Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!
Past is another country,
The present will never last.
The future, it's still tomorrow,
Are we living too fast?
Search like the crowd, I'm fixed on your face,
I know it well, but it's a dream I can't place.
Something is happening to me,
Maybe it's happening to you.
Everybody everywhere, feel it in the air,
Oh yeah, it's time to take the pressure off.
Everybody everywhere, step out into the future,
It's time to take the pressure off.
Swimming with the rat race,
Or running against the tide,
It's everybody's business when there's nowhere to hide.
Search like the crowd, I'm fixed on your face,
I know it well, but it's a dream I can't place.
Something is happening to me,
Maybe it's happening to you?
Everybody everywhere, feel it in the air,
Oh yeah, it's time to take the pressure off.
Everybody everywhere, step out into the future,
It's time to take the pressure off.
Second Day of Isolation
Surrounded by lush fauna from the jungles of Voss that surrounded the Temple of the Silver Jedi Order, now Silver Sanctum and full of even more bodies jockeying for positions, the nature acting as a barrier from the rest of the planet beyond the boundaries, the Isolated Garden was an awesome sight, but also very haunting. A garden forged around ruins of the ancient temple that stood eons before the Silver Jedi came to form, old pillars, archways and tall statues of unidentified natives were intersected with vines, small naturally formed rivers and varied plants - some dangerous, some pleasant. It smelt damp, and part of the ground was soggy and moist underfoot but most was hard and dry.
For the last two mornings, Connor Harrison had stood under the large crumbling arch, at the lowest part of the garden to become something better than the Silver Jedi, better than the Sanctum and better than what he was before, he was training with his lightsaber to master the dexterity of making it an extension of his body, and then pushing his control of the Force in both destructive and peaceful power.
Acting without hesitation, he flowed around in a self-contained area lunging, blocking, jumping, crouching, tumbling, attacking - all against an invisible threat, but as if his life depended on it. With just his black vest, combat trousers and boots, his black hair matted to his forehead with sweat; arms tensed and glistened in the low light as he used his natural strength to navigate the area as if in battle. He wasn’t distracted by anything, and the heart beating inside his swelling chest with each breath drummed in his ears.
The blue blade hummed and flashed in a dizzying display, and Connor made sure to let the Force dictate where and when he moved, not fighting or questioning. To get himself beyond everything, he had to allow himself to accept the Force, and himself, for what it was – a tool to cut away the rotten flesh of the galaxy. Jedi and Sith alike if they presented an obstacle towards peace. What was peace to Connor? Simply people living together with nobody talking about where to invade or who to butcher next; but peace was never going to happen in his lifetime, however he was more than happy to be part of the greater solution with the gifts he had. And he knew he had gifts; he had seen it for years. Tapping into peoples’ minds, helping pull the gravity of a moon inwards on itself, defeating armies of the un-dead….not even the dead could stop Connor, and that made him almighty.
Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he looked up and saw the lights of the Temple in the distance, a good few minutes’ walk away and reflected on the last few days...weeks…months. He had isolated himself away from the Masters and their boring conversation, and he’d avoided Knights who acted deluded, and the Padawans? The more he heard about “protecting those they love”, “saving the Order” and “destroying the Sith”, the more he was getting fed up of people not thinking for themselves and instead thinking about ideals and codes that would never come to the surface. He wasn’t ready to be around them. Not yet.
Jumping down from a small pile of bricks, Connor ignited his blade again and positioned it behind his back, left arm stretched forward and waited. A few large birds flew overhead.
And waited.
Then moved - swinging his blade around and moving his body in a steady and swift motion to test his perception of the uneven terrain around him, letting the Force help his feet move up, over and across rubbles, fauna and puddles. With each foot that went down, his body was already turning to the next three steps that followed – fluid and fast and precise.
His leadership of the Shadows was fresh and he hadn't forgotten a step - he needed to get even quicker, stronger and become the warrior he was so close to being. He had to learn to know when to let the Force control him, but also when he, Connor Harrison, had to control the Force to become something people would fear and respect in equal measure for his larger intentions, not just what the colour of his blade or rank title indicated.
Connor wasn’t following a set manual for this self-exile from everyone, but rather using the environment around him to present challenges, puzzles and dangers he could better with the use of the Force and his perception of his surroundings. Once more he stood in his black gear, leaving his lightsaber by his side and this time focusing on reaction time and reflexes.
The warm sun was cooler by the time it reached the Isolated Gardens, with plenty of shade down away from the surface of the planet. Connor navigated a make-shift assault course across the ruins scattered around the area.
Two feet crunched down on the stone wall leading up to the mouth of a small river coming from the trees. He held his arms out, keeping his balance as he quickly walked forward at a slight incline. Connor jumped once he hit the end of the wall, turned and ran across the lip of the bank by the river, following it back to the main gardens. Without stopping he amplified a forward somersault with the Force onto a large archway, half buried in the earth; three steps helped cover the distance before jumping off the other side onto the adjoining bank.
Exhaling, Connor dropped forward onto his hands, landing gently on the soft ground below and beginning a series of push-ups.
One....two...three.... ...all the way... Forty-eight...forty-nine...fifty.
On the last push-up, following a circuit of about 5 laps of the ruins, he brought his knees up and squatted, standing in one fluid motion and turning to the large steps leading down from the bank. Stepping down each one, Connor reached the lower garden and brushed the hair from his brow, turning to pick up a series of large stones from the river and dropping them onto the floor beneath him. Walking a few steps away from the rocks, Connor worked out what he was going to do next and prepare himself. He counted a few numbers quietly as he stopped and turned a good 8 feet away from the stones.
Resting on his back leg, Connor outstretched his Force sense and lifted one of the stones with effortless telekinetic ability and held it at heads height. Not moving for a second, he let out a shot of breath and sent the stone rocketing towards him. He flinched and with a sickening thud the stone hit Connor in the shoulder, sending him stumbling back with a clenched groan, bending down to push away the sensation of broken bone.
Stepping around in a circle to ignore the pain, Connor turned back to the stones and raised another, narrowing his eyes and counting again. The stone shot forward to his head, but this time Connor stepped sideways, brought up his hand and slowed the stone, holding it in the air where he would have been stood, letting it gently come down to the ground. Nodding, he repeated the same exercise four times. He got hit once more, but stopped three.
Pain was something Connor had grown to find embracing and stimulating. The test with the rocks was to help attune his mind to react in a split second to move and stop the stone before it hit him, and to have the faith to do something painful to himself and also choose to stop it. It was all about having power of one’s mind, and the ability to not let his mind tell him one thing and not act on another – he was in control of everything.
After working on the stones, Connor would then lie atop the arch lengthways for 15 minutes of reflection and balance and strength to prevent him from falling backwards off the arch and ignore the tension in his muscles and let the Force enhance his focus. This would be repeated, with lightsaber training, for a good couple of hours.
Doing a series of pull-ups on the arch, his fingers sore and digging into the rock to support his strong arms as he pulled himself up and down a good few times, and then, naturally, started to think about the others. Not yet, not yet – don’t break momentum.
...eighteen...nineteen...twenty.
Thankful for hitting the final pull, cracked skin and damp with blood from the grip on stone, he dropped a good 6 feet to the ground and landed softly. Feeling a personal pride in what he was doing, he stretched the muscles in his upper body and rubbed his fingers together, turning to look up the path that snaked its way back to the Temple, and knew it was time to work on his lightsaber and shut himself away, before returning once more tomorrow. Working on the physical side of things, together with the combat, was important, but there was another side left untouched until now – the raw emotion he had bubbling away inside that was overdue in coming out, one way or another.
I know I don’t need to say this, but these tags are NOT a reflection OOC. It is all IC to allow me to explore Connor’s thoughts, and for you to understand his mind regarding any action he takes, as you’ve all played a part in shaping him (can’t do everyone sadly, got to keep it natural)
More pain, more gain. Now it was time to slow down for the night.
Sitting up straight and rubbing his hands together, the fire cracked gently, burning away in clear view of the crescent moon above the trees. It wasn’t a large fire, not to keep warm, but to keep Connor company. He enjoyed being alone, and it was something he was getting used to more and more. The orange flames licked upwards and painted his face, clothes and hands in a warm glow. Cross legged beside a stream and sat under a crumbling arch with the temple behind him in the distance, this was peace at last.
A few nocturnal birds could be heard calling above, and grubby insects chirped away in the undergrowth. A small bag of Voss-ka fruit, a carton of Blue Milk, his lightsaber and his thoughts were all Connor needed for these few hours at night to think and reflect, something he hadn’t been able to do peacefully for a long time. And my, did he have things to reflect on. Not just places like Rhen Var or Ord Mantell, Ziost or Salucamei, but people. People, who had molded him, shaped him and pushed him without even knowing. People he stood against and stood beside and stood for, and for what? To still be here, confused and alone. Well, not for long. The whole point being in the Isolated Gardens was to isolate himself from the material aspects of the Silver Jedi, Sanctum – whatever the hell it was – and allow himself the freedom he was always denying for the sake of pleasing others.
It had been months since he had done anything remotely interesting as a Jedi – a warrior – but, instead, had rattled of so much about training and learning and technique to others he was wasting away in his own head. He was better than this, and there was no point training dull-minded Padawans who would nod and smile at everything, moan about things that were hard, and then fall in battle. Let the others do that, those who had the time. Connor had already slipped up twice with taking on a Padawan and only just made some sort of amends, but he shouldn’t have had to. He knew he was all talk with his dramatic speeches and furrowed brows and clenched fists, but he had lost to the Sith more times than won. The likes of the snake [member="Sage Bane"] and the Imperial [member="Tmoxin Temi"] had left their mark. Maybe they had pushed the feeble, confused Jedi out of their mind, but Connor hadn't. Each one a solid reminder and irk against his pride.
A Jedi Master losing so often. How embarrassing. That was going to start changing too. For the good of the galaxy, HE would start changing.
He often thought about where his life would have been if a noble Jedi hadn’t found him on Rhen Var that day. Would he be with [member="Kyra Sol"] now on some daring smuggling mission and making a name for themselves across the stars? He smiled at the memory when things were simple, but oh, he did miss her. She was someone he liked to be around, and who felt needed around her; a protector, a big brother. She had vanished, however, as all good things did from his life. But even before he was a fully fledged Jedi, he was impressed by those he met in the Order like Master E'ron and [member="Sochi Ru"] who would shape his destiny even to this day with their sacrifices.
That was when the clouds formed. The clouds came in the shape of [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] and besotted [member="Coci Heavenshield"].
How sad it is to see them wrapped up in their dreamy world, failing to see things around them. I’m bored of their words and their actions. I know everyone else is – and the child is only where he is because of the name. This is a Temple run for them, and I should have taken over from Iella, not him. Good intention, perhaps, but he doesn’t have the strength or the reality to change things.
His boot kicked a bit of wood into the fire that had fallen out, scorching the dry ground with a crisp sizzle.
Go to Midwinter and stay there, it’s where you belong with her. Why. Why you? You had fire – now you’re a wife and mother. Why bother. We’ve lost what we had because you changed, and now you are safe behind him. We were so good at doing what we did Coci, you were my sister, but now? It’s a Skywalker legacy all over again for the Heavenshields and we are the ones unfortunate enough to have to see it daily. I despise her, but maybe [member="Aika Kawakami"] was somehow right in her words. And [member="Nima Tann"] – now there’s a broken record if ever I’ve seen one. She’s tortured by everything around here, and it’s their fault she’s not where she should be. I should have taken her life when I had the chance…hell, it would have eased her suffering because there’ s nothing I can do right for her. It’s not fair. At all.
He thought too about those he had served with over years; the sweet [member="Maya Whitelight"] and [member="Serena Bouie"] whom he always had time for. Brave [member="Dagos Terrek"] who actually was one Padawan he saw real potential in. Even those not of the Silvers like [member="Kian Karr"], [member="Kana Truden"] and [member="Seraphina Shel'tah"] were all Jedi he had wanted to bond with, but never got the chance before politics and talking took over – and resulted in life changing outcomes.
Exhaling, the Jedi shook his head, rolling his tongue around teeth and pushing out his negativity before starting to work on his lightsaber. A number of small tools and crystals were laid out before him from various expeditions over the years from Hoth to Panatha and Tatooine, and from fellow Jedi who had given him one in passing as a thank you, or a reward. Tonight he would dismantle his weapon like a Ranger would dismantle a rifle; clean it, care for it, service it, and try a new crystal or two for variety.
The merger of the Levantine Sanctum and Silver Jedi seeped into his mind.
And who are you? [member="Valiens Nantaris"]? [member="Coren Starchaser"]? [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]? Well, thanks for doing nothing and bringing us down to your level. You’ve made things worse and given them even less of a path to follow – I’ve seen Knights and Padawans, they don’t know where to stand or how to act with these new faces.
Moments passed, and Connor pulled his knees up and leant over closer to the fire to inspect the workings of the saber, making sure there was no dust, grit or stone inside that would cause the weapon to become useless or explode in his hand. Looking at the saber, the weapon that was his life, a small smile formed for [member="Corvus Raaf"] a woman who was never totally out of his thoughts.
Corvy. You seem to be taking the right steps forward but I don’t know if it’s forced upon you or not. You could be so much more. WE could. I’ve loved you from the time you came to me on Voss and I’ve tried to ignore it, tried to answer it – guess it’s not meant to be, but your stubborn and blind view isn’t going win anyone over, but you had the chance to be loved and understood – I would have! I will!
”One day we will have something. One day…” he sighed aloud and shifted, working off the stabilizing ring to clean inside the shroud.
Popping some fruit in his mouth, where Corvus was concerned there was always another standing in her shadow looking over Connor – her sister, [member="Taeli Raaf"].
I was so…close….to serving you. I would have done anything you asked of me. Been anything. We could have changed so much together, and then a conscious and your family got the better of you and boom – you’re the carbon copy of your sister... he fixed the ring back and moved to the crystal chamber, …but it doesn’t suit. You push and push and you meddle and think you know everything but you know nothing except what drives you. Power and strength – Arcanix and Taeli can be one. I would have left this place to serve under you…you are so frustrating….but something keeps me attracted and it shouldn’t but what the hell do I care. You know me better than most.
Then a voice, a face, a laugh crept into his head and it made Connor stop and put down his deconstructed saber and hold his face in his hands. Fingers pulled down his cheeks gently, as one would do when worn out, and he looked into the dancing flames as [member="Chastity Lunelle"] was in his mind’s eye. His Padawan – former. His lover – former. His failure - current.
”I knew. I knew it. I told you,” he whispered through his fingers.
He just stared ahead for seconds, his eyes glazing over.
I shouldn’t have fallen for you. You should have listened. Stayed away. Never touched me, kissed me. You should have stayed away.
His hand rose up to brush back his hair and he welled up with tears at the thought of how he had tried to invest his heart into good, only for it to be slowly broken. Chastity was in self-exile in the bowels of the Temple, no longer sharing his quarters and working to try and break the chains holding her down from the corruption of the Dark Side. She had shown her weakness, and she had failed herself and failed Connor as both a lover and a Master.
With palms starting to go clammy from the swelling emotion of anger and frustration inside him, Connor span back to the crystal chamber in his hilt and began see which of the crystals would be chosen to try first tonight. But, he remembered there was nobody here, nobody to lecture him or talk him down. This was what isolation was for.
”You will learn your mistake one day Chastity, and it will be too late for anyone by that point. I am not a babysitter to those broken souls, and I am not here to clean up the faults of the Order!”
He focused on assembling the components in the crystal energy chamber, careful not to break anything or dirty the energy gate. As he worked, his thoughts turned into words that came from his mouth. The bane of his pain, [member="Matsu Xiangu"], had covertly drip fed the fuel to what made Connor breathe a little faster and muscles tense a little more; power and control.
”Maybe she was right all along – maybe I am inhuman. Eager to taste the power I have inside me, a canvas of failings leading to a point where I make choices and I am the one handing out the pain for once. [member="Keira Ticon"] knows. She understands, don’t you. Of course you do – Connor is the one who can change things. Forever.”
The crystal was in place and he worked with the small tools to fix back his hilt, tight and secure to the point where it fit perfectly in his palm again. His eyes fell to the hilt however, wondering if [member="Syala Daivik"] would understand. She always understood – didn’t she? She was the future of the Silver Jedi – she was the one he would protect from anything and anyone. Their bond had gone beyond Master and Apprentice; it was now a bond by the Force, and through the pain, they would always remain as one. Wherever their paths would take them.
Slowly, Connor moved his eyes again from that dreamy gaze to focus on his hilt, and held it up againg the stars in the night sky as he activated the blade with a sharp snap-hiss.
The saber hummed gently, in clear view of the crescent moon above the trees. The orange flames licked upwards and mixed with the new crimson blade that painted the man’s face, clothes and hands in a warm glow. He sat cross legged beside a stream under a crumbling arch with the temple behind him in the distance.
”A blade of blood to strike down those who are but poison.”
He killed the blade and kept both crystals – blue and red – to symbolize his standing and his intent to finally control Light and Dark for the good of the galaxy. He would use his knowledge and power of the Force to show others that the Jedi were not the Jedi of eons agao - they were not carpets to walk over and naïve fools to be deceived. Emotions were just as much a weapon in this war as any weapon, and if one embraced that idea, then one could change the battlefield.
This was still time to think, to focus and think how to equip hi his body and mind away from prying eyes. They didn’t need to know as yet who he was.
He was the loner; the outsider; the one to be what other's didn't have the courage to be.
He was Connor Harrison, a Dark Jedi Master of the Force.
The fire burned gently beside him, and Connor lay back on a stone slab looking up through the trees dressed in black above. The night was here, the shadows had coated a majority of the planet, and the gardens were teased with the orange flicker of the fire.
Connor was fully mesmerised by the blood moon above however, a perfect view between the large trees that parted offering a glimpse into the heavens. It had one moon, and right now it was in the middle of a lunar eclipse – the moon passing directly behind Voss into its shadow and the sun is aligned perfectly with Voss in the middle for one of those rare sights that wowed the right people looking at the right time.
Life at its finest. Nature working without restraint.
Since his admission to embracing both Light and Dark nearly 2 weeks ago Connor had come up against very little in the way of confrontation. He’d served in a successful repelling of Undead forces on Midvinter and rescued Taeli Raaf from pirates on Illum. He’d not asked for anything, nor expected anything, but this seemed too easy.
Maybe nobody cared anymore. Maybe they’d given up on him years ago and simply were now watching the “theatrical” and “dramatic” Connor Harrison ride out his deluded path to self-destruction. The others were busy living and loving, raising children, learning new abilities and carrying out council meetings that he knew would be nothing but wasted time.
He hadn’t seen Corvy in ages since Mustafar or been in contact with her. Nor had he seen much of Syala. Even Serena or Nima had been quiet. Was he really pushing people away, or were they all living and flowering while he was wilting in the shadows?
The orb above had a majestic red glow, staying true to the term “blood moon”. It was magnificent, and would stay like that for a while into the early hours until it would pass, return to normal and soon be forgotten.
Much like Connor, the blood moon would be impressive to those who saw it, but then the transformation would fade and then would just be something people saw and took for granted each night after that.
He sighed, resting his hands on his arms. Tomorrow he would leave for Jakku for a day or two to take some time out for himself and scale the Star Destroyer buried there. He had plenty to think on.
Connor strode through the bowels of the Silver Sanctum Temple on Voss and though the rear doors to get outside, sucking in air to stop him from hyperventilating before he reached the Isolated Garden to the South. He had bags under his eyes and ignored those who turned to look at him, or to say hello to him. They saw he wasn't right.
He stormed down the old stone steps, walking away from the place he called home, and walked away from [member="Corvus Raaf"]. Tearing off his cowl, leaving it hanging, he was already crying through heartbreak but fighting hard to contain it with no success. Before he got to the stream, his legs just gave up out of exhaustion and he knelt in the mud, collapsing forward to stop himself with his hands.
She had found love with another - a goddess, a dark being not of this galaxy - but it was enough for her to not give Connor the chance he longed for.
Fingers curled into the muddy grass and he leant back and pushed them into his eyes to try and stop the crying. He let out a moan of anguish, of loss and helplessness. With a gasp he looked down through stinging eyes at his utility belt and fumbled for crimson crystal for his lightsaber, something he wanted to use as a sign of his embrace for Light and Dark.
He threw it forward into the trees with a shout. It vanished and would hopefully be buried along with his delusions. He was weak to be this "sword of the Force". He had lost any chance of proving to Corvus he was worthy to show her the world, and he was losing the respect of his fellow Jedi. No wonder his Padawans were failing. He had already failed them before they had started.
Connor was breathing out of control, gasping and shaking with adrenaline. He pulled his lightsaber down from his side and leant his head back, before bringing the emitter up to his neck and holding his hand tight on the hilt. It was cool on this skin, but with one flick of his thumb the blue blade would end his life in a heartbeat. Extinguish a life as fast as it took to break his heart.
Eyes flickered with tears and he swallowed, looking up at the night sky.
”Find peace...”
It went quiet as he prepared to activate the blade. Fingers trembled. They'd miss him, but they'd get over it. He had nothing; was nothing to her. That thought broke him, and he pulled the hilt away and turned, throwing it against the stone arch behind him with force. The saber struck and knocked loose debris and fell useless to the floor.
Connor sat back and brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he sobbed, alone, in the Isolated Garden.
