinking that it was their fault. It wasn't any of the Jedi's fault. Whoever killed the boy killed the boy. When it came to things like this... if they hadn't killed him they would have killed another. Vivienne didn't know that. But she knew that whoever did it was a bad, bad person. Someone who had probably fallen far to far to ever be saved. Some would say that they weren't worthy of any attempts at redemption. Maybe they were right. If Jake Ferran hadn't been given a chance to live, then why should his killer get one? 'Twas an understandable way of thinking. Still the Zambrano child refrained from thinking for to long about morals.

Such things were to complicated for someone her age, really.

"He's dead. Jake Ferran didn't escape, he was abducted." So she had known the victim... That much had been assumed already. Yet it still added depth to the whole thing. For the Master the pain of loss was more than it was for most. Where others saw a faceless relative, she surely saw memories, moments that would seem more important now than ever before. Another layer of guilt was likely added. Anytime someone loses one they know, they always wonder if they could have changed things somehow. Always. And when it came to abductions things were harder. People thought of searches, rescue missions, prevention efforts. Guilt was a hungry beast more rhan capable of feeding on this event.

"His soul will find peace, miss. He'll be coming home anytime now," Vivienne said, remembering what her mother had told her when their pet had died. "There'll be a party for him. All of his old friends will be there, waiting to welcome him, glad to take his spirit somewhere happy." She didn't know what heaven was. But her mother had described it more than she'd ever realize. Maybe the woman would understand what the kid meant. "Mom told me that good people get to go to a good place when they pass. Where no one can hurt them. She said that we... we just have to thank them for spending some time with us and remember that... that it's not our fault when bad people do bad things. I think she said that we just gotta do good things when we can. To help make it up to them."

Her voice was soft, and to mature for her age. Then again her words weren't all her own. Even though her mother had done bad things... she had still been good enough to give advice.
[member="Kana Truden"], [member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Kana Truden]

Searches, unthought of. Rescue missions, unneeded. Prevention efforts, pointless. Kana had thought of each solution so many times and always drawn the same conclusion. That didn’t mean the woman could lend a kid a thankful smile nonetheless. Kana got up from the ground and straightened her jumpsuit. The others were looking at her and she simply turned on her feet to dive through the crowds and head back to the greater courtyard.

This was where she had retreated to. Home number one. She used to feel safe here, it felt like the most logical place to withdraw to. People were still on Ruusan, obviously, but Kana couldn’t stay. Each room was like a collection of her life as a healer. It was a place where no matter where she was she never felt alone and at the very least it was a place that she could call her home.

Built out of stone. Her clinic had been fitted with wooden floors and walls to make it a bit softer. She’d always told herself she would dust off the furniture in the waiting hall but that day never came. She took a seat on a bench by a tree. Branches by the color of green offered a small measure of cool to the sun burning away at the pale woman’s skin. If she closed her eyes she could almost dream herself away.

But the memories kept her grounded as the world seemed to fade back into the dark gray mess it truly was.

“Thanks.” Kana finally spoke to the kid. Her voice still shook and shivered along with her entire body. “I hope you’re right. I really do.”

Kana planted her hands on her knees and buried her face in the palms of her hands as she tried to think of who would do something like this. Probably half the One Sith, but surely there had to be someone more specific to blame. Part of her wanted vengeance, the other answers. Not that she would pursue either.

All Kana had was time.

[member="Vivienne Zambrano"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

As the body was carefully taken down from the archway, a dagger was found protruding from the padawan's back and attached to it was a note. The parchment was wrinkled, yellowed with age, and the words written upon its surface were hateful and inscribed in an ink that resembled the color of blood. Whether or not the message was written in the Padawan's own blood could not be determined at this point, they'd need to run a tests to accurately determine that gruesome tidbit. Anyways, as the body was lowered, the dagger was removed carefully and the message examined by a cadre of Jedi Knights who gathered around to read in hushed whispers so that the younger individuals who happened to stumble upon the vile scene couldn't hear.

The message read as such:

"Poor little scamp.​

He was all tuckered out half-way through our play date.​

So I decided to send him back home.​

I hope the next one I play with doesn't get tired so easily.​

Ruins all the fun.​

​

~V"​

​

[member="Kana Truden"]
[member="Vivienne Zambrano"]
[member="Corvus Raaf"]