Private The Weight of Return

[Lorn Reingard]

​

The shuttle was old, discreet, and comfortably forgettable, the way Lorn liked all his rides now. No gleaming Naboo silver, no polished accents. Just durasteel and carbon scoring, weathered by time and mediocre maintenance. It didn't attract attention, and more importantly, it didn't reflect anything.

Lorn toggled through the startup diagnostics for the fourth time in as many minutes, fingers dancing across the controls with that quiet impatience particular to men who would rather be anywhere else. A few red indicators blinked at him, meaningless ones. He let them blink.

The robe he wore hung from his frame like the ghosts of too many uniforms. Brown, coarse, fraying at the cuffs. Symbolic, probably, in the way all these Jedi things were. But he didn't feel like a symbol, and hadn't for years. He was just a man in a robe, parked in the shadows at the edge of a hangar no one cared to patrol, waiting on a stranger he might be expected to raise into a better version of himself.

Again.

His breath fogged against the small viewport. He stared through it at nothing. Just a sliver of Naboo sky gone gray with dusk. No sign of the Padawan. Maybe they'd chickened out. Wouldn't be the first. One had bailed mid-lightsaber lesson after Lorn barked at them to stop apologizing. Another had cried after three hours in the jungle. The last had tried to psychoanalyze him.

He'd offered that one a ride back home.

This wasn't what he wanted. Lorn didn't want to shape anyone. He was half-shaped himself, cracked down the middle like a clay sculpture dropped and awkwardly glued together. Jedi were supposed to inspire. He inspired trauma responses.

The Council had been subtle. "You're a leader here," they'd said. "You lead the Vanguard." As if trauma leadership and spiritual mentorship were naturally overlapping skillsets.

"You should pass on what you've learned," they said.

"I mostly learned how not to die," he would reply.

And then someone suggested taking a Padawan somewhere meaningful to him. "Build a bond. Let them see who you are."

So he picked Mirater. Because nothing said "ideal bonding experience" like returning to the war-torn mudball where you accidentally buried your youth, mercy-killed your mentor, and watched your ex become the face of the enemy war machine.

Lorn leaned back in the pilot's chair and ran a hand through his hair. That was the perk of being the most functional wreck in a broken order.

This wasn't about legacy. Or duty. Or healing. This was about Isla.

She was out. Alive. Barely. He had rescued her just in time. And now he was trying to build something. A way out for others. A map for the lost ones who still walked in shadow.

He didn't need a Padawan for that. But maybe the Order did. And maybe, if he did this right… some part of his story might stop ending in fire.

The shuttle beeped once. A soft proximity alert. Someone was approaching.

Lorn sighed. He reached for the ramp controls, eyes narrowing.

"Let's see how long you last," he muttered.

Aileni Ifor Xeraic​

 

[Aileni Ifor Xeraic]

Location: Naboo
Attire: Large brown hoodie, grey shirt
Equipment: Dathomiri Energy Bow, Practice Lightsaber
Tag: Lorn Reingard

His request for a Master had finally been responded to, he was meant to be meeting a Jedi by the name of Lorn Reingard. It was someone that was interesting since he was considered a higher ranking member of the Jedi Order so Aileni thought that there would be a lot of high expectations and demands for Aileni to achieve. It was going to be intense but something in Aileni thought the idea of a challenge could be fun, things had been pretty easy and casual at the moment. He was easily over achieving in his current lessons, with his knowledge in combat forms and the Force far exceeding his peers who joined the Order at a similar time frame to himself.

They were set to meet up at the hangar, Aileni was going to be travelling off somewhere, he hadn't remembered what the planet's name was since he had gotten a little too excited at the idea of finally having a Jedi Master. So, his attention was not fully on everything being said. It was fortunate that he remembered the location to meet and the time, that was something he had to double check and be told a couple times before he left the room with the instructor who informed him of the meeting.

Arriving at the hangar, Aileni had his Dathomiri traditional energy bow that he carried with him everywhere since he had constructed on Dathomir. He had been given a training saber to use until the construction of his own Lightsaber, giving him a chance to practice his skills and to use in case he came into any danger. His bright green eyes flickered up to the window where the cockpit was and spotted the mentor he was potentially studying under, there was a roughness to him from what Aileni could see. An unrefined edge that made Aileni smirk.

Could be interesting to see how he handled the Night Wolf.

Stepping onto the ship, Aileni made his way to the cockpit, "Aileni Xeraic. Guessing you must be Master Lorn?" He questioned as he shifted to the passenger seat.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Lorn didn't look up right away when the kid stepped in, Aileni, apparently. The name landed in his memory like a bookmark someone else placed. He flicked a glance in the viewport, confirming the boy's reflection: young, sharp-eyed, carrying himself with that dangerous mix of pride and promise. Great. One of those.

Instead of acknowledging him immediately, Lorn finished plotting the jump sequence. A few more quiet inputs, and the shuttle's aging frame groaned into action, lifting from the hangar floor with a judder and a rising hum that filled the silence. The controls blinked green. Autopilot engaged. He leaned back.

Then he finally turned.

"Just Lorn will do, Aileni."

His voice was calm, steady in that way soldiers sometimes are, like every word has to be earned before it's spoken. He studied the boy a beat longer, head tilted slightly, then added:

"Your mother is Dreidi, correct?"

It wasn't a question so much as a formality. The name was well known to him. He rubbed the corner of his eye, exhaling through his nose.

"You're probably wondering why we're headed for a planet that is rather unknown." he said. "The short version? It's called Mirater. Feudal. Divided. Hostile. Full of Force-sensitives, a good number of whom never get off-world because the local warlords treat them like property."

He gestured loosely toward the stars now inching past the viewport.

"I've seen what happens to those kids when nobody comes for them. So we're building a way out, a path. Sanctuary on Naboo, training with Shirayan Jedi, access to a future that doesn't involve servitude or violence."

His gaze returned to Aileni, a flicker more focused.

"I rescued someone from there recently. My daughter. She was... lost. The kind of lost the dark side makes permanent. She's out now, but barely. I don't plan on waiting around while the next generation burns up the same way."

A moment passed. The hum of the ship filled the space between them like static on a broken comm.

"I'm not the kind of Jedi who teaches forms and quotes scripture," Lorn said plainly. "You'll get plenty of that from the rest of the Council. I take people where they're needed, and sometimes we bleed for it."

He gestured toward the passenger seat, finally giving something that almost resembled a smile, but it was thin and tired. The kind of smile a man uses when he remembers how to do it but doesn't feel like putting his back into it.

"So. Let's get it out of the way. What are you looking for in a teacher?"

He paused, eyes narrowing slightly in amusement. "And try not to say 'wisdom' or 'enlightenment.' I've got a lifetime supply of disillusionment, though, if you're interested."

Aileni Ifor Xeraic​

 

[Aileni Ifor Xeraic]

Location: Naboo
Attire: Large brown hoodie, grey shirt
Equipment: Dathomiri Energy Bow, Practice Lightsaber
Tag: Lorn Reingard

Aileni took in the sequences that Lorn did to get the navigation course set as well as bringing the ship to life, it seemed that this ship was old not just in appearances but in action as well. It was strange since Aileni figured a Jedi Master would want to ensure their ship was something much more reliable to prevent failures at critical moments. However, he did not voice his concerns over the health of the ship, Aileni knew that he was still pretty new to this life and he was striving to make at least some positive impression by the end of this meeting.

"Okay, Just Lorn." There was a dry sarcastic tone, attempting to get a smile or groan from Lorn, cracking the very serious and tense exterior that Lorn was currently demonstrating. This was meant to be a mentorship between the two so Aileni figured having a bit of fun would be something that could take place. When asked about his mother, he nodded his head, "yeah. Guessing you know her then." Aileni wasn't too sure how well known his mother was outside of those he had grown up around.

Tilting his head, he looked over to Lorn when informed about the world that they would be travelling to, "why don't you just kill the warlords there? Isn't it our job to stop oppression and prevent harm to innocent people? Why allow the bad guys live unpunished?" Aileni asked, puzzled on why something like this would be simply allowed to continue, surely it was their duty to end the evils in the galaxy. And killing them was a sure fire way to ensure it was not allowed to continue.

When asked about what he wanted from a Master, Aileni leaned back in the seat and paused, thinking deeply about what he wanted. "I don't think I need a mentor fixated on correcting my forms and techniques, apparently I am more advanced than some tutors assumed I would be." There was no bragging in his tone, simply stating his thoughts aloud. "I do want to know what it means to be a Jedi, not the words or the philosophies but seeing, doing, enacting those ideals in practice. I also want to figure out where I place in the galaxy as a Jedi." Aileni mentioned, not sure if that would be a good explanation.

"What are you expecting me to do as your student? I mean if you aren't training me in a tradition sense, what should I be expecting?" Aileni asked, figuring he needed to know what he was going to be getting into with this mentor.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Lorn didn't groan at the dry jab. But there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, a muscle tugging like it remembered what smiling used to feel like before it got drafted into a war.

He let the kid talk. Better to let them fill the air with questions and bravado before the galaxy gave them answers they didn't like.

When Aileni asked about killing the warlords, Lorn's expression didn't change, but his posture did, just a slight lean forward, forearms resting on his knees, fingers laced. A position he'd sat in too many times at too many campfires, watching too many soldiers burn from the inside out.

"You kill a warlord," he said quietly, "and the people pay the price."

He looked out the viewport, but he wasn't seeing stars anymore. He was seeing scorched fields. Torn banners. A hundred villages where the smoke never stopped rising.

"They don't fall quietly. You hit one, they hit ten civilians for every inch they lose. Retaliation, terror, punishment. Doesn't matter what you meant to do, what matters is who bleeds after. And those people? They're not soldiers. They're farmers. Traders. Kids. People who get caught in someone else's vendetta."

He paused.

"I've lived long enough to know that justice isn't always swift. Sometimes, it's slow. Strategic. Boring. And yeah, sometimes it feels like cowardice when you've got the power to end it all with a saber swing."

Lorn didn't say the rest. That one of those warlords wore a face he once dreamed of often. That her voice still haunted the quiet hours. That he didn't know what would happen if she stood between him and peace.

He let the silence linger before addressing the rest.

"'More advanced than expected,' huh?" he said, a dry note in his tone. "Congratulations. You've joined the exclusive club of talented teenagers who don't yet understand how little that matters when the blasters start flying."

But there was no venom in it. Just truth.

"You want to see what it means to be a Jedi? Good. Because you will. We'll walk into situations where there's no clean answer, no elegant solution. And you'll learn, through failure, mostly, what it means to hold the line anyway. You'll see what happens when you do everything right, and people die anyway. You'll make peace with that, or you won't."

He glanced sideways at the boy, eyes sharp now, jutting, not unkind, just measuring.

"As my student? You listen. You learn. You carry the weight, and you don't flinch. I won't test your footwork in a training room, I'll test it on a battlefield. I'll expect you to keep civilians alive before you try to impress me with some saber spin. And if you disobey an order because you think you're smarter than the people who've survived longer than you've been alive... I'll send you back to the Temple and let them lecture you into submission."

He leaned back again, the ghost of that half-smile surfacing once more.

"You asked what I expect. I expect you to earn your place in the galaxy. And to understand that sometimes, being a Jedi means standing between monsters and innocents... even if the monster used to be someone you loved."

That last part came out quieter. Almost too quiet. Then Lorn stood and walked toward the back of the shuttle.

"Get some rest. We're landing in twelve hours. And Mirater doesn't care how advanced you are."

Aileni Ifor Xeraic​

 

[Aileni Ifor Xeraic]

Location: Naboo
Attire: Large brown hoodie, grey shirt
Equipment: Dathomiri Energy Bow, Practice Lightsaber
Tag: Lorn Reingard

Aileni's eyes caught the faint twitch, his joke had worked just enough so he was pleased with himself. There was a crack and Aileni knew he could break it further open, making sure that the seriousness of Lorn was not all there was to the man. It was important to have fun and be silly at times. That was something his mother instilled into Aileni and he was grateful for that. She always knew how to have fun and play games so Aileni was keen to keep that going, to keep having fun and encouraging others to be silly with him. Especially when they were holding such serious exteriors.

He shook his head, "you misunderstand me." Aileni stated coolly with no real concern about the topic, "killing one is not what I meant. Kill all the warlords on Mirater. Make them realise that those not on the world realise that they will never and cannot profit in a war against us. What is the point of a Jedi if we allow people to suffer? You take time, people die in that time, people suffer and those Force Sensitive fuel the Dark Side, influenced by the draw of quick power. You create more Sith, more enemies by taking a slower approach." Aileni stated, his plan was not perfect and would not save all the lives potentially but it offered hope, possibility of freedom in everyone's lifetime on that world.

"I was born on Dathomir, I lived my life dealing with danger, training to fight beasts you don't know about and seeing things in the Force you cannot envision." The witches held power that no Jedi could wield, not even the Sith matched a witch elder in Aileni's mind. "Just because I am young, because I have not fought in your battles, does not mean I have no experience or do not have a voice that should be heard." There was life long forgotten in Aileni's eyes, a wisdom that surpassed his few years and then it faded away as the teenager turned away from Lorn.

Aileni snorted at the comment of being sent back to the temple for disobeying orders, "blinding following orders without self thought or the ability to disobey is the programming of droids. Just because people have survived longer than I have been born does not mean they know more than me, does not mean by plans are any less valid than theirs. They could be blinded by being too invested, ignoring a wider picture of things that takes fresh eyes, a fresh perspective. I follow orders I agree with and that make sense, I disobey orders that will endanger lives when there is a better alternative to saving them." Aileni would never stop trying to save people, even if it went against orders and it did not matter who he was with.

The teenager was stubborn beyond belief but he was convicted and calm during this discussion. He was setting his boundaries and ensuring that Lorn understood his reasoning.

"Of course it doesn't. But you should, if you are willing to take an untrained, unskilled person into a warzone. Then you need to be taken off the battlefield." Aileni warned Lorn, his statements about his skills was to soothe any fears he could not handle himself in a fight but if this Jedi did not care about that. Then if someone less skilled than Aileni was joining him, Lorn could get them murdered and that was something Aileni would not excuse.

He moved out of the seat and walked away, it was a good time to meditate until they arrived. He was not going to hover around Lorn.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

​

Lorn didn't look at him as the boy spoke, talked, challenged, sermonized. He stood there, still and quiet, like a boulder being pelted with pebbles. And like a boulder, he didn't flinch. But something in his jaw tightened. His shoulders drew in, just slightly.

He let it happen.

There was a time, long ago, when he'd have cut someone off at the first sign of arrogance. Back when Soloman was alive and Lorn still had illusions about discipline meaning something. He would've barked, lectured, maybe even snapped.

Now?

Now he just watched the fire burn itself out.

When Aileni turned away and marched off to meditate, Lorn exhaled through his nose. Not a sigh. A release. He stayed still a moment longer, then turned to the opposite end of the shuttle and sat down, elbows on his knees, eyes on the deck plating.

Just a kid. Brave. Convicted. Smart. Too smart, maybe. But still a kid. And Lorn knew from brutal, personal experience that the galaxy would burn that fire down eventually. The question was whether he'd help him bank it into something useful, or just be another reason he burned.

Twelve Hours Later

The hum of the hyperdrive dropped into a whine as the shuttle jolted slightly, reverting to realspace. The air shimmered with atmospheric pressure. Outside the viewport: a world carved into jagged coastlines and broken mountain ranges, ringed in storm clouds that never quite cleared.

Mirater.

Lorn stood, stretched his neck until it cracked, then moved down the narrow aisle of the shuttle. He stopped beside the meditating figure and nudged him, not gently, with the toe of his boot.

"We're here," he muttered, voice dry. "Try not to spook the locals with too much prophecy and enlightenment. They're simple people."

He turned before Aileni could fire back and lowered the ramp with a flick of his wrist. The hiss of decompression was followed by the acrid scent of smoke and damp earth. The air was heavy with rain that hadn't fallen yet, and the ground outside was a patchwork of overgrown landing pads, moss-choked ruins, and thick jungle crawling in from the edges.

Lorn stepped out onto the stone, hand resting near his saber, not out of fear, just reflex. Habitual caution. His eyes scanned the horizon, landing briefly on the distant shape of a stone watchtower, long abandoned, now repurposed for their first meeting.

He turned slightly toward Aileni without fully facing him.

"Mission's simple. We're meeting with three representatives from neighboring clans, ones open to negotiation. They want safe passage for their Force-sensitive youth. We're giving it. They give us information in return. Routes, safe houses. Maybe more."

His tone flattened slightly.

"If they show."

Lorn's hand brushed the worn edge of his robe. He didn't look at Aileni when he added, "You can tell them about that whole... Kill all the warlords plan. I'm sure they hadn't thought of that one yet."

Then he started walking, cloak trailing behind, into the jungle path.

The monsters were already watching.

Aileni Ifor Xeraic​