Private Masters of the Mind

[Jegy Sesara]

It has been well over an hours worth of preparation for this event. Each candle was specifically set up around the large circular room, the chairs that were generally here were pushed aside or put up in the next room. He had asked for this room in particular to be the meditation room for this evening, wanting the space and the outlook of the entire city before them. All around them was a glass dome, showcasing high above all the other skyscrapers of Coruscant. No speeders would be zooming by, the entire room was set to look up into the sky and overlook the city. Today, it would function as a place of peace and tranquility.

Going over with a small match, he would light it with his fingers and carefully light each candle around him. Each one would slowly illuminate the room a bit brighter, filling with the scents of the ocean, forests, and even fresh carpet. His own clothing would shine a bit brighter, it being a rather dull tan robe that merely covered his body for it was not of formal wear, nor for fashion. It was just a plain, drab brown robe that looked similar to a Tuskens outfit. Lighting the final candle, the Sullustan would blow out the match and wave it a few times, putting it next to one of the candles for later. Grabbing two throw cushions, he would place one for himself and one for the person that would come in very soon. Being completely unarmed, he would slowly cross his legs and sit on the throw cushion, breathing in then back out as he waited patiently for the other to come in, keeping his mind here and now, preventing himself from remembering times of sadness.

 

[Tasha Blackmoor]

Tasha has had such a long time of going without proper meditation. She had first attempted to seek aid from cedric-grayson. And while he did help begin the process, it was far beyond over. He had however invited her into the Grayson Imperium, something she ultimately accepted. And with that came the possibility of further study with other masters. Tasha did indeed have mastery of some parts. Technopathy was one of her greatest feats and she has even learned to use shatterpoint. In regards to combat, she was very hard to best. But when it came to the subtleties of the force, and the connection a jedi should have with it, she was lacking. Her trauma from a year of torment left her shaken in scarred on the inside and the outside. And as a result, meditation had proven immensely difficult. The silence of a mind, well, it welcomed memories she did not want to be welcomed back. Memories that she could try to ignore, or work past, but which prevented her from truly focusing solely on the light side.

Unlike the master she was visiting, she was wearing armor. It was common for her, in fact when out in public it was practically unusual to see her not both armed and protected by her armor except for the helmet which she usually reserved for actual combat. The same could be said with today. She wore the armor, though it was mostly covered by a Rancor hide cloak, and though she was far less armed then normal she knew her ship was not far away. And thus, she held only her first lightsaber, and her Guardbreaker. Both lightsabers, but one was the traditional jedi weapon, the other was a weapon of battle.

Although not actively in emotional pain, the thought of meditating, and the memories of what happened each time before since the crisis, haunted her in this moment as she approached the room set up by Jegy Sesara . Her entrance would be asked by a knocking on the door or wall, should it have no door, speaking, "This is Tasha Blackmoor, may I enter?"

 

[Jegy Sesara]

The Sullustan would wait silently, legs crossed as his mind would begin to wander. Breathing in, he would look down for a brief moment to steel his mind. Looking back up, his eyes would go wide on seeing something as a voice would ring out loud, throwing him off and looking towards the woman in question, Tasha Blackmoor . Looking at her, he would look back forward to find the apparition gone, breathing out as he looked a bit exhausted already from what he just saw. Looking back towards Miss Blackmoor, he would motion with his right hand to come forward, his robe almost concealing his hands.

"Ah Miss Blackmoor. Yes, come in, come in sit down! I see you are...all armored up. That is perfectly fine, you are not the first to meditate in a nearly full suit of armor."

Motioning her to sit across, he would gently back himself up a little with his cushion to give the appropriate amount of room for Miss Blackmoor. The Sullustan been taught to always give females all the space they required and in his mind, considered ladies to be given a wide berth of respect. Sometimes it does not work out that way but today, he was on his best manners in full, sighing as he put both his hands together, looking across when she would come and sit. His dull green eyes would look at hers, as if looking into her soul for a brief moment as he started to speak.

"I will warn that...meditation is always something that...awakens the worst in us. Not just of bad memories but of things we wish to do. If at any time it becomes to much, just get up and walk around or let me know what I can do to assist. This room is safe and sacred right now...silence is our friend, silence is our ally. It is our helper of reflection, as well as healer of our souls. I will also warn that during this...that you may feel emotions from me that will feel sinister, vile, evil or of great sorrow, anger, and pain. You may go through the same thing but realize that it is natural during meditation...it is the way our body tells us...what we need to confront to be mentally cleansed."

Slowly, he would lift both of his hands and place them onto his knees as he looked forward at her, almost looking through her as he slowly breathed in. He really did not want to...but he would soon slowly close his eyes, breathing out as he started to feel everything around him. Each little thing seemed to be nagging him in his mind, the bugs outside the window, the chatter of those a floor below and finally the Force the surrounds them that very moment. Speaking again, he would relay a set of instructions.

"Empty your mind...be fluid, like water. You are shapeless...formless just like the Force. Slowly, open your mind to everything around you, let it be like a flower blooming for the first time. Look around in your mind...you will see things that not even I could see. The bugs, the chatter...the whole room is nothing but the Force. If the Spectre is to show...know that you are in control, that you can look upon it and make it into nothing. You are the Master of your own Mind. The Force is fluid, a conduit through you. Be patient...be calm."

 

[Tasha Blackmoor]

Tasha walked in with a nod, "Thank you." she responded simply, coming and sitting down. He mentioned the armor, and that it was fine, but she shrugged, choosing still to explain, "The feeling of having armor on helps keep me calm. And I've messed with a lot of people, I like to be protected."

She did not mention it anymore as they began, he gave her plenty of room which was nice. She crossed her legs, adjusting the lightsabers and then removing them, setting them together behind her and breathing in and out. Slow breaths. Trying to began to calm her. He looked at her with eyes that seemed to glimpse beyond the physical. She paused, not breathing until he spoke.

He spoke of a warning, what meditation would bring. Well, he certainly was right about that. For years Tasha's attempts at meditation only brought pains and struggles to her. And certainly not the peace one would think it promised. However, he did tell her not to try to push when it was becoming to bad. Which was good, because she probably did not have a choice if it got that far. She breathed in again, deeply, as he continued. Taking more preparations to this attempt. She nodded her head as he finished about what she might sense in him as well. As he breathed in slowly, so did she, and shut her eyes.

"KNEEL!" The voice was quiet but it was still present. The first made her twitch. She heard Jegy Sesara speak to her. And tried to obey. Empty the mi-"GET THE WHIP!"-nd. Take your time. Sense everything else. The voices were silent for a moment. As she began to feel the world. Wasn't that nice, to feel how things moved. The air, as even footsteps caused it to move and bend around doors. The way that life warmed itself. She could sense her ship from here, the way energy coursed through its wires. The way it could throb with life at a moments notice. She-"BREAK HER!"She flinched. Her heart beat two steps faster. A twitch of the eye. Feel the water. Feel the -Crack. A breath out quicker then she liked. Pay attenti-CRACK. The whip within her own memories came once again. Her breathing quickened. Her jaw began to shake. A hand went to her back, a feeling. A feeling of a knife. "YOU'll LEARN!"
She reached for her head opening her eyes, her breathing fast, her heart racing, her jaw clenched as she shook, "Don't speak. Don't, don't, don't do anything." Her first lightsaber rattled towards her, from its place on the ground, she did not reach for it. She just shook. Waiting, "Please, stop." She clenched her head harder as the image of the whips, the knife, every cut and slash. Every thought tried to rush itself back. "There's no quiet for you girl. You'll never forget this."

Perhaps Jegy could hear the sounds of the crack, perhaps the words. But even if he could not sense those that were within her mind. Even if he were not able to sense the pain, the fear, the twinkling of rage that threatened her heart. He could see it. The shaking the tears. One year was all it took. Just one year of her youth gone with the slavers had reduced her. " Just wait." Her voice was shaky. It was factual, yet pained. It spoke a command, not to the master, but to herself. "I'm sorry, I failed."
She wasn't talking about this. But the mission, a mission she'd chosen for herself, without her masters approval at the time. A mission that had driven her here. Her breathing was slowing again, her heart beat slowing. But she still sat, eyes staring at the floor. Waiting for it to end.

 

[Jegy Sesara]

"Armor is heavy, armor makes movement slower. Then again...I get hurt a lot."

Giving a small smile with his eyes closed, he would slowly let his mind walk through the realms of the Force. Memories would slowly start to flood in, the environment around his mind would start to change. The room ceased to exist, instead it would start to become parts of sand as a harp would play on the side. Lifting his head up slowly, he would look to the left as there was a cloaked woman, playing a harp with a helmet on to obscure all of her features. She would slowly get up, plucking the strings on her harp. Going in front of the Sullustan, sitting beside him, she would play for him for what felt an eternity. The two would gaze into each others eyes, each giving a hidden smile to the other.

Then the ebbings of the others memories would soon try to merge into his own, making his mind slowly corrupt. It was soon the wedding ceremony, he was looking upon the most beautiful woman of his life. His eyes would widen while still shut, trying to speak mentally to himself to stop it. Trying to pull her aside but it happened once again, his memory could not lie to him. A single blaster bolt, feeling what was left of her head was on his own face, his own clothing. Then his mind almost collapsed, feeling all of his anger pour out as screams would envelop his mind, all of his sorrow screaming out as his body shook hard before finally, snapping his eyes open on hearing the words "You'll Learn!".

The Sullustan could see before him what was happening to Tasha Blackmoor , how her body was shaking, the tears that was slowly trying to come out, the lightsaber rattling...he could tell. Very slowly, he would extend his arms, trying very delicately to place his hands on top of hers when she said that she had failed. If she was to look at the Sullustan, he to would be shaken slightly from his own experience as he was able to conceal it much better...though his feelings betrayed him for it was of sorrow. Tapping gently on top of her hands, he would speak as it was a gentle voice but also of one where his pain could be felt.

"We all...have our demons. Yours is...just something to overcome. I know the feeling of anger way to well...that feeling of fear...of vengeance. That need to inflict onto those who made you feel like this. I want to say it right now...holding onto those feelings, letting those feelings control you and letting those memories affect your every move...won't help you. It took me fifteen years to get over the fact over how much I lost."

"When I was...fifteen, I was to marry a girl that I have fell in love when I was so young. It being arranged was...just something else to look forward to. We used to be around each other like friends...sharing our thoughts, holding hands towards the future. Then it came to be the wedding ceremony, the first time I ever got to see her eyes. She was the most beautiful woman in the entire galaxy, the most shining radiance of innocence of my life. Then as we looked at each other, speaking our vows...a blaster bolt went out, striking her in the head and killing her."

There was a very long silence as he breathed in, looked down and tried to control his emotions. This was a very sensitive subject to even discuss with Miss Blackmoor but he felt it was necessary, to show her what kind of memories can transport people back to their hell. Breathing back out, he would tap the top of her hands a few more times to not only relax her, but himself. Looking back up at last, he would finish what he wanted to tell her.

"I flew into a rage...a rage unlike anything I felt before. I barely can remember what happened...they spoke of me controlling the skies, the sands themselves as I delivered onto them untold fury of the Force. I destroyed their speeders with my hands, I dismembered their men with swipes of my fingers...and more so at the end...I buried the hunters camp, those who were paid to kill my people in droves for credits...under a hundred meters of sand from where I stood. I became Death to them...I let the Dark Side become my outlet. And it became my outlet...for over fifteen years and it kept building."

"From it...my entire village was burned to the ground, my mother and father slaughtered by a Dark Jedi, cutting my throat and leaving me to die. I crawled in the desert till I found help, an Ithorian I only speak as Mentor. And he died to by him...I became so angry, so infuriated with my life that I took charge. I became one of the most dangerous men in the mid rim by the time I was in my mid twenties as an Inquisitor...I slayed the Dark Jedi, I brought order I thought to the region. I found love again, married and had a child...and like before, it crumbled to the ground when....I..."

The Sullustan would go silent, looking down as he just went quiet. The subject had finally became to much for him, his body language would show it. His eyes were cast completely down, his eye lids were almost completely closed. His own hands would shake onto hers, no longer tapping but of someone who was afraid. When he finally looked up, he looked to be in pain and possibly a forming of a tear in his left eye...a break in his own armor.

"Miss Blackmoor...I suffered for fifteen years of my life with anguish, that anger, those voices that never cease. Take it from an old man who went down the path of vengeance, came back losing everything along with years of their life and those he cared for around him. Those memories...will never define who you are, those voices will never control your life. You physically, can never be harmed by those voices again. They can make you sad...yes, they can make you think...but in meditation, when you finally say you found Peace, those voices vanish like wind in the breeze."

"So no...you did not fail Miss Blackmoor. You are just taking a small success, one piece at a time. They will never control you again. If you want to know what my Master told me so long ago that I finally was able to meditate...here it is. He looked at me in the eyes...grabbed my belt of weapons and threw them across the room. He told me the war was done with me...as I was done with it. There is no war in meditation...it is just you and you alone."

 

[Tasha Blackmoor]

Tasha was so filled with her own pain it was ever so hard to sense those of Jegy Sesara . Powerful though he may be, her mind was so busy and broken within the images and pains that plagued her. She did not have the strength to raise her eyes to see him, not that she could see him. As memories flooded her mind. As the memories slid in and out, so many, so many. She did manage to feel his hands, twitching instinctively, but trying to hold still knowing it was not a real threat.

She heard him speak, as her mind slowly had something else to pay attention to. Tired eyes glanced across the floor. They say time heals all. But it's been years and she was barely any better. She heard him speak, about what vengeance was. The results of the feelings. He didn't need to remind her of that. Those slavers, they didn't exist anymore. Thanks to her. There was no more vengeance on them to take. It was only her own strength that pulled her out of that rage. How close she had tread, how close.

She heard his voice, gentle, helpful. And most importantly. Distracting. He began to tell her a story, a story she felt she could see so easily. A story of what he'd been through. It was hard to discuss things like this, she knew that closely. The fact he was telling her was important. She needed help. She needed peace. The sullusten gave his story, he was powerful apparently. Probably far more then she was, though in a very different way. She was a skilled and powerful telikinetic...but his description was different. Ah, distraction. The visions were beginning to fade. As did her shaking. Her heart slowing down again as she began to feel exhaustion rather then pain.

Jegy Sesara had been through a lot. It took a long way into his story before she began to stop shaking, before she stopped, able to put her hands down, just trying to breath deeply. Eyes still downcast, letting her tears roll. letting her mind and body calm itself naturally. He tried to tell her what the voices meant, that they wouldn't define her. That they couldn't hurt her. What meditation could do. Telling her about how she didn't fail. She still hurt. She heard his statement about war from his own master.

When she spoke, it was soft, distant, she knew she needed help. She didn't know how much he could or couldn't. But Cedric had believed it was important to know it. "I only had a year, that was all it took. One year of almost non-stop torture. I almost never had silence. And since then, whenever there is silence, it all comes back. I haven't truly been at peace since then." she looked him in the eyes, saddened as well, "I killed them. Not like you, not with power. Not in a moment. When I finally escaped, I lost myself to the darkside. I'd never been so angered and hurt before. Ships, speeders, droids, they were all mine. My army. I killed them however I wanted, explosions, blasters, I didn't care when they begged."

She grabbed her lightsaber, her first, the simple one. "This lightsaber is normal. It's a jedi's weapon, but I've killed people with it. So many. I keep it not because of that, but because it did not commit the actions. I did. I used everything. And when it hurt them more, it made me angrier, and yet it made it better. I was filled with so much rage. I hunted down the entire group that had captured me. Killed them all. But...then I just kept going. I barely managed to stop myself, out of fear. They called me the Slaves Revenge. I went home, to my parents. I worked harder then ever to be better then what I was once, in every way."

Setting down the original and putting the bladed hilt of her Guard Breaker. Curved hilt, a pommel that secretly could electrocute, a hand-guard of phrik to deflect blades. It was a weapon of battle. "And I needed evidence. I made this. Maybe you wouldn't approve, maybe not. It was made for battle. I found a lava crystal, which is part of why armor is so important to me. You can't even use this without protection if you don't want to get hurt. And yet, I can do so much more with it. It's not darkness. Red, battle-made. And yet it's no more of a killer then anything else to me. I started focusing. But I could never meditate again, never truly rest. I failed my master, he never told me to go. It was my choice to go after the slavers alone and they just...never came for me. I don't know what happened to him, and I never went back. I barely even remember what he was a part of by now. What I remember is that year of pain, and the following rampage. I've never fully forgiven slavers, because it's never fully left me. No matter how many times I try to forget. I'd practically stopped trying to meditate all together after a few years."

She smiled looking at the sword, "I'm not a peace-maker. I never was. This is just me accepting what I need to be, and this is me recognizing what I was. And yet, I'm still in between. I'm not yet the soldier of the light it feels like I need to be, nor am I still the battle-crazed child. What I am, is in pain. I don't know how to meditate fully, I just...don't know if I can."

 

[Jegy Sesara]

The Sullustan would silently listen to her story, breathing in and out as he started to calm his mind. Each set of words would make him remember things he wish he did not. Slavers...it always seem to circle back around them eventually. He could hear the cries in the back of his mind, his brief moments of rage but he kept it suppressed, hidden from view. She did not need to know about it...it was long ago and what happened, he still partly blames himself. Killing them unlike he did...part of him wanted to speak up and perhaps he will, his story was not sunshine and rainbows of just death, it was a lot worse.

Then he saw the two lightsabers before him. The first being the one she described, the weapon of the so called Jedi. His eyes would examine across it, keeping in mind of its design and what she said it was for and what it was used. When the second one was shown, it became much more complicated. This was a weapon if he ever saw one, the design of Phrik strikes out at him, something he has grown accustomed to over the hundreds of years of his life. Red...something to talk on later as he kept listening, how she failed her Master and never went back. A lost apprentice...finally, he heard what she said she was. A Soldier, a person in pain, hiding behind the weapon.

"You can...but you are hiding behind what makes you feel safe."

Getting up with a groan, he stretched and walked over to one of the sides of the glass dome. He overlooked a section of the city, looking across it as if to make notice with a particular area. His right hand would almost clench into a fist, looking at his forearm as he slowly pulled back the sleeve to reveal the tattoo. It was a dull glowing purple, it was the tattoo of the Prophets. It signified his rank as Fourth Circle, a rather high rank in the society. He would stare at it for a good period and then look over towards the building, that particular building as he growled a little at it while speaking.

"You say...you killed people however you could. Did not care when they begged. Before that point, anyone that was part of killing my first family, I took to a chair right about where you were sitting, tied them up and tore the skin off their arms, dislocated their bones till I got the information of where the others would be...then I would kill them. I was very good at it...getting information from those who did not want to give it out voluntarily...I was called by others the Shaman. I got things done...when no one else wanted to, however dirty the work had to be...however much blood needed to be spilled, even if it meant harming others in the process."

"The day I lost my mind...when I lost my second family, I had six lightsabers on me. Three single, one dueling, staff, and a pike. Three blasters...a scout, an acid thrower and a specialized disruptor. On top of that, I had songsteel chainmail in blood red to match with my robes. I marched up towards the area in Talus where they were based...and every person in there was killed. Not just a simple swish...I threw them around like rag dolls, I impaled them onto spikes of durasteel, I killed their leader with his own throne and then sat on it...at the end, overlooking all of the corpses. It then hit me...what I had become...the very thing, I swore not to have happen to anyone else...the very thing, that I despised."

Slowly, he would turn to look at her, to gauge her reaction as he very slowly walked back over to the throw pillow and kneel in a different position, instead of sitting. His body language was a whole lot different now, it was more tense instead of relaxed. His own eyes looked to be of intensity instead of calm. The memories flooded into him of a warrior...a warrior, he no longer was. Looking back up at her, he would gently speak, calming himself from before.

"Let me say these things...then you can decide what you want to do. I been told my entire life I been nothing more than a weapon, just like what you say about your lightsaber. I disagree...I am a tool. I am a multi-tool to better phrase it. Look at me...do you see a killer? Do you know that I am a surgeon that heals? That goes off adventuring into the depths of ruins, searching for knowledge? Aiding refugees in moments of crisis...sometimes called...ugh I hate this word, a hero? No, no one ever does."

"You yourself...are a tool. Not in the bad way, but a tool that is specialized into one thing. Become a multi-tool. Your master knew that when you left, you wanted to prove yourself. Wherever he is right now, I am sure your Master still thinks about you in his deepest moments...not as someone who failed, but as someone he worries about. I know also though that if he saw you...he would take your lightsabers ever so gently...and put them to the side, grab you and tell you everything will be okay. People say time heals...I disagree, it heals when you are ready. It took me a long time to heal from what I done, from what I suffered."

"So...take my advice when I say this. Look at your hands...let it all out, let your body forgive itself. When you do so...you realize all those weapons, those pieces of armor...you don't need them, you start to cast them aside. You are not a soldier when you come to the Light Side of the Force...you are one of many followers who finally close their eyes and let themselves flow in the Force at long last, in pure peace. You find tranquility and hope. The ability...to move on with your life. Now...come on, close your eyes. Cast away what you believe in...cast in, what your heart wants to tell you."

Tasha Blackmoor

 

[Tasha Blackmoor]

She heard him explain in turn what he did. The extent to which he had gone. At first there was the similarity. But there were also so many differences between their stories. Tasha's trauma came from the actions of others first, directed at her. His came from actions directed at his loved ones, and his actions directed at them. Her reaction to her enemies was in-compassionate eradication, revenge, but very calculated revenge based on end goals being their existence being eliminated physical. His was a destruction of their minds. They both lost their minds, but while his sent him into an entirely new route, hers lasted a much shorter time and once her main goal was completed, she soon finished her rampage.

He was powerful, from his explanations alone that was an easy thing to tell. Perhaps that was why he was so much more drastically influenced then her. But then again, he came back. And his descriptions didn't speak as much about the physical pain he endured like hers did. But emotional pain. He described himself as a multi-tool. As well as her. He was saying she specialized in one thing. A cut-off might be felt in that moment. Tasha knew he was trying to help, or at least she believed so. But she did not believe he fully understood her either. She did call herself a soldier, it was what she was good at. It was her primary purpose in her mind, to fight. But a soldier is not a singular specialization. Even a normal soldier must know how to both attack and defend, how to guard, and how to survey. He took it more broadly. And of course she knew she was not only a soldier, she was a businesswoman as well. Providing weapons, though notably her weapons had a common defensive trait to many of them. The armor she wore, the energy shields, even the sonic blasters were designed with a stun setting. Because soldier though she may be, she took a route of caution and protection first.

She knew he was powerful, maybe he was even wise. But she didn't believe he understood, further believing this as he explained that she did not need the weapons or armor, and that she should let her body forgive itself. Told her that she should cast away what she believes and in what her 'heart wants' to tell her. She didn't yet close her eyes, she looked at him with a combination of uncertainty. He had indeed distracted her, managed to bring away the sensations she had. But that didn't mean she agreed with him. "Armor, weapons, they are necessary. Or wars could be lost more easily by those who need to win. You may say that I am hiding behind them, perhaps in some ways I can. But there are those who claim Jedi hide behind the force and rely on it too much. And even if I do forgive myself, it is not me that is the core problem. It's memories. As long as they remain finding piece has become almost impossible, because silence only brings them back."

Letting out a sigh she looked down,"As for my heart, well. It would probably love to destroy every slaver that ever exists. And that's a path I will not take. I may try to...let my body forgive itself as you suggest. And I may try to silence the voices. But if all it took was a change in belief to return my connection to the force properly, I'd have fixed the problem myself long ago."

Jegy Sesara

 

[Jegy Sesara]

His ears were open, listening upon what she had to say. The silence among the voices were common with him, he did not say it out loud though. Voices...there was always at least five of them, some hurt more than others. As she kept talking, she heard she would love to destroy every slaver which to maybe his own surprise, he would nod to in agreement. He felt that pain from others for a long time...and a dear friend of his felt that pain as well, a friend...he would shake his head before it overtook him, looking over at her as he spoke.

"The Force...I will agree that I rely on it to much...but I always felt it was a give or take with it. As for memories...I am unsure how to help. We are different...yours lasted for a year...mine lasts for a day or two, replaying the same exact moment over and over again. Problem is that the voices in my head...beg to save them...and I am just powerless. I trained my body every day, pushing my own limits to ensure that never happens again...perhaps that is why I hide behind the Force...because I keep pushing myself hard as I could, to be the savior when the time is right."

Now it had reflected onto the Sullustan himself, it had came nearly full circle as he looked down, giving a long sigh. Oddly at this time, he heard the pattering on the glass above them, clouds were forming as rain gently started to fall. Realizing it, the Sullustan started to look up at the rain as it started to move across the glass. No matter how old he gotten, he always was fascinated with the rain, when it fell around him. He always took it as a sign...something that someone wanted to tell him, his eyes looked glossy as he kept watching the rain, speaking out loud.

"When I was younger...the Pavans whom were Inquistors I was dear friends with, had an adopted daughter per say. She was a beautiful human girl...I cared deeply for her though my advances were always...bad. I was never good at expressing my feelings. One day, my boss whom was Lady Pavan, told me that she was kidnapped while trying to get her business up and running. I spent day and night for over a week...looking for her as it happened on Tatooine. After her agents found a lead, we stormed the house and realized she was taken by slavers...and in my rage on hearing what they would do to her, I killed our only lead. She suffered for two more days due to my anger, something I never forgave myself for...still don't after I realize how much spice they put into her system. I failed her...as I did with others. I never asked for her hand again...I was unworthy. That was the day I trained to keep my emotions under control, something that they said was...unlike our ways. But I needed to...else it would happen again."

Looking down upon her, he merely watched her eyes as the rain would start to pour a bit louder, echoing barely around them. Each patter on the glass seemed to make the Sullustan more calm, as if drowning out what had made him feel this way, speaking out loud again.

"I can never control my memories, nor change them...I can only learn to deal with them, to reflect on who I am, and what I do to prevent it from happening again. I have a lot of sins to deal with...and a lot of regrets. At the end of the day though, I look up at the sky and see when it rains, I feel my soul becoming clean, my mind becoming clear. It is if...I am being reborn again. To be given another chance at life...the Force has watched me for a very long time. I never believed in changing what I am at heart...but I did believe, on changing what I can be in the future. Those men...who hurt me...as much as they hurt you, can never define who you are. At heart to me, I am still a Doctor and a horrible romantic with horrible songs to go with it in Tusken. Long as I remember who I am at heart...then those memories, cannot harm me. When they try to...I remember what I became years later, a warrior of battle, a man whose belief was of Order to spread across the galaxy."

"Forgive me if I...seem to deviate, I never been good at...well, teaching. All I know to say is...what I been through myself though at this point, I think you are teaching me...more than I am teaching you about yourself...or myself...or however that works."

The Sullustan would then give a gentle smile as he started to look back up in the rain, closing his eyes for a few moments to let the noise fill into his mind. Each rap of the rain on the glass made him realize the moments he cherished, the small steps on the porch holding his wife, the rain when it hits the sand with hands holding, the gentle kisses while on the planet of Dathomir...those were good times.

Tasha Blackmoor

 

[Tasha Blackmoor]

There was even an admitting of relying on the force. That was at least a little uncommon she imagined. And he spoke of the differences, and that he was unsure how to help because of those. The difference of the moments being replayed, the difference between how it impacted them. Tasha glanced up at the glass as he did, the rain hitting it. To him it might be peace, and there was some peace to water. For the place she was captured, water was a thing of peace. It was barely given to keep one alive. Freedom. Water went where it went regardless of what the will of another was. It could not be intimidated, it could not be beaten. It rose and fell but it was never in pain.

She heard him explain his experiences with apparently a human girl while he was an inquisitor. The way he reacted when she was taken, and how bad the result was from that. The way that impacted him. She glanced down as he looked back at her, explaining that he couldn't control the memories, just learn to deal. To learn from it. She still had disagreements with things he said. But she couldn't argue that he was at more peace then she was.

He apologized for lack of experience teacher. And even saying she was teaching him. She smiled slightly, taking a pause trying to think with less of an extreme going through her mind. She looked at him in thought trying to consider what to do now, "I want to try again. But, I may want to try something." she glanced at her lightsabers which floated in front of her, as did her helmet. Although she didn't really need the use of telekinesis often, it was one of the few things she'd mastered. Next to technopathy and shatterpoint. "Give me something to focus on. So I can weasel my way in, instead of trying to go in right away. I've...tried before, but not with anyone else around who was force sensitive."

Tasha let out a sigh, "I don't mean to be too much of a burden, but...if you can tell I'm slipping again, can you just...tap me or something. I want to move these around to let my mind have something to turn to and focus on if...if I start hearing and feeling things again."
Jegy Sesara

 

[Jegy Sesara]

He would listen to her reply, blinking a bit as he hoped he had helped. Jegy was sometimes a dull on the emotions of others, he means well but he can misinterpret a lot of things. Watching the lightsabers float around her, along with the helmet, he would hear her response. Give her something to focus on, give her a distraction. Never tried this near a force sensitive...Sullustan felt a bit proud being the first near her though he shook that thought in a hurry. He would then speak when she tried to explain, nodding along with her words.

"Not to worry...I have an idea actually now that you explain it...it be an interesting one."

He would pull out his own lightsaber, an old one of times forgotten. It was made of regal metals, it almost screamed of a Master once close to it though he treated it just like any other. Slowly, he would raise it up and let it go slowly, trying to let her know that she can hold onto it with the Force. Giving a small smile, he would speak again as he let a bit of his past be known, but only a little.

"I shall tap when needed...move it around, feel its energy. Know its owner before me, a man whom overcame every odd to become a man of knowledge. His presence lingers in the lightsaber...imagine what could be told if it was a book, instead of a weapon. It be the greatest novel of its generation."

Again, Jegy was not much help here but he hoped she would focus and move it around also, letting her mind see through it. He would explain a story if need be but right now, he felt slightly useless but wary of what was to come.

Tasha Blackmoor