Private Purpose in Peace

[Maynard Treicolt]

[ Theme ]​

"What...what's so special about it, Master?" Maynard piped up. The young padawan draped in his greyish brown robes as he peered back to the hooded Kel'dor figure looming over him. The Kel'dor stood silently for a moment, offering a low breath from his respirator, unlacing the alien digits that remained rested over his own lower abdomen before kneeling low, peering toward the gargantuan, ancient tree from his padawan's perspective. At the base of the moss-laden Kashyyk tree the trunk burrowed into the mouth of a cave of a seemingly never-ending void of darkness.

"This place...it is strong in the force...the dark side..." The Kel'dor said, shifting his eyes to meet the gaze of his pupil. "Within you will find only what you bring with you and nothing more..." He iterates, his voice traveling with a earthy, low tone to each word as it rings out muffled from his respirator.

"I...I'm scared...I- I don't want to go in..." Maynard said, his otherwise wide-eyed and curious gaze dulling into deep pits of dread and a deeply engrained fear immediately following the mention of the 'dark side'.

"I understand, young padawan...I understand. It is a place of great power, dark power...however it is a challenge I know well you can overcome." The Jedi master said, lifting himself back up to his feet.

"Whenever you are ready..." The jedi sounded out once more. Patiently awaiting for the Padawan to begin his trial...

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With heavy breathing and a cold sheen of sweat coating his brow Maynard awakens. His upper body jolting upwards as he breathes heavily, peering about a familiar setting. Tucked within the tight confines of his quarters aboard the HWK-290 Light Freighter he'd called home for the past decade. Pressing his fingers across his temples he lets off a low groan, turning in his bed and slowly lifting himself to his feet. Fully clothed within the expected garb of a spacer of his station he makes his way through the clutter of the tight cabin into the bridge of the freighter, greeted immediately by his astromech which beeps in excited affirmation to Maynard's approach as he sits himself into the captain's chair and mans the sticks.

"I hear you, I hear you...just didn't sleep too well..." He says, pale hazel eyes peering past the canopy to view the end point of his jump.

Peace. The station was a peculiar enough spectacle in itself merely to behold. Despite being the outrider spacer he was the work of the Zeffo was a foreign sight to the eye of the pilot. His usually narrow and focused gaze at the sticks all but widening as he comprehended the sheer scale of the super structure. His astromech let off a series of awe-struck beeps in-line with the visible reaction of its master.

"Yeah...yeah it's somethin' huh..." To no fanfare from station personnel the Renegade was simply...let through all but guided into a hangar bay to accommodate it. It seemed ethereal ; unreal and yet soon enough his boots hit the hard surface of the artificial moon. Electing to keep his astromech aboard his vessel began to roam Peace. A jedi...once but now he roamed with no lightsaber at his side flanked by all but a shadow of a connection to the force. Yet still, he received the call...and justly answered.

Breathing in a pure atmosphere he roamed seemingly aimless. On walks like these it wasn't rare for him to be more partial to a cigarra but here even he knew well it would be...out of place. Not that Maynard did himself any favors in this regardless, dressed more in preparation to smuggle spice through a Confederate blockade than he was to re immerse himself in the ways of the Jedi. None of them seemed to judge however ; the sheer atmosphere of Peace established just that. A calmness among the esoteric architecture of everything around them.

Among the first gathering of jedi he spotted was a group of six or seven perhaps gathered around a schism that burrowed through to the Zeffo engineering below. Around it several jedi planted fresh earth to conceal it and blend it more with the environment surrounding it all. Each donning their characteristic robes it was difficult to discern them each from one another from the neck down save for minute alterations in the colors of fabrics between the personal tastes of each of them. Among them, though a higher station than many aboard the station, Wyatt Morga toiled away all the same ; finding peace in the simple work just as his pupils did.

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[Wyatt Morga]

“... and eventually, I think we may be able to grow some crops.”, Wyatt said as he packed down what dirt was being moved.​

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“What kind?”, one of the padawans around him asked suddenly. Wyatt shrugged as he stood, wiping the soil from his hands. His sleeves were rolled up, and unlike the others he lacked the large overcoat that gave some warmth - much preferring the more flexible clothes of a spacer.​

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“Something resilient, I imagine.”, he chuckled, “But the Lightside may yet help us grow things - the station exudes it. Now, get back to works - It seems I have a guest.”​

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Wyatt stole a glance to Maynard, patting another of the Jedi on the shoulder as he passed by. The group went to work on their various tasks, from moving dirt, to the more delicate efforts of fixing ancient technology - but Wyatt had other concerns. The Jedi Master pulled a rag from his back pocket, and wiped away what muck had formed on his palms - and while he couldn’t get rid of the small dirt under his fingernails, he couldn’t help but smile and offer a shake to the Jedi who came to Peace.​

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“I don’t recognize you. You must be new to the station!”, he laughed as he pulled his hand back.​

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“Many are these days. The Force has been guiding more to our Praxeum everyday - Oh, where are my manners, my name is Wyatt Morga; I’m the Jedi Master filling in for a ‘Grand Master’ right now.”, Wyatt offered with a smile.​

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Maynard Treicolt​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

The wayward spacer offered Wyatt a tentative smile as he shook his hand firmly, offering a single nod in reply before setting his hand at the side of his grey spacer's jacket once more.

"You'd be right...name's Maynard Treicolt." A name Wyatt and no likely no living soul within the ecosystem of Peace had ever heard of. Perhaps it was better that way for now given the peculiar circumstance he situated himself in.

He'd just kicked in the door of his thirties but holds the force and lightsaber expertise of a padawan banging on the door of knighthood. Even then ; all of that was locked behind shattered memories and harsh schisms between Maynard and his innate connection to the force.

At the very least ; there wasn't a shred of palpable darkness in him. Though he'd strayed from the virtues of the light-side into the murky grey he wasn't a man of reprehensible spirit. Merely thrown from the path left to survive in the Galaxy.

"Master...Morga..." The name felt instantly familiar, it didn't take long for him to fit the pieces together once more.

"You sent the call, yes? A pleasure...it's been a long while since I've been...a jedi, really." He admits almost solemnly.

Wyatt Morga

 

[Wyatt Morga]

“You’re always a Jedi, Maynard.”, Wyatt reassured.​

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“Come, walk with me.”​

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Wyatt motioned for Maynard to follow as he set himself on a path through the quarters - still being renovated by a plethora of Padawans, Knights, and Masters; and most lacked the iconic robes of the Jedi Order. More realistically, it looked more like a wide set of refugees cleaning up a new home - spacers, mercenaries, traders, and more. Even Wyatt himself looked more smuggler than Jedi at the moment.​

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Were it not for the Lightsaber hanging from their belts, it’d be nigh impossible to tell they were Jedi.​

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“All these people came here to see the Order restored. Most haven’t ‘practiced’ being a Jedi in years - and there isn’t shame in that. For most, it was there only choice…”, Wyatt offered as he glanced to a woman teaching what was obviously her children something about the Force.​

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“Families came first for some. They had to hide that from the prying eyes of the First Order and Sith - but they’ve found their way here, to safety.”, Wyatt mused with a smile.​

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“To Peace. As have you.”​

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Maynard Treicolt​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

A second glance reaffirmed Wyatt's comment. Really - Maynard wasn't all too out of place at all. He never drew the attention of anyone else because he didn't warrant any reason to. He looked just as well like he was here the entire time like any of the rest of them. So far, Peace had fit the name well enough, at least for the wayward spacer though seemingly for all the others who roamed here as well.

Treicolt followed the Jedi Master in tow, as wide eyed as he was when he truly was a padawan of the Jedi, though since those days he hadn't really come too far only to come back around again only several years wiser and seasoned. The aura of the place was a special one. Everything about it spelled inner peace and wisdom ; starving the ego and feeding the soul.

"A good many have, huh..." Maynard said ; the mention of the Sith sounding the alarm within him as his words escaped. It was only a consideration in the back of his mind as he peered shifted his gaze about. The Sith...if they found this place they'd pound it to dust. It had no defenses, a metric ton of jedi, but no defenses otherwise.

"The Sith, First Order and them...do you about 'em? I...I this place is...it seems vulnerable, if I could find it then...why can't the Sith?" Maynard asked with palpable concern laden in his tone and cadence.

Wyatt Morga

 

[Wyatt Morga]

“The answer isn’t a simple one, Maynard.”, Wyatt offered with a frown.​

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“I only sent a call to the Jedi of the galaxy - only those of light souls would have heard it; but that doesn’t mean the Sith aren’t already aware of the reunification effort. They’ve spies everywhere, and the Core is no exception.”, he sighed.​

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He moved through another hallway, finding a place to sit down. On the table, papers, holopads, and a variety of artifacts still sat - obviously Wyatt’s makeshift office at the moment. The Jedi Master motioned for Maynard to sit, finding himself a seat across the pilot. With a carefully steady hand, Wyatt brought two cups of hot water from the corner, and began to steep a fragrant tea.​

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As he did, he spoke again;​

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“The station may not look it, but it does have a series of Zeffo defenses - and the Gatekeeper assures me it will protect the Jedi on the station. The nebula clouds surrounding the station also help - but if worse comes to worse…”, Wyatt said with a reassuring smile.​

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He snapped his fingers.​

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“... We poof. Simple as that.”​

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Maynard Treicolt​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

Maynard wasn't one to refuse a chance to rest his feet, sitting down in the seat across from the Jedi Master as his eyes casually gleaned the contents of the desk ; finding little coherency in the organized chaos he shifted his eyes back to Morga.

"I'm sure the Sith aren't too far behind ; and that's no indictment on you or anyone else but...the Empire as big as it is ; tough folk to avoid." The wayward spacer remarks candidly. Already he'd sported himself as a man of stalwart candidness and honesty.

To Wyatt's last claim the pilot leaned his head back with widened eyes for a moment before nodding once.

"It...'poofs' ? I can only assume that means it just kinda...moves and not as slowly as I might've thought." Maynard says but alas even he could acknowledge that he'd sidetracked.

"Apologies ; I just...I worry about these things...had some bad run-ins in the past. Regardless - I gotta figure all of this out again. I...I was well on my way to being a knight of the Jedi before I...well- things took a turn for the worst to say the least." Maynard admits ; his voice dyed with a few shades of solemness as he speaks.

Wyatt Morga

 

[Wyatt Morga]

“The Sith are a threat, I won’t deny that.”, Wyatt offered in response, but quickly moved his tone to reassurance;​

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“But the Jedi are growing in strength everyday, Maynard. Believe in the Force, and believe in the Order; and we may yet have a chance.”​

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With that, Wyatt took to his own tea, wrapping his hands around it to enjoy the warmth it provided. The station wasn’t outright cold, but it certainly wasn’t as warm as it could have been. The engineers, slicers, and mechanics of the station were still working on bringing Life Support fully online - and it showed, at least in the bones.​

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“We’ve a history. If you were a padawan before, you are a padawan still - and we can help return you to that skill you once had.”, Wyatt offered with warm words.​

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“Even if you feel you’ve forgotten, your body will remember. Please, Maynard, do not fret -”​

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“You’re safe here. As all Jedi are.”​

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Maynard Treicolt​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

Maybe the pilot was just getting ahead of himself. Sitting in a place with his mind at ease his thoughts instantly snapped to what might ruin it all for him. Within a few moments he breathed calming breathes. Inspite of his barely tethered connection to the force, the light side ever present on Peace sought to cloud around him.

The Master's words were deeply reassuring ; all but mirroring the speech of his own ; long passed master. Even if the vessel spoke with a differed cadence and clearer tone than the wise Kel'Dor that tutored Maynard in his youth.

"I appreciate it, Master, I do... been a long while since I've felt safe at all among Jedi though I'm sure you can empathize..." The wayward spacer remarks, offering a nod of his head as he mulled over his next words carefully.

"I do want to pursue this path once more, Master Morga. I am intent on it." He said, more so saying the words to himself than the man before him, as if etching his conviction in stone ; unable to be erased. The path of the Jedi was not one that played into the inherit vices of mortal sentients. It fed the soul more than it did anything else. As deeply fulfilling as that could be it was not so easily comprehended nor registered by the many who were shrouded in blindness by the nature of the Jedi.

Wyatt Morga

 

[Wyatt Morga]

“Then we can do that.”, Wyatt reassured as he slid a holopad and a Jedi Compass to Maynard.​

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“I believe a padawan named Aaran Tafo will be running a training lesson for youngling soon - would you mind going to it?”, he asked with a cocked brow.​

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“I understand it might be a bit underneath where you were - but it could very well be a strong start to getting back on the path of the Jedi, and learning what you lost.”​

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Maynard Treicolt​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

"I can't make any promises but I don't have many excuses either...aside from well, lack of a lightsaber." Maynard remarks. He needed to take up the regimin he maintained in his youth ; of learning the mysteries and powers of the force. There was untapped potential that surged within him but there were many pieces which needed to be put back together firstly still.

"Regardless I don't have much footing to stand on as far as my training goes - at least not anymore." He admits with shades of forlorn dyed in his words. Just days ago he had a niche carved in his life. But it was a life far less fulfilling than the path of the Jedi, even if it required far less discipline and education.

Taking up the Jedi compass he seemed to be well familiar with its utility but felt compelled to sat his curiousity regardless.

"I assume this'll lead me back if this place ends up going 'poof'?" Maynard asked, arching a brow to the Jedi master as he pocketed the device in his jacket.

Wyatt Morga

 

[Wyatt Morga]

Wyatt winked, “You’ve a good eye, Maynard.”​

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The Jedi Master laughed as he slid himself up from the table. With a motion of his head, Wyatt forced Maynard to follow down a nearby hallway only recently cleaned - evident by its sudden lack of dust, and a Jedi still in a side alcove working on decorating a bust of Obi-Wan Kenobi; a beautiful bust at that.​

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“I’ve a gift for you…”, he idled as he walked into a side room, the door sliding out of his way with an automatic response. Inside was a small, humble abode - with a surprising order to it all. Nothing seemed out of place, perfectly cleaned and in order as Wyatt walked through it. On the far wall, he pressed his hand to nothing, and a compartment unfolded out for him.​

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He lifted a small handle from it, simple as it was. Wyatt moved back to Maynard, resting it in his hand, and holding on for a moment as he spoke;​

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“This was my second lightsaber. It means… alot to me, but I want you to have it. It deserves that much, Maynard.”, he smiled.​

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“Blue looks your color anyway.”​

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Maynard Treicolt​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

The sculpture of Obi-Wan had caught Maynard's attention almost as soon as they'd entered the office. When treading the path of the Jedi there was few others more deserving of emulation than Kenobi. He represented exactly what every Jedi should aspire to be ; an imperfect man but one still deeply devoted to the light side of the force. Holding deep conflict with his emotiones time and time again he remained wholly stalwart in the face of strife. One of the few figures that Maynard might ever be able to recognize from the Jedi history of old ; his laid-to-rest master holding him in high regard.

When Wyatt returned from the side-room of his office another perk of Maynard's brow struck as he peered toward the Master, focusing his hazel gaze on the object in his hand before soon enough his innate curiousity was awash with wide-eyed wonder and disbelief.

"I...I don't know if I can accept this, master..." He admitted, taking the hilt into his hand reluctantly though clutching the metallic grip strongly as he took it into his hands.

"I can't put into words how grateful I am...of this, I..." Maynard said - interupting himself as he fished for the ignition switch before soon enough a pole of cobalt shot free from the hilt ; emitting its characteristic pppsshht before humming lowly between the two.

Shedding a cold blue light on them both hairs rose up on the back of the wayward spacer's neck as he clutched the civilized weapon again in years. Though a stark difference between the emerald green he wielded in his youth ; blue would work just well enough. Still though, this saber was not his and he would need to answer the call of a crystal again in due time. But no jedi is seperated from his lightsaber. As soon as the blade ignited in his hands ; that may very well had been his unofficial welcome back into the order.

Ssshhhht. The blade retracted into the hilt once more before the hilt clipped to Maynard's belt. It didn't feel...just for him to be wielding the blade of a Master of Morga's status ; knowing it'd be a long while before he reached a remotely par expertise with the blade in comparison to the man before him.

"Thank you. I hope to return it to soon enough if I'm honest ; I'm sure there's a shard of kyber with my name on it waiting for me. Regardless, thank you again." Maynard said, his words all but fumbling out of his mouth as he articulated his gratefulness. Even though he was a jedi like any other his faltering from the path made him feel humbled ; unworthy.

Wyatt Morga

 

[Wyatt Morga]

“I’ll be waiting for the day you return it, Maynard.”, Wyatt laughed, slapping a hand on the Jedi’s shoulder.​

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“It’ll be the day I know you’re ready for Knighthood.”​

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With a wink, Wyatt let go and took a few steps past him before finishing;​

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“I’ve foreseen it.”​

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Without another word, Wyatt walked back through the hallway, Maynard in tow. There was training to be done, to give Maynard the confidence he deserved - that which he needed to become the Jedi Wyatt knew him to be; to cast aside that doubt, that insecurity he held deep inside him. There would be time enough to help Maynard, but for now -​

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He just had to take things slow.​

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Sitting back at the table before, Wyatt scruffed through a few papers before finding one with a harsh chicken scratch. Wyatt squinted as he read it, and then smiled as he handed it to Maynard -​

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“Hard to read, but I’ve got a fresh room for you. 3587A, comes with its own hanger and all - just for you Maynard.”​

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Maynard Treicolt​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

"Well if it's when I'm knighted then I guess I won't be worrying about it for awhile..." Maynard offered with a faint laugh to himself. Words he felt he needed to say, not to Morga but for himself. He had to put into perspective that he had a great deal to learn despite ; inspite of his age he might as well have been a youngling all over again.

"Three five eight seven, gotcha. I'll have the Renegade moved over there when I get a chance...though that makes me curious erm...my master he told me in the old days, back when Jedi like ol' Obi-Wan roamed about that each Jedi had a starfighter for themselves. I can't imagine that's a thing is it?" Maynard just had to ask, if he was going to be useful and quick he had to get behind the sticks of a starfighter. As of now, even the most novice Sith Acolyte might be able to cut him right in two save his long abandoned knowledge of the saber suddenly reawakening within him. But he couldn't bank on that.

"If not...might not be bad idea once we got our feet under ourselves. You see I've been more of a pilot than anything else since I stopped being a jedi." Maynard admitted candidly.

Wyatt Morga

 

[Wyatt Morga]

“Hmmm…”, was all Wyatt offered as he considered.​

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He still wanted to give the Jedi each a training droid, but a starfight for them would make sense as well - but money was the ever pressing concern for the Jedi Master. It wasn’t as though they had set up bank accounts with the IGBC that read ‘The Jedi Order’, and he couldn’t sign any digital checks with ‘Wyatt Morga’. All problems he would have to face sooner than later, he imagined.​

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“I still need to speak to some of the government's nearby, and hope for some sort of charitable donations - but I can’t say its a bad idea, Maynard.”, he offered with a smile.​

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“I’ll look into it, see if we can get the Jedi their own ships - it would certainly help our response time to Sith incursions and issues within the Space we defend.”​

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Maynard Treicolt​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

"If they care about keeping the core safe at all - fighting the Sith, then they'll listen but...I'm no authority on any of that." Maynard suggested. If he exploited any one jedi trait it seemed to be humility at the very least if he showed nothing else upon their first interaction.

"Think it would be well worth it ; train up all the Jedi to fly, keep em safe incase they're pursued in unfriendly space. Give them all something...fast, maneuverable and all that...but it needs guns. Something like those ol' Incom fighters that the Alliance flew around would do the trick..." Excitable if only about one thing - starships.

"Regardless...I appreciate you hearing me out on that. I think I might have everything I need for the moment..." He remarks, glancing down to the lightsaber hilt dangling from his belt. It still felt...off, after all this time to be wielding the weapon of the Jedi once more.

Reaching out an arm he offered his hand to Wyatt in graditude.

"Good to be back, thank you..." Maynard said, offering a single nod and faint smile. His path was centered again. Even if he grew forlorn within the path of the Jedi years ago ; he had returned. For better or worse had a purpose again.

Wyatt Morga

 

[Wyatt Morga]

“Thank you for coming back, Maynard.”, Wyatt offered with a return of the handshake, and signed with a smile.​

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“Check out your room, and I’ll see what can be done about the star fighters. Make sure to speak to some of the others - see what you can do with some of the other Padawans.”, he offered before letting go.​

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With that, he let Maynard go, and idled over to tidy his room once more. Cleanly space allowed peace of mind - if only slightly, but the arrival of another Jedi filled Wyatt with hope. The Order was coming together - more appeared by the day, and it only bode well.​

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The Jedi were more Unified than ever.​

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Maynard Treicolt​