Private Arrival

[Razh Sho]

Coruscant Spaceport, Midday.

The sky is streaked with traffic lanes. The relic hunters' vessel—a battered but functional freighter—settles onto the landing pad with a hiss of stabilizers and heat-venting steam. The ramp lowers. Razh Sho descends with deliberate grace, his robes still slightly tattered from his long entombment, utility belt bare of lightsaber, but his bearing unbroken. His lekku shifted behind him like banners in still air. Flanking him are the relic hunters, already eyeing the Jedi delegation with the greedy caution of those who know negotiations may sour at any moment.

At the front of the Jedi welcoming party stands Grandmaster Valery Noble. Her presence is serene but unmistakably sharp, like a blade sheathed in silk. Her large, fiery, orange eyes are fixed on Razh Sho, which is unreadable.

Razh Sho came to a stop before her, inclining his head. "Grandmaster Noble!" assumed that was who he was talking to from the exchange of holo messages. "The last time I stood on Coruscant, the Jedi Temple still bore the scent of incense and war. Now it greets me with suspicion." Which, of course, was understandable. Razh was reported MIA 477 years ago. There was nothing normal about this situation.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery stood still at the center of the landing platform, posture straight and expression unreadable — save for the way her arms were folded and her eyes remained fixed on the Twi'lek descending the ramp. Behind her, the Coruscant skyline rose in spires of durasteel and transparisteel, bathed in the glow of midday light.

She looked every part the Grandmaster: black jumpsuit sleek and modern, lightsaber at her hip, the breeze catching strands of hair that had slipped from her ponytail. Strong. Composed. Quietly alert. When Razh Sho stepped forward and spoke, Valery didn't answer right away.

Her eyes narrowed just slightly — not in hostility, but in study. And then, slowly, her stance shifted. The tension in her shoulders eased. The corners of her lips curved upward, just a bit. She unfolded her arms and stepped forward, gaze softening as she spoke to him, "You're not wrong," she said quietly, voice calm and clear. "Suspicion is a language this era speaks fluently. But I don't blame it — we've survived war, betrayal, darkness that wore too many familiar faces."

She paused in front of him and inclined her head in return.

"But I also know what it's like to open your eyes after centuries, only to realize everything has changed. That the people you knew are gone. That history moved on." Her gaze met his again. "So I'd rather greet you with understanding."

Valery extended her hand.

"Welcome back, Master Sho. You've got a lot to catch up on... but you're not alone."

Razh Sho ​

 

[Razh Sho]

Coruscant – Galactic Spaceport Terminal


The Jedi Temple loomed in the distance like a memory rising from fog. But Razh Sho stood now not in ceremony or comfort, but in administration, beside the docking struts of the relic hunters' freighter, flanked by Republic officials and Jedi Watchers in muted robes. The air here was clinical, full of datapads and quiet suspicion. A part of him felt eased by the Grandmaster's admission of having had the same life-altering experience as he had.

The relic hunters were growing impatient.

"We brought you a frozen Jedi, didn't we?" snapped their captain, arms crossed, datapad in hand. "Alive, mostly intact, and in style. We were promised compensation."

Razh stood calmly between them and the Jedi delegation, his long cloak stirring faintly in the breeze of passing hovercraft. He offered the captain a composed nod.

"I will see that you're paid." He paused, "Though I am, at present, not a man with a credit to his name."

The hunter scoffed. "Convenient."

Razh's eyes gleamed coolly. "Is it? My Chain Code was archived before your grandparents' grandparents were born. My accounts, titles, and holdings—erased, forgotten, or absorbed by interest. I am, for all legal purposes..."He turned slightly to the Jedi officials handling the process."...a ghost requesting an audience with the living."

He turned his attention to Valery's inquisitive gaze."If it were not for the Code, Grandmaster," he said with faint amusement, "I might accuse the Order of losing my paperwork."

A small terminal was rolled forward. A tech droned the list of confirmations.

"Please present your hand for fingerprint verification."

Razh complied, placing a blue-skinned palm on the sensor. It chirped.

"DNA sample, please."

He extended his hand, allowing a Jedi medic to extract a microblood sample carefully.

"Final biometric—facial scan for Chain Code match."

He stood, expression neutral, as the scan swept his features.

A beat. Then a soft tone.

MATCH CONFIRMED – JEDI MASTER RAZH SHO – ARCHIVED: 385 ABY

The terminal pinged. A record flared to life in the temple databanks, showing Razh Sho's credentials—rank, saber style, diplomatic records, and mission logs from centuries ago. The relic hunters perked up instantly.

"Well, then," said the captain, grinning, "it looks like your Order still owes us."

Razh Sho gave a slight grin, entertained by the captain's impatience and insecurities."You will be paid. I am certain the Jedi Treasury will transfer funds to the account you have given me. You are dismissed Captain." The Twi'lek safely assumed that the Grandmaster would approve of the credit transfer.

The relic hunters departed without a backward glance, credit-bound and satisfied.

Razh turned to her fully now.
"You mentioned..." he began slowly, "...that you have known hibernation. Long absence."


Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery inclined her head slightly as the terminal chirped and the confirmation rang out — Razh Sho, Jedi Master, archived and now restored. The sound was oddly satisfying. Proof that time may scatter names to the winds, but not all of them are forgotten. With a subtle hand gesture to the Temple clerk nearby, she confirmed the captain's payment without needing a word. The credits would be wired. The relic hunters could go — and they did, eagerly.

Her attention returned to Razh, softer now. She regarded him with a quiet patience, her arms folding loosely again in front of her. The breeze picked up, tugging lightly at her long hair.

"I wasn't born in this era either," she said, tone more personal than before. "I'm from the time of the Old Republic. Fought in the wars of my age. Stood at the side of an Order that no longer exists."

Her eyes met his, golden and calm.

"Four thousand years," she said, like it was a number she still hadn't quite made peace with. "I was kept in stasis aftter a battle on Onderon — an act of desperation, really. To keep me alive after I was injured."

She extended her arm in invitation, this time not for a handshake — but for a walk.

"Would you join me? The Temple's changed a lot since your time, but… it remembers you. Just like the Force does."She gestured gently toward the towering structure behind her — ancient roots, modern frame, and all the weight of memory between.

"Come. Let's get you reacquainted."

Razh Sho ​

 

[Razh Sho]

Razh Sho regarded her silently for a moment. The steady hum of the Coruscanti skyline buzzed faintly in the distance, but between them, there was only the sound of breath and the quiet murmur of history resurfacing.

"Four thousand years..." he echoed, not in disbelief but reverence. His voice was low, reflective. "Your stasis was born of desperation. Mine was a punishment."

He let the words linger. No bitterness—only the quiet weight of truth. His eyes, sharp but weathered, searched hers. "Yet we both woke in a time not our own. Survivors, not of war, but of memory."

He stepped forward and took the offered path beside her, his gait slow but dignified, the folds of his cloak trailing like the tail of a comet long thought lost.

"The Temple may have changed..." he said, glancing up at its new architecture rising from old bones, "...but so have we."

A pause, then softer

"Perhaps what remains of the old—within us—is meant to challenge the shape of the new. Not to oppose it..." he glanced at her sidelong "...but to help it grow stronger."

He clasped his hands behind his back, posture straight, his voice thoughtful.

"Tell me, Grandmaster... in these four thousand years, has the Force grown quieter? Or have we merely grown worse at listening?"

The question had no judgment—only a rare honesty from long silence and more extended reflection.

And as the two Jedi walked together beneath the shadow of the great Temple, time did not feel linear. It folded quietly between their steps, like the Force itself was listening.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery walked in step with him, her pace slow, deliberate — not out of caution, but respect. Respect for the weight he carried, and the time between them both. Her hands rested loosely behind her back, and her gaze lifted with his to the Temple's towering spires.

When he spoke, she glanced at him — not startled by the confession of punishment, but marked by it. And yet, she didn't press. She had her own ghosts. Her own regrets. The Force had long since taught her that the stories carried in silence were often heavier than the ones told aloud.

His question, though — that stirred something deeper.

"I think the Force is just as loud as it's ever been," she said, her eyes distant. "But the galaxy?" Her lips curled faintly, somewhere between a smile and a frown. "It's noisier now. Louder. Faster. We build, we fight, we chase progress at the cost of stillness." Her eyes shifted to him again.

"So maybe it's not that the Force has grown quiet — it's that we've forgotten how to be still long enough to truly hear it." Another step. The Temple gates loomed closer now. And behind her words, there was something personal — not doctrine, but hard-earned wisdom from long years of burning both ends of herself to keep others safe.

Razh Sho ​

 

[Razh Sho]

Razh Sho walked in silence for a moment longer, the slow rhythm of their steps echoing gently beneath the towering archways. The sun, now cresting Coruscant's endless skyline, poured gold across the durasteel and stone, catching in the folds of their robes like firelight caught in memory. His gaze remained fixed on the Temple spires, but beyond them, too, on something far older than stone and ceremony.

Then he spoke, his voice soft, carved from reflection more than conviction: "Stillness is a discipline."He glanced at her, the curve of one brow slightly raised."One many mistakes for passivity."

He paused beside a broad column etched with high-relief symbols of Jedi history—some he recognized from his own time, others newer, layered over like a palimpsest of intention. "When I was young, we taught stillness like breath—first to be mastered, then forgotten in motion. Now, it seems it must be fought for. Protected. Like a species on the edge of extinction."

His expression shifted—not bitter, but contemplative.

"Perhaps the Force hasn't changed at all. Perhaps it waits, as it always has… patient. Eternal. It's the listener who must evolve—or remember how to listen." He exhaled quietly, almost a laugh, but with no amusement. "And now we walk among stars that no longer remember our names. Teaching Padawans to hear in a galaxy that only teaches them to speak louder."

He turned to Valery fully then, and for a flicker of a moment, his mask of composure gave way to something open, sincere, wounded but intact.

"You've held stillness through four thousand years of motion. That is no small feat." His voice softened, nearly reverent. "Perhaps the Order needs fewer warriors… and more listeners."

The Temple gates yawned open ahead, casting long shadows at their feet. As they stepped forward, Razh Sho glanced sideways once more, the faintest smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Tell me, Grandmaster—when you find stillness… what do you hear?"

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery's gaze lingered on the carvings as they passed — layers of history etched into stone, old voices speaking through every line. Some she knew. Others, even after four thousand years, were strangers. But they all whispered the same thing: we were here. We tried. We believed. Her pace didn't falter, but her head turned slightly at his question. The softness in his voice — the weight behind it — invited something deeper than doctrine. So she didn't answer right away. Not with words.

She let the silence stretch a little longer. And then, quietly, as their steps echoed through the arching corridor of the Temple's heart, she spoke.

"When I find stillness," Valery said, her voice low, "I hear laughter." She turned her head toward him, a small, almost shy smile playing at her lips.

"My daughters. My sons. Voices calling out across the grass. Splashes in a lake. Jokes and babbles that don't make any sense." A soft breath left her, more a sigh than a laugh. "I hear Kahlil's voice, too. Steady. Grounded. Reminding me that it's okay to rest. That I don't have to carry it all alone."

Her hand briefly touched the front of her outfit, near where her heart beat steady — the memory resting beneath. "They're not just my stillness. They're my clarity. They remind me why I fight. Why I serve. Not for duty. Not for legacy. But because every family deserves to feel safe. Every child deserves to laugh without fear. Every parent deserves the chance to come home." She looked forward again as they passed beneath one of the taller archways, light streaming through the upper windows to cast long shadows across the marble floor.

"The Force doesn't always speak in riddles or visions. Sometimes… it's just the echo of love, refusing to be quiet." They reached the inner hall, where the Temple began to open into wide spaces filled with light and purpose. Padawans crossed in quiet pairs. Masters conferred in corners. Droids hummed softly between them, carrying messages, supplies, memories.

Valery slowed slightly, then glanced at Razh again, warmth in her eyes.

"That's what I hear," she said gently. "And I think… maybe the galaxy needs more of that, too."

Razh Sho ​

 

[Razh Sho]

Razh walked in silence beside her, the soft rhythm of their steps threading through the temple's quiet grandeur. Her words had stirred something — not pain, not quite — but memory. Echoes.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet. Measured.

"I remember that sound," he said. "Laughter. Rain on stone. My brother's voice, shouting over wind." He let the thought settle between them, like dust caught in light. "I chased silence, thinking it would bring clarity. But all I found was distance."

They passed beneath a vaulted arch, light pooling around their feet like water.

"Perhaps the Force was never quiet," he said. "I simply forgot what it meant to listen without bracing for war."

He glanced toward her then—not seeking agreement, just acknowledgment- and stepped forward again.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery walked with him through the light, her steps slow but certain, her eyes fixed gently ahead. His words carried the weight of years — of battles fought in both body and spirit. She didn't rush to speak up. There was something sacred in the silence they shared, the kind that didn't demand anything, only offered.

And then, as they moved past another set of arching pillars, she spoke again, her voice low, but touched with something warm and unshaken.

"The Force doesn't ask us to be still," she said. "It asks us to be present. To listen, like you said… but not just for warnings, or for signs of war. For life, too. For the quiet moments we soemtimes try to outrun." She glanced at him, her gaze soft but clear. "Distance feels safer, sometimes. I know that. When everything's been taken — or when you've given everything — it's easy to believe that peace lives in silence. But it doesn't. Not really."

Her hand brushed lightly along the edge of one of the carved stone columns as they passed, fingers tracing the patterns worn smooth by time. "Peace lives in connection. In letting yourself feel without fearing what you'll lose. Without bracing for the next fight." She let the thought linger, her pace slowing just enough to match his more closely.

"I think you've already started listening again," Valery added, turning her eyes to him, steady as ever. "Not for war. Not for what's gone. But for what's still here. And maybe that's the beginning of something better."

A small smile curved at the corner of her lips.

"Maybe the distance doesn't have to be so far anymore."

Razh Sho ​

 

[Razh Sho]

Razh Sho walked in silence beside her, the long folds of his cloak catching faintly in the warm Temple breeze. Her words hung between them, unhurried and undemanding — like leaves settling slowly onto still water. He did not rush to answer. Makashi trained the body to wait for the right opening; life trained the spirit to do the same. His gaze drifted to the worn stone under their feet, the intricate carvings half-faded by centuries. Symbols that once shouted their meaning now whispered only to those who listened closely enough.

And then, without breaking stride, he spoke — low, steady, a voice shaped not by pride, but by concession. "You are likely correct, Grandmaster." He said it with no hesitation, but with the quiet respect owed to truth hard-won.

He turned his head slightly toward her, lekku brushing against the folds of his cloak. "The long slumber... it preserved my body, but it has hollowed something else."A breath."To sleep while the galaxy spins onward, to wake and find every name, every place, every bond turned to ash…"His voice did not tremble; it softened, like a blade lowered in exhaustion."It teaches the mind that distance is safety. That silence is survival."

They passed beneath a towering arch, the light changing for a moment — shadow to sun, sun to shadow.

He exhaled slowly. "But survival is not peace. I have known both. They are not the same." He glanced at her then, and for the first time, the faintest wryness touched his otherwise composed features — a ghost of a smile, brief and genuine. "You have the eyes of one who has walked too far to be deceived by hollow comforts."

A pause.

"Perhaps… it is time I allow the distance to shorten. One step at a time." He let the thought settle between them, unforced. No sweeping vow. No dramatic revelation. Only a decision, quiet and enduring — the way stone eventually yields to the patient insistence of water.

As they continued their walk through the sun-dappled halls of the Temple, Razh Sho let his posture relax ever so slightly, as if the weight he carried had, for the first time in centuries, become just a little lighter.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery listened, her silence respectful, yet not distant. Every word Razh offered was like stone placed with care — deliberate, steady, and real. She could feel the shift in him, not just in what he said, but in what he allowed himself to admit. And it stirred something in her, too — that quiet recognition of wounds carried too long, of battles fought in the silence of one's own heart.

As they passed beneath the arch and into the shifting light, her eyes remained forward for a moment, watching how the sun played through the ancient windows, casting fractured patterns on the floor. The galaxy spun on, as he had said. But here, in this moment, something had paused.

She turned her head toward him, her expression soft, but with a strength that didn't need to be spoken, "You survived," she said, not as praise, but as truth. "And that matters. But you're right — survival isn't peace. And it shouldn't have to be the only thing you carry." Her voice lowered, gentle, but sure. "One step at a time is enough. It's how we all find our way back, after loss. After war. After silence."

She paused, letting her gaze linger on him for a breath longer.

"And you're not taking those steps alone." Valery smiled, warmer now, the edge of it touched by something hopeful. Then she reached out — not for a handshake, not for formality, but to rest her hand lightly against his arm. A gesture of connection, simple and steady.

"Come on," she said, her tone shifting just slightly, almost playful but still rooted in that same quiet certainty. "There's more to see. More to hear."

And with that, she moved forward, her steps light against the stone, trusting him to walk with her — not behind, not apart.

Beside her.

Razh Sho ​

 

[Razh Sho]

For a moment, Razh Sho did not move. The hand on his arm was light — no weight, no demand — and yet it landed with the quiet gravity of a stone striking still water. The ripple moved through him: not shock, but awareness.

A connection offered.
Not taken.
Not forced.

Offered.

He turned his head slightly, the motion slow, deliberate, his lekku brushing faintly against the folds of his cloak. His silver-grey eyes met hers — not sharply, not guarded — but openly, for the first time in longer than he could remember.

You survived.

The words echoed through the chambers of his mind, brushing against memories sealed away in silence. Survival had been his currency for centuries, but here, now, in this light, it no longer sounded like condemnation. It sounded like permission — permission to live, not just endure. He inclined his head slightly — an acknowledgment deeper than speech. His body did not tense beneath her hand. Nor did it retreat. Instead, he allowed himself to stand there, allowed the presence of another to remain—without resistance, without calculation.

A step. Small, but real.

When she pulled away and moved forward, Razh Sho followed—not from duty, not from obligation—but choice. He fell into step beside her, matching her pace without needing to measure it, the long folds of his cloak whispering in harmony with the ancient stones beneath them. His saber hung quietly at his side; his burdens, for this moment, felt lighter. As they passed beneath another fractured beam of sunlight, he spoke—not loudly, not formally, but with the subtle grace of a man remembering the shape of his own voice in company.

"If peace is found step by step…" he glanced at her, the faintest curve of a smile ghosting his lips "…then I will not walk backward."

And together, they moved forward — not as relics of lost ages, but as those who chose, against all silence, to endure and to hope.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery felt the shift as clearly as the sun on her face — not a grand moment, not dramatic, but something quieter She didn't look back right away. She didn't need to. She could feel him there beside her now, not behind. And when he spoke, the corner of her mouth lifted in a quiet, contented smile. Her steps slowed slightly as she turned her head, eyes finding his once more. The light caught them both in soft gold and shadow, and in that glow, there was something timeless.

"Good," she said simply, but there was weight behind the word — not praise, not condescension. Just recognition and respect. It meant more, coming from her lips, softly spoken as it was. "Forward is the right direction. No matter how long the road." She let the silence stretch for a few steps — not awkward, but comfortable — and then glanced at him sidelong again, something warmer sparking in her expression.

"We don't have to rush into anything else today," she said, her tone lightening a bit. "If you'd like, I know a quiet spot down the hall where they still make a decent cup of tea." She paused. "Or… I can show you to your quarters, let you rest if you need it." Valery's gaze lingered just a moment, her voice lowering slightly — not serious, but sincere.

"Sometimes even warriors need peace before the next step."

And again, the offer was there — not an order, not a path forced.

Razh Sho ​