Private Yentarr

[Cedric Grayson]

Unsure of what Starlin had learned thus far, Cedric elected to teach his student through actions rather than words. The youth would observe how he acted with others, and either adjust accordingly, or come to his own conclusions.

With this in mind, rather than give a traditional lesson, Cedric simply informed Starlin that the two of them would be traveling to the Bosph system on the next day, and that Starlin should take care of whatever he needed to before their departure. The duo had set off without much word to anyone else other than a promise that they would return at daybreak the next morning.

Cedric secluded himself to his meditations for the majority of the flight. He was uncertain as to how the Bosphs would receive them, but an alliance needed to be forged one way or the other. Their worlds was in a prime position to serve as a staging ground for the crusade, and as far as he knew, the Bosphs had very little love for the Sith. Indeed, according to their strange laws, the Bosphs were keen to pretend the Sith did not exist in response to the empire's more recent atrocities, and ancient enmities yet unforgotten. To do so was considered the greatest insult of Bosph society, or so Cedric had read.

He meandered out of his private quarters as their ship lurched out of hyperspace, clad in his traditionally armored robes, though he was not yet wearing his helmet. He approached the cockpit, expecting to find Starlin as the shuttle began its final approach to the world below.

"Ever met a Bosph before Starlin?" The exile asked curiously to announce himself.

Starlin Rand

 

[Starlin Rand]

“Eh, I might’ve on Coruscant. Lots of species come through there.”

Starlin was sitting in the pilot’s seat, his feet resting on the dashboard. He sat up straight when Cedric arrived, however.

The Padawan was likewise clad in strange armor, the helm resting beside him. It gave him a wild and threatening look, one that was offset by the boyishness of his face, the curliness of his hair, and the mildness of his expression.

“Should I be worried?” he asked with a snort. “Do they not like offworlders, or Jedi, or humans, or something?” Cedric had yet to explain the nature of their mission here, and Starlin had no clue what they might be dealing with. Hence why he had come prepared.

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The armor was indeed a bit odd. Whereas Cedric's traditional plates were ostentatious, Starlin's were more threatening than anything. They reminded Cedric of the types of garb worn by the assassins of the One Sith, so long ago. Nonetheless, it wasn't much his business how his apprentice chose to dress himself.

"They don't generally care for anyone. I would classify them as spiritual isolationists." He explained, "They're a strange race. Large and six limbed, mammalian yet with eyes like an insect's. Traditionally they have been ruled by force sensitives. They suffered heavily at the hands of the Galactic Empire of old, and Sith of the modern day. I am hoping they will sympathize with our cause."

He leaned over Starlin's chair to stare out at the planet below. They'd break through the atmosphere shortly.

"Their homeworld is the perfect staging ground for the Crusade, and their people are great warriors. We're going to be playing diplomats today. Whatever they ask of us, so long as it is not immoral, we will need to do to earn their trust." He paused as they approached ever closer. "Try not to stare at their eyes too much. In my experience, the Bosphs tend to be a bit sensitive about their appearances."

Starlin Rand

 

[Starlin Rand]

“Mmm.”

Starlin could empathize with the Bosphs’ sensitivities. For much of his life, he had been horribly self-conscious about his half-alien heritage, almost to the point of being ashamed that his father was a Balosar. The ubiquitous cap he had worn as a kid was meant to hide his antennapalps. Nowadays, he just kept them fully retracted and hidden in his hair, and he was far less reluctant to expose them when others were around.

As the ship plunged through the planet’s atmosphere and alighted on a landing pad, Starlin shrugged. “I can do cowboy diplomacy,” he said, rising from his seat and picking up his helm. “Let’s go.”

He followed Cedric outside.

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Funnily enough, Cedric was still unaware of his student's inhuman nature. For all his supposed perception and skill, the obvious was yet unknown to the Jedi Exile.

The world of Bosph was one of deep scars. Once bombarded by the fleet of the Galactic Empire, the world had not yet fully recovered in the centuries since. The pad they landed on sat upon a sea of grassy planes that stretched on as far the horizon. Rather than the grand cities that made up the capitals of other races, the prime city of the Bosphs was more akin to a a great town that dottted random bits of the grass sea. Highways of permacrete connected each township, linking each insular community into one greater civilized structure.

The concept was unique, and Cedric decided that it might have some merit. The preservation of small communities and the familiarity that came with them, spliced with the infrastructure and economic opportunities of a proper city. It would only work with a smaller population, of course, but it appealed to Cedric's more tradionalist mentality.

"I'm not sure if cowboy is the right word for you Starlin," Cedric mumbled as they stepped down the ship's gangplank, his voice heavily modulated by his helmet. "You seem more the moral outlaw." Not necessarily a bad thing. "This city is strange. Individual towns interconnected by highways, grass as far as the eye can see. Our people could flourish here," he added, just as three large Bosphs clad in robes threaded with red and gold came marching up the landing pad.

"Greetings visitors," said the largest of the three, a stocky Bosph's with white fur and green compound eyes. "Ela'b Yentarr, it has been some time since your kind have come to our world. I am Grimbaush, High Seer of the Eastern Farseers, elected representative of the Bosph clades. I feel that you have no ill intentions - are you not Sith?"

Starlin Rand

 

[Starlin Rand]

“You’ve never heard of cowboy diplomacy? It just means diplomatic actions that are conducted using means outside accepted channels and methods.” Quite the mouthful, that definition. “I’m plenty outside the norm, I think.”

Starlin followed Cedric outside the ship, to the meeting with the three Bosphs. The Padawan stood with his helmet under his arm, listening to their greetings. At their question, Starlin shifted his weight from foot to foot with cocky swagger, smirking.

“Nope, no Sith. We’re Jedi,” he replied, as though this were all the answer required. Only after he had spoken did it occur to him that he probably should’ve let Cedric speak first. Whoops. Uh...

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

"No, never. What's a cowboy?" Cedric asked with seeming seriousness. Whether he knew what a cowbow was or not, the Bosphs' physical appearance took him aback as it ever did. There was something about those compound eyes that Cedric did not like - it made their emotions difficult to understand, for one. Many species claimed that the eyes were the windows to the soul. If that were the case, then the souls of the Bosphs' had been fragmented into several dozen pieces.

Fortunately his momentary unease was hidden well enough by his mask, and his calm tone of voice. "Jedi indeed," Cedric echoed his apprentice. He cast the youth a brief look that was neither approval or annoyance, but simple curiosity.

"I am Cedric Grayson, and this is my apprentice, Starlin Rand. We stand in opposition to the Sith." He explained.

The lead Bosph shrugged. "That is good, I suppose. We have only had unpleasant dealings with the Sith. Dealings that cannot be recalled in detail." Grimbaush explained, "Why do you come here?"

Cedric spoke quickly, hoping to cut his padawan off before Starlin accidentally sabotaged their negotiations. "We come seeking comrades. The Sith hold our worlds hostage, and we mean to see them set free, but we need a staging ground..."

Grimbaush shook with laughter. "Ah, yes, yes, I see. A bold request!" Grimbaush turned on his portly heel, his escorts following in sync. "You will be my guests for the time being. Come! We will discuss the Yentarr, the Sith, and other things!" He took off before Cedric could respond, leaving the two Jedi only to follow in Grimbaush's wake if they wanted to press further.

The Bosph would lead them down to an escalator that ran from the landing pads toward a domelike structure, a few acres of grassland stretching out on either side of it. "Tell me, apprentice Rand, why do you wear such armor? Neither you or your teacher look like any Jedi I have ever heard of."

Starlin Rand

 

[Starlin Rand]

“Dudes whose job it is to herd and tend to cows. That’s the literal definition, anyway, but the term usually refers to small-time heroes in the Outer Rim who fight against outlaws and pirates that threaten remote, defenseless settlements...” He guessed Cedric had never seen a cowboy holofilm, but he didn’t have a chance to get another word in on this particular line of discussion.

The Bosphs were a little odd and shifty, and since Cedric seemed concerned that these talks would go south, Starlin kept his mouth shut until the aliens asked him a direct question about his armor.

“Well, I can’t really speak for my master’s fashion choices, but I wear this armor because…” He paused, hesitating. He had been about to say because my master made it for me, but Cedric had not made this armor. For a bewildering few moments, Starlin was forced to come to terms with the fact that Syd Celsius was no longer the only one he meant when he said the word “master”. He hadn't gotten completely used to it yet.

“... because it was made by someone whom I respect, and I didn’t have any choice in what it looked like,” he finished at last. “The armor is fire-themed. It can absorb heat and protect me from being burned by flames. That’s probably the main reason for the, uh, red color scheme.”

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Cedric considered tackling the cowboy issue, but he decided to let that one lie. It sounded rather strange.

Grimbaush peered curiously at Starlin Rand for a moment, his compound eyes as expressionless as an insect's. Whatever the Bosph thought of the youth's answer, it was near impossible to tell. The alien stared at the armor for a moment longer, then offered another of his shrugs. "Red for fire. That is apt," He finally said, his curiosity seemingly sated.

Cedric glanced at Starlin for a momentt. He was about as curious as Grimbaush was about the gear, but that would be a conversation for another time. They had business to attend to. "Mine is traditional. It hails from my homeworld." Cedric added, not that Grimbaush had asked.

The Bosphs led them into a building that had been carved out of the earth. Its roof was made of the same grass that covered the rest of the plains, and the air upon entering was cold and damp. The walls were sleek and mechanical in their appearance, and a series of doors slowly slid open ahead of them as they delved further.

"Well, I suppose brevity would serve us best here." Grimbaush muttered as they entered a large circular chamber that was host to nearly a dozen different terminals. "I would like to negotiate with you as an equal, but we are currently in a state of...unrest. Traditionally my clade has held sovereignty over all of Bosph: that is no longer the case. You see, I thought you might be Sith because they have already arrived. Two clades have already sworn themselves to their empire, and I do not know why."

Grimbaush turned his head from one Jedi to the other. "If...you could perhaps help with this, I might be able to better help you, if you get my meaning."

 

[Starlin Rand]

Starlin felt almost relieved when the conversation veered away from the subject of strange un-Jedi-like armor. He became unabashedly eager and attentive as Grimbaush spoke of the Sith.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Starlin said quickly, his tone anything but dismissive. He was trying to prompt them for more information. “Sith are our specialty. Just give us some numbers and point us in the direction they’re hiding out in, and we’ll whoop their asses for you.”

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Cedric fought the urge to chuckle at his apprentice's eagerness for battle. Were it not that he felt he had a decent handle on Starlin's personality, the youth's words might have worried him, but he had confidence in the young man. More so than he did in most.

"I'm not certain if 'whooping their asses' is the best course of action here Starlin," he half-reprimanded, though there was more amusement than fire behind it. "We will speak to these clads, Farseer, if you only point us in the right direction. I have faith that they can be convinced if they only hear us out."

Now it was Grimbaush's turn to laugh. "You are welcome to try Ela'b Yentarr. I fear they are entirely keen on conservation as of late, but I suppose that we will see. I can have a speeder prepared for you within the hour if you wish."

"That would most gracious Farseer," Cedric offered a half-bow to the alien. "I'd really prefer not to have to walk."

"Wouldn't we all. Wait here, I will make preperations." Without awaiting any further reply, Grimbaush and his escorts sauntered off deeper into the underground fortress.

Alone for the moment, Cedric turned toward his apprentice. "Sith subversion is all too common." He muttered, arms folding about his chest. "That being said, if we can resolve this peacefully, that would be the right path to take. The Sith and their followers are still people, they're just sick, inflicted a disease of the mind. If we can cure them, then we must, but if no cure is available, then we 'kick their asses' as you've said. To do is a great mercy. To do otherwise is to let them suffer, trapped within the prisons of their flesh until it is consumed by the dark powers they consort with. There is no other more damning way to die. It is not only a physical pain, but a suffering of the soul, a death of oneself in a spiritual sense that transcends the physical." He lectured, "I have confidence in your abilities and your judgement Starlin, but I need you to follow my lead if we meet with these clades. The wrong words could result in much needless violence."

Starlin Rand

 

[Starlin Rand]

While the Bosphs left to make preparations, Cedric took the time to speak to Starlin. The boy’s mouth curled in a grim smirk as he listened to his master’s words, but he nodded.

“Right.” Then, fearing he’d come across as sarcastic, he added in a more sincere tone, “I’d rather not fight anyway, if it isn’t necessary. It’s dangerous, risky, and… destructive. More than that, it’s what the Sith want. The Dark Side grows stronger from destruction and death.”

The blithe manner in which he spoke of “whooping asses” was for the sake of levity at best, gamesmanship at worst. He hoped Cedric recognized that, and judging by the old man’s amusement, it seemed he did. But Starlin himself had forgotten, if only for a moment, that not everyone was going to get the joke.

“I’ll try and keep my mouth shut from here on out, or at least… not talk about whooping asses anymore.”

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

“Wise words,” Cedric mumbled, “If I wanted silent obedience, I would have brought a droid. Your opinions are important to me Starlin, I only want to make certain that your heart is in the right place, and you’ve assured me that it is.” He added, offering the youth a slight, respectful nod. Their partnership was still new, and it would take time before they learned how to properly work around one another, but Cedric was confident that they would eventually make a good t

It was around that time that Grimbaush returned. The bosph lacked his retinue from earlier, and instead strode up to the Jedi alone with a frown on his bulbous face. “I have made the offer of parley to the errant clads, but they have elected to ignore my summons. They do not wish to see me, or you. That they would be so bold as to reject us is worrying. Perhaps our hold on the clades is not as solid as we would like to believe.”

Cedric was uncertain exactly how Bosph politics functioned, but he suspected these clades were similar to tribes of other worlds: decentralized clans stuck under the thumb of the most powerful among their number. Perhaps striking a deal with the Sith would shift that balance of power, and a new clade would find itself at the top.

“Well, we need to speak with them either way. If you can get us to wherever it is their leaders reside, Starlin and I can do the rest.”
“You will have to go alone. To send members of my clade after being rejected would be seen as an act of war.”

“That’s fine. I’d prefer not to put your people in any danger.”

Grimbaush shrugged, “Well, follow me then. A speeder is waiting.”

The alien would lead them out the way they came. A large armored speeder hovered silently just outside, the protocol droid pilot waving to the two men as they approached.
“The droid will take you to where you need to go. Are you sure you are prepared.”

“I’m sure. If anything goes awry, we’ll be acting as an independent party.”

“As you say. I bid you well then, Jedi.” The word sounded strange and foreign on the Bosph’s tongue. Not one to waste anymore time, Cedric climbed into the back passenger seat of the speeder, the vehicle’s engine humming to life as they prepared to disembark.

(Phone post)

Starlin Rand

 

[Starlin Rand]

Starlin found that he didn’t have much to say to Grimbaush. He stayed quiet as a speeder was brought for them, climbing into the vehicle. As he took a seat, the vaguest hint of danger ahead passed through him like a shiver against a chilly breeze… but he didn’t say anything about it. He just kept his eyes peeled for whatever lay ahead.

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The pilot droid was silent as ever. Fortunately Cedric hadn't come wanting a conversation.

His eyes drifted shut as they travelled toward their destination, his thought dipping into the depths of the empyrean. The meditation was not nearly as peaceful or in depths as he might have liked, but he was able to get a taste for what awaited them nonetheless. The island of the other clade was far less calm than that of the Farseer's. The waters around it rumbled with barely contained violence, and the clouds above were sundered by bolts of lightning and the roaring of thunder.

Grimbaush had not been lying. These were followers of the Bogan.

The trip was a long one, but the speeder was incredibly fast. It only took a few hours to cover the majority of the continent, the golden lights of the evening beginning to fall as they drew up to what looked to be one of the only mountains on the planet. It wasn't particularly tall, but for the plains of Bosph, it was enormous. Electrical lights nad illumination from torches lit up most of the mountain's face, several bits of artificial metal structures poking out through the crags.

"I guess this is it." Cedric mumbled as he squeezed his way out of the speeder. They were still far enough so as not to be noticed in the encroaching darkness. "Into the proverbial lion's den. Those elemental techniques you've practiced might prove to be very handy here. If they decide they want to kill us maybe we can threaten them with an earthquake." Half-suggestion, half-gest. "You ready?"

Starlin Rand

 

[Starlin Rand]

“Yeah, let’s do this.” Starlin got out of the speeder. “Y’know, I can control the weather, and I can do weird stuff with fire and sand, but an earthquake is something I’ve never tried.” Maybe now was the opportunity to do so.

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

"That's more than I can do. Never had much talent for manipulating the elements, other than picking up heavy things and throwing them at other equally heavy things." Cedric mumbled as the speeder flew off the moment Starlin Rand cleared its doors. It seemed Grimbaush was quite keen on not being associated with their journey whatsoever. Cedric understood that much. If they failed here, and their activities were linked to the Farseer's clade, there would likely be civil war on Bosph.

"So," Cedric began. "I have a plan. It's going to rely on you keeping a straight face. If these Bosph are truly allied with the Sith, then they would see me as a valuable trophy. I am going to to give you my lightsaber and let you put me in some restraints. You'll deliver me to them, claim I am a present from the Farseer. That should draw any Sith hiding among them out. After that, we deal with the Sith, and hopefully this rogue clade will see that allying with them is a fool's errand."

The exile produced a pair of force-cuffs from his utility belt, and offered Starlin his lightsaber. "I don't think the clade will interfere if they are consorting with the Bogan. It supports the most powerful, and I expect they will wait to see who in particular that is. If I'm wrong, then we'll just have to try that earthquake idea, see what comes of it."

Cedric peered at his apprentice. "Think it'll work?"

 

[Starlin Rand]

“Yeah, well, I feel like a fething outcast most of the time because of the things I can do.” There was a little more to it than that, but Starlin didn’t elaborate. He was looking around, deep in thought.

He had also noticed Grimbaush was keeping them at arms’ length. It seemed a little weird, one of those suspicious-yet-understandable scenarios. Well, he’d keep on his toes in case it did turn out to be a setup.

Speaking of a setup…

Starlin’s eyes widened at the sight of the cuffs. He was a little reluctant to take them, sensing the gravity of Cedric placing himself in his hands. “You sure about this? I mean, if something fishy is going on, you’re gonna need to be able to fight immediately…”

Cedric Grayson​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The exile quickly decided that their meeting with the rogue clade could wait. They weren't on a timer, anyway. His arms folded behind the small of his back as he observed Starlin Rand from behind his mask, his head tilting to the right slightly as he reached out into the depths of the empyrean. It did not take a psychic to reveal the pain hidden beneath his apprentice's words, but he sought to look into its pattern within the Force. What was revealed to him was all too familiar.

"People fear what they do not understand Starlin," The Jedi Master mumbled as he reached up to draw back his cowl. His helmet was pulled away with a popping of its private atmosphere, the Essonian staring as his student with an expression that was somewhere between stoicism and sympathy. "Often you will feel as if you are the other if you do not fall in line. If you dabble in talents others have no mind for, they will view you as a possible threat. If you act in ways that do not follow the narrative, they will think you a rogue. If you believe in something they do not, they will take you for a fool."

The exile's expression softened somewhat. "Your abilities are gifts from both the Ashla and your parents. Do not let the opinions of others trick you into thinking they are anything less than a blessing. To do so would be a disservice to yourself, to the Goddess, and to your mother and father. We were specifically chosen to have our particular talents. If others choose to ostracize you for your uniqueness, let them. Experience has shown me that as long as you carve out your own path, in the end they will follow you all the same."

Likely not the place for any further lecturing, but social ostracization was something Cedric was all too familiar with. The issue was far too close to home for him to simply let lie if they had the time to discuss.

"That aside, I can find myself out of cuffs quite easily if they aren't wholly powered. If things go wrong, I'll simply break them, and you'll hand me my lightsaber. We'll work from there." The exile offered his apprentice a confident smile. "I have faith in you, don't worry yourself over it."

 

[Starlin Rand]

Starlin was a bit taken aback by the unmasked lecture, but he listened in silence. His only visible reaction beyond attentiveness was a slight smirk at the mention of a disservice to his mother and father. His dad had gone out for death sticks one day, never to be seen again. They weren’t even sure if he was alive or dead, though Starlin suspected he had simply abandoned the family.

“I understand, master,” he said, and meant it. There was no point in whining about not being accepted or not having friends. Not when he was this far along, this committed to the Jedi path.

Putting the matter on hold, he shrugged. “Okay then.” He took the lightsaber Cedric handed him and put the cuffs on his master, checking to make sure they weren’t fully powered. Attaching the saber to his belt, he got behind Cedric and—with a convincingly acted Boganish snarl—said “Move it, Jedi scum.”

Cedric Grayson​