This Fickle Force

[Tempest Yore]

'The Force is such an amazing thing! What the average person calls a hunch or Intuition, a Jedi identifies as strictly being lead by the Will of the Force. Mere days ago she buried her Master. Yesterday she found herself piloting her Late Master's Yacht passed down to her, en route to attend the Council formation of a new band of Jedi. Today however, she is transporting the Archlord of the Dominion to some planet…to do…a thing there…and he is not bad looking.'

The Force can also seem quite fickle, because Tempest doesn't always get what she wants in life, now that her Adoptive Daddy isn't here to pull strings.

"Erm…" Tempest suffered a momentary deafness as the Archlord first spoke to her. She cannot even remember what he demanded suggested she call him. Luckily for her, she had not bitten her tongue. She swung around the flight seat to face him. "Hey, we are almost there…at…" she had to spin back around to reread the console chart to refresh her memory on where exactly it is they are going…to do a thing there…"Rakata Prime." She did not know what he wanted there. To be honest, she hadn't exactly asked for specifics. Tempest isn't one to get tongue tied, or grow quiet. She is not the shy type in the least, but something about her passenger certainly had gripped hold of her.

'Damn fickle Force! Think of something! Think of something! Think of something! … No; not that! That would sound too stupid!' Of all the millions of things she could have asked the Archlord, over the duration of this entire trip! She had so many questions during the gathering of Jedi, yet nothing made its way now from her brain to the tip of her tongue. How truly epic.

They could talk some more about the Yacht. It really is pretty sleek. Tempest is quite familiar with its controls, it having been her Master's. She could answer most of the Archlord's questions, that is, if there were any topics remaining to discuss about it, that they hadn't already exhausted. Tempest rose from the flight chair only momentarily, to smooth out her hidden petticoat which had ruffled under her tea-length dress as she squirmed in her seat, but smiled. Asking about Rakata Prime could have killed the few obvious moments of absolute dead silence. That really would have been smart, because it wasn't until she located a clearing to touch down, that she fully understood -his probably more than simple hinting,- that she is indeed welcome to accompany him as he fulfills his thing purpose here.

At his offer, Tempest Yore's mouth fell open once again as her eyes sparkled with hopefulness. She had been seeking some sense of purpose, even one short lived, believing one would just fall into her lap!

"The Force is so fickle!" she declared openly now, rising to lead the way to the hatch!




[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The Archlord's reasoning for absconding to Rakata Prime had been kept private.

There was something that awaited him on this world, though what it was could scantly be recalled. Its name was hidden within his late father's notes, and all articles revolving around the planet spoke of forgotten legends and other realms of mystery. It was here that a great war had been brought to an end millennia ago, though he had trouble recalling just why it was fought. As the vessel began to break through the planet's upper atmosphere, he decided the reasoning for that forgotten conflict did not matter.

What did matter was what remained on Rakata Prime. The vessel they flew on had been equipped with the necessary equipment to avoid crashing due to the planet's odd atmosphere, and the approach had been a rather smooth one. On this assignment, Cedric had asked for the company of [member="Tempest Yore"]. She was one of the youngest members of the reforged order, though she carried the title of knight all the same. More importantly, she was utterly unfamiliar with the going-ons of the Dominion's upper echelons.

She was no one's spy, and it was why he'd picked her.

Clad in the armored robes of his position, Cedric had stirred himself from meditation as their vessel landed in the sand of a forgotten beach. His features were youthful and patrician in nature, though the grays of his eyes were cold and calculating. His hair was a raven black in contrast to his pale skin, and kept cut in a military fashion.

As he rose from his chair, he drew his father's mask over his features, hiding his visage behind that of the Archlord.

"Is it truly?" He asked, a hint of amusement lacing his modulated voice. Tempest was unlike most of his companions, though that much intrigued him if nothing else. Hopefully she was as good with a blade as she was with her makeup.

Plate boots sunk into the sand of a warm beach. They had landed upon a particularly large island, and a number of smaller landmasses could be seen in the distance, framed by the clear blue seas all around them. "Welcome to Rakata Prime," he sounded as if he were smiling. "Thank you for coming with me Tempest. Few would have, given how out of the way this place is."

 

[Tempest Yore]

Tempest opened a wall compartment and gripped an oxygen regulator on her way out of the hatch. In her experience with men, they love their suits, capes, and armored masks as much as they love their tech which fashioned them! The voice modulator, she saw as one's preferred detachment from humanity.

'Maybe such persona enhancers make killing easier?' she wondered.

Had she not been a Jedi to identify the Archlord's alliance, she would surely have stumbled in her step upon sight of him because of his sheer power emanating from within him. Somehow though, maybe because of her past associations with Jedi Masters, Tempest feels relaxed around those who most might find intimidating, assured how there is in fact a spiritual being under all that outward hero demigodd enhanced persona. It did help to have seen his face! She obliged that she shan't forget it.

The Knight could not hide a smirk as she passed by him on the ramp. It is always amusing for the young woman to understand full well, how it is a man may fear a little ole female, simply for the perplexity she is capable of causing him, sometimes actually on purpose too. Concerning Tempest, a man does indeed need the use of the Force if he desires to know what she is thinking at times, because no matter his status or station, she won't feel pressured nor inclined to relay her personal thoughts. Stealth is her ally during such situations, hiding her from readability to the degree which she is capable. What man would lead an assault upon a woman's inner thoughts, simply to satisfy his curiosity? If she should sense any signs of perplexity in this one, she would snicker again to herself before moving on.

Tempest quickly took in her surroundings. She loves the ocean, but has respect enough to fear it for its uniqueness. She knows full well that oceans harbor an abundance of unexplored entities. To unwittingly succumb to its lure of peacefulness, and simply step just an ankle into the water, and one could be drug to their death, or at least for one with the Force, suffer a most unpleasant happenstance. Nevertheless, its natural soothing sounds produced, is simply like nothing else in creation.

As he thanked her for coming along with her ship, she replied, "I've no insight as of yet to reason why I've been lead to the Dominion. Your invitation intrigued me." Not just for the mysterious mission, rather than who offered the invitation.

For a moment there he had her wondering the nature of his mission, as he stated, 'Few would have...' A slight pause gave her cause to wonder what dangers exist here. Also, wether or not she will prevail whatever situation should arise without ruining her personal attire as has occurred in the past. But she instantly realized she mistook him, when he continued to comment on how very far they have travelled.

"The Force holds to no boundaries, Archlord. Neither does the inclination to satisfy innate curiosity," she returned, in honesty.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

There was nothing to meet them here, save for the breeze and silence. The only sound came from the waves crashing against the beach in their usual ebb and flow. Whatever might have lived here had either long since vanished, or it had little desire to greet the two Jedi. Cedric couldn't find it in himself to care either way. If the locals ignored them - assuming there were locals - then they would have that much easier of a time perusing the old ruins to the far north.

His attentions shifted to Tempest for a moment, an obvious curiosity to his steel-shrouded faze. She was smirking and snickering to herself, though as to what only the gods knew. With a slight shrug, the youth turned to close up the vessel's gangplank and gestured inland.

"Few people do. We've built an odd thing here, but it's something nonetheless. My parents put everything they had into forging it," a gesture of telekinetic power saw the bridge drawn shut. Their vessel would remain locked for the duration of their stay on Rakata Prime.

"Some look for family, others acceptance. Others still seek power," he lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. "Nothing to be done about it really. All you can really know is that you're here, and we both have a purpose." He gave her a slight nod, sounding as if he were smiling beneath that mask.

"We've a long walk to the ruin. This was as close as I could land us safely." He turned and began to walk up the grassy hills ahead. "Tell me about yourself. I like to know the people I am working with."

[member="Tempest Yore"]

 

[Tempest Yore]

Tempest sensed nostalgia emanate from the Archlord. The Dominion, and something about this planet meant alot to him. Tempest had just come away from a very difficult time in her life, not the first instance either, so she hadn't yet actually evaluated what she took away from her recent circumstance. She had not expected the Archlord to respond so emotionally towards her comment. She paused as he spoke about some wanting family, acceptance, while others power. A rare expression of passivity suddenly seized her features. She instantly realized how she sought a sense of identity with her own father might manifest through continuing his work among the Jedi.

Figuring out something so personal about herself already, she appreciated the feat. She matched the sincerity she sensed among the words he had offered. "I am very honored to be included in whatever drove you to come here."

He asked about her as they started their venture across a field of tall grass, which would soon lead them to the outer edge of a vast forest range. "Well, if you can't trust the Archlord, who is there to trust? Alright. About me..." Tempest reached out with her senses for alerted animal life, as she began to Telekinetically part the dense underbrush to create a walking path. "Well, I started out in my training excelling at Sense Abilities." Unless he would show further interest in knowing the reason behind her skillset, Tempest spared the Archlord from the harsh nitty-gritty details, that she learned these things in her youth because she had once been so psychologically damaged that she lost her ability to communicate. "I have since progressed to dabble in influencing the mind through more advanced methods." Tempest is honestly quite a modest one. She paused speaking for a moment to rethink his intentions. "Or maybe you are hoping to hear a more gripping tale during our trek?"

She may be on the smaller side, but she has a stamina to press on, that is not yet begun to wane. Tempest stopped progressing forward the instant she sensed something begin to hunt them, and it alerted the rest of its nearby pack. Her hand instinctively hovered over her Lightsaber tucked into her belt, as she stepped around the Archlord and faced away from him to gain them a full visual of their surroundings between the two of them.

She has no doubt that one who holds the title of Archlord can handle basically anything entirely by himself! However, she likes to serve some purpose in life!








[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"Then you and I are cut from the same cloth," Cedric replied quietly.

The trek had been relatively peaceful thus far. Old ruins dotted the landscape, a landscape that was otherwise covered by low hanging trees and numerous cliffs that ran off to the water below. The sun was warm, yet not uncomfortable. So much so that Cedric was tempted to remove his helm and enjoy its warmth, though he thought better of it as the drew further down the trail. The planet itself had been left to the wilds, and whatever wandered here would surely have no fear of humanity.

Still, he was confident enough not to worry over such things.

"I have been a mentalist since a very young age. I was bred for that purpose. My parents begot me as any other child, but genetics were tampered with in the womb so that I would fit the bill. My father needed an heir, and he needed one that could command armies. My mind is usually melded with a dozen or so people at any given time. It's a reflex - my battle meditation has helped the Dominion win numerous battles." He tilted his head toward her, sounding as if he were smiling.

"There are beasts approaching us, just over that next hill." He gestured toward a craggy shift in the terrain. "We may be able to calm them before anything has to happen. What do you think?"

[member="Tempest Yore"]

 

[Tempest Yore]

As they continued along their path, Tempest occasionally activated the respirator she had brought along with her. She had extensive training in the Art of Control during her youth, only has not required such assistance often since.

She had just finished saying, 'I am very honored to be included in whatever drove you to come here.' when the Archlord [member="Cedric Grayson"] returned a quiet comment about being cut from the same cloth, which perplexed her slightly. It seemed to mean more than she could yet comprehend. 'Perhaps he sensed what I had been just thinking about my father?' she wondered. The idea did not bother her. What would she think of him, if he as the Archlord hadn't such insight into people around him? In fact his temperance was quite opposite of what she had anticipated. Afterall, the Grandmaster on Voss never even acknowledged her presence when she had knocked on his/her office door to meet them. Tempest as a Padawan was dismissed without so much as a single word, as if to state that her interest meant nothing to her Grandmaster. She just had this preconceived notion which she took away from that specific experience that such highly evolved Jedi would naturally be equally unapproachable on any sociable level. She would just be herself with them regardless. But this Archlord did not portray himself in any similar snooty fashion at all. In fact, he actually talked about himself to an extent she felt a connection.

"Genetically engineered? Hope they didn't forget something!" she replied with a laugh, and an expression of mocked scrutiny.

Because he was willing to open up, Tempest also shared with him her history. How her coming into existence was the exact opposite. She was raised in a broken home, by her mother who was Non Force Sensitive, and who did not try to understand the purpose of a Jedi, especially her father's. How Tempest had only come to know her father after her mother's passing, and had the worst expectation about him from her mother.

"My father had chased after people whom he had claimed were in league with very evil scientists, those who planned to wipe out particular civilizations. I could not have known it then, but I now suspect he had been following some people who had their hand in the unleashing of the recent plague. Those men killed him and left me in a terrible place." She was forced to figure out Breath Control; it was do or die on that planet. "I dug his grave with his own lightsaber." The same one she carries on her belt today. She proceeded with her story about how she had been rescued by a friend of her father's, also a Jedi, and that she had not spoken a word from the age of five to nine from having been traumatized after having been witness to her father's murder. That Jedi Master had reared and trained her, and only recently met his death due to health complications caused by the recent plague.

Tempest was eager to hear more of the Archlord's life story. '…mind usually melded with,' "A dozen or so people?!" Tempest exclaimed without reservation over her well deserved curiosity, and stopped dead in her tracks.

She could not imagine the lack of personal privacy! Or maybe she has it all wrong, and that is not an issue at all! A hundred questions raced through her thoughts, such as, 'Does he control those people? Or do people share in his intense connection to the Force, so they can then perform skills they haven't exhausted in training in order to perform alone? Is he connected with people across the Galaxy right now?!'

"Fascinating…" she proclaimed, her eye depicting her thoughts in befuddlement.

'I am the only one here! Is he doing that now with me??'

Her face lit up with anticipation. She stepped in front of him, and with uncontainable excitement, begged, "Oh! Do me! Do me!'

These creatures hunting the two Jedi, as it turns out, aren't the cute and fuzzy kind, but hideous bug-like with hardbodied shells and sharp spiny quills. She had never seen the likes of such creatures as these before, at their size, almost 4.5 kilograms, she suspects. Instinctively, Tempest reached out with her thoughts towards them and projected an extreme sense of physical exhaustion and the will to sleep.

Within mere seconds a swarm of the winged version of the same creature appeared overhead. Tempest concentrated the Force and emitted a Stun upon those nearest in their rapid attack descent.

She wondered how Battle Meld works. If she would sense anything different about herself. Maybe the Archlord won't permit her the experience. Maybe he wants to see how she reacts on her own.

One winged beast approached them from behind, and got too close for comfort for Tempest's likes. The Knight turned and quickly raised a hand sending out a wide Force Push to reclaim their space. Maybe she could cause them to believe there is something that tastes much better elsewhere, or that she and the Archlord are actually much more threatening than they appear.

Maybe… "A lightsaber would be quicker, Master." Afterall, he had first instructed she utilize a less violent approach to their little opposition. She certainly wouldn't oppose the preference of her Archlord!

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Cedric listened in respectful silence.

It was the fool that devalue the experiences of another, no matter how trivial they may have thought those experiences to be. It was fortunate that Tempest's own happenings were interesting as well, though he would have listened even if they had not been. Such was his lot in life; to speak when needed and to listen at all other times. He could not afford to daydream, or to let himself linger in a realm beyond the physical for too long. Her words would receive quiet nods and encouraging smiles, and his brow furrowed as he tried to envision the picture she painted for him.

"Nothing forgotten, I don't think, though I would have appreciated a better immune system. Get sick too much," he complained, though his voice was full of good humor. She spoke of her family and the hardships they endured - of her father's quest and the man's demise. Not unlike his own father's truly, and in that he found a kinship with the dainty woman. "It was something I was trained to do," he explained when the melding of minds came into play. "From a very early age, actually. They needed me to lead, and so I led. They needed someone to coordinate our warriors, and so I learned how to. It didn't hurt that I had a natural talent for such things."

Hje lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug and smiled. "You?" A brow quirked up. "I suppose I could, so long as your mind is open to it."

Leather boots came to a halt atop a hilly ridge. Eyes that reflected the sea below drifted shut, and Cedric was lost to the physical realm. His mind traveled the waters of the Great Ocean - the term his ancestors had coined for the ethereal realm, or the Force. He found the island that was Tempest easily enough, and sought to land upon it. The connection was a brief and simple thing. He did not seek to shatter her mental walls, nor did he seek domination of the mind. Memories were kept private, and thoughts were left untouched. All that came of it was Cedric's presence; a calm and reassuring thing at the back of the mind like the hand of a friend upon one's shoulder.

His eyes drifted open to behold the insectoid creatures. "We don't disrupt the flow of things unless we have to," he intoned, "And I'm not a master. I was never trained by the Jedi, I only subscribe to their beliefs. Maybe one day, but -" one of the creatures lunged toward him. It came to a halt a pace away, its big eyes staring at Cedric emptily. Then it turned, and went on its way back toward the wildlands. A second lunged and met with a similar fate.

the only sign of exertion from Cedric was a rigidness in his shoulders. "Draw the blade if you need to, but use it to scare them rather than to kill."

[member="Tempest Yore"]

 

[Tempest Yore]

She could not imagine having her destiny preordained by mankind, before birth, and cutting out the guidance of a higher power. She remembered when long ago Jedi forbade marriage and children, and Jedi instead snatched up FS children away from their families to train them. She felt risk of spousal love, sharing passions so deep is understandable, yet many aspects of life have so much to teach one! "We only live once," she whispered in observation. It seemed unnatural to be woven in the womb for a predetermined purpose, as if natural born freedoms have all been stripped away. She felt the Archlord's burden heavy, even though she could hear inner peace echo in his voice, his smiles wasted secrets within his concealing helmet.

The introduction to a Battle Meld was as deeply astounding as she had anticipated, only she suspected there would be more to it. She sensed his respect to proceed with caution. She repeated her previously uttered exclamation regarding the skill, "Fascinating." Before he withdrew he might have learned a thing of two which she shared as she looked at him. Her candid expression was not only drawn from her because of his ability to perform such a rare skill, but also in regard to he who could master. Tempest blushed for a moment.

***​

In the midst of pest swatting ordeal, Tempest remained standing back to back against the Archlord. She did indeed grow oddly tiresome of this hiccup, and so she ignited her lightsaber, which she immediately deemed a very bad idea, witnessing the creatures gather in front of her in a swarm. They became instantly mesmerized and drawn to the bright glowing light of the laser beam. Everything progressed as in slow motion. As the creatures of the air and land alike, charged towards the blue iridescence without hesitation, the Knight reacted in kind, swiftly and swiped through the air only once...

One swipe is all it took to realize her predicament.

"Oh crap," she chided the immortal words.

Don't insects contain quite sticky liquid for innards, which when sliced will be very, very messy? Not to mention they stain! How about a ten pound version of them?

Tempest frowned. Her eyes widened considerably. Sheer mortification bore upon her countenance. Without thinking, as her consciousness perceived the trajectory of the gooey innards to be splattering her way, she disengaged her lightsaber and all at once hurled the biggest Push she could muster to save the folds of her lovely dress. It was more than just a Force Push like she cast before. It so happened to be a Repulse in fact, the first she ever felt passionate enough to generate. Passion for her dress, which she loves and is still a good thing. The whole idea of keeping clean would give her inner peace.

Oh, her Repulse sent the lot of the creatures, the remainder of those intact and those now just popped goo, tumbling through the air away from them both. The Knight found herself thrust backwards as a result of the force of the thrust she generated. She landed against something...the Archlord of course.

Back to back...

She saw the sky...

Maybe he is seeing the ground?

She saw her own feet come up over her head...

Perhaps he, his feet as well? He might be glad he had not removed his helmet now?

Her petticoats hoisted up exposing her ladiness...

Bet he wished he saw this!

Then Tempest saw the ground coming up to meet her feet...

Thus she completed a backwards tumblesault over the Archlord's back and landed in front of him, facing him now.

Tempest stood where her feet had planted, as she smoothed her ruffled nylon netting. A little smack of her lips and she proclaimed, "Well, that's done." As a matter of fact it was so. As they progressed along their trek, the Knight watched with satisfaction as the curious and likely hungry creatures passed, but did not dare approach the two again.

After a moment, as they walked Tempest thought about how the Archlord's encouragement to not harm these non-sentient insects was entirely unexpected by the Knight. His interpretation of himself did not match her expectations. "Not a Jedi, nor a Master? Riiiiiiiiiiight. Not a Jedi Master! Maybe some other day?! Tell that to the Light of the Force! Not a comedian either. And...just a little confused for an Archlord?" Tempest smiled widely. She is only kidding, and thus far he seems not to mind. "In all honesty though, Jedi is not a label, neither is it an allegiance." At that Tempest realized, that she too cannot pledge any allegiance to a Grandmaster. For having so many in one galaxy is just uncanon. She can meet with a Council for advice, but until the Jedi unite, she simply cannot belong to one Master. "To be a Jedi is a Way. To Jedi is a path. It is to do...or to do not." Tempest figured his thoughts on the matter one thing about his life over which he has complete control, and no one else can define himself for him. She nodded lightly in affirmation of his freedom, but certainly felt she may know better in this particular matter! "Its ok. To be a Jedi, you don't necessarily need to proclaim yourself so either." She smiled once again. "Proclamations of mankind are nothing without works. And you are careful enough to protect even non-sentient beings." Tempest honestly had not cared wether those creatures lived or died, but she is just a Knight; however the Archlord had expressed great care, just as would a Jedi Master.

"There is absolutely NO REASON you should decide to do ANYTHING that I say, [member="Cedric Grayson"]!"

 

[Placeholder 0128]

A bit of blood never hurt anything.

The mass of insect viscera was cast aside rather candidly, and Cedric found himself turning to give Tempest an incredulous look. That was, of course, until his erstwhile companion came crashing into him. The impact almost sent him sprawling, and it knocked the air clean from his lungs. Then she was tumbling over him in some kind of odd somersault. Confused and caught utterly unawares, Cedric could only watch as she crashed down in front of him, a mass of ruffles and blond hair.

The creatures made their escape then, and Cedric really couldn't blame them. Things tended to get messy whenever the force got involved in...well, anything really, and nature had a better mind for danger than sentients did the majority of the time. The youth folded his arms about his chest and shook his head as the creatures scurried down the hilly ridge. The evening had come and it was beginning to leave, the skies above littered with pregnant gray clouds. The seas around the island had grown choppy, the water crashing upon the sandy beaches with a fury akin to that of an enraged god. Perhaps the creatures had fled for reasons other than the two trespassers.

"Still a Jedi," he shrugged. "I just don't like fighting animals. I get this odd sense of guilt that I don't find when I'm dealing with soldiers. That being said, I've only ever killed..." his brow furrowed beneath the mask. "Well, personally I have killed none, but I've felt the deaths of thousands. When I connect with the minds of my soldiers, I become a part of them. I help them kill, so I guess you could say I've killed more people than any man has any right to." The words were spoken as fact, carrying little by way of feeling to them. "But with my own two hands? I've never killed a soul."

That much was true, though he doubted the manner of killing had any weight on the moral quandary it represented.

"And I do have a sense of humor," he countered, "It's just...eh, quieter?" Another shrug. "And there's no reason you should do anything I say either, aside from military matters, but that's just rank. Question though."

They came upon the end of the ridge. Ahead lay a large jungle with a road carved through its midsection, though the road had been untended in sometime. Reeds and bushes grew around its rocky terrain, and it looked as if nothing had trodden upon it in many years. Trees grew to great statures on either side of the road, their leaves banking downward to bathe the road in the light of dusk.

"Why the dress?" He asked as they stepped onto the road. "I mean, it suits you, but why on an outing like this?"

[member="Tempest Yore"]

 

[Tempest Yore]

Tempest listened as the Archlord spoke of not wanting to kill animal life. "Animals? I kind of like to look at it as if maybe not leaving behind a swarm of giant carnivorous insects, -not animals,- might make it safer for everyone who will come after us. But I just don't like bugs to begin with, even teeny weenie ones, so I am willing to admit that I am biased."

Killing sentients is a touchy subject for any warrior. She wanted to ask him how he thinks those he melds with handle that guilt alone. She refused because of the psychological repercussions it could stir. Battle Meld is necessary, as it helps keep soldiers alive.

Tempest looked over the next section of their path which he pointed out. The darkness under the canopy lead her to reach out and gather a sense of life therein.

[member="Cedric Grayson"] mentioned possessing a sense of humor, only being quieter about it. So...should she whisper? Tempest mocked a leer instead.

"There is alot of life in there. Might want to set a goal to reach, before the carnivore animals come out of hiding. Worse than insects I'm pretty sure. Insects which go to sleep at dusk, thankfully."

As they started from the bottom of the ridge to venture along the road leading into the ancient forest, he openly asked her about her nonconforming attire. Most are curious to a degree, but never cared enough to ask outright. She decided on how to answer him, about why she wears a dress at times, when it can be thought inappropriate. "Well, I suppose the most direct answer would be, that its just one familiar pleasure in a vast sea of growing responsibility." She did not mind building upon it either, if not just to kill time. As she spoke, her voice dropped to that of one thick with melancholy. "I was not trained among the Temples like practically most of the others. I learned during occasional missions with my father, but nothing among a group. This life to me is a culture shock. I guess, if I still had any family to go home to I would never have even left that life. So much I have been required to assimilate to my new life, its just my way of feeling comfortable, to hold onto my individuality, its kind of all I've got left." That was a bit hard to hear herself say for the first time. "No on has ever asked me before."

Tempest realized she may have given the wrong impression. "But, don't get me wrong, I am ready to move away from what doors have shut on my life. Just...I really wasn't prepared for how much I would be expected to leave behind." Even her view of what it means to be a Jedi in this universe, has grown drastically since she met so many others outside of the world she grew up in.

Her pace slowed a bit, as she had to step carefully over the rocks, or risk twisting an ankle. "I remember the first time I looked out into the Hangar Deck and everyone looked like a carbon copy of one another. Problem is they feel so very different from the inside. Do you think its vain of me, to not desire to fully assimilate myself among the ranks?"

Balancing herself atop a rock, she finally glanced over at her companion, and felt a tad embarrassed for having taken liberty of expressing herself on such a personal level. "I'm sorry. Don't answer that." She hoped she hadn't made him feel awkward. "Instead, maybe tell me about the history of the Dominion. I had so many questions since the first briefing. For one, why yet another Jedi Council? Especially knowing now that you do not even identify yourself with the Jedi?" The whole ordeal really did trouble her. Her tone depicted her passion regarding the issue of a meeting that had occurred, which the Archlord himself lead regarding the Jedi unifying within the Dominion. "The last thing the Galaxy needs is more division. A Grandmaster is not a title nor a position, its a level of one individual's evolution with the Force. I am sorry, but to just name a Grandmaster of a new Council, one who is not worthy, may easily result in the whole lot being mislead and wrought low to the Darkside." She did not want this result. None of the Jedi want to fail. Yet still they assembled and discussed the possibility of forming a Council like it stands for nothing grandiose!

She did not know if anything he could say regarding the matter would make her feel any better about what could occur.