Finding a Long Forgotten Home

Progflaw99 · Dec 11, 2017

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Mid Rim \\ Maldrood Sector \\ Centares

Wildlands \\ Ancient Ruins \\ Base Camp

-- -- --

Mathias had always been an early riser. From the time he was a toddler up until his school age years the Jedi Knight had woken up at times to rival the very sun. Today was no different. Before the sun had even peeked up over the edge of the bluffs surrounding the ruins they found themselves encamped in, he'd already been on a short morning jaunt, communing with the abundance of wildlife around them. It was peaceful, the night sounds of the insects and nocturnal animals waning, turning into the vibrant songs of birds and the rustle of the underbrush as the squirrel's day of gathering begun. As his footsteps brought him closer towards the small ring of tents and accompanying equipment cases he paused, eyes catching on the faintest shimmer of dawn beneath the ankle high foliage beneath his feet. Mathias took a knee, an outstretched hand collecting the errant sparkle.

A stone, iridescent in the sun's first rays edging up into the sky. The Jedi Knight turned it over in his fingers, holding it up and examining it closer. An almost perfect oval, quartz most likely, but with a hint of polish and the proper set piece it could one day be a beautiful adornment. He chuckled to himself, pocketing the stone. At present the rock was a clouded white, clear splotches across its surface but with a little bit of attention it would become something far greater - not unlike the Jedi he now oversaw, not unlike how he viewed himself.

Picking himself back up, he stepped to. No doubt others would have awoken by now, if not due to the bright rays of the sun beginning to descend upon them, due to the smell of freshly prepared breakfast. Bread, cheese, and a healthy collection of fire cooked vegetables would awake those who yet sheltered themselves within the realm of sleep - meat had been foregone. It wasn't that they weren't allowed, though it was something that many Jedi found unsettling after feeling the life force of the animals and creatures around them. Here they would abide by Mathias' palate, it was slated to be a short trip anyway, an adventure into the ruins of what was once a Jedi temple many hundreds of years ago. Their intent? To reoccupy those ruins, to build themselves a humble order in a humble place away from the bustle of civilization and conveniently out of the hair of the Trade Council's politicians.

Pushing the realities of their Trade Council Order to the back of his mind, he focused on the present.

"Get up! Time to wake up, we won't get anywhere if you sleep through breakfast!"

Mathias stalked the tents, tapping against the fabric at several of the most reluctant to rise. They had work to do and Mathias was not one to coddle the young volunteers and Jedi hopefulls who'd signed up for the expedition.

[member="Mirax Eygan"] | [member="Jerek Morrows"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"] | [member="Lara Fairfax"] | [member="Kirie Ito"]

Sor-Jan Xantha · Dec 11, 2017

Centares.

Once, upon a time, the world had billed itself as the gateway to the Outer Rim. The last civilized planet on the frontier. Now, with hyperlanes and trade routes established as far as Laekia and Demonsgate, the definition of frontier world had expanded well past the Mid-Rim to the very edge of Wild Space. If not beyond.

Well more than nine hundred years ago, he had visited this world with his master on their voyage out to the Outer Rim territories.

Now it was nine hundred years later, and the boy wasn't quite certain what to make of this era's Jedi. He'd have liked to have seen someone offer Master Tyvokka a breakfast that consisted of absolutely no meat. That would have been certain to work out well.

Leaning up against the crumbled ruins of a stone hewn wall, the youngling knight had long since set aside the trappings of his former career. From what he could tell, very few Jedi today adhered to the traditions of the past. Robes seemed almost a fad. Robes were retro, he supposed. For his part, the tow-headed Anzat looked like a spacer brat. But for the lightsaber dangling off his belt, he'd be indistinguishable from a class of grade schoolers.

One of the faithful came to join him, standing by the wall and admiring the sun rise on the Mid-Rim world. The man had the kind of scraggly appearance that made Sor-Jan wonder if this might not be what a young [member="Jorus Merrill"] might have looked like. He was something of a hippy, the sort who joined the Jedi Consulars and pursued Force Visions through the use of herbal meditative aids. He seemed to have a permanent five o'clock shadow, except it came in patchy. Which sort of suited him.

"Hey, man. You got the stuff?"

Did he have the stuff? What was this? 49 BBY? Rolling his eyes, the small Anzat lifted up the colorful Gar-Jen vs Gargantua lunchbox that he carried. Popping it open, the boy revealed several foil wrapped packages inside. "Sausage biscuits," the youngling remarked, pointing to each in turn as he explained, "Nerf. Arguez. Corellian."

The man's hand started toward the lunchbox. The boy slammed the lid shut, covering the obvious sausage block by saying, "...and I might be able to get some wyrg-jerky on the down low." The predatory Anzat's gaze peered up dangerously. Hands off the merch' nerf-herder. Clearing his throat, the boy politely returned the question in kind. "Now... do you got the stuff?"

Sor-Jan Xantha was many things. Time traveler. Inventor. Smuggler. Engineer. Pilot. Gambler. Holo-Gamer. But one thing he wasn't was operating a charity here.

Patchy feigned a look of being offended. Which, protip, if you're going to practice your acting skills... don't do it on a race that's inherently telepathic.

"You know, the Jedi preach that we should be selfless. That we should abandon the pursuit of material wealth."

The small Anzat just blinked. Clearly, Patchy traveled in vastly different circles than the boy did. Or maybe this was why Jedi Sentinels made fun of Consulars. Not that Sor-Jan would ever condone such actions.

Or have participated in them.

Or have instigated them.

Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, toward where the communal meal tent was situated, the boy uttered, "Pfft. Tell that to the guy roasting vegetables over there."

Patchy had clearly thought that philosophy was going to win the day. And so failed to take into account that, when dealing with Corellians, the only philosophy that mattered was credits.

Patchy's hand ducked into the sleeve of his very hipster robes, producing a small credit cube as the man said, "Nerf, please."

Yep. He worried about these Jedi today. Appraising the small credit cube for a moment, the boy tucked the tiny device away. Then, snaking a hand inside of the lunch box, served up a still warm nerf sausage biscuit and sent Patchy on his way.

Pulling out the Arguez sausage biscuit for himself, the youngling got a pork high off his own supply as he wandered back toward his own tent in the make-shift shanty town that had spawned on Centares.

Were they Jedi? Or homeless people? Because this shanty-town look they had going? This look right here? This was exactly why people went over to the Sith. Did you see Darth Bombad living in a tent?

The youngling's tent was a hard light construct. One of [member="Matsu Ike"]'s Sasori designs. Inside, the interior was comfortably appointed to support all his devices. He'd even hosted a HoloStation gaming tournament last night. Depositing the lunch box down, the boy wandered back out of the tent with both hands wrapped around the now half-eaten breakfast sandwich.

Short legs took him toward the breakfast tent. Roast vegetables were not his thing. Ever. But if there was some orange juice or Bantha milk, he could totally go for that.

Kirie · Dec 12, 2017

Kirie woke with a start, reaching instinctively for the brown cloth daypack laying beside her bedroll, before catching herself, and sitting up slowly. This wasn't like the seedy starport accommodation she'd been using for the past month. She was in an isolated forest on the quiet world of Centares, surrounded by Jedi. She could afford to drop her guard. With a soft sigh, the deaf Balmorran girl rose to her feet, stooping to avoid the roof of the tent, and following the smoky smells of food cooking on an open fire.

It reminded her of her camping trips back home, when she would travel to the hills to spend a weekend under the stars. The forest there had been open, tall trunks and straight trees, with little clearings everywhere. Here on Centares the forest was thick, almost a jungle. The trees were old-growth and gargantuan, some of them must have been around since the days of the Old Republic. The forest floor was covered in thick undergrowth, and various briars that had to be navigated through as they journeyed towards wherever it was they were going. The scene was familiar yet foreign, and altogether peaceful.

She stepped out of the tent and into the dappled light. Behind her, her mini protocol droid followed her, its pointed legs sinking slightly in the soft soil. She scanned her eyes left and right, around her people were starting to emerge out of the array of tents that ringed the firepit. Most were younger than her, others older. Each of them here to learn the secrets of the force.

"You, my dear, barely know what the force is, let alone that you can harness it." Said The Voice dryly, she ignored it. The Voice was exactly the reason she was here. The thing had been with her for months, whatever it was, taking up residence in her mind, sharing her thoughts and feelings. It was with its arrival that her visions had started, strange ventures into otherworldly landscapes, where dark figures surrounded her, their forms dripping with menace. The episodes never seemed to last longer than a few seconds, and no harm ever came to her. Beside that, The Voice didn't appear overtly malicious, although it did like to make snide remarks on just about anything she did.

After leaving her position in the Commenor Systems Alliance, Kirie had consulted a Jedi near the spaceport, He'd told her that her visions were a sign of Force sensitivity, and to understand her abilities she had to study the ways of the Force. At first she'd been doubtful, but conducting her own research it became more and more clear that whatever had happened to her following the incident in the Incursion, and whatever The Voice was, it was inextricably linked to the Force.

That led here to here, Centares, where she joined a small group of Jedi on an expedition to rediscover a lost temple, one of many looking for guidance in understanding the Force. The whole thing was rather mystical and strange to her, but she was determined to find out exactly what was wrong with her.

"A little too determined I think." The Voice said sulkily, she shrugged.

Crossing over to the fire pit, she took a seat on one several logs that encircled the pit, looking at [member="Mathias Zaren"] and signing Good Morning. A moment later, her protocol droid piped up, speaking in a cool and clear female voice.

"Good Morning, Mr Zaren."

[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Mathias Zaren"]

Progflaw99 · Dec 20, 2017

The fire pit had begun to dwindle in his absence, the cooking flame started before his quiet morning jaunt. As he completed his rousing of the others he stepped in, settling a nice piece of fresh wood across the flames. It sent a crackle and pop of sparks into the air as a small pocket of gas burst. Breakfast would be a quick affair, though cooked vegetables were the majority of the ingredients Mathias had bitten his tongue and brought along eggs. Not strictly meat, he supposed it wouldn't mar his conscious that much to partake. Chickens were low on the order of intelligence, far from sentient in any case. That brought him an audible chuckle - the lower orders of animals never seemed to bother him too much, fish especially. Even he could learn new things. In many ways, he felt he had yet so much to learn but no time, thrust prematurely into the role of teacher. Alas, he couldn't let his own silent thoughts consume him.

A wide smile traced across his lips as he took a seat near opposite the younger woman who'd found a seat on one of the other logs. A series of hand movements conveyed her greeting, followed by the electronic chirp of the small droid beside her. It brought him joy, the diversity of those who'd joined him on this endeavor. It was no small task, even if a relatively safe one. Politely Mathias attempted to respond in kind, his fingers stumbling if a bit awkwardly as he did so. He was by no means proficient in sign language but it was an effort. As he did so, he spoke.

"Good Morning friend, it's an honor to have you with us."

He bowed his head gently, acknowledging the woman's presence and extending a hand towards the skillet above the fire followed by the offering of a small metallic container.

"Would you like something to eat? We have a big day ahead of us. Please, help yourself."

Mathias mused for a moment, eyes glancing across the small encampment. It was refreshing, being here with others who truly seemed to want to do good in the galaxy. This was such a small step, but a meaningful and important one. For him, for the Trade Council, and for the Trade Council Order itself. Even in the past weeks they'd come so far. A scattering of a few Jedi wanderers, a handful of Force Sensitives who had no direction, even those who had left their respective orders for reasons known only to them, shared and unshared. They were anything but uniform, and yet a collective idea, a shared vision brought them all here - together. It was enough to make Mathias' heart pick up a beat. He didn't know them all by name, he didn't know to what degree they were Force Sensitive but none of that seemed to matter. For once there was finally something here that he'd been missing in his life for so long.

Hope.

Mirax Eygan · Dec 20, 2017

The rain had stopped.

It was the first thought that came into her mind as Mirax opened her eyes and listened carefully for any noise coming from beyond the confines of her tent. As her gaze shifted from the walls to the ceiling, the young woman noted the bright highlights that danced between the shimmering swirl of the branches that danced in tandem with the morning breeze. A vibrant baritone was heard just then - a man's voice which the young woman found surprisingly familiar.

And then it all started coming back to her - the reason she was here, in the first place.
Here, in the Centares Wildlands, in theMaldrood Sector of the Mid Rim.
The place of Ancient Ruins which Mirax knew not of, but that spoke volumes to her, in her dream--

"Get up! Time to wake up, we won't get anywhere if you sleep through breakfast!"

Startled, the Lorrdian gave up on reminiscing for the time being and attempted to lift herself off the makeshift cot. Moaning softly, she bit down on a Corellian curse and wondered if the events that had preceeded her getting here, took a much bigger toll on her than Mirax originally thought.

Every movement was agony.

It is nothing, Mirax told herself harshly, turning her hips and torso deftly - as she rolled onto her side and used her arms to push herself upward into a sitting position - shifting her weight to ease the torturous pressure on her spine. But the relentless throbbing in her muscles continued, an incessant reminder that her body was not quite adapted to the hard resilience any youthful person should have known.

It was a bitter realization.

It was getting late, Mirax thought, and for once she was glad to have slept in the clothes she had worn upon her arrival. This expedition - whatever it was - had better be worth it. And hopefully it would not take too much of a toll on her; Mirax would prefer to have the chance to hone her stamina first, before humiliation would force her to turn back or give up altogether.

Grabbing her utility belt and holster, the Lorrdian fastened it round her waist without wasting time. Her boots followed swiftly, and then the hooded cloak she considered the ultimate utility in any obscure climate.

Almost there . . . let's hope I'm not too late.

Mirax had never been to Centares and with good reason. Her calling had yet to touch this former 'jewel of the Mid Rim', and until it did, Mirax would stick to places that required her immediate attention.

Suddenly, the canvas flap of her tent moved; but it was no sudden breeze that forced it to poke inward before returning to its former state. Ugh, she really was late. That was a man's hand, letting her know (ever so gently?) that it was high time to get going. Never one to disappoint, the Lorrdian moved with a stifled groan and carefully poked her head through the doorway of her tent before progressing further. She saw a man, moving off in the direction of a campfire - likely the same one whose voice she heard bellow earlier.

That's right. The hotshot pilot. I remember . . . him.

And everything started to flood back into her mind, as if it was that very night where Mirax had first encountered the sound of that voice. A voice of warning and protection. A voice the young woman had learned to trust, albeit prudently. It had not let her down before, and she had no reason to believe that it would led her onto a false path, now.

Soft footfalls followed laboriously behind Mathias as Mirax made her way to the grove where others could already be seen, waiting. So she was the last, the young woman scolded herself inwardly, a sudden torrent of warmth flooding her cheeks. Moments later, she would approach the encampment with childlike curiosity, brilliant swirl of azure and silver studying the others in the shifting sunlight. And the words that first fell from the Lorrdian's lips were as alien to Mirax as the world she had currently found herself upon - and yet they rang firm, and true.

"Greetings. May the Force guide you and keep you all."

The silence that followed was punctuated by the singular gesture of her gentle bow.

---------------------------------

[member="Kirie Ito"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Mathias Zaren"]

Sor-Jan Xantha · Dec 22, 2017

There was a noticeable lack of short people.

When Sor-Jan had been young... well, that is younger... the Jedi Temple on Coruscant had been filled with younglings. Many of the Jedi's traditions and rituals involved the next generation. The Gathering, when the younglings traveled to the uncharted world of Ilum to commune with the Force in a trial that had no other like it. As the Jedi uncovered their own history on worlds across the whole of the galaxy, younglings frequently accompanied the Jedi in order to see and participate in that history themselves. It had been one of the ways in which the Jedi had passed their traditions on to those who would one day replace them as the Jedi Knights of the Old Republic.

When he had been with the Galactic Republic of the modern era, on Ossus, or the Silver Sanctum Coalition on Voss, it had been much the same. The halls of the Jedi alight with the energy of young ones.

They said that the Force was about balance. As the adults tried to instill order, the younglings introduced chaos. As the adults fostered a serious, meditative environment, the young ones were loud and rambunctious. The youngling became the padawan, the padawan became the knight, the knight became the master. It was the cyclical motion of how their Order evolved with each generation. Different with each permutation, yet always familiar.

Even now, more than nine hundred years since a Thispiasian had announced to the Jedi Council his intent to take a young vampire by the name of Sor-Jan Xantha as his padawan learner, it was all still recognizable to him. The tow-headed Anzat could look around the shanty-town of tents and half-assed shelters and feel the familiarity of the Jedi.

And the word familiar was used advisedly... for the Jedi were the only family that the Corellian had left to him.

But, that also came with being who, or what, he was.

Even that being the case, he would have liked for there to have been some more younglings about. Certain this could be a good start for a new beginning, a new generation of Jedi Knights.

...but what of the generation after?

Short legs propelled the small boy through the meal tent. The sausage biscuit had vanished by this point, through a few smudges of melted cheese were visible at the corner of his mouth. The youngling navigated through a sea of adults -- a forest of giants -- as he stumbled across a table with juices and other beverages for consumption. The boy poured himself a glass of Bantha milk, ambling about the inside of the tent as he cradled the glass with both hands.

"Greetings. May the Force guide you and keep you all."

There was a kind of awkward silence there at the end, as the young woman who had spoken gave a bow. Holding a glass, with a blue milk mustache and cheese smudges on his face, Sor-Jan just looked back at the woman with his large, luminous blue eyes.

"Hi!" the child greeted the woman brightly. "I'm Sor-Jan," he supplied, with entirely too much energy and enthusiasm -- not to mention perhaps a tad more volume than was required -- as he addressed the stranger.

"Have you eaten yet?"

[member="Mirax Eygan"] | [member="Mathias Zaren"] | [member="Kirie Ito"]

Kirie · Dec 22, 2017

Kirie nodded politely at [member="Mathias Zaren"]'s offer, taking a seat on a mat by the fire as the last of their party emerged from their tent, a young woman . Her lips moved, and Kirie followed along, giving a small smile when the woman had finished. Kirie broke her gaze, her eyes falling to the floor. Behind her, she heard the crunch of grass, the snapping of a twig, a figure settling down behind her. She ignored it, by now she knew such things weren't real. "Would it kill him to cook up some meat? I know I don't eat, but I'm just saying you could do better." Said the Voice, its grating tone sounding from just behind her, and over her left shoulder. The comment was enough to illicit a response from her, she rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air in a helpless motion.

Wait, she hadn't actually meant to do that. She buried her face in her hands, cheeks red, ears burning. Had she really just thrown her hands up in the air in front of everyone, with zero external cue? She sighed, looking down and picking at her sleeve, avoiding the eyes of the people in the camp. A random hand movement was a minor thing, but she would have to be careful not respond to the Voice when in the presence of others. It didn't really make for a good first impression.

Reaching out, she took the skillet from the fire, spooning a pile of roasted vegetables and a single egg into her rough wooden bowl. It was good food for something that had been cooked out in the wild, better than most of the stuff you could get at a spaceport. She turned back to the Jedi, Zaren. Thank you, its delicious. She signed. Here, let me make something. She stood up, and walked to her tent, returning a moment later with a jug of water and a pot, which she filled and put on the boil. Next she removed a parcel of brown cloth, and tied with string. She unwrapped it, grabbing a pinch of dried leaves and adding them to the pot. Sapir tea, from Commenor. It's a favourite of Lady Kay's.

She found herself thinking about the Queen a lot these days, especially in her darker moments. In many ways, Kay had been the best thing about Commenor, she'd taken her under her wing, given her a job and a purpose. Her life there had been good, like a dream."You know that you had to leave," said the Voice. It was right, she did, and she knew she couldn't go back, not until she had answers. That didn't make it easy, though, and most nights she lay awake, wondering if she really had made the right choice, of if she was just a puppet, being pulled along by some unknown string.

"Your tea is ready."

Kirie broke from her reverie, grabbing three tea cups and filling them with the beautiful, scented drink. Here. Have some, its good. She handed a cup to each of her companions, before taking a long sip herself. It was good, perfect even. Lady Kay was on to something with her addiction for the drink. Kirie blinked, wiping a tear from her eye and looking around, hoping that nobody had noticed.

[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Mirax Eygan"] | [member="Mathias Zaren"]

Zef Halo · Dec 23, 2017

Ember did not sleep much, as an enslaved boy he had adapted to short sleeping hours. To survive, these sleeping hours had to turn extremely efficient. Perhaps it was his will to survive or the Force or a mix of both that had helped him adapt and granted him the ability to regenerate energy quicker than average.

The Jedi Knight had ventured before first light in the wilderness around them scouting for anything of interest but his search yielded no result. His return to the camp was punctual as most, if not all, adventurers were up having breakfast and conversing. Ember had barely peeled a word with the rest of the party, only learning their names and a few short lived small talk conversations but nothing more.

He remained in one place watching for a bit too long before he settled on trying to forge some chemistry with the party. For whatever reason, Ember approached Kirie and pointing at the pot of tea in her hands. The smell of herbs gave it away.

"Do you, by any chance, have enough for one more cup?" Ember inquired politely before adding with a smile and pulling a small transparent container infront of him. "I'd trade you some dried meat rations for it."

[member="Kirie Ito"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Mathias Zaren"] | [member="Mirax Eygan"] | [member="Kira Vaal"] [?]

Progflaw99 · Dec 29, 2017

Mathias had been stirring the food about on the large cast iron skillet hanging over the flame when another appeared. He remembered her face, but as per usual his memory failed him with a name. In any case the woman's entrance brought a smile to his face, the formality of it both seeming appropriate and inappropriate for their setting. Some place between reverence and informality, it was a welcome greeting nonetheless.

"Please, feel free to take a seat. It'll have to be quick though, we have a lot to get to today."

Even as he spoke the Jedi began scooping food into a wooden bowl, procured from a small stack next to where he was seated. Likewise, a wooden spoon was set into the bowl as he carefully passed them to everyone around the small fire. As he reached out to hand a bowl towards one of the others, he noticed a rapid movement from the corner of his eye but by the time he looked to its source, all he saw was the woman who had signed to him earlier. It was intriguing really, the thought that one could function in a world so reliant on sound without being able to hear - he found it interesting. Mathias was about to ask something when another walked up, speaking to the woman. With a smile he took his seat once more, nibbling at his food.

He gave everyone ample time to finish their food before he himself rose. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he whistled, the shrill sound eliciting a cacophony of beeping and whirring from a nearby tent. Accompanied by a clatter and a rustle of rip-stop fabric, a droid came screaming out of the tent. It looked almost entirely out of place out here, more fitting for a diner or restaurant. As the droid swirled around the group gathering their dishes, it gave rather pointed greetings. He wasn't sure if it was a measure of her programming or personality, but the droid did not seem happy to be out here. The droid's name escaped him for a moment more before it became clear in his mind.

"Darla - so nice to see you up and about this morning!"

He had a hard time keeping a straight face. Something about the way she whirred and spun around the camp collecting the used dishes was comical, quiet curses emanating from her vocabulator. She was most definitely not happy to be out here. Mathias wouldn't have had a problem doing his own dishes, but the council had insisted they bring 'Darla' along. Mathias had begun to wonder if it was for their sake that he'd been tasked as such. Even so, the droid did have an efficiency that he and the others would not have, and as Darla finished collecting the dishes she whirred off back into the tent from which she'd emerged earlier, beeps and boops echoing as she went to work. For any of those fluent in droid speak, one might have blushed at the insults she was slinging. Between the bits of it however she would politely remark "May I have your bowl?" "Please allow me".

With a deep breath he brushed his hands off on his trousers and appraised the small group.

"Are you all ready to get going? Take a moment, gather your things and meet me at the base of the steps. We'll do this together!"

His excitement was difficult to hide, the prospect of not only rediscovering and exploring a Jedi Temple but preparing it for habitation after such a long period of vacancy brought his heart rate up. It was an endeavor that would be remembered as their small order expanded and grew, and for once they would truly have a home again. Granted, they had to root out any creatures whom they might find inside, but initial reports hadn't shown any predatory presence. Perhaps there were yet relics of the past within the temple's corridors and chambers? Who knew!

Republic Engineering · Dec 29, 2017

He woke with a start.

Roused by the sound of the night’s downpour pattering against the glasteel surface of his fighter’s canopy, the Jedi Master stared into the darkness of the night with bleary eyes. Writhing within the cramped confines of his starfighter’s cockpit, the man sought to recall when he had drifted off and found himself bereft of an answer. It must’ve been when the Centaran Sun had set, he mused, but as he drifted ever closer towards something that would vaguely fulfill his inquisitive nature - Arcanus pushed the thought aside. There was little point in pursuing something that would’ve cost him an entire night’s rest, for answers that wouldn’t have been worth the effort in the end. Why did it matter? He asked himself, before shifting once again beneath the rough-spun blanket. The rain had woken him up, and every moment that he spent fighting against the tantalizing serenity that the night’s slumber had offered, would, in turn, waste the untapped potential that awaited him once the Sun had risen.

A long day was laid out before them once the binary star had rose passed the horizon, and Arcanus could ill-afford to drag down this expedition with lingering traces of fatigue gripping his muscular form. He had heard snippets of their distant destination from their excursion’s leader, something of an ancient abbey of sorts that had fallen prey to the ravages of time. That meant the dangers of both a crumbling structure, infested by the tangling roots of the forest, were waiting for them, along with the dangerous wildlife that had nested within. He needed to be well-rested and sharp for the trials ahead. Thankfully they had elected to press on in the morning after they had broken their fast, which would give the former Knight of the Republic the chance to revel in the simple pleasures of the rain dancing across his canopy, before finally being claimed by his sightless dreams.

Hours later, when the Sun had peeked past the distant horizon, was when the Jedi awoke once more to the sounds beyond the transparent canopy. It was the pleasant chorus of nearby birds chirping in the distance that had done the deed this time, rather than the wet curtain of rain that rolled across his starfighter. As he wiped the gunk from his encrusted eyes, Arcanus noted that all evidence of the previous night’s downpour had vanished, seemingly evaporated with the rising of the system’s primary star. That was a good sign, he said without giving voice to his guarded thoughts. The creatures that no doubt inhabited the ruined abbey would drive themselves further into its embrace and would be less likely to attack the expedition once they had made their foothold. As well, depending on how hard it had rained atop the distant abbey, the forces of erosion would’ve knocked loose any weakened portion of the structure’s foundation. Which would mean that whenever they had entered the sundered complex, they would likely not fall prey to loose stonework.

With his thoughts collected, Arcanus reached out from underneath his blanket and pulled the canopy’s release. A tidal rush of mint-spiced atmosphere bathed the Jedi, sending shivers down the man’s spine. He didn’t expect it to be this cold and thus fell asleep wearing naught but his flight suit's undergarments. It was a decision, that as soon as the cockpit had been fully exposed to the elements beyond, that he instantly regretted making.

“Next time,” He said aloud to no-one in particular. “I’m sleeping in my jumpsuit…”

~ * ~ * ~

When the droid had come to collect his bowl after he had finished, Arcanus had relinquished it without hesitation. While the offerings for breaking his nightly fast were plentiful, the Jedi had wished for something a bit more hearty. Though such a desire was never to be fulfilled in the company of their expeditions leader, it was almost a tempting to break into his own supplies and feast upon the vacuum-sealed meats. However, he supposed, there would be another day for that. Until then, the former Knight of the Republic was grateful that he no longer had to chew on rationed hardtack or starched protein cubes.

As the droid had politely collected the last of their bowls and wheeled away from the gathered circle of Jedi, the Epicanthix brushed his hands against the black vest of his flight suit, sending a scattering of crumbs to cascade down towards his mud-caked boots. He stared for a moment, utterly fascinated by the pattern in which they had fallen. It reminded him of something, but for the life of him, the man couldn’t place what it was. His eyes instead were drawn towards the Errant Knight known to him only by the name of Zaren, as the man spoke of gathering their belongings and readying themselves for the day ahead.

Thankfully, Arcanus had already come prepared. His green flight suit, though weathered and stitched together by various threads, held all the tools that he would need. The belt lashed around his waist carried many gadgets, but the most important of all swung wistfully on it’s secluded hook. While many within the Jedi Order, before it was broken and scattered to the fractious winds, would’ve considered this tool to be their symbol - or even their livelihood - however, the former Knight knew that it was nothing more than a weapon.

One that had been brandished time and time again for just, and unjust causes alike.

It was speaking more to his experience with the way this galaxy had evolved after the plague, in that regard, rather than his true beliefs. He was… doubtful that his former teachings, and lessons bequeathed unto him by his master, truly meant anything in the end. There were those amongst the stars that had been given the same lessons, and sworn the same oaths, yet slaughtered thousands in the name of peace and prosperity. Arcanus stopped himself before his guarded thoughts drifted further into melancholy, by clenching his fingers around the flanged, cylindrical hilt of his weapon.

That was why he had come to Centares, and why he had enlisted his services with this expedition. Perhaps, within these ancient ruins, the Jedi would find something he had been searching for. Something that would be worth fighting for, in the days ahead. Hope, lay just beyond the horizon - and all Arcanus had to do was remain strong, so that one day, when he was ready, the man could one day restore the honour that his estranged kindred had squandered in the name of the light.

“We’ll do this together,” the Jedi said, echoing the Errant Knight’s words.

Amilthi Camlenn · Dec 29, 2017

The group of Jedi Amilthi had met on Deneba were now scattered to the for winds, and she had found herself alone again, travelling the south and east of the galaxy, avoid the war and, uncharacteristically, the question whether that was the right thing to do. On a grand scale, the world was complicated, and in all its transience on some level unchanging. Any side in a war looked like the wrong side, and so many well-meaning attempts at improving things had a tendency to just make a bad situation even worse. And so she had let go of that ambition.

She had immersed herself again in the pursuit of knowledge, to learn and to preserve, without ulterior purpose. If one found oneself thrust in a broken reality like this, what was there to do but to take it as it was and explore? What she was after was not the knowledge that could be found in books, that could be written down and read, but the knowledge that needed to be experienced, which had to be reached on a practical path for which the written word was at best a crutch. Insight, perhaps, was the better term. It was the kind that was better transmitted from teacher to student than from book to reader. Some teachers were willing and approachable enough. The Chalactan Adepts had needed no persuading to permit her to stay at their temple for several months and had been happy enough to introduce her to their teachings. They had let her part with the same kindness with which they had received her, and told her to come back whenever she felt ready to continue on the path. Others, such as the B'omarr monks, shut themselves off from all outsiders, and she had still not figured out how to convince them otherwise.

But the goal of her present journey was not another congregation of any sort, at least not that she knew of. The Silver Jedi Order had been so occupied with their political and military goals that they had had left potential treasures in their former territory unexplored, which she had some of them hear express regret over. Now, free of any obligations to anyone, it had occurred to Amilthi to investigate what was still left of the ruins on Centares. It had not been difficult to find passage to the planet, located, as it was, right on the Perlemian Trade Route. Once there, she had been able to rent a landspeeder that would take her to the location she had found in the Silver Jedi Order's archives. Her inner clock was thoroughly misaligned with the conditions on the planet, and so set out long before sunrise.

The night was cool, but Amilthi did not freeze wrapped in the heavy cloth that she relied on for protection against heat and cold alike. For the better part of the hour-long journey, the sky was clear and she could see the stars above. It was very dark, more so than most nights, as the planet had no moon, and Amilthi frequently couldn't see anything at all beyond the range of the headlights of her speeders, slowing her down considerably. In the first light of dawn, she entered a more mountainous landscape in which she frequently had to consult the map on her datapad that showed her the likely location of the ruins. It was probably not accurate beyond the level of plus-minus one valley in any direction.

The sun had already risen, though the bottom of the valley still lay in shade, when Amilthi spotted a towering structure in the distance, melded into the cliff that rose above a beck. As she drew closer, she noticed, to her not inconsiderable surprise, that there were tents in front of the building and a couple of spacecraft as well. It appeared that someone else had had the exact same idea as herself at the very same time. If those people were awake, they had quite possibly already spotted her, but nonetheless Amilthi stopped her speeder close to the cliff and proceeded on foot along the rock face.

Amilthi felt a sense of novelty and discovery about the situation, but that could just as well be a reflection of the state of the landscape, the cool air of the morning, the moisture rising from the ground wet from the night's rain, and the light that was gilding the peaks of the mountains and slowly descending from them, promising warmth. A curiosity and joy took hold of her that made her speed up her steps. A motley band of people were scattered across the camp, picking up their things to get ready for the day's work, whatever that might be. Whether they were here out of archeological interest or because the hoped to plunder the place, Amilthi could not speculate, but she spotted no heavy armaments and felt no danger. Not all of them were male, either, so the worst they might do was tell a lone woman to get lost.

Amilthi let her roomy grey robe fall open, revealing the lavender skirt and beige tunic she wore under it. The clothes were of coarse fabric and the kind that was worn by the rural poor in many places in the galaxy. Drawing back her hood, she stepped out into the open.

"Good morning, fellow travelers", she called out to them.

Sor-Jan Xantha · Dec 30, 2017

"We'll do this together!"

Really?

Really?

And another man even echoed the sentiment. Hanging his head, the small Anzat was amazed at how adults could be so un-cool. Like, he totally knew that adults were un-cool as a matter of general principle, but then stuff like this came around and just served to remind him that adults were forever re-defining the outer limits of the word 'un-cool.' Like, just when Sor-Jan thought that he'd discovered the bottom of the barrel... adults revealed a whole new depth of un-cool!

It was a bottom abyss. Like a Sarlacc's stomach.

The boy didn't have a problem with the attitude of the droid that was going around collecting the dishes. For one thing, he appreciated the droid doing so. At Jedi gatherings, it was just kind of assumed that the younglings were going to get stuck doing the dishes. It teaches character, they said. It teaches the principles of Service and Humility. Yeah, sure. Sor-Jan had only been stuck doing the dishes at Jedi gatherings for the last fifty-something years.

For another thing, the boy not only knew droidspeak, but a couple of other languages as well.

The tow-headed youngling had a couple of quips and jabs to toss back at Darla himself, though for the sake of the adults in the room, the youngling did so in an artificially constructed language that was mostly used only by traders out on the Outer Rim.

If anyone knew Bocce, however, they'd no doubt be unsettled by some of the inappropriate comments flying back at the droid.

Gather up your things, huh?

The small Anzat gave a low whistle. A moment later, a blue-accented BB-unit came rolling over the grass. The boy's tent had been a hard-light construct. The epitome of convenience, especially since everything could be broken down and carried inside the droid. And the droid could even break it all down itself!

"Race you to the steps, Bee-Four," the child chimed, as his short legs took off from inside the tent, passing by some chick coming in talking about travelers.

Kira Vaal · Dec 30, 2017

It truly was a dark time.
Having fled Thyferra at the mercies of the Sith attack Kira Vaal, aboard the Millennium Falcon had disappeared into the far distant side of the galaxy, her mind following instinct and the need to survive away from the Alliance which was darkening into a shadow and the Jedi who had abandoned their purpose. Yet where the Force had sent Kira on a path to Sullust that distant time ago it now had her on a new path.

Charlwook was gone, the loyal Wookie left by Kira within the Galactic Alliance to help where needed, even if the goodbye had been hard. His trinket of remembrance a small wooden charm that Kira had attached around her neck by a simple black string. It still smelt of the beast, allowing the lone and lost girl to carry on with her empty freighter into the vastnesses of what was once Silver space.

She had paused at Ossus, her mind not foreseeing the devastation that still lay in orbit above the planet. A vast graveyard of metal now the last remaining monument to the Jedi who hd tried to play gods. She had heard the rumours of the First Orders attack, yet she had not been prepared for the realisation. The planet was left behind her soon after, her feet not feeling easy about landing on the surface and instead staying within the safety of the Falcon itself.

It was within this safety that Kira had finally tried to embrace the one thing she had been fighting. She had been called Jedi many times, followed many different orders and carried the traditional weapon. However all this meant naught, for she in her mind was not anything a Jedi should be, a path she intended to honour.
Her time not spent in the cockpit was taken up by either meditation or physical workouts, both of which forced her to expend vast amounts of energy on the littlest of sleep. She would dream of far distant ruins and blurry faces when she did finally rest, causing night sweats and shivers in the waking hours.
However as much as she tried to find her balance their was a painful realisation. The Force while confident in guiding her had abandoned any idea of her being capable of using it.
Each day she would lay out tools and parts in an attempt to reach out to them, to touch them with her powers and each day she would throw one across the room with her arm and huddle into a corner in exhaustion.

She was truly alone. More alone then she had ever been.

However her roaming could not last forever and eventually she found herself staring at a giant orb of green and blue.
Centares.
The Falcon had slipped into orbit and following what could only be explained as a hunch Kira took the ship out across the wilderness until she saw what, somehow she always knew she would.
The ruins of her dreams.
“You’ve got to stop doing this too me.” She said to the Force. Cursing it like an ever present teacher who always had the last word. Yet as she lowered the ship into a cloud of kicked up dust she knew that she was meant to be here, she just had to find out why.
That question was one that could only be answered by her heading down the ramp and saying.

“Hello?”

Progflaw99 · Jan 2, 2018

The Jedi heard another voice echo his, a twinkle evident in his eyes. *All hope is not lost.* Despite a turbulent history, it seemed the Jedi had finally begun to come together. Many from all walks of life, a wide range of orders and philosophies. Here, all that could be laid aside, a collective vision established. The Jedi were not a tool of war, but one of peace - this new order would be founded on such a belief and it brought hope to the young man. Where others failed, they would succeed.

It hadn't taken Mathias long to reach the steps, but he was not the first. A gentle grin creased his features as he set eyes on the young boy and BB droid, a risen hand in greeting. He knew little of the boy but that was hardly a surprise, Mathias hadn't met most of the people who'd volunteered for the small expedition. It seemed people just kept showing up - he couldn't complain. "So who won?" A raised eyebrow accompanied his knowing smirk. He could see the subtle rise and fall of the boy's chest as he breathed, more pronounced now after the short run to the base of the ruin's stairway. Before the boy could answer, Mathias' eyes were drawn skyward at the quiet sound of distant engines, a vessel slowly coming into view. *Another late addition?* he wondered. He didn't have long to wait to find out. In a sweeping maneuver the vessel had come to rest a stone's throw away, the tents of the small encampment nearby billowing as its engines began to wind down. Moments later the familiar sound of a boarding ramp's hydraulics and a quick puff of air as the interior decompressed were foremost on the Jedi's mind. Who descended was.. unexpected.

It wasn't recognition, Mathias had never met the woman before but without a doubt he could tell. Something was different about her. Oh she was plain enough, no obviously ominous accouterments or malevolent intent but there was something else there, the Force manifested itself around the woman. She might not realize it yet, but the Force had left a mark on her and Mathias could see it. "Welcome!" he said, his hand once again raised in greeting as he stepped forward between the newcomer and those beginning to gather at the steps. "I am Mathias Zaren, Knight of the Trade Council Order. Have you come to help?" His hands motioned towards the almost looming ruins. "Feel free to walk with me, not to cut our meeting short, but we have quite the task ahead of us."

Taking a step forward, he found his way up the ancient stone stairs. Steep though they were, he found his movement easy, almost as if the wonder within him lifted every step. Even as he put one foot in front of the other he felt the Force begin to swirl around the group, beckoning them further. This place was old. Ancient. The smell of old books came to mind as Mathias approached the top of the stairs. Wildlife had overgrown much of the original stonework but behind the shroud of vegetation he could see intricately carved designs, letters, flowing script. It would take time to restore this place, time and effort but the rewards? Even now he could feel a glimmer of hope. Hope for the future, hope for the present. The Force was still here in this place, still flowing within the ancient structure. How deep would they have to go to find its source? Pausing momentarily at the entry, he gazed up at the archway. How many Jedi had walked beneath these doors? How many more would do so under this new order? It was an intimidating task for the young Knight. Tensing his jaw, he activated the torch in his hand and stepped across the threshold.

Kirie · Jan 3, 2018

When the group had finished their breakfast and prepared to leave, Kirie allowed herself to fade into the background. It was an excercise she was intimately familiar with, she allowed the conversation to flow past her and merely stood aside and watched. She often took the role of the silent observer, people had a strange tendancy to forget that she was even there. So, as the group gathered their things and completed the last leg of the journey Kirie followed behind, trailing along from the back of the group. As they traversed the narrow and overgrown path, she took in the sights and smells, delighting in the delicate scent of wildflowers, or the dappled sunlight that cascaded in golden rays past the thick foliage. For a few minutes, her heart found peace, the sinister tones of the Voice didn't assault her ears. She merely walked behind the party.

Soon enough, her reverie was broken when the troop emerged from the forest into a wide clearing. It was clear the area hadn't been visited in a long time. From the edges of the rough-hewn stone courtyard, the jungle extended its creeping limbs. In patches, small plants had worked their way through cracks in the rock. Eventually, over generations growing into monstrous trees that dotted the ruined courtyard. Running along the length of the courtyard, a small stream split into many minor tributaries, which ran into a series of scattered pools. Around these grew small patches of water plants, and clouds of insects buzzed around. Around the structure, the mountains rose above, forming a round basin that ended in a sheer cliff wall, and the first buildings of the ancient abbey. The buildings were massive. Structures carved out of the same dense rock as the cliffs that surrounded them, as if they were shaped by the Gods themselves. Nearest to them, a stone staircase lead to a massive atrium, supported by towering pillars covered in creeping vines.

They climbed the stairs, the rest of the group just as enraptured by the gargantuan buildings as she was. At the top of the stairs was a carved metal door. Inscribed with words she didn't understand, and pictures of ancient warriors, wielding lightsabers against an unknown foe. What had become of these holy warriors, how could such a noble order merely fade into the dust? And what would these Jedi of old think about the Galaxy now? As she pondered, their party's leader, [member="Mathias Zaren"] stepped forward and pushed the door open. The interior was as black as pitch, and Kirie saw the hesitation on the Jedi's face as the temple's great maw was opened. He appeared to steel himself and stepped inside, lighting a torch. As Kirie crossed the threshold to follow, her Tartarine Crystal pendant lit up, casting the area around her in a bright blue glow. She gazed at it in wonder, it had never done that before, perhaps it had something to do with the Force in the temple. She looked around in wonder, viewing the atrium in a new light. This place was alive.

With the bright blue glow of her crystal, the structure of the room was revealed. It was largely empty, caked with a layer of dust and grime from centuries of abandonment. Above them, a domed ceiling was decorated with fantastical murals depicting some sort of timeline, but the events of which she could not make head nor tail. Ahead of them, a wide corridor lead deeper into the temple, and to her left side, a narrow side passage. Upon seeing the smaller corridor, Kirie felt a small tug in her gut, almost as if something was physically pulling her, instructing her to go that way.

Progflaw99 · Jan 9, 2018

His eyes were alight with wonder as he stepped into the large space beyond the door. Large columns rose towards the high ceiling, the mural painted on the large dome above old but still possessing a vibrant color and hue. This place... it was ancient. Even as his footsteps slowed and finally came to a stop Mathias couldn't help but stand in awe of the design. In its day, this temple must have been a bastion, something meaningful and filled with life. A cold shiver went down his spine, the edges of his consciousness tingling with anticipation. With the influx of travelers it was almost as if he could feel the Temple itself waking from a long slumber. A sluggish wave energy cautiously awakening and warming to those now intruding upon its halls. Almost instinctively Mathias opened his mind, allowing the suddenly overwhelming presence of the Force brush his mind. That was all it took, a brief moment of shearing pain as he struggled to comprehend followed by crystal clarity. For a fraction of a second he'd seen the Temple as it had been, unknown faces filling its halls, light and life brimming from each one. Younglings, led by an elder man, kept together with a knotted hand rope. Mathias brushed away a tear that had lazily formed and begun to run down his cheek. He'd felt it then. The spark of hope, the spark of life, a brief glimpse into the very Force - or perhaps even a left over imprint of the past. It didn't truly matter, but what Mathias knew is that this would be their new home.

A sharp intake of breath brought him back from the edge of the abyss, his eyes slowly tracing over the intricacies of the interior. Looking down to his feet he gently brushed away a thick layer of dust from the marbled floor. This was far more grandiose even in its current condition than he'd ever hoped. It would take time, but they could make this work. Of course, they'd have to make sure it was safe first, exploring each corridor and chamber to ensure not only the safety of all those who hoped to reside here, but also to seek out any artifacts that may yet remain. If the layer of dust was anything to go by, it didn't look as if anyone had stepped here in many years. It would definitely take some cleaning up, but the prospect of having a true home brought a wide smile to Mathias' face.

"Friends..." He started. "Welcome home." Mathias paused, allowing everyone to step into the temple before continuing. "A few ground rules before I let you explore. Always travel in at minimum, a pair. Stay in contact. And if you discover anything, please reach out to me - use your comm of for those of you who prefer.." He tapped his head with a finger. "Other than that, stay safe and look first, don't touch. We don't know if there's anything living in here or left behind."

Kirie · Feb 5, 2018

Though she was facing [member="Mathias Zaren"] as he gave his instructions, and as such she knew what he said, she ignored his words of warning. This time it was not the pervasive whisper of the voice that dissuaded her from following instructions, but a new sensation, a strange tugging she felt in her gut. It was as if coming from the temple itself, drawing her irresistibly away from the main party and towards the otherwise forgettable side corridor.

Even as the main group took the first few steps out of the main atrium, Kirie drifted to the back of the group, and slipped away. Doubling back, she crossed the vast, dark antechamber. The only light penetrating the darkness was the eerie glow of her Tartarine pendant, which seemed to pulsate with life as she followed the path of the strange attraction. Every step she took the tugging grew stronger, and the closer she got, the more confident she was that she was on the right path.

The Voice was oddly silent as she traversed the cavernous halls, motes of dust stirring slightly in the faint eddies that followed behind her. Perhaps it was something within the temple that was suppressing it, normally she could feel its presence even if it wasn’t saying anything. Now, she felt the most normal she’d had in months. It was as if a pressure had been lifted off her shoulders. Turning the corner to face a tall metal door, she felt as if she’d surfaced from a deep dive.

The door was caked in dust from the centuries of abandonment, but it was remarkably well preserved. It depicted a bearded man in robes, sitting cross-legged at the centre of a garden. His face was serene, eyes closed, hands clasped together in his lap. As she took a step closer to inspect the engraving, the portal visibly pulsed, the metal radiating a slight golden glow, like rays of sunlight. Kirie didn’t react with fear, instead leaning closer, examining the metal. The carvings were ornate and intricate. It was some of the most beautiful artwork she’d ever seen. It was mesmerising, entrancing. Without realising it, her arm rose slowly, stopping at chest level. Her fingertips were mere millimetres away from the surface of the door, and she could feel the energy pulsating from within. Overcome with curiosity, she pressed her palm flat against the surface of the door.

The effect was immediate, the moment she connected with the metal she felt a presence in her mind. It wasn’t the familiar darkness of the Voice, but something foreign, and ancient. It poked and prodded for a moment, then left without a fuss, leaving a quickly fading feeling of purpose, warmth, and belonging. Slowly, a crack opened in the middle of the door, and the two halves swung inwards, revealing the chamber inside.

She stepped through the threshold into the darkness without the slightest hesitation. All her life she’d been unsure of her path, but now, finally she was filled with the utmost confidence that she was fulfilling her destiny, whatever that may be. Stepping into the room, her eyes were drawn to the crystal pendant she’d taken off her neck and now carried in her delicate hands. The gem began to glow brighter and brighter, casting blue light into the corners of the room. Kirie caught sight of a pedestal in the centre of the chamber, but it was lost in the blue glare that continued to brighten as the seconds passed. In moments, it seemed as bright as a sun, her clenched fist doing nothing to hide the light. She screwed her eyes shut, but it grew brighter and brighter so bright it hurt. Brighter and brighter and brighter and then… Nothing.

She kept her eyes closed. As the the spots began to fade from the inside of her eyelids she became aware that her surroundings had changed. She was now lying on her back. There was grass beneath her, and she could feel the warm rays of the sun on her face. Perhaps most amazingly of all, there was sound. She could hear the rustling of leaves in the wind, and the whisper of the grass as she shifted her weight. Her eyes flickered open and she sat up. In the moments it took for her sight to adjust, she recognised the setting. It was the peaceful garden from the engraving on the door. Coming to the realisation, she spun on her heel.

Sure enough, there was the old man, sitting cross legged on a stone bench, his worn brown rows flowing around him, his long white beard thrown carelessly over his shoulder. He raised a wrinkled hand and beckoned her forward. She complied, reflexively offering the man a bow, as she would the Commenori royalty. He gave a gentle smile in response and began to speak, his voice smooth like woven silk.

“All Jedi fight for balance in the Force. We are the protectors of the Light that keep the Darkness at bay. You of course have heard of the holy warriors, and no doubt have seen many of them yourself.”

He paused for a moment, looking her in the eyes. Kirie wondered what he could be thinking.

“There is another kind of Jedi, one that does not need a sword, one that does not strike down the enemies of the Light. They protect it through learning, through teaching, through diplomacy. The best of the Order are those who forego violence in favour of an even temperament, those who protect the sanctity of the Light by teaching the ways of forgiveness and compassion, and by spreading peace throughout the Galaxy.”

His hand went to his side, and he produced a small leather bundle.

“You have been very brave to come this far, now it is time for you to fulfil your destiny, as a Jedi Consular. Take this, and tell your master what I have told you. He will be able to teach you the rest you have to learn.”

As Kirie held out her hand to receive the gift, the vision began to fade away, giving way to a sudden jerk into reality. She was back on her feet, now standing a half a metre from the pedestal in the centre of the chamber. The Tartarine Crystal’s glow had faded to slight glimmer, but it was enough to illuminate what sat atop the pedestal. A small leather package, cracked with age but still intact. She couldn’t help but smile.

Sor-Jan Xantha · Feb 5, 2018

A few ground rules...

The young Anzat gave a cryptic, Cheshire Cat smile as the man spoke. They stood at the precipice of knowledge. The frontier, beyond which, lay darkness and light -- metaphorically and literally. And what Sor-Jan heard in the man's warning made him introspective of the question: what did the Jedi bring with them?

When one journeyed into places such as this, the encounter often reflected only what the Jedi brought with them.

Was it fear? Doubtless not called that. Concern was a trap by which many well-meaning Jedi succumbed to worry and anxiety, carrying it with them even while they championed the notion that there was no fear.

There was also supposed to be no attachment, which would be cause for concern, but then Sor-Jan was a Corellian. Their pragmatic Jedi denomination had long ago eschewed the traditional notions regarding attachment. Even still, it was curious to listen to Matthias' words and hear the echo of his own voice echoing somewhere. From the boy's perspective, it was only twenty or so years ago that he'd taken a padawan by the name of Dilandau and raised him to become a Jedi Knight of the Old Republic.

Like Sor-Jan had been, or his master before him.

The bonds between padawan and master were sacrosanct, making it even more hypocritical that they claimed attachment was forbidden. Sor-Jan cared for his master like family. A bond stronger than blood. The only bond that had ever been greater had been his affection for his apprentice. Yes, were Dilly beside him, Sor-Jan would have heard himself saying those same words. Twenty or so years ago...

...except it had been nearly a thousand years ago now.

The separation of a desperate hyperspace jump in a damaged ship placing him far and away from everything that he'd known. Standing there, at the mouth of the temple, Sor-Jan thought of the last time that he'd seen Dilandau. There was no greater Jedi in Sor-Jan's eye, and no better friend. He had taken a padawan for himself, a young Gran named Teela. Sor-Jan would have liked to have imagined that the two had many adventures together, visiting the sacred places of the galaxy, secrets made known to him by his master, which Sor-Jan had passed down.

He feared reality may have been much different than what he imagined. Much harsher. Much shorter. It was a guilt he was ever mindful of, for the fact that it was what he brought with him. And so that was what the darkness and light ahead reflected. Somewhere, on the edge of hearing, the fading echoes of a familiar voice was speaking. Somewhere, on the peripheral of vision, shadows on the wall moved in the silhouette of a Twi'lek. Or a Gran. Or a Thisspiasian. The ghosts of Jedi past, whom Sor-Jan had struggled in his vanity to make proud, and feared in his guilt to have disappointed.

So the boy listened and reflected on Mathias' words, questioning the meaning behind them, and offering what was perhaps a different point of view. "Some paths we must walk alone."

If the Force was here then it was very possible two people could be walking beside each other and become separated. If there was any prophecy here, that was rarely intended for an audience. When the Force spoke to any of them, it did so in private.

Progflaw99 · Feb 23, 2018

Perhaps a measure of his own trepidation, he'd instructed the others not to wander alone. In a moment of silence as he admired the stretching mural along one of the walls. He didn't feel anything malevolent her, how could he? But he still felt a knot in the pit of his stomach, as if somehow the abandoned temple itself knew something he did not, could see truths about himself that he could not. It was in part, unsettling, but at the same time almost liberating. How many places had he called home over the years, only to suddenly be uprooted and forced to find a new home? Too many to count, but this.. this felt like something solid.

As the groups began to disperse, he wandered towards a corridor off the main entrance, lights flickering to life as his foot touched a painted stone on the floor. Ancient yes, but not barbaric. The hallway became illuminated, etched stones along the corridor casing strangely calming shadows across the floor - or perhaps it wasn't the shadows so much as the corridor itself. Through the stillness there he could feel a stir, a gentle passing of air, a quiet tugging on the edge of his mind. It was no longer a matter of if Mathias wanted to explore this corridor and what lie beyond, but he was nearly compelled to. As he looked back over his shoulder, he made eye contact with one of the newer arrivals. The man's name escaped his memory, but he looked familiar, he just had one of those faces.

"I think I see something down this way, care to join me?"

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