Mino
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RYAN ZERONUS MINO
BASIC INFORMATION
Name: Ryan Zeronus Mino (Pronounced: R-I-An Zeh-Ron-Us Mean-Oh)Chosen Name: Mino
Alias: Mop Boy
Age: Nineteen
Species: Human
Home Planet: Agamar
Alignment: The Jedi Order
Saber Form: Djem So
PERSONALITY PROFILE
Mino is a man of great pride and passion – two traits which do not fit with his chosen alignment of a Jedi. At only Nineteen, Mino is able to portray the leading qualities of a much older man; this is evident in the ease at which he commands Initiates and Padawans. However, being as proud and as arrogant as he is; his determined outer shell can easily be cracked by someone who proves he is still only a student of the Order – be that via a physical beating; outwitting him or just identifying his mistakes.Despite what some people may think; Mino is not unintelligent. He is very quick to learn people and understand their motives in life along with being very quick at identifying ways to get around them. This technique he employs rather regularly in order to bypass rules imposed by senior Jedi. Mino can easily learn the details to any matter which intrigues him; unfortunately the Jedi Ethics, Jedi Codes and various other Jedi related matters which do not include combat; do not interest him.
For a young man; Mino carries a lot of anger and prejudice. Although this rarely shows, other than through the odd passing comment, Mino has been known to lash out in anger should someone belittle him in some way. Another negative trait which goes hand in hand with his anger is an inability to apologise; Mino prefers to talk non-stop until he has justified his actions rather than admit that he was wrong.
Finally, Mino is a man of intense loyalty. He believes very strongly in the view that a Jedi’s life, meaning his life, is a sacrifice and so will willingly allow himself to suffer any injury on behalf of his fellows. It is for this reason that he dislikes meeting new people as, in his mind, they become new people to defend. However; should a person distinguish themselves in his eyes as either a strong willed person or a capable combatant, he will instantly be drawn to them as someone he does not feel he needs to take responsibility for. It is this loyalty which keeps Mino desperately clutching to the Jedi rather than allowing his other varied short fallings to thrust him out towards the path of the Dark Side.
PHYSICAL PROFILE
He stands at 5 ft 8” and has a broad, muscular physique. Every inch of his body has been cultivated, crafted and sculpted into undeniable excellence of the male form. The quantity of muscle surrounding his torso is far greater than you would suspect from your average young Jedi but yet, beneath a shirt, he carries it with such ease, such disdain and such subtlety as to still be underestimated as a threat. Shirtless, however, it is impossible to deny the sheer power which he possessed in his arm, in his shoulder or any other muscle in his body. His heavily defined collar-bone attracts the eye of many, if not all nearby females.
His hair is short and messy and a darkened blonde in colour. It usually appears windswept as he regularly runs his hand through it when either in a state of cocky arrogance or in an attempt to appear cocky and arrogant when he is actually nervous. His eyes are narrow and very dark blue, almost black, in colour. They are very precise eyes; able to spot the slightest of movements over large distances. His face bares the rugged, obvious signs of combat damage; his nose clearly broken on several separate occasions along with a feint scar over his right eyebrow. Out of sheer laziness, and the idea that it could cut any fist thrown to his face, Mino has grown a thin layer of stubble which adorns his jaw.
Mino’s attire is relatively cliché for a Jedi – the layered tunic, folding over itself first, from left to right, and then crossed over with two sashes over each shoulder and down across his torso, held in place by his belt, whilst also dropping vertically down his back – save for one difference: it is of a desaturated green colour. This Jedi attire is then covered in the typical Jedi Robe, this is of a black as dark as that of empty space to absorb all light into it and captivate all those that look upon it. Unlike most, he never wears a hood, and has taken this to the further extreme as his robe does not have a hood for him to wear.
Both his belt and his boots are made of the leather from a Zakkeg, the deepest black leather, with a black fabric band over that. His comlink is clipped on the right hand side at the front, with a small pouch for credits or other items on the left.
Equipment
Primary Weapon - MopAs Mino still fulfills the rank of only a student within the Jedi Order, he is yet to construct himself a lightsaber hilt. Instead, Mino has selected one of the sturdier, more robust items of cleaning equipment which still allows him to wield if sufficiently. The mop is constructed of a simple wooden shaft, approximately 1.3 meters in length. As one would expect, the head of the mop is adorned in many layers of fabric which, without being used for its intended purpose, have turned almost black in colour. The young Jedi has done no form of modification on this make-shift weapon, choosing to accept the Jedi's view that he is not yet entitled to a true weapon.
Secondary Weapon - None
Vehicle - None
HISTORY
“Some viewers may find the following images disturbing.”It would be a fair generalisation to say that the story of a Jedi starts in one of three ways. Option one; a Jedi is born into a Jedi family and immediately handed over to The Order. This child – another generalisation – would quickly be put in their place; they would learn discipline and they would learn the basics of Jedi Ethics which would mould them into a very polite, very subservient young child. Option two; a Jedi is born into an average family, discovered to be force sensitive and then brought to the Jedi Order. This child would, it could be said, become very impatient. These are children who are, potentially, much older at the age of selection and able to witness a Jedi Knight or even Jedi Master at full strength before they even begin their training. Furthermore, this child could possibly have developed a natural combination of Force Powers on their own which could drive them into feeling 'superior' to the students around them who had to be taught. This is a child who sees 'it' and wants 'it' now. Option three is considerably more diverse as it involves being thrust into the Galaxy of Force Sensitivity and conflict before the child has time to develop any form of a mentor. This child would have lost their family due to any number of reasons – wealth, death, kidnap, etcetera – and been rapidly devoured by the severe challenges of 'real life' influencing the rapid development of their affinity to The Force in order to survive. These children may be unfortunate enough to be located by The Sith and drafted into their servitude as a Sith Acolyte or else they may be fortunate enough to discovered by The Jedi and welcomed into the Jedi Order with open arms.
However, statistically speaking, a large number of these children end up being swallowed up in the tragedies of real life.
Ryan Zeronus Mino, although he does fall into this third category, somehow managed to slip unseen through the murky world of unsavoury people whilst inadvertently avoiding the searching eye and rescuing hand of The Jedi Order.
The man now known as Ryan Mino was born in an unknown location on an unknown day to unknown parents. He was born to an unknown name and was just another unknown baby with unknown eyes and an unknown smile. At 03:46 Galactic Standard Time; an unknown baby of unknown origins rolled out from under the seats of a Republic Transport Agency Shuttle travelling from Coruscant to Naboo via Tatoone, Dantooine, New Alderaan and Agamar.
The baby's head was wrapped in a thick, grubby cloth; blocking off the nose, mouth and eyes. He was deadly silent despite the sudden roll across the floor of the banking vessel and completely naked despite the oversized gag. It took the passengers of the shuttle a moment or two to come to terms with what they had just seen as the baby lay there, in a state of unconsciousness or death on the filthy floor.
*******
A Twi'lek news reporter crackled onto visi-screens around the galaxy. She was tall and electric blue in colour; her lekku draped gracefully over her shoulds and the make up around her eyes making them seem ten times their usual size. She spoke with that received pronunciation voice of all reporters; speaking in galactic basic and not faltering in her polite and inviting smile despite the matter she was reporting.
“I am here at the Capital of Agamar – Calna Muun – where a Republic Transport Shuttle has just landed; the passengers having discovered a baby under their seats. The unknown baby boy – who has since been named Baby Ryan after the captain of the Transport Shuttle – was found with its head wrapped in a thick scarf and, I am told by reliable sources, died of suffocation many hours before discovery.”
The news reporter babbled on for another ten minutes, linking this scenario with previous cases which bore as much resemblance to one another as a Rancor does to a Wookiee. The green light on top of the camera in front of her turned off and the reporter dropped her gracious, elegant stance – but still she was smiling. She wandered around the area, attempting to find someone who could give a dramatic description of what happened or else could give her some huge revalation into the baby's identity. The truth was; this was just another job to her, this was no tragic than having to change the bottle on a water-cooler.
Meanwhile, the reporter back in the news studio on Coruscant said the following words:
“Some viewers may find the following images disturbing.”
A photograph of Baby Ryan appeared on visi-screens across the galaxy; head still wrapped in the filthy rag of cloth. His skin was blackened with dirt, his fingers on his right hand splayed out awkwardly as his right leg appeared to have numerous more joints then it should. Countless people burst into floods of tears or were gripped by an inescapable wave of nausea.
“Does anyone know what the Hell we should do?”
The black plastic moved, the weird crackling sound echoing around the room and jerking the lab coated member of staff from his slumber. He frowned around in the dark room just as the muffled sounds of a crying baby began; soft at first before crescendoing into that massive wail that only a baby's lungs can achieve. The Morgue Staff member's first reaction was to fall from his tipped back swivel chair and drop heavily onto his back with a sudden yell of surprise and, following that, he scrambled back behind his desk in a panic. Without any pause to assess the situation; the terrified staff member thumbed the emergency button; fearing the rise of the dead and the start of the apocalypse.
Six minutes later; the manager of the morgue, representatives from Agamar Police and top medical professionals had arrived, all very disgruntled.
“What appears to be the problem?” Spoke one of the representatives from the Agamarian Police Force – totally disregarding the crying baby and looking down at the terrified morgue staff with what can only be described as uncaring amusement. Without hesitation, Doctor Alison Pavit strode between the men in the room and towards metallic stretcher with the small, black body bag which was writhing and emitting that desperate cry of a baby when it cannot catch it's breath.
Within moments; Doctor Pavit had unzipped the thick black plastic bag and had brought the screaming child up into her arms. The multiple joints in his leg had fused; leaving just one joint at his knee. The peculiarly shaped arm was now perfectly normal and the thick stretch of fabric had been removed from his head. This was, at first glance, a perfectly healthy baby who was distraught at a lack of food and comfort.
“Does anyone know what the Hell we should do?” Yelled the cowering staff member from behind his desk.
“Shut up!” Hissed Doctor Pavit; gently rocking baby Ryan who calmed almost instantly; despite that pit of hunger in his stomach.
“But it was dead!” The staff member wailed again, in a fearful panic. In his world; people who died were dead and that was the end of it. Death was death and life was solely for the living. This child was clearly the spawn of something sinister.
“HE was dead; but now HE is alive.” Doctor Pavit was surprisingly calm despite the situation; it was one of the qualities that drove her to the very top of her profession. She wrapped him in a soft, white towel; tying it carefully in a knot.
*******
The morgue was silent once more. One representative of Agamarian Police stood by the door; leaning heavily against it with his eyes threateningly close to closing. Doctor Pavit; who had stayed to look after baby Ryan, was asleep behind the desk; her head resting on her hand. The Morgue Staff member who had been so terrified of the undead baby was stood, leaning back against the desk and not taking his eyes from sleeping Ryan. His head raised slowly as an idea struck his mind. Clear lightbulb moment.
He glanced quickly to Doctor Pavit and, happy she was sound asleep, strode across the room to the sleeping baby. Carefully, so not to wake him or allow him to make a sound, he picked Ryan up; holding him with one arm against his shoulder. And marched towards the door. The Police Member straightened up, barring his path, but folded the moment a small number of Republic Credits changed hands. Lighting a cigarette with one hand; the morgue staff member carried Ryan down in the lift and out of the building; striding through the emptied night time streets. The moment he was away from Doctor Pavit; he quickened his pace and rapidly awoke the young baby Ryan who wailed almost instantly.
Through the middle of Calna Muun runs a huge flowing river – protected by a large barrier stretching approximately eight feet high to prevent anyone attempting to swim in the warm; dangerous waters. It is for this reason that the Morgue Staff Member had to turn on the spot to gain the momentum; flinging the baby in a throw like a discuss way over the metallic barrier. Although he did not notice; blood pounding in his ears whilst he was desperate to drown the baby who refused to die; Ryan's crying stopped mid-flight, his descent towards the water slowing rather than hastening and his impact into it causing no splash at all. The Force flowed heavily around the baby, cocooning him and shielding him from the dangers of the world.
It is highly likely that this moment, buried deep down within his subconscious, is the reason for Mino's fear of water. This fear is so intense that should be ever be totally submerged in water; his brain blackens into a panic attack so severe that he loses all sense of time, loses his position in the world and his mind goes blank. It's strange how a man that's not afraid of being stabbed, having limbs removed or being shot is so terrified of drowning.
“The green toe tag spoke volumes about this particular child.”
For the second time in two days; an unknown baby of unknown origins was found. This time, not on a vessel or believed dead, but wrapped in a once white towel and sound screaming that sickening scream of a baby left too long without comfort. The people who found him were hunters in the Agamarian forests of Zero, over forty miles east of Calna Muun on the banks of the river Nus, an estuary of the river Calna Muun.
The hunters themselves were a father and son duo; aged fourteen and forty. These were two Agamarian Humans who lived off the animals they killed and were hugely enraged that their quarry had been driven away by the baby's screams. They had two possible explanations for the screams; the first, being much more likely, was that the Agamarian River Snake which – quite like the Parrot indigenous to other plants – was able to replicate noises it had heard in order to lure its prey towards it. The second option, which is very unlikely and the hunters did not consider for a second, was that an actual baby had come down the river, survived and was now crying.
The Agamarian River Snake's skin can fetch up to 700 Republic Credits, with the right buyer.
With very little hesitation; the forty year old father thumbed a button on a small silver cylinder before throwing it towards the source of the wailing noise. After a fraction of a heartbeat; the cylinder exploded with the sound of a muffled cannon; an electric blue flash encased the area and a small amount of light grey smoke blew from the small explosion. Baby Ryan fell silent.
The two hunters pounced; the father in the lead and the son covering the rear with his raised Czerka Rifle. The father, mid leap down a ditch towards the concealed baby, spun over in the air and gave a shout of surprise; twisting his body unnaturally so not to fall onto the now unconscious baby. Within just ten seconds of the explosive device going off; Baby Ryan's mouth opened once more and his face contorted back into the cry.
The father jumped yet again in surprise; crashing down into the deeper waters of the river and struggling against them for a moment. He managed, due to his greater height, to plant his feet on the river bed and force his way up and onto the side. The son kept his rifle raised; aiming at the baby with distrust. The father looked the baby over with the frown; his eyes immediately drawn to the lime green toe tag wrapped around the baby's big toe on right foot.
The green toe tag spoke volumes about this particular child.
Without hesitation and without even answering his son's confused gaze; the father gripped the knotted white towel roughly with one hand. He used the towel as a sling to pick the baby up; supporting its weight with the fabric as the knot began to come loose threatening to drop the baby down to the water once more. Not waiting for this; the father spun the towel in his hands and launched the baby upwards in a huge arch and away down the river.
Once more; the force spared the young boy, wrapping itself around him in a desperate attempt to slow his descent towards the water before allowing him to slip, easily into it and pass breathlesly into the deep; murky waters. The river flow, however, was intense; dragging him further and further under and twisting him across the landscape of Agamar. He passed unseen through forests, through hills, through winding valleys and past huge cliffs. He dropped down small waterfalls and smashed into rocks. He moved with the ebb and flow of the river and, even with the collisions with rocks and time spent without oxygen, the baby survived as he ran from the river and into the sea; the water's temperature dropping from the warmth of Malna Cuun and to the icing, death imposing temperatures of the Southern Circle.
*******
“Baby Ryan!” A man of approximately 60 years of age, his face battle scarred and covered in a thick white beard, bellowed from the bow of a vast sea vessel. The wind caused his hair and thick robes to whip backwards in an impressive manner as he gazed out to sea with one foot perched on the very end of the ship.
He put a great deal of emphasis on the word 'baby' as he knew it could provoke a negative response from the boy. He and the rest of his crew found it hilarious to watch Ryan shout the reasons why he was not a baby and sit down onto the floor in a sulk. The name came from the toe tag they had found him with. On it, it simply read the name “Baby Ryan”.
A boy of roughly four years stumbled up the steps from the lower sections of the ship; climbing up onto the deck. Somehow; the boy Ryan was very stable on his feet at an age where most children are not – even with the gentle rocking of the deck as the ship cut through waves.
“Captain?” Spoke Ryan in a voice which demonstrated and a demanded a great deal of respect; this is quite shocking in a four year old and usually made most person recoil with the strangeness.
“Get dressed. We're going on land.” At that moment; Ryan heard the faint splash as the anchor was dropped. This anchor was different from that ancient anchor of large rusted metal which held the ship in place by sheer weight alone. This anchor was a small cylindrical piece of metal which, when submerged in water, opened up into a claw which burrowed deeply into the ground and trailing a very thin but very strong reinforced wire. The ship stopped moving instantly.
In the distance; Ryan could see something striking. A small island of an uninteresting nature sat north-west of their vessel but atop it was an incredible tall building. It was a tower of immense proportions; very narrow and stretching up into a point but it was the single tallest building on the planet – and most planets in the area. Constructed almost entirely from white marble but reinforced with invisible lengths of durasteel and cortosis; this building was the single most impressive building on Agamar.
Within moments; Ryan had dressed himself in thick greying robes, cut down from the captain's old set, and was in a small rowing boat with the old man. The waves which seemed insignificant when on the ship were now threatening to throw the rowing boat's inhabitants into the swelling water. Ryan was shaking with fear.
The Captain had liked Ryan; had picked him out a strong person almost immediately. From the day they found him in their fishing net and the first moment he saw the tell tale morgue toe tag wrapped around his big toe; the Captain knew. But Ryan was terrified of the water. There were so many things he would not do on the ship for fear of ending up in the water. If it wasn't for that; the Captain would have kept him on the ship. However; when the boy was clearly not cut out for sea life and the boy was showing signs of force sensitivity, the captain knew what would be morally right.
Ryan was hurriedly handed over to the Agamarian Jedi Temple. The Captain no longer wanted him on the ship and the Jedi wanted him under their supervision. Nobody seemed interested in what young Ryan wanted who, to be truly honest, only wanted to do what everyone else didn't want him to do because they didn't want him to do it.
Despite his wishes; he was rapidly assimilated into the daily routine. He was given robes of a light beige colour and repeatedly forced to attend lessons on 'ethics'; lessons on 'being a good person' and lessons on 'thinking about being a good person'.
“Why Don't You and I...?”
Ryan sat on the top bunk of his bed in the dormitory; his legs hanging over the edge and stretching his arm out to the side to relieve the strain in his shoulder. The day had been hard; pushing himself in combat training against multiple opponents.Despite his initial reluctance; upon working on combat and physical fitness Ryan had discovered his niche in the order and asserted himself as a capable combatant. Over ten years; he had learned the basics of the Shii-Cho saber form, demonstrated his control over aggression and pushed on to the basics of Djem So – leaving the students of his age bracket trailing a long way behind.
That day; he had progressed on to training with Padawans who had a much higher level of experience than himself. The training plan of any militant commander is to break a student down before rebuilding him as something ten times better. Ryan was not yet broken; but it was clear that something was beginning to give.
As testament to his nonchalant, uncaring nature; he had managed to sneak in a small box containing a large, pepperoni pizza despite the Temple's strict dietary plan. He lay back onto the bed, lowering a piece down into his mouth and savouring that salty, greasy taste. It was these moments that he enjoyed; tired and aching from a day of training and enjoying the small comforts of life. This was not the Jedi way and he was not a Jedi – he would be the first to admit it – but right now he was content.
And what was he, really? Ryan. A name on a green toe tag he had since he was a baby. Baby Ryan. No. He shook his head, irritatedly thinking it. Remembering the punch to the jaw he received seven years ago as another initiate shouted the word baby at him over and over. He remembered the other comments and the other things. Raising his hand up, he admired the thick layer of muscle which had built up on his arm and visualised just how much damage he could do to those children now.
Looking past his arm, he saw the cardboard box of takeaway pizza lying on his bed. It covered the first two letters of the company name and he smiled to himself; picking out the last four. Mino. He liked that. Ryan Mino? It would do.
Unlike the majority of his younger fellows, Mino was yet to bond with a Jedi Knight and progress to the rank of Padawan. Mino was a recluse, a loner and proud to be so. He was, in the words of one of the knights: “an arrogant little poodoo who refused to understand his place in the galaxy”. Those who felt kindest towards him, those who felt most considerate, would justify his desire to be alone as a defence mechanism .
However, truth be told, Mino was arrogant because he had always been arrogant. It was a deeply engraved part of his psychological behaviour to be arrogant, to be selfish and to be ‘a little poodoo’. None of this was to say that his arrogance was not backed up with a great deal of skill, however.
Mino was a fierce trainer.
*******
The metal shafts of the weights were rough against his palms and yet, with his jaw clenched and his biceps straining, he brought them back up to complete the seven-hundredth rep. He stooped and dropped them to the floor with that loud metallic clang that echoed around the large, empty gym. With a frown, he glanced around the room to double check what he already knew before crossing over to the smallest of the punching bags. Reaching up above his head, his hand curling around the very top of the bag, he dipped it into the course, synthetic material and plucked out a paper cylinder of perfection.
Touching the pinkish-brown filter to his lower lip, he closed his mouth around it and rolled it across the tip of his tongue. Tucked into the waistband of his black trousers he withdrew the small card wallet of matches and lit one with a flick of his wrist. The flame crackled into life before igniting the tip of his cigarette and being shook out into a smoking black mass.
The first drag on a cigarette was always the best - closely followed by all the others. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“You know; smoking is bad for you.” He froze as the female voice reached his ears. It was calm and cool and familiar; though he could not place who’s voice it actually was.
“Heavy wrist action can cause RSI, but that doesn’t stop half the teenagers around here.” His voice matched just how cool hers was as he slowly turned around. He could practically hear her smirk. “Oh, my bad. Did I break the moment?” Words could not explain just how glad he was that he had managed to finish his sentence before he set eyes on the girl that was looking back at him. She was a few inches shorter than he was; her skin was lily white and perfectly smooth and her hair a deep and strong black whilst her eyes were brilliantly blue. He liked her eyes the most; they were captivating.
“Don’t worry; moments are resilient.” Both smiled, holding each other’s gaze with a little too much intensity for simple friendly eye contact.
“That’s what they said about the Clone Army.” He took another drag on his cigarette, regretting the fact that he had to close his eyes from the harsh tobacco smoke that emanated from the end of it. “I bet if I asked to see your underwear the moment wouldn’t recover.”
“That depends on who I am, doesn’t it?” She was steadily walking towards him, her stare inviting him to match it whilst her hand raised up, fingertips splayed out elegantly, stretched out towards his torso.
“And who exactly are you?” His gaze slid down to her hand, pausing for a fraction of a second on her right breast, and watched as he fingers touched his right forearm.
“Nobody.” Her fingers slid up his arm, over the muscle of his bicep and to his shoulder as he returned the cigarette to his lips.
“Nobody?” He tilted his head slightly as he took a drag, before lowering the cigarette back down to his side. “Then it looks like nobody will be getting a kiss.”
“Hmm?” She was distracted by the expanse of attractive muscle, shining with a thin layer of odourless perspiration, and yet upon the mention of the word ‘kiss’ her eyes flicked up to the face of the man she was ogling. He did not grant her the time to comprehend what was going on and brought his right arm around her, hooking at her waist to pull her into his chest. His lips met hers in the most powerful of confrontations, tongues slowly beginning to dance around each other as each gained both confidence and momentum.
“Falling From Grace.”
The equipment cupboard door opened suddenly and light filled the dark, vertical bed of the two naked Jedi. Mino’s yell of surprise was enough to startle the even younger Jedi into slamming the door shut before his innocent eyes were greeted by the lurid sights of post adult activity.
“Oh Hell!” Hissed Jedi Padawan Grace Lynn in a panicked whisper as one of her arms wrapped itself across her chest in a poor attempt to conceal her nipples and her other arm dropped with a hand to conceal that other source of her shame.
“Be quiet, would you?” Mino matched her whisper as he bent over to retrieve a small pair of faded pink underpants from the floor. “Are these yours, Gorgeous?” he said, smiling, with them hooked over his forefinger. Grace turned a violent shade of red as she snatched them from him and began struggling to pull them on in their overly cramped conditions.
Eventually, and with some difficulty, Mino pushed the cupboard door open; still buckling his belt and cast an eye around the room for the shirt he had discarded the night before. Grace squealed highly, as her behind was thrown into full view with the open door. Mino just chuckled.
“Quiet down. Nobody is here.” He said, grinning in an attractive form of arrogance as he plucked his shirt from where it hung over a pull up bar. The door was hastily pulled shut and concealed Padawan Lynn from his eyes as he turned around. “Damn it! I was never very good at force sight, woman!” Surprisingly quickly, the door banged open once more and Grace marched out of it; fully dressed.
“How about you go away, Mino?” She came to a halt in front of him, one hand resting on her hip and the other brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Her smile was captivating and as Mino's eyes dropped to it, he couldn't help but run his tongue over his own lower lip.
“How about you help me?” He said, his gaze still fixed on her smile before slowly bringing it back up to her eyes. Unlike most men; Mino could control where his eyes ended up and somehow, discretely, manage to draw in the very things that guys wanted to see.
“Ask me later. I've got places to be.” She turned and walked away, still smiling as though she could see through the clothes he wore and was unimpressed. Raising a hand over her shoulder and not turning her head, she wiggled her fingers in a simultaneously seductive yet mocking manner. “Toodle-ooh.”
*******
Mino and Grace did meet up again. They met up quite a lot as it happens; having to be incredibly discrete to avoid the disapproving glares of the Jedi Knights and Masters. Grace had her own problems; she was a successful Padawan and could not be seen doing the things she was doing with anyone, let alone such a rebellious Jedi as Mino. But she did those things oh so well.
Padawan Lynn was being mentored by Jedi Master Oddanis and was swiftly progressing towards taking the Jedi Trials. She was never a combatant but she was a strong Consular; knowing considerably more about the intricacies of healing than the majority of the Knights and had even contributed to the vast wealth that is the Consular Archives. Her intelligence knew no bounds and the Jedi trials would surely be no issue for her.
Her combat left a little to be desired; she was both acrobatic and fast and so was usually adept enough to avoid taking a hit. But when the time came, she could not deliver the counter attack or bring forth the stun cuffs. Grace utilised her skills in Form Zero and deflection to cripple her opponent's will to fight but, should that be broken, it didn't take much to finish her. For some reason Mino liked this about her.
He liked to think that they complimented each other. She was brains and he was brawn. Together they broke many of the Jedi rules; the first being the obvious one which they broke on that first day in the supply cupboard. They would slip out of the Temple at night to pick up food. They would break free completely on weekends when Master Oddanis was off world and jump on the first shuttle they found. They had a few close calls but, between their combined strengths, they were able to get away unharmed.
Admittedly, there was the time that Mino returned to the Temple with a slow release toxic dart embedded deep between his third and forth rib on his right side. Thankfully, Grace's medical knowledge, after a day or two of him getting weaker and weaker and trying to avoid detection from the other Jedi, had won through and enabled her to synthesise an antidote which simultaneously dissolved the dart and passed it harmlessly through his blood stream.
And there was the time when Grace and Mino had got separated on a drunken night on Nar Shaddaa. The pair of them had drunk so much that neither can remember that night but very vividly does Mino remember waking up in the back of the Orange Lady Cantina with a raging hangover, an empty bottle of whiskey and a pocket full of credits. He had raised his head up from the table he had been sleeping on to see Grace, wearing only the lower half of a set of very revealing lingerie, chained to the floor in a cage. The chain ran up from a ring between her feet, all the way up to a thick collar around her neck.
The Orange Lady was closed for six galactic standard months following Mino's reaction.
*******
The class of initiate's bowed their heads to the Padawan, all except for Mino, in gratitude for their lesson. Mino instead gave a polite smile, a nod to the representative of the Agamarian Jedi Council, and walked on out. Before leaving her gave Grace a look which quite clearly demonstrated how much he had his fingers crossed for her.
It was clear to Mino, being one of the older students, that the representative of the Council could mean only one thing. Grace Lynn was part way through her Jedi Trials and, if she had progressed to the lesson stage, she had passed the knowledge test. He smiled to himself as he lowered himself down to sit on one of the grand marble steps leading away from the training room. As he had expected; the large double doors behind him closed and all sound from the room was blocked off.
So now it was time for her combat test. This was the part he knew she was most concerned about. Part of him was desperate for Grace to do well but somewhere, very deep down, was jealous. Grace and he had been through a lot and she had proven herself no more adept than he was. She had broken just as many rules. But somehow it was Grace who got selected as a Padawan and Grace who progressed on to take the trials. And, he knew what she would do, the first thought that would cross her mind would be 'I know, let's take Mino as my Padawan.' But he didn't need any handouts from her.
Suddenly the double doors burst open and the Council member sprinted out of them, his lightsaber hilt already in his hand. Grace trailed behind quickly, a fierce expression on her face and her own lightsaber hilt raised. Mino had barely enough time to jump up to his feet and look hopeful on Grace's behalf before the Councillor bellowed at the top of his lungs – his voice no doubt aided by The Force.
“Sound the alarm! We are under attack!” He strode on determinedly, his robes and beard billowing out behind him. “Masters to the great hall! Initiates to the vault!” Neither Grace nor Mino had seen one of the Jedi Masters in this sort of situation. Whereas it fuelled the adrenaline in Mino, thrusting him on to be bigger and bolder and braver than ever before; it made Grace get nervous.
“What about Padawans?” She hissed at Mino.
“Come on.” He took her by the hand and lead her onwards; running in the opposite direction from the other initiates and pushing on after the Jedi Masters. They bounded down the steps, taking them four at a time, and vaulted a balcony; landing with a roll on the lower level. It was at that instant that the huge double doors that lead into the temple, the ones constructed from ornate durasteal with a cortosis weave buried deep inside, shattered.
The explosion would have surely blasted a small handful of Jedi from their feet and made it impossible for them to recover before the unknown horde of attackers were upon them. However; it just so happened that Grace and Mino had made it to the entrance hall. Grace had sensed the impending detonation and, instead of wasting time with a shout or a cry, had raised both her hands and reached out with The Force. She had sculpted it and cultivated it into a virtually solid barrier of blue Ashla energy which cocooned the Jedi in the hall; the shards of the door ricocheting away and the firey explosion unable to permeate through.
However, with the sheer control in The Force required to hold up this barrier, Grace's legs lost the ability to support her weight and she dropped; Mino stooping to catch her. The barrier vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he pulled her back up to her feet; that cocky smile of battle slowly stretching his features. Blaster fire battered its way through the still smoking doorway and, unable to see their attackers, all Jedi in the area ignited their lightsabers and parried any and all bolts which came their way. These were Knights and Masters, these were trained combatants.
A solitary red beam of light jutted out through the smoking archway and hung there, in the hand of an unknown person. A fraction of a heartbeat later; a sea of Red Lightsaber blades ignited in the smoke and almost every single Jedi in the area took a step back. This was ten times more dangerous than any of them had predicted.
Knowing her own strengths, and Mino's also, Grace threw her saber hilt up from her belt, directly upwards into the air, and took three steps away; moving into her focusing stance to better channel The Force through her. Without hesitation; Mino's hand clasped around the moving saber hilt and thumbed the ignition, the green blade igniting outwards as he was already moving to join the ranks of the Jedi Knights. He felt the sudden cooling sensation as a Force Shield was cast around him, melding with his flesh to guard him from any incoming uses of the Force. Not a second too soon; a massive surge of Force Energy smashed its way through the Jedi Ranks sending all but Mino backwards and off their feet, it pushed the smoke through with it; wrapping it around the standing Initiate with his arms raised.
Throwing his head back, but keeping his eyes focused forwards, Mino let howl the Krayt Dragon Battle cry he had learned from the resident Battlemaster. Within an instant, he had a red saber baring down on him; the black cladded, white faced Sith's face bared as he drove the saber down in a vicious slash towards him. Without faltering, Mino parried the attack and side stepped, bringing his saber up into the Djem So fighting style he had focused many years into practising.
All around him flashed lightsaber blades of varying colours; some blue, some green but most red. Turning on the spot, he parried off two blaster bolts and then backhanded the Sith who had first attacked him, once more knocking him off balance before bringing his saber up into a thrusting stab towards the man's torso. He felt a sharp tug as the force shield was ripped from him and then a second lurch as a Force Strike impacted with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and threatening to throw him off his feet.
Grace leaped over a Jedi Master who duelled with a Sith Lord and his apprentice, bringing her arms up as she passed through the air. Without hesitation, she punched off a Force Push towards the new Sith baring down on Mino, slamming him of his feet and redirecting his attention onto her. Dancing around on the spot, and bringing her other arm across, she focused a wave of Electrical Judgement out towards him also; wrapping the lime green tendrils of energy around him and sapping him of all energy. Mino took this moment to ram his unarmed fist into the side of the first Sith's head, bringing his weapon arm up and impaling the Sith through the heart. Disigniting his blade out, he moved quickly over the falling Sith's body, reigniting the blade as dived to stand in between the Sith Lord and Grace, twirling it over in his hand. The electrical Judgement stopped as quickly as it started and she refocused her energies into imbuing Mino with various protective Force Powers. A shield to protect him from the Force. A gathering of force into his legs to aid him in his speed of movements. And a boon; to grant him that extra strength in the force to keep him cool and calm and always allow him a way out.
The Sith lord was baring down upon him, with an open mouthed grin. He slashed his saber across to Mino, battering his way through his defence and slamming his saber down to the side. His free hand moved to grip the initiate by the throat, lifting him up off of his feet. Grace came out of nowhere, moving into a slide tackle underneath Mino's legs and crashing straight into the Sith's – knocking them out from underneath him and forcing him to drop the young man. Before the Sith could change target, Mino gripped onto his weapon hand; forcing it upwards and away, his fingers scrabbling to reach out towards the hilt. The Sith fought back, his other hand moving towards Mino's side with vicious claws intending to puncture his flesh and tears their way between his ribs.
Mino flicked the ignition switch on the Sith's lightsaber, releasing his hand almost instantly and ramming the hardest part of his skull forwards into the bridge of his attacker's nose. In that moment when the Sith staggered backwards; an armoured figure soared over the area, Mandalorian Rifle in its hands and opened a rapid fire on the Initiate which devastated their forces.
He danced backwards, twirling the blade up and utilising his very basic Soresu knowledge. Parrying the blaster bolts off to the side with rapid twists and turns of the saber. He turned on the spot, twisting his parry into an aggressive slash and deflecting the blaster bolt back towards the Jet Packed Mandalorian. Attempting to duck under the bolt, the Mandalorian's right shoulder lowered and back twisted causing it to tear into the Jetpack and expelling the entirety of its fuel. He launched upwards, spinning out of control before the jetpack cut out and he dropped like a stone, arms flailing desperately to catch onto something non-existent.
It was at that moment that Mino saw what he had missed. Grace was pinned down, a saber tearing its way down towards her head, her torso crushed into the ground by the Sith Lord's knee. He dived; the force speed still flowing through his legs and crossed the twelve foot distance in less than a heartbeat; diving in the way, his saber spinning up into the path of the red blade. It ricocheted off dangerously, the Sith Lord's face twisting around as he brought up his unarmed hand and launched a stream of electric blue lightning out into Mino's chest; ramming him off his feet and sending him flying backwards.
He slammed on his back, his robes smoking slightly. Without hesitation, with little concern of what would happen to him, Mino threw the saber from his hand; controlling its spin with the force and guiding it through the air. The blade tore in through the side of the Sith's head; hanging there in place as his head burned and his brain fried.
The red hilt fell from his hand, blade disigniting immediately and Grace forced herself back up to her feet. Mino's ears twitched, the hair on his neck standing up and he had only a fraction of second to roll to the side as another stream of blaster bolts made their way towards him. A shout came from one of the Jedi Knights; loud and authoritative over the heat of battle.
“Pull back! Up the stairs!” Mino hauled himself up, reaching back over his shoulder with one hand and calling the nearest discarded saber to him. Instinctively, he ignited the blade and spun it around into a parry of the blaster bolts – once more redirecting them to their source and sending the Mandalorian out of the sky. He bounded up the stairs, calming instantly as Grace reaching his left side – her green saber now ignited in her own hand. He saw one of the Knights falter as he caught sight of the Red Blade in Mino's hand but, upon recognising him, he relaxed slightly. Before realising what it meant.
“Mino! What the hell are you doing here?!” He yelled. Mino ignored him. The Jedi formed rank at the top of the stairs, holding their sabers up and forming a defensive wall. Mino turned to Grace.
“I want you to go.” She looked at him with a glare. “I want you to go and join the Initiates.”
“I'm a Jedi!”
“And I don't want you hurt!” He shouted, loudly; raising his saber up casually to parry off a stray blaster bolt. She brushed him to one side with her arm, stepping to turn into the fight once more. Disigniting her saber, she clipped it back onto her belt and raised both her hands. Her eyes closing; the force emanated out from her fingers, twisting and contorting into a huge shield once more. One of the Jedi Knights frowned before stepping behind her and putting a hand onto her shoulder, closing his eyes and channelling as much force energy as he could into the Trainee Knight.
The force orb strengthened; stretching wide over the area and completely protecting all the Jedi. The Knights and Masters stepped away from their line. Mino blended in as best he could.
One Master, the resident Warriormaster, issued out orders. He picked out a small number of consulars to assist Grace in the protective Force Powers. He picked out a handful of trained fighters to protect them and together they would form up the Rear Guard. Mino slid in with this number, ducking out of everyone's sight. He picked out the Council Members and the younger Knights to mount the second guard. He picked out the final group of Teachers to make their way to The Vault and protect the Initiates and Padawans.
“This will be a retreating defence. We make our way back to The Vault slowly; from there we can easily defend before we push back.” All the Knights looked around at each other. Grace hissed at them to hurry up. They nodded. “Move out.”
Grace held on to the shield as long as she could, holding out as the two other teams made a move. She paused, glancing to Mino who had materialised at her side and confirming he was ready. He nodded.
The shield dropped.
Mino side stepped quickly, raising his saber up to defend the incoming stream of blaster bolts away from Grace. Turning on the spot, he brought his stolen red blade up into the blade that came screaming down towards him. Dipping his other hand down, beneath the two interlocked blades, he rammed out a small force push into the Sith's stomach – pushing him away from him and sending him rolling down the steps. The Jedi, as one, took a small step backwards, parrying everything that they could coming towards them.
One Jedi Knight fell; he too rolling down the steps.
Mino reached out and called their fallen lightsaber to his hand. Igniting the yellow blade up, he slashed his two blades into the second incoming blade. The combined strength of his two arms smashed his attackers lightsaber to the ground and Mino brought his right foot up into a high kick directly into the Sith's face; shattering his nose on impact and making his face a mass of blood and teeth. As that Sith doubled back, a hand moving up to protect his already ruined face, Mino span around and threw the Red Saber from him, impaling a Mandalorian who had brought his rifle up to aim towards Grace.
“Shield!” Mino yelled, taking up the authoritative role over the heads of Jedi who all were senior to him. Without hesitation; Grace brought up the shield once more, blocking off the top of the stairs. There was a frantic few seconds whilst the last Sith Apprentice attempted to escape before the shield sprung into being behind him and he impacted off of it. A Jedi knight drove the hilt of his lightsaber into the top of the Apprentice's skull, knocking him unconscious immediately.
This rear guard had progressed all the way up the flight of stairs; keeping the Sith-Mandalorian army and, they would assume, granted the previous two teams enough time to make it to The Vault. The Jedi all disignited their sabers.
There was calm on the battlefield for a brief moment. The shield would hold strong, two Consulars were aiding Grace in its formation and, it was clear, the Sith were running low on numbers.
Three things happened at once. The Sith army moved to the side of the Great Hall, forming a corridor leading from the ruined doorway and to the base of the stairs. The Mandalorians all activated their jetpacks; gliding up high into the rafters and vanishing into the shadows. And a solitary figure, clad all in black, walked slowly yet purposefully through the door. His hood was raised, concealing everything but his mouth which was thin and contorted into an aggressive snarl. Without a second glance to the Sith that surrounded the walls; this figure marched up the marble steps, walking on and over the Jedi and Sith which littered his pathway until he was mere inches from the translucent blue shield.
Raising one hand, he pressed ghostly white fingers onto the shield and the effect was instantaneous. A red stain began to form around each of the fingertips, crackling with red electricity as it overtook the blue shield. The red twisted and contorted around in some form of regimented pattern. For a fraction of a heartbeat the message was clear; huge six foot letters filled the stairway. Six, six foot letters.
Lidérc.
“Hell!” Yelled one of the senior Jedi in the area, diving away to the back and reigniting his saber. Mino looked around to Grace, instinctively, and saw the strain this Sith was putting on the shield. One small trickle of blood was stretching down from her right nostril as she fought to hold onto the shield, her eyes blank and vacant. The shield exploded.
Unprotected; the Jedi were all blasted backwards off their feet, landing heavily onto the floor and, before they could respond, the Sith had charged up the stairs, the Mandalorians had swooped down upon them and they were once more overcome in the battle.
Mino was the first on his feet, moving up into a slash towards a Mandalorian's ankles and severing them almost instantly. He danced around to the sith charging to Grace – who was still crumpled in a heap on the floor – and rammed his shoulder into the oncoming torso.
The world exploded. Way above them, at the very top of the Temple, there was a huge explosion which sent rubble cascading down around them. Lidérc walked slowly through the battle again, uncaring for the rubble which threatened to crush him, and casually removed his saber hilt from the inside of his robes. He simultaneously seemed to move slowly and lazily whilst somehow managing to move too fast for the Jedi to defend; his saber igniting into a horizontal slash and severing the Warriormaster's head from his shoulders.
Mino moved back to cover Grace, holding his saber out before him in his Djem So Stance and breathing heavily. He was one of three Jedi left standing. Glaring at Lidérc, he let howl his Krayt Dragon Battle Cry once more. The furious Sith bore down on him. With a yell he parried the first slash down to his head before dancing around to the side and parrying the second; he brought his hand up roughly and fired out a force push under the Sith's guard. It was absorbed off, lazily and Mino was once more pushed back onto the defensive.
A foot hooked behind Mino's, sweeping it out from beneath him and sending him crashing down to the floor beside Grace. Yet another explosion went off on the upper levels and more rubble came crashing down. Somehow, either due to bad luck or due to some sadistic will of The Force, the only people whom the rubble hit were Jedi. A huge segment of the ceiling crashed down onto Mino, crushing his torso before rolling across him. He coughed; his ribs broken and spine threatening to break.
Despite this, despite the certainty of death and the certainty of pain; Mino forced himself up to his feet. His thumb moved instinctively to reignite the blade in his hand and he was swiftly illuminated by a yellow glow. A red blade came up to meet him almost instantly. With huge difficulty and the sensation that a white hot knife had punctured his lung; he parried the blade, side stepping it to bring his knee up towards Lidérc's stomach. A hand came down to push the knee aside, threatening to send Mino off balance before he brought his blade across again in yet another counter attack, slashing out towards Lidérc's shoulder.
Unknown to Mino, his mind clouded by the rage of battle, Lidérc's blade was already up and moving inwards to impale into his side. However, instead of searing pain and the bitter relase of death; Mino was hit by an immensely powerful Force Push which picked him up off of his feet and threw him, backwards, towards the stairs.
His eyes focused, mid flight, and Mino saw Lidérc's attention move to the caster of the Force Push. With little hesitation, the red blade in the Sith's hand was plunged downwards and impaled the young, beautiful girl on the floor. The girl who had that day been doing her Knight Trials and had, that day, proven herself to be the most skilled Consular in the order. The girl who had proven herself time and time again to Mino as the single most important female in the Galaxy. The girl whom he had not stopped thinking about for a whole year. In less than a heartbeat; she fell limp to the floor.
And Mino, having completely forgotten his own circumstances, slammed into the bottom few steps; rolling over and over into a crumpled mass of unconsciousness outside the Temple.
“Once More.”
The air temperature dropped considerably as night fell and Mino awoke as though his lungs had only just started working after a prolonged time of not. Rising immediately into a sitting position and gasping for air, he felt is vertebrae slide over each other and clicking back into place. The cannon of despair hit him within seconds.
He didn't break down into tears or curl up into a ball. He rose to his feet and stared around as though attempting to find some form of evidence to prove that none of it had happened. The temple was a pile of rubble in front of him. There was no evidence.
He turned his head and spat out a small mouthful of his own blood. With one hand, he reached down into his robes and plucked out a short, rectangular box. Flipping the lid, he raised it to his mouth and withdrew a paper cylinder with his lips. Rolling it over the tip of his tongue, he plucked the pack of matches from his belt and lit the end of the cigarette. Inhaling slowly, he looked over the rubble with a sombre expression.
She was dead.
She would never give him that raised eyebrow look which cut through his very core again.
He took a long drag on the cigarette, removing it from his lips and inhaling the smoke with a very heavy frown. Holding it there for as long as he possibly could, Mino then exhaled through his gritted teeth and allowed his brain to relax, drawing on the Force around him. He knew it wasn't possible, but a small part of him was trying to find her.
Reaching out around him, sensing out for any source of life. There was one; several feet away. He pounced, dropping his cigarette in the haste and, with his hands alone, digging his way down through the rubble. A gloved hand scrabbled around, desperate to find something to latch onto. On the back of the fingers was segmented, dark green armour.
Mino hissed, gripping the hand roughly. He tugged as hard as he could, dragging the Mandalorian out with just one hand. His armour was cracked and broken, the visor of is helmet smashed so that his face was a visible mess of cuts. Min took a hold of the Mandalorian helmet with his free hand and wrenched it off the man's head. “Three seconds... Two Seconds...”
“Jedi Pl-” The Mandalorian was roughly thrown to the ground, slamming down hard onto his back before Mino brought his right foot up and stamped down hard onto the man's face. The nose broke instantly, the skull threatening to break until Mino added an extra burst of power and his foot sunk straight through the thick Mandalorian Skull.
*******
“Quite probably.” He calmly reached into his robes, using his left hand and holding his right hand up, palm facing outwards, so not to alarm anyone into thinking he was drawing a weapon. He withdrew his I.D badge from the Agamarian Temple and held it out for the female Jedi. “I'm looking for the Jedi Temple, here.”
“Is there a reason the first name has been scratched out?” Spoke the Jedi, frowning at Mino.
“General wear and tear?” He said with a slight smile, his voice raising slightly as a question rather than a statement. She gave him a disapproving, unbelieving look and pulled out a comlink. With one hand, she brushed the hood down to reveal vividly blue hair and a thick black blindfold over her eyes. She thumbed the button on her comlink. She paused for half a second before speaking, allowing the comm time to connect.
“Master Orlo to Control.”
“Go ahead, Master Orlo.”
“Run me an I.D. Check. Serial number: Delta-Papa-Siera.” She paused, allowing 'control' time to type in the letters. “Tango-Delta-Four” Another paused. “Zero-One-One.”
“Standby.” Mino lifted his hands up, resting them on the back of his head as he calmly watched Master Orlo go about her work.“Jedi Initiate Ryan Zeronus Mino of The Jedi Temple on Agamar. Presumed dead.”
“Repeat that last part, Control.”
“Temple on Agamar. Presumed Dead.” Although Master Orlo's eyes were covered, it was clear that she was giving Mino a cold, calculating look. He dropped his hands from his head and patted his own chest with a bemused expression, looking down at himself.
“Well nobody told me that I was dead.” Again, Master Orlo gave him a cold look.
“Control, standby for update. I believe I have Initiate Mino with me here.” With one hand, she clipped the comlink back onto her belt and held out the I.D. card for Mino to take. “Explain.”
“The Agamar Temple was destroyed, as you know.” His shoulders dropped lower, the well built man seeming to sink into the upset child role. “In her last moments, a Jed-” He paused for a second, changing the rank in his head. Yet, due to how he was clearly saddened by all this, Master Orlo took his pause solely as emotion. “A Jedi Knight rescued me. She pushed me from the building and took the lightsaber that was meant for me.”
“So why were you not killed afterwards?” Master Orlo's questions may have seemed unsympathetic but the truth was that she had to asses Mino's allegiances; she had to know that he was just a lucky Jedi and not a dishonest one.
“Perhaps they were too intimidated by me.” His new wave of arrogance was not out of real belief, that much was clear to anyone. He was a man who had taken a severe emotional knock and was attempting to shield himself with this cocky persona. This was the first and only time Master Orlo had overlooked downright arrogance.
“And you are here to transfer to the Tython Temple?”
“You would be missing out if I didn't.” He smirked at her, his posture rising as the topic moved away from anything to do with Grace.
“Listen here, Initiate.” She stepped up a little closer to him, a finger poking hard into his chest and a fierce expression on her face.“You may not know me, but I am a Jedi Knight and you will refer to me as Master Orlo. You will drop this façade of you being almighty. You are an Initiate and you will never progress further if you do not conquer your arrogance.” Mino dropped the smirk.“Am I clear?”
His posture changed once more, moving up to attention as the good soldier that was deeply engraved into his persona.
“Yes, Master.” His gaze was straight ahead, not making eye contact with senior ranks his expression hardened and neutral.
“You will follow me to the Temple where you will be placed in a room to complete a written report on the incident on Agamar.”She spoke quickly, taking a step away from him and clasping her hands behind her back. “Then you will likely be interviewed before being assimilated back into our ranks.” Mino didn't move. “Turn around and walk.”
Master Orlo escorted Mino to the Temple where he was further escorted into a private room – frequently used for interviews of a more serious nature. There he was instructed to type up a full report in which he ommited the fact that he had been fighting on the front line and instead twisted the story to say that the Sith had broken through to the higher levels and into The Vault. In place of Grace – whom he desperately trying to avoid thinking about, let alone talking about – he put Jedi Knight Tirvius Vokka; one of the Jedi he had seen fall the instant the entrance way had been destroyed.
A Jedi by the name of Kenar Pavit asked him a few small questions. And then a few more regarding his ability as an initiate. He was dismissed, assimilated once more into the ranks and routine of the Jedi.
