Faction The Prodigal Padawan

[Cerys Dyn]

She had pleaded her case. Sought forgiveness. And now she stood before the council chamber, staring at the narrow crack where the doors would, she hoped, soon part...and the council would bid her return to the Order's fold.

Every second that passed stretched into an eternity.

If she could rewrite the last several months, Cerys would. She would have handled the revelation of her former Oathwarden master's true nature with more composure. The news of her parentage had shaken her profoundly. She had recoiled, denied the truth of Master En-Vala’s role as her mother, and fled into the galaxy in search of another master within the Oathwarden Order.

If that had been all she’d done, perhaps her request to return would raise less concern.

But it was not all she had done.

No. What she had done was far worse than fearing the truth and running. She had abandoned Brandyn, left Balun and their team of Republic intelligence operatives stranded amid a Sith ambush. While their lives hung in the balance, her thoughts had turned only to faking her death and escaping.

It was more than hope that kept her eyes fixed on the crack in the doors. Shame rooted her in place. Shame for believing anyone would support a deserter. Shame for thinking herself worthy of forgiveness. Shame for the un-Jedi path she had trodden, for the darkness she had flirted with.

Cerys watched the door, silently pleading that they would let her stay, and praying she could find some sliver of herself worthy of returning.

@Open​

 

[Ala Quin]

It was mostly relief that Ala felt. Relief for the padawan's safe return. Despite Balun's insistence that Cerys had survived the Black Sun ambush, Cerys Dyn had officially been listed as presumed dead, and the Order had not expended precious resources to find her.

She was more than happy to have been proven wrong. Cerys was safe. Safe was good.

When the door hissed closed behind the Togruta, Ala turned to the other council members. "I am of the opinion that mercy be granted in this case, with conditions...but if you have any problem with leniency in this matter, please speak up. Any consequences you see as necessary, I welcome your input."

For all the seriousness of the situation, an idea had latched onto Ala's innate mischief and it was not letting go.

| Tag: @Council |​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE PRODIGAL PADAWAN
INVENTORY: Jedi Robes | Lightsaber & K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Ala Quin | Cerys Dyn

If Balun had expected a hero's welcome, this wasn't it.

The Jedi Council were in the next room, the chambers where the greatest among the Masters deliberated over the Order's current and future actions, were today focusing on what to do about Cerys Dyn. It didn't feel like a victory for Balun and didn't replicate the image of a welcoming home he had pictured in his head. This was the standard procedure, he supposed, but he couldn't help but feel some of the tension Cerys currently bore on her shoulders.

He had successfully infiltrated an Imperial compound in the midst of a battlefield to free Cerys Dyn from captivity, undetected by the Imperials within, and then retrieved her Lightsaber, managing to get out in time for the Republic Fleet to pick them up before the war was over.

There had been no mission, no official orders. Hell, it was almost like the Order had written her off as lost, but he had refused to believe it, and against his Master's cautioning, Balun had pursued any hint of information about her whereabouts along the way.

He had found her on Genarius, yet she had evaded him during a battle against the Sith-Imperials. Perhaps most would have taken her evasion as a clear sign of not wanting to be found, but Balun had been stubborn for answers. To at least know she was safe, regardless of whether or not the Order was to be her home.

Hosnian Prime had been a fluke incident, a lucky break when he had sensed her presence during the strike, and now they were back on Naboo within the heart of the Jedi Order, and Balun stood with his back to the corridor wall, watching Cerys quietly fretting over the coming answer of the Jedi Council.

Her anxiety was understandable. He couldn't be sure how many in the Order were privy to where Cerys had gone, what she had experienced since leaving the strike team on Sarko IV, but Balun had heard rumours. The Blackwall, at one stage, was accompanied by his Master's deep concern that he might take into Sith Territory in order to go looking for Cerys. Perhaps Ala Quin hadn't thought it likely, but here and now, Balun felt good that he had done all that he could to ensure a positive outcome.

Cerys was here, safe among friends, or perhaps in her mind, Allies was the better term. She could decide to make of her future, whatever she saw fit, without anyone needing to worry for her safety and well-being. Out of captivity, away from Sith influence. Here, where she was cared for and appreciated, regardless of whether or not she accepted the truth.

Jedi Master: Ala Quin
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Casaana]

Cerys Dyn | Ty'Raj Vex | Balun Dashiell | Ala Quin

Pulling temple duty was always a drag, sure there was always something going on, but it meant stopping whatever she was working on and figuring it out for the day. Probably helped with diplomacy and just the smooth running of the temple as a whole, but the young Padawan thought of it as a huge distraction from whatever work or lesson she was currently immersing herself with. Which this week was preparing for the upcoming Festival of Light. It seemed like half the planet had taken up with the idea, a break from the gloom of endless galactic setbacks and a chance to enjoy and hope. Casaana had been seated at the reception desk going over various recipes while trying to think of ways to make them more Naboo-like or representative of other planets in the High Republic when the quiet was interrupted by someone walking across the stone entryway. Looking up at the newcomer, she was greeted with a large older man dark hair shot through with twin white streaks extending down from his temples to frame his face and fall down his shoulders. To the Padawan, he looked like an adventure from one of the fantasy holos.

And that was how Casaana found herself escorting Ty'Raj Vex through the halls of the temple and towards the council chambers. After verifying he was a Jedi with the database, of course. "Do you have a sword?" She asked him, before continuing without giving him much of a chance to answer. "Because you look like someone who would have one. Not a lightsaber I mean, because everyone does, but like made of metal and stuff?" It was simply her latest line of questioning that had been going on for the last few minutes of their walk as she talked around the lollipop stick poking out of her mouth. "Anyways, if you do, Imma need that, and your blaster before you go in to see the council. Sorta a 'why would you need it' thing to go in armed. This is a no fighting place, but you keep your saber. We all have one." She shrugged and switched which cheek her candy was resting in with a flick of her tongue.

Approaching the closed double doors that led into the Council Room, Casaana jumped from talking to Ty'Raj over to Cerys almost mid-sentence. "You're going to have to wait a bit before being called. Hey Cerys, still waiting on your thing?" She offered the older Padawan (who was taller than her, but only because montrals were cheating) a bright smile while holding another sucker out to her. "I'm sure it'll be okay. I started a fire in the dormitories and only got a stern lecture and a few weeks of extra duties." As an aside to Ty'Raj, she added, "We're not allowed to work on combustion engines in our rooms anymore. Or maybe that's just me? Anyways, there's a rule about it now. On the bright side, I figured out what was wrong with it!"

 

[Ty'Raj Vex]

Casaana Balun Dashiell Cerys Dyn

Vex was not comfortable in settings this polished; that much was clear in the way he kept to himself while following after the youngling, letting her chatter fill the space between them. His good eye shifted toward the sticky-fingered child, and he made little effort to hide the mild disdain that touched his expression at the sight of the sweet and the mess it threatened to leave behind.

"Do you always ask strangers about their blades?" His pale gaze shifted briefly toward the council doors, then back again. "That's not a wise habit to keep... Not every stranger will take kindly to it, and likely one day you'll ask the wrong man.... I'm not here to start trouble," he said. "But I don't hand over a weapon in a place I don't know... If your council won't see me armed, they can tell me that themselves."

The dryness in his voice sat somewhere between amusement and disbelief as he listened to the sticky fingered youth.

"I'll keep it in mind… and try to remember I'm not letting you anywhere near an engine unsupervised. Starting a fire in the dormitories and calling it a learning experience is a… bold strategy, Padawan. I won't ask what else you've tried to repair in your room."

Then his gaze moved toward Cerys by the doors, and some of that rough humor faded.

"You waiting to be called in?" he asked, softer now. "That waiting part's usually worse than the conversation itself."