Coryth Elaris
Shortstack of Fire
Coryth tossed and turned in her bed struggling through another vision though this one was not traumatic, or heartbreaking, or even of death. It was one of possibility. An office, a name ... Sargon. She knew it. Slowly pieces were coming together as the woman worked through her vision.
Sleep was nothing but torment for the tiny Jedi Master, the one place she did not have control. The one place she could not hide from the demons that haunted her. Visions of war. Visions of death .... of even one of her dearest friends dying, visions of her fall and what the galaxy would come to if it came to it. So many visions. It was no wonder she could even function with such torture at night. But at least this one was more peaceful, less stressful on her body but still it was the force pulling at her so it drained her as it always did and would.
Finally steel grey eyes snapped open and Coryth sat up in bed, her sheets a mess. The blanket long thrown off. Pillows were everywhere, but it was nothing new to her. The pull was so strong even as she sat there thinking through all she had saw, all that she had seen. Bakura, this man named Sargon ... She had to go. The force was ripping at her, practically dragging her that way. But it was fringe space. A place she was sure could be trouble for her. But the possibilities that swirled in the force around the one called Sargon. Coryth had to go.
The guard considered the 4'11" tiny redhead warily and kindly asked her purposed and for an ID card. Hers, was out of date by ten years, still showed her a republic citizen, a Jedi to boot. Long story, she never got a new one once she moved to the Protectorate. She only had her military ID and somehow she didn't think that was going to go over so well. So she pulled out the old one. Finally when asked again of her purpose, she spoke softly, kindly. "I'm here to see Sargon. And before you ask he is not expecting me. But I must see him."
Sleep was nothing but torment for the tiny Jedi Master, the one place she did not have control. The one place she could not hide from the demons that haunted her. Visions of war. Visions of death .... of even one of her dearest friends dying, visions of her fall and what the galaxy would come to if it came to it. So many visions. It was no wonder she could even function with such torture at night. But at least this one was more peaceful, less stressful on her body but still it was the force pulling at her so it drained her as it always did and would.
Finally steel grey eyes snapped open and Coryth sat up in bed, her sheets a mess. The blanket long thrown off. Pillows were everywhere, but it was nothing new to her. The pull was so strong even as she sat there thinking through all she had saw, all that she had seen. Bakura, this man named Sargon ... She had to go. The force was ripping at her, practically dragging her that way. But it was fringe space. A place she was sure could be trouble for her. But the possibilities that swirled in the force around the one called Sargon. Coryth had to go.
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She boarded a shuttle, several stops and days later she finally had come to Bakura. Even stepping on the planet, the pull was undeniably powerful. Wandering with purpose, she let it pull her, guide her this way and that. Till finally she came to a military installation and walked right to the front gate without batting an eyelash.The guard considered the 4'11" tiny redhead warily and kindly asked her purposed and for an ID card. Hers, was out of date by ten years, still showed her a republic citizen, a Jedi to boot. Long story, she never got a new one once she moved to the Protectorate. She only had her military ID and somehow she didn't think that was going to go over so well. So she pulled out the old one. Finally when asked again of her purpose, she spoke softly, kindly. "I'm here to see Sargon. And before you ask he is not expecting me. But I must see him."