Purposed to Protect
PROSPERITY'S GUARDIAN
PROSPERITY // JUST OUTSIDE BRYN’ADUL SPACE // EN ROUTE TO ATOLLON
OPEN TO THE NEW JEDI ORDER AND THE BRYN'ADUL
YOU WANT IT DARKER
A duo of peculiar things had happened in the past week.
One –– Asmundr’d been assaulted by a mysterious, feverish vision. A silhouette in distress. Day after day, this spectral spectacle assailed him. The familiar shape never got close enough to decipher but proved sufficiently that it persevered and fought larger configurations, but it was weakening each day. Any opacity amidst the outlines was starting to wane. As far as prophecy went, he imagined this had a direct correlation to time and how it was running out.
Two –– intense reverse engineering aboard Peace, the superstructure’s artificially intelligent gatekeeper managed to decrypt a distress signal and redistribute it to other patched in networks, including the smart communications system aboard Prosperity. Finally, Peace and Prosperity were able to interface.
The notification from Peace to Prosperity came just as Asmundr was at a breaking point of frustration. The details were too vague for him to place, though he had a strong sense of the location. He’d been navigating through the stars long enough to understand the whims of his visions, but the technical support finalized and made sense of the wight facing a plight in his dream. He’d seen Grandmaster Wyatt Morga . And he was in distress, isolated within Bryn’adul space.
While the New Jedi Order had conversations about organization, the dissemination and distribution of such information were –– for now –– his responsibility. A glorified golden operator, Asmundr was more than happy to broadcast to all the eager ears. He was less pleased about the message itself, though, given this one was rooted in distress and loss and would result in one of his least favourite things: Danger.
Thus here he was, standing and observing the more able amongst them as they rallied to rescue the former Grandmaster from the clutches of the Galaxy’s most xenophobic and atrociously malevolent species. They’d been respectfully sombre enough as he talked them through the details he’d been able to understand, but there were many unknowns.
To accompany his information, he’d replayed the recordings from DSCRD training droids and distributed notes to individual datapads on strengths and weaknesses of the Bryn’adul from firsthand accounts.
None of it made him feel less cowardice, nor any more confident in the collection of youthful warriors gathered to rescue the lonesome Jedi. They’d be facing foes that were responsible for the genocide of at least eleven species.
He shuddered at the thought and watched as the shuttles filled with brave souls descended to the remote, destitute terrain below and mouthed to himself the iconic reassurance: May The Force be with you.
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