First Reply The Fields Don’t Plow Themselves

[Braze]

Veridia​

Clearing land was all part of the job. Braze had spent the morning gently relocating a few trees from the parcel he intended to till, taking care not to harm their roots. The process was slow and tedious, each trunk guided aside with steady hands and care.

Using the Force to aid in the work was… taxing, in its own peaceful way. It wasn't battle... is was more like a moving meditation, but one that resulted in honest labor.It was perhaps an odd sight for any wanderer to happen upon, to see the great power that was the Force put to use in such a humble fashion.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Braze
​

Aiden watched from the edge of the clearing for a long while before saying anything. The wind moved gently through the grass, brushing against his cloak and carrying with it the scent of freshly turned soil. Braze was still at work slow, deliberate, each gesture precise as if he were guiding the trees through a slow dance. There was no strain in him, only focus; the kind that came from being entirely present in the moment.

It made Aiden smile faintly. So few used the Force this way anymore not to move mountains or to duel, but to tend.

"The Force moves well here." Aiden continued, resting his hands lightly at his belt. "It's… content. You don't often feel that on worlds touched by conflict. You've given it purpose again."

"Do you need help?" Aiden asked with a smile.

 

[Braze]

Tags: Aiden Porte

​

Braze paused, glancing toward the newcomer. Several large stones hovered nearby suspended in telekinetic power drawn from the rough field before the small group was sent gently rotating in the air before settling into neat stacks with a muted thud.

"Maybe… need? Not exactly," he said, brushing a loose lock of white hair from his eyes. "But it'd be welcome if you wanted to get a little dirty."

He exhaled slowly, body relaxing visibly as he began surveying the field ahead. The thick crust of the earth bore the scars of his earlier work, uneven and raw where the trees had been uprooted. Shallow craters marked the spots where roots had torn free, and clumps of soil still seemingly steamed faintly from the friction of the Force-lifted stones. Jagged roots protruded from the ground like the bones of some great buried beast, and the scent of sap and damp loamy soil hung thick in the air.

Patches of flattened grass struggled to reclaim their space between the turned earth, and fragments of bark littered the furrows. The afternoon light caught on flecks of mica in the soil, giving the rough terrain a faint, glittering sheen beneath the sunlight.

"I need to till the soil and prepare it for farming. This area is to be a new field. Growing food is one of my top priorities out this way. "

 

[Aiden Porte]

Braze
​

Aiden gave a small nod, setting aside his outer robe as he stepped closer. The air was warm with effort and sunlight, the scent of sap and soil thick enough to taste. He rolled his sleeves past his elbows and crouched near one of the freshly turned plots, running a gloved hand through the coarse earth. It clung to his skin—rich, heavy, and alive.

"Good soil." he murmured, almost to himself. "It'll take to seed well once it breathes again."

Without waiting for further invitation, Aiden sank his fingers into the dirt and began loosening a section by hand, feeling for stubborn roots before cutting through them with the edge of a small spade. He didn't rely on the Force for this not yet. The rhythm of the work steadied him, each motion deliberate and grounding. Sweat gathered quickly at his brow, streaking the dust on his skin.

When he finally did reach out with the Force, it wasn't to command, but to complement the way a farmer might work beside his plow. A section of soil lifted just enough to ease the burden, shifting gently with his gestures before settling again. The hum of the power blended with the creak of roots and the rustle of leaves; it was quiet, cooperative, almost reverent.

"This kind of work…" Aiden said after a while, his voice low but not weary, "It relaxes the mind, eases the worries." Aiden showed a small smile as he looked over to Braze. "Have you been out here long my friend?"

 

[Braze]

Tags: Aiden Porte

​

Braze had an old plow he'd bought from someone in town. He didn't have any horses, mules, or other farm creatures suited for hard labor, but that didn't seem to stop him. A small array of gardening tools was scattered nearby.

He stepped up to the canvas tarp where he kept them and picked up the scythe. There was still some tall grass that needed cutting before he could start clearing away the larger stones and, eventually, try to plow the rows.

"It's a very lush place… the whole planet's practically teeming with life," Braze remarked as he started to scythe the taller grasses.
"Yeah… kind of lets you get lost in your own thoughts. I've been here for a few years," he added simply, the rhythmic swish of the blade marking each quiet pause. "A little here, a little there, whenever things were quiet."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Braze ​

He fell into step beside Braze, letting the rhythm of the scythe guide his own pace. Each swing of the blade whispered through the grass, followed by the steady sound of Aiden's shovel turning over clumps of soil. It was slow, honest work, the kind that built calluses and quieted the mind.

"Peaceful." Aiden said after a while, voice low, almost lost beneath the wind. "The galaxy forgets this kind of quiet exists." He pressed his boot to the shovel's edge, turning up another patch of rich earth before breaking apart the clods with his hands. "I used to think service meant being where the fighting was. Truthfully its just as important to stand where something grows."

He glanced over as the scythe cut another sweep through the grass, sunlight flashing on its blade. "Few years here, you said?" He smiled faintly. "Then you've already done more good than most who call themselves peacekeepers. Feeding people… rebuilding what's been lost. That's the kind of strength the galaxy actually needs."

The grass fell in steady waves before them. Aiden stooped again, dragging stones into a growing pile near the tarp, sweat tracing the edge of his jaw. "Once we get this cleared." he said, half to Braze and half to the land itself, "We'll put the plow to use. Let the soil remember what it means to be alive."

 

[Braze]

Tags: Aiden Porte
​

Braze kept cutting, the curved blade sliding through the grass in slow, even arcs. Each stroke made a soft rustle as the tall stalks fell around his boots. "Yeah… I get that," he said after a while. "When I was younger, I thought the front lines were where heroes were born. I wanted to be part of it, to make some kind of difference. I thought that was where meaning waited for me...."

Braze gave a quiet laugh, low and self-deprecating, as he kept the rhythm of his swings. "I wanted the recognition, the glory, the adulations," he admitted. "I wanted it all. The medals, the respect, the stories told about the brave Jedi who stood on the front lines and made a difference."

He stopped for a moment, the scythe resting in the tall grass as his gaze fell distant. "Funny thing is, when I finally saw what it really looked like, it wasn't anything like the stories. There's no music, nor cheers. Just people crying, screaming, or praying that it's not them next. And when it's over, there's only silence. The kind that follows you for years... the kind that follows you in to your dream."

He paused to rest the scythe against his shoulder, eyes following a line of clouds rolling across the sky. "But it isn't like that. There's no glory out there. Just smoke, screams, and too many people who never make it home. Most of the time, no one even remembers why it started. You fight for a banner, a cause, a name, and when it ends, nothing really changes. They call it peace, but it never lasts very long."

He sighed and gave a tired half smile. "I'd rather be here now, cutting grass instead of people. It's quiet, and it feels real. You work, you see what you've done, and it makes sense. That's something the wars never seem to do."

He dragged the blade through another patch of grass, the motion slow and thoughtful. "Sometimes I think the galaxy would be better off if everyone spent a season like this. Just listening to the wind, feeling the dirt under their hands. Maybe then they'd remember that life's worth more than the reasons people find to end it."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Braze​

He straightened, brushed his gloves clean, and stepped closer, gaze drawn to the line of clouds Braze had been watching. "When I was Chandrilla, there was a night we had to fall back through a field like this. The tall grass, burning in patches, smoke thick enough to choke on. You couldn't tell friend from foe unless the blade was already swinging. Afterwards, I remember the silence more than the battle."

His eyes lowered again, taking in the rough, uneven soil between them. "You're right. Out there, no one wins no matter what the songs say. But here…" He knelt, pressing his palm flat against the earth. The soil was warm, pulsing faintly with life beneath the surface. "Here, every act leaves something living behind. That's a kind of victory the Order rarely teaches."

He stood again, picking up the shovel and stabbing it into the ground with quiet resolve. "Maybe that's our task now. To remember that the Force isn't just for defending life, it's for tending it."

The shovel bit deep, turning the soil in dark, rich folds. "We'll plant something here." Aiden said, voice steady now, the tone of a promise rather than a plan. "Something that outlasts all the noise. So the next generation has more to grow than we did."


He glanced toward Braze then, a small, sincere smile touching his face. "Besides." he added. "I've seen plenty of heroes. None of them ever made the ground this fertile."

 

[Braze]

Tags: Aiden Porte ​

Braze paused, listening as the man spoke about his past. He glanced back, watching what Aiden was doing.

"Eh… everyone's got an opinion, and everyone's a critic," Braze said with a faint grin. "Speaking of the next generation, do you have a wife? I hear it's quite fashionable for Jedi in this era to have… spawning sessions with their emotional attachments?"

He leaned on the scythe's handle, pressing the blade into the dirt, and gave Aiden a smug smirk, brows lifting in a teasing, exaggerated expression.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Braze​

"Everyone truly does, that's the biggest thing people must take in stride," Aiden smirked as he pushed the shovel in once more. Braze's next question made him chuckle, the humor easing the labor between them.

"I do not have anyone now. I once loved someone, but she was taken from me a few years ago. Things have changed since long ago, and I believe that the Jedi Order's fear of emotional attachments played a role in its downfall and the great purge."

Aiden looked over to him. "What about you, wife, and kids?"

 

[Braze]

Tags: Aiden Porte ​

Braze frowned at what the man said, quietly absorbing the sentiment of loss. He didn't interrupt, only nodded a little as if agreeing before a sudden, undignified snort escaped him. It surprised even him. He laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck feeling a bit akward by his own abrupt response to the questions being turned back on him.

"I'm told I'm still fairly young. No… I don't have a wife or kids," he mused aloud, returning to his work and cutting away swaths of grass from his path with slow, steady motions.

"Love is a funny thing. Makes people do all kinds of crazy stuff because of how they feel." His voice softened, the thought turning inward. "There is a girl I like, but I'm not sure if I like her as a partner… or as my closest friend. I love her, but it's this nebulous kind of love. Not the sort that pulls on desire or lust.... I do think she's beautiful... but don't think she and I are... compatable across species... ya know?" He shrugged a shoulder lightly. "It feels more wholesome than that."

He paused, trimming another patch of overgrowth before speaking again.

"I have a student now. I suppose that's kinda like having a kid, right?" He smiled faintly at the thought. "But I feel more like an older brother than a parent to him. We're only about four years apart… which sounds small but right now it feels like we're worlds apart. Even though somehow we still fit into the same sort of interests."

He sighed, but it was warm this time rather than weary.

"I'm not really sure how to be a good role model the way a parent should be. But I'm trying my best to be a good teacher… to offer help and guidance where I can."

 

[Aiden Porte]

Braze​

Aiden chuckled softly at Braze's sudden laugh, it was the kind of sound that cut cleanly through the heaviness that had hung between them. He leaned his shovel against the ground, arms folding loosely over the handle as he listened. The conversation had drifted from war and work to love and mentorship so naturally it almost startled him. The galaxy's biggest truths always seemed to hide in quiet talks like this.

"I think," Aiden said at last, his voice thoughtful but kind, "That love rarely fits into any one shape. It's not supposed to. The kind you're describing, something steady, genuine, without demand, that's rare. Maybe rarer than the romantic kind. It's the kind that endures when all the fire burns out."

He stooped again, loosening a rock from the soil with his hands before tossing it aside. The motion gave him a moment to choose his next words. "And as for your student…" He smiled faintly. "That's its own kind of love too. Maybe not parental, maybe not brotherly, but something close to both. Responsibility, care, belief. Those things bind people as tightly as blood ever could."

He began to work beside Braze again, matching the slow rhythm of the scythe with the scrape of his shovel. "When I took my first Padawan, I was terrified. Thought I'd fail him before I began. But the truth is… you don't have to be perfect. You just have to show up, listen, guide, admit when you're still learning too. That's how they learn what kind of person to become."

He paused, brushing a streak of dirt from his forearm, eyes catching the shimmer of sunlight through the tall grass. "You're already doing it, Braze. You're teaching by example. Not through grand speeches, but through the way you live, honest work, quiet integrity, compassion that doesn't need to announce itself."

Then, with a small grin, he added, "And for what it's worth…if the galaxy had more Jedi who understood that love isn't a distraction from duty, but another form of it, we'd be a lot closer to balance."

 

[Braze]

Tags: Aiden Porte​

"Rare, huh?" He let out a slow, soft sigh and looked away. Was giving genuine love like that really a rare thing? He wondered how most people gave love, if there was truly a difference between romantic love and something more eternal. It certainly seemed that way, considering how many holo shows revolved around those questions.

The more he thought about it, the more he supposed it was true, especially when he considered how many people struggled to find partners through casual meetings and instead resorted to less face to face ways of finding someone interesting. Love seemed to come in so many shapes and forms, all of them different. He had never really stopped to think about how or why it was different for everyone. Not everyone had the same needs or desires.

Perhaps he was still too innocent to really understand the more complex weave of things. His first instinct was always to give love openly and freely to others, to trust too fully and too completely, far too soon. He did wonder if that just made him a strange outlier compared to others.

He shifted his grip on the scythe, eyes dropping back to the soil between them.

"Is it really that rare," he asked quietly, "to just care about people without wanting anything back?"

 

[Aiden Porte]

Braze​

"It shouldn't be rare," he said. "But it is."


He leaned on the shovel, the wood creaking faintly under his grip. "Most people start out that way, open, trusting, wanting to give without keeping score. Then life teaches them to guard that part of themselves. Some get hurt and decide it's safer to love conditionally, to offer affection only where it feels 'earned.' Others stop believing that kind of love even exists."

Aiden's gaze softened as he looked at Braze again. "You still have that instinct to give freely. That's not naïveté, Braze, that's strength. The galaxy makes cynics far easier than it makes healers."

He moved to the next furrow, driving the shovel deep, speaking as he worked. "Caring without expectation doesn't make you strange. It makes you whole. It means you still see worth in others even when the galaxy doesn't always see it in itself. That's what the Force is at its core, a current that gives, endlessly, without needing to be repaid."

He turned over another patch of soil, the scent of earth rising between them. "If everyone could hold onto even a fraction of that, maybe we'd spend less time rebuilding after wars and more time making sure there's something beautiful left to protect."

 

[Braze]

Tags: Aiden Porte ​

Braze's face twisted into an odd expression, something caught between sour confusion and thoughtful hesitation as he considered what Aiden had said.

"Eh… everyone has value. I think too many people sell themselves short because they get stuck staring at the small picture. They forget to step back and take it all in. I mean really take it in, really absorb the fact that we are nothing more than a speck of stardust floating through the vast ether of space."

He let out a soft sigh and gave a loose shrug, his hands returning to the work he had been doing.

"A lot of the older texts I read talk about discouraging attachments. I can understand why. Attachments can turn... selfish. They can become greedy or possessive, and that is in some ways the same slope that leads people toward the dark side. But I think… it does not have to be like that."

He paused for a moment, his voice trailing off as his thoughts caught on something deeper he had not quite put into words yet.

"It is just exceptionally hard for people to come to terms with the possibility that attachment can exist without trying to... own something. Caring for someone without needing to control them… that is the difficult part."

Braze's fingers slowed as he worked, his expression softening into a semblance of reflection before he continued his task.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Braze​

Aiden's hands stilled again, this time, not out of weariness, but respect for the thought that hung between them. The steady rhythm of their work had quieted into something almost reverent. Even the breeze seemed to hush for a moment, letting Braze's words settle into the soil like seeds waiting to take root.

He brushed the dirt from his palms and looked across the clearing at the younger man. "You've seen farther than most," he said finally, voice quiet but sure. "The Order used to teach that attachment leads to suffering. But I've come to believe it's not the attachment itself, it's the fear of losing it. Fear twists love into possession, into something brittle. But when you care without fear, without demand, it becomes something else. Something freeing."

He crouched down, running his fingers through the loosened earth. The dark soil crumbled and fell between them, fine as ash and full of life. "The Force binds everything, but it doesn't own what it connects. It doesn't tell the wind where to go or the roots how deep to reach, it just lets them be part of the same whole. Maybe that's what you're talking about. Connection without control."

Aiden's gaze drifted up toward the distant sky, where clouds shifted lazily against the afternoon light. "I used to think detachment was strength," he admitted. "But it only made me hollow. You can't defend life if you can't feel it. Can't protect people if you don't love them in some way. The balance isn't in shutting out what we feel, it's in feeling without trying to cage it."

He looked back to Braze then, a faint, understanding smile tugging at the edge of his expression. "You're right, it is hard. But you're already walking that path. You care deeply, without needing to claim anything in return. That's not weakness, Braze. That's mastery."

He picked the shovel back up, digging the blade into the soil again with slow, grounding rhythm. "Maybe the Jedi lost their way not because they felt too much… but because they forgot how to feel without fear."