Private The Search For a Rescuer

[Arlow Vex]

Kyric

Fondor. One of the current beating hearts of Galactic Civilization. It was a far cry from the agrarian backwater where she had spent her childhood. It was also very different from the Jedi Temple, with its carefully-crafted serenity and surrounding wilderness, where she had spent the past three years studying the foundations of the Force. As her transport shuttle made its final descent towards the brightly-lit world, she decided to take a moment to reflect upon what had brought her to this exact place in space and time.

Arlow Veth, aspiring Jedi Padawan, had come from humble beginnings. The first decade and change of her life had spent unaware of her connection to the Force, living an average life in a small city on a forgettable world. Then, something happened that she would never forget. Disaster. An enormous Groundquake that shattered everything she'd held dear -including her family. Though after her recovery, she had tried to eke out a living in the planetary capital with her aunt and uncle, Arlow knew her life had been fundamentally changed. The worst moment of her life had revealed that she had great power within her, and she knew in her core that she had a sacred duty to use it to help those who were scared and helpless in the face of something much bigger than themselves, just as she had been. So, with the blessings of what was left of her family, Arlow had departed to seek training in the ways of the Force.

The past three years had been spent studying with uncommon focus for one of her limited years. While Arlow's peers got caught sneaking out to use their incredible cosmic powers to perpetuate a prank war, she had snuck into the training room to practice lifting heavy objects with the Force. Where others skivved off homework to frolic in river waters, Arlow buried her nose in datapads and Holocrons, diving deep into the vast body of technical knowledge the Jedi had compiled on the Laws of Physics -and how they could be skirted and manipulated with enough practice, power, and focus. Such habits made Arlow very few friends, but it did make her an extraordinarily knowledgeable and competent young woman. Though she was only sixteen, there was nothing more she could gain from remaining at the Temple with the other Initiates. It was now time to expand her knowledge through other means: Arlow needed a Master.

When Arlow heard of the collection of heroes who had bravely defended and fought for the lives of the people of Hanna City, Arlow had known exactly what she needed to do. She scoured the Holonet for every article and scrap of news she could about the various forces which had converged in the enormous act of good, and memorized every detail she could about their Champions. According to what she had manage to glean, at least one such hero was located on Fondor. So, gearing herself up with every (extremely practical) object she owned, Arlow had booked passage to the large, important world.

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Stepping carefully through the crowded streets, Arlow closed her eyes and allowed herself to be guided by The Force. She had trained herself rigorously in this particular skill, keen on being able to locate sentient presences obscured from technological detection due to rubble or ionic interference. Finding and tracking the shining, highly-trained beacons that were the most accomplished Jedi on the planet was child's play. Steps sure, she opened her eyes to see a lone man dressed in an atypical way for such a sprawling, important city. His clothing also did not resemble that of any Jedi she had ever seen. She... could not even find signs of a lightsaber on his person, usually a dead giveaway that an individual was, in fact, a member of a Force-empowered Order. There was nothing else for it. As was the theme of the rest of her journey, Arlow simply had to take a chance. A deep, calming breath. A few rubs on her worry stone. Then, with cautious hope, she spoke.

"Are you... Kyric? Kyric Karis, one of the Jedi Heroes of Hanna City?"

 

[Kyric]

Gray clouds stretched over Fondor City, capital of the Galactic Alliance's seat of intergalactic power. Vast shipyards orbiting the planet peeked out from behind the cloud covering, visible even from the busy streets below. Business boomed within the city following the fall of the Deep Core. War hawks and merchants alike worked in tandem to prepare for the next assault, forging arms and armaments within local factories, while new ships were constructed overhead. It was a far cry from the height of the Alliances power, but many who still remember the One Sith's occupation of the Core pushed forward tirelessly.

No one wanted to feel the crushing weight of Sith-Imperial control again.

Upon this particular day, Kyric wandered the streets for mundane purposes. His most recent travels saw his old X-Wing damaged enough to require a new power coupling. It wasn't the cheapest expenditure, so the kiffar hit the streets around the Space Port in search of an old shop recommended to him by his younger brother Damien.

A steady rain began to fall not long after Kyric departed from the New Jedi Order's headquarters. The tattered black cloak fitted over his lithe frame drummed softly with each drop, the sound both steady and soothing to him. He focused on it as he wandered in search of the shop. Rain collected within his hair and rolled down his scarred visage, sending goosebumps over his body in a wave of tingling static. Rarely could he find a moment of peace with the many conflicts raging across the Alliance. He gave himself to that peace and drifted silently through the rain.

The kiffar paused outside the tiny spare parts shop nestled between one of the towering space port walls and another larger business. He didn't know why, but it felt proper. Above him, a neon sign flashing between yellow and orange spelled out: "Pavo's Parts: Preem Production." The alliteration earned a chuckle from the Jedi Knight.

"I see why Damien stopped in here," Kyric mumbled to himself. He lowered his remaining hand to his side and hooked his thumb on the utility belt hanging low around his hip.

Inches from the doorway, a voice from behind the Jedi Knight caught his attention.

"Are you... Kyric? Kyric Karis, one of the Jedi Heroes of Hanna City?"

"Wha-" Kyric pivoted back to Arlow and met the teenager's questioning look with one of his own. "I 'unno if I'd call me a hero, ma'am. But yeah, sure. I was at Hanna City helpin' with the evac." He gave off the impression of someone caught with his hand caught in the cookie jar, like the act of the identification was more embarrassing than affirming.

"Are you lookin' fer someone? Yer parents, maybe? Or a sibling? I've got folks helpin' re-home the refugees on a few different planets. Maybe I can help ya' find em?"

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Tags: Arlow Vex

 

[Arlow Vex]

"Are you lookin' fer someone? Yer parents, maybe? Or a sibling? I've got folks helpin' re-home the refugees on a few different planets. Maybe I can help ya' find em?"

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Tags: Arlow Vex

Arlow felt the startled man’s words like a physical blow. If he’d meant to cut her to the quick with a single reply, he had accomplished his mission well. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Steady. Maybe, it was already a test?

“If I wanted to visit my parents, I know where they’re buried.” She replied coolly, all emotion in her face or voice shuttered away behind durasteel blast doors of careful control. Then, Arlow relaxed a bit, squared her shoulders, and tried to muster all the height she could from her small frame. (It was not a particularly successful gambit. The older Jedi still practically towered over her shorter form. It did, however, succeed in thawing some of the ice that had frozen over her soul.) The agelessness of her rigidity faded away, and again in her place stood a determined young girl.

“It is exactly such efforts I wish to discuss. If you have continued involvement in them, well, that’s all the better. I am a Jedi in training looking to serve the greater good of the galaxy by being the first set of boots on the ground in an emergency zone. Helping civilians and refugees of such disasters as the one in Hanna City is what I wish to dedicate my life to.“

Thus far, the young girl’s speech had resembled nothing so much as a University student reciting their thesis: all rote memorization, heavily-practiced inflections, and formal language, the whole thing uttered with an underpinning of selling oneself and convincing an authority figure of the value of their ideals. Her next words, however, contained much more heart. And, more tellingly, an obvious thread of fragile, youthful hope.


“So, as someone with great experience in Emergency Response and Rescue matters, I want- rather, I’ve come to ask… would you consider taking me on as your Padawan?”

Nervousness raced through Arlow as she awaited an answer. Her eyes scanned every detail of the rugged man before her for a hint of what he was thinking. Would he accept her as his student? Or would he laugh her off the planet? The man seemed rather inscrutable, but… so far he’d been kind.

She resisted the urge, then, to put a hand to the phantom pain that jolted through her torso, the sight of his permanent injuries sparking a thread of ‘what if’ within her own mind. Already, his appearance caused a sense of kinship to bloom within her. Clearly, he too had faced severe trauma in his relatively short years. Maybe, it was something they could bond over? Ah, but there was no use in making plans for the future. Not yet. Not until she had an answer to her request. Then, and only then, could Arlow plan her next steps. She hoped dearly that it would be figuring out how to settle into new quarters rather than making plans for traveling to find the next hero on her list. She was quite weary from the trip to Fondor, and did not wish to continue her quest any longer that day. She would, of course. Nothing could make her give up on her dream, not even 1,000 refusals from potential Masters! But, it was the principal of the thing. Space travel took it out of anyone. And Arlow could really, really use a nap.

 

[Kyric]

Oof, dead parents.

"Er- my bad, kid," Kyric spoke with an unquestionable sincerity. His hardened visage softened, while his few short words were gentle enough to almost disappear beneath the steady rainfall. Arlow's approach reminded him of his own plea to his Master not long ago. A burning desire to do something—to be something—while the galaxy collapsed beneath the whims of the malign and apathetic. Fueled in part by loss. Strengthened by the hope for a brighter tomorrow.

“So, as someone with great experience in Emergency Response and Rescue matters, I want- rather, I’ve come to ask… would you consider taking me on as your Padawan?”

No part of the kiffar wanted to turn the girl away. The look in her eyes spoke volumes of her desire, and one way or another, she would find someone to take her as a student. It wasn't a question of whether or not she deserved the opportunity, but if Kyric was the best fit to instruct her.

Nefarious forces worked against him. Darth Solipsis and his Galactic Empire wanted him broken and turned to their cause. Bounty Hunters employed by the dreaded Black Sun Syndicate dogged his every step. Kyric knew better than to believe himself strong enough to protect Arlow alone. Not with the odds stacked so highly against him. Was it right to drag her into his father's mess, too?

"C'mon, let's get out of the rain. I saw a café a couple streets back that'll make for a better venue." Kyric motioned Arlow to follow him with his chin. He turned back the way he came, navigating the crowd with the grace of a dancer. The Jedi Knight didn't even brush up against those who walked alongside the pair. Some combination of his presence and his awareness, most likely.

The café boasted the best tea in town if the sign on the glass could be believed. A lack of customers refuted the claim, but the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting through the air promised a delicious treat at the very least.

Kyric chose a table tucked comfortably against the far wall opposite the door. It provided a clear view of the front and rear entrances, as well as the door leading into the kitchen. He flicked his wrist toward one side of the booth, then slid into the seat opposite. A tiny holoprojector built into the center of the table whirred to life within a few seconds. It projected a varied menu of sandwiches, soups, pastries, and teas.

"I'll treat ya'," the Jedi Knight said. "The place ain't all that expensive. Don't stress the cost." He tapped away at the table, sending off his order via the flashing screen constructed into the durasteel.

After Kyric finished ordering, he looked up at Arlow and cleared his throat.

"What's yer name, kid?" Kyric asked. "And why do ya' wanna be a Jedi? There're lots o' ways to do what yer askin' me to train ya' fer. Bein' a Jedi is far from the easiest, I tell ya' what."

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Tags: Arlow Vex

 

[Arlow Vex]

"What's yer name, kid?" Kyric asked. "And why do ya' wanna be a Jedi? There're lots o' ways to do what yer askin' me to train ya' fer. Bein' a Jedi is far from the easiest, I tell ya' what."

Arlow fought down the tentative excitement that was building in her chest as she followed the man to the cozy diner. So far, she hadn’t heard a definite “no”! As they went through the mundane drudgeries of making their orders (Arlow chose a plain, hot tea and a cheap fruity pastry. It wouldn’t do for her potential Master to think her a glutton.), the girl fought the urge to whip out a comb and fix her hair. The way the humid haze of weather was now causing it to frizz into unruly curls set the back of her neck prickling in discomfort. While her visible untidiness set her teeth on edge, it was greatly preferable to the social faux-pas of participating in a personal grooming ritual in the middle of a public restaurant. Just the thought of doing such a thing nearly caused the girl to shudder.

Kyric’s probing words brought Arlow out of her hygienic spiral, her laser focus firmly back on figuring out the correct path through the verbal minefield she had to navigate in order to become one step closer to her dream. So far, it seemed she’d been successful in her gambit, but all it took was one wrong step and she would be back to square one, forced to leave Fondor in disgrace to track down the next potential Master on her list.

Spurned on by some underpinning of intuition Arlow had yet to master, she decided to do something uncharacteristic. She would do the thing that required the most self-centered kind of bravery: peel back her mask of formal bravado and be totally and completely honest with the man sitting across from her.

”I’m… Arlow, Arlow Vex, and I want to be a Jedi because I feel like it’s my responsibility to use the power in the Force I have been given to help others the way I was helped.”

A movement caught at the corner of Arlow’s vision. It was the server, delivering their orders. With a quiet, grateful utterance, the teen reached out and grasped her beverage with an eager hand. Taking a fortifying sip of her tea to steel her nerves, Arlow then gripped the mug in both hands to ground herself in the steady heat. Bravery of this sort was no easy task, and she would take advantage of all the available comforts to ease her way. Another sip, followed by a reflexive swallow that was wholly unnecessary, Arlow took the final, courageous leap.

”When I was a kid… there was an enormous Groundquake that leveled my home. Of my immediate family, I was the only survivor. I was buried in the rubble of our apartment building for over a day. No traditional technology could detect my presence through all the interference. It was only when a Jedi arrived on the scene that they sensed my presence in the Force. I don’t remember much. Just a feeling of recognition, then reassurance. Then, suddenly, I was free. No heavy equipment had dug me out. It was simply the efforts of someone using their Force-Abiliies.”

Arlow took another few gulps up the only-just-not-scorching tea, not daring to even glance at the man across from her to check how he was receiving these revelations at the core of her drive. She knew if she saw any kind of emotion there, she would falter on the spot. No, she couldn’t even peek. This was simply to important. One final sip, and a shuddery breath, and Arlow resumed her tale.

”When I woke up next, I was in a hospital. When the doctors came in with my Aunt and Uncle, I already knew what they were going to say. I’d… felt it. My own power awakening as the building fell allowed me to save my own life, but it also allowed me to feel the end of my parents’. It… it took me months to recover. And even when I did, I was only going through the motions. Not… not living. So, after sulking a little while on a particular day, I went on a walk. One of the public billboards was playing a holovid showing interviews of some of the rescuers on the day of the disaster. The way they talked about what they’d done, how helping others hadn’t been a choice, but a calling, helped me find my own.

I had been granted the kind of power others could only dream of, and what was I using it for? Turning the lights off without getting out of bed. Avoiding people at school who I could feel wanted to ask me questions about the day of the disaster. It was just… wasteful. I was disgusted with myself. That realization snapped me out of the… disconnected? Mmm, disconnected headspace I had fallen into. I went home that day and immediately told my Aunt and Uncle I intended to travel to a Jedi Temple to receive training, and they booked me passage that very night.”

Arlow stood up now, the momentum and unexpected freedom of telling someone her story filled her with a restless energy that all but demanded she move her body in some way. Anxiety gave way to righteous confidence within her soul, and it showed. Her shoulders straightened from their unconscious hunch, and for the first time since she’d begun her tale, her eyes met the one of the man she hoped to soon call ‘Master’.

”So, I guess, to answer your question, I want to be a Jedi because I can. I have the ability and the drive to serve the people of the Galaxy as the first line of defense and aid when things go wrong. I have the chance to join together with a whole Order of individuals who wish to do the same. Who can pass on their skills and experience to me to help me better myself at my own role. Who can lend a hand when even my own might is not enough.

Most importantly, though, I’m the only being in the Galaxy who has the specific power and drive to be the exact kind of Jedi First Responder I want to be. If I don’t follow the path I know in my heart is mine, countless lives I could have saved may be lost. In light of all that, why would I ever want to spend my life doing anything else?”