Preliat Mantis
The Wolf
The gentle patter of rain kept Preliat awake. He had to sleep with the lights on. Truth be told, the total darkness that comforted most to lull to sleep, terrified him. It was early in the evening, and the day had been eventful- at least for Preliat. He had scoured the Silver Jedi's volumes of texts, gaining knowledge on a multitude of things he never would have known had he not been here. He became familiar with the Jedi code- and although he lacked a deep understanding of it, he mostly knew what it meant.Preliat's eyes flickered open. He checked his chronometer, before rising to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He asked [member="Valae Kitra"], the Grandmaster to meet him here. He had a number of questions regarding the Jedi, and he hoped to have a more genuine conversation with the Jedi.
Six years ago, if you had told Preliat Mantis that he'd be not only a guest of the Silver Jedi, but a welcome one at that- he'd have been likely to hit you in the throat. Now, he regretted his time being a bitter, angry man and spiteful to the Jedi. He simply lacked understanding, as many of his people did. He ran a hand through his hair, standing up and walking to the sink in the other room. He stared at his reflection, and pulled a gray cotton shirt over his frame. The scars on his chest were hefty- and painful to look at.
He walked, with the slight gaunt that he had- thanks to his artificial leg. Thanks to the exercise shorts he wore freely around the Silver Jedi temple, it was free for all to see. While prosthetic were common for the Mandalorians- most of whom, who's sole profession in the galaxy was war, or preparing, or providing for it in some capacity, for other groups of people, such as peaceful scholars and monks like the Jedi, it was an oddity at the very least.
Preliat answered the questions about it politely. What he didn't know, is that they were asking him when he walked around the temple because of what they felt from it. From him. The alchemized metal was touched by the dark side, and the leg was powered not only by rotors, motors and cybernetics- but by the dark side itself. It fed off of him, poisoning him, without his knowledge. It was a flaw that his wife had not foreseen. How could she have? Preliat and Aditya were not touched by the force, how were they to know what the force would do to him, much less the dark side?
Preliat walked to the window, opening the blinds to the fading light of the day. He turned his head as the door opened, and in stepped the Jedi Master. On habit, his eyes darted to the space near his bed. It's where he kept his Beskad. But he left that blade back on Mandalore, in the snow-covered ash of the Cold Iron City- where he put Jasper Ordo in the ground. Where he put the Rancor himself down. He remembered how hard that fight was- but Preliat did not think on the physicality. He thought on the weight of his actions, far too late. The guilt was tearing him apart, much more than the older wounds his soul had endured. His wife had been the one to sew shut the cuts of his past, planting a seed of hope. His daughter was to be the solidification of an idea of happiness and tranquility, and for a time, it was.
But like most happiness in his life, it was fleeting and temporary.
"Master Jedi. Thank you for coming. I have a....plethora of questions. Thank you for making the time to see me- I can't imagine the burden of running a temple."
He turned to face the Jedi Grandmaster, and as he learned- bowed as the Jedi did. He sat on the edge of his bed and invited her to sit on the couch, adjacent to the bed. He rubbed his hands together, looking over his shoulder to the pouring rain.
"I would start by asking about the Jedi as a whole- I wanted to know....why there are currently so many sects of Jedi, and what sets them apart from each other. I know much about the Silver Jedi from my time here, but I don't know much about the other sects in the galaxy. I would hope that you could enlighten me."