Time Lost Jedi
Character:
Kalon Sal
The library had been a place rarely visited by Kalon as a child, too quiet, with too many rules, and Master Nu had always scolded him about disturbing the other patrons with his outside voice. But after 900 years on ice, he'd become a sponge for information, trying to learn as much as he could as quickly as possible. Whatever had changed in the galaxy after a millennia, one thing that would nearly always be a constant would be that a fool would go nowhere, left behind by his betters. But despite his newfound drive for reading and book learning, Kalon's progress was painfully slow. He couldn't just cram a millennia's worth of events into his head in the span of a couple of days, no matter the amount of effort, planets had been destroyed, stars snuffed out, empires had risen and fallen as quickly as they came after leaving painful scars on the galaxy.
It was a large pill to swallow to say the least. But he kept at it for a long while, scrolling through data terminals until his eyes hurt, and he felt a definite need to take a rest. He was tired and sick of reading, but a morbid curiosity took hold of the young Jedi; he input his old name into the the terminal search, typing the letters with bated breath as he watched his name fill the screen and pressed 'search'. A picture of himself came up, far younger, before the Clone War had started, he still had his padawan braid and was smiling broadly, not a care in the world save for making sure that Kenuro didn't discover his not-so-secret stash of cigarra.
The image came with a slew of information about his origins: Ronan Syral, born on Corellia, taken at three, placed into Clawmouse Clan as a youngling, Padawan learner to Jedi Master Kenuro, fought in the first battle of Geonosis and throughout the Clone War had listed as dead in the Great Jedi Purge some years after Order 66. There was a list of the battles he'd fought in as well, and a brief statement about the 12th Legion and the 104th Battlegroup detailing their bravery and service to the Republic. Then the record ends, and according to Galactic Alliance, Ronan Syral ceased to exist.
He sighed as he stared at the screen, a mix of nostalgia and sadness settling over him. For all the horrors of war, all the pain and suffering, the losses endured and the hell that he'd seen, Kalon missed it, he longed for the conflict. During the Clone War, he served a purpose, a soldier, a warrior, a general, he'd led legions of men into combat on some of the worst places the Galaxy had to offer and come out on top, once the "Dragon of the Outer Rim" a man who'd faced down numerous Dark Jedi and Sith Acolytes. Now he was a man out of place, with no family or friends to speak of, with only the kindness of the New Jedi Order keeping him fed, clothed and housed.
New Jedi Order.
The thought made him scoff, a hint of derision evident in the noise. The Jedi Order that he knew was long gone in the fires of Order 66, and what had risen in its place was something far more liberal than he'd ever imagined. These people, they grew attached and loved openly, they raised families and joined hands in marriage, they were happy with each other, and the sight of it made Kalon more bitter than the liquor they served in the Outlander Club. He'd been denied love twice in his lifetime, Relya had been pulled from him in the Twilight of the War, and Ilana had given her life to ensure that he would live to see the light of the stars, both times his adoptive father had counseled him against giving himself to either. The old Chiss Master was a staunch believer in the Jedi Code, even after the Sacking of the Temple and the beginning of the Jedi Purge he'd expressed distaste in the idea of either of them committing to a woman.
A ball of resentment formed in his stomach, threatening to overtake the man before the feeling was shoved into the back of his mind. Kenuro had always been good to him, as a Master and a father, it'd be a disrespect to his memory to hold a grudge over his attempts to keep Kalon in line with their beliefs. But now the Order had changed, and the Korun was left without either of the women who'd once held his heart in their hands. All that remained was longing, for times past and lovers never truly loved, and a burning hatred for those who'd taken his family twice over, it was salt in the wound that revenge would never be possible, and that Kalon would go the rest of his life knowing that he'd been betrayed twice over, and that both times he'd failed to avenge the loss he'd incurred.
The Knight sighed and leaned back in his seat, watching the screen for a long time as he let his feelings settle inside of him.
Kalon Sal
The library had been a place rarely visited by Kalon as a child, too quiet, with too many rules, and Master Nu had always scolded him about disturbing the other patrons with his outside voice. But after 900 years on ice, he'd become a sponge for information, trying to learn as much as he could as quickly as possible. Whatever had changed in the galaxy after a millennia, one thing that would nearly always be a constant would be that a fool would go nowhere, left behind by his betters. But despite his newfound drive for reading and book learning, Kalon's progress was painfully slow. He couldn't just cram a millennia's worth of events into his head in the span of a couple of days, no matter the amount of effort, planets had been destroyed, stars snuffed out, empires had risen and fallen as quickly as they came after leaving painful scars on the galaxy.
It was a large pill to swallow to say the least. But he kept at it for a long while, scrolling through data terminals until his eyes hurt, and he felt a definite need to take a rest. He was tired and sick of reading, but a morbid curiosity took hold of the young Jedi; he input his old name into the the terminal search, typing the letters with bated breath as he watched his name fill the screen and pressed 'search'. A picture of himself came up, far younger, before the Clone War had started, he still had his padawan braid and was smiling broadly, not a care in the world save for making sure that Kenuro didn't discover his not-so-secret stash of cigarra.
The image came with a slew of information about his origins: Ronan Syral, born on Corellia, taken at three, placed into Clawmouse Clan as a youngling, Padawan learner to Jedi Master Kenuro, fought in the first battle of Geonosis and throughout the Clone War had listed as dead in the Great Jedi Purge some years after Order 66. There was a list of the battles he'd fought in as well, and a brief statement about the 12th Legion and the 104th Battlegroup detailing their bravery and service to the Republic. Then the record ends, and according to Galactic Alliance, Ronan Syral ceased to exist.
He sighed as he stared at the screen, a mix of nostalgia and sadness settling over him. For all the horrors of war, all the pain and suffering, the losses endured and the hell that he'd seen, Kalon missed it, he longed for the conflict. During the Clone War, he served a purpose, a soldier, a warrior, a general, he'd led legions of men into combat on some of the worst places the Galaxy had to offer and come out on top, once the "Dragon of the Outer Rim" a man who'd faced down numerous Dark Jedi and Sith Acolytes. Now he was a man out of place, with no family or friends to speak of, with only the kindness of the New Jedi Order keeping him fed, clothed and housed.
New Jedi Order.
The thought made him scoff, a hint of derision evident in the noise. The Jedi Order that he knew was long gone in the fires of Order 66, and what had risen in its place was something far more liberal than he'd ever imagined. These people, they grew attached and loved openly, they raised families and joined hands in marriage, they were happy with each other, and the sight of it made Kalon more bitter than the liquor they served in the Outlander Club. He'd been denied love twice in his lifetime, Relya had been pulled from him in the Twilight of the War, and Ilana had given her life to ensure that he would live to see the light of the stars, both times his adoptive father had counseled him against giving himself to either. The old Chiss Master was a staunch believer in the Jedi Code, even after the Sacking of the Temple and the beginning of the Jedi Purge he'd expressed distaste in the idea of either of them committing to a woman.
A ball of resentment formed in his stomach, threatening to overtake the man before the feeling was shoved into the back of his mind. Kenuro had always been good to him, as a Master and a father, it'd be a disrespect to his memory to hold a grudge over his attempts to keep Kalon in line with their beliefs. But now the Order had changed, and the Korun was left without either of the women who'd once held his heart in their hands. All that remained was longing, for times past and lovers never truly loved, and a burning hatred for those who'd taken his family twice over, it was salt in the wound that revenge would never be possible, and that Kalon would go the rest of his life knowing that he'd been betrayed twice over, and that both times he'd failed to avenge the loss he'd incurred.
The Knight sighed and leaned back in his seat, watching the screen for a long time as he let his feelings settle inside of him.
