"Focus, Yerbol. Focus."
Yerbol shifted uneasily in his chair, staring at the stone wall in front of him with growing impatience. A young Jedi Knight was supposed to conform to his Master's teachings, to cling to their every word so that wisdom can seep into their very being. Not that it was a dictatorial relationship, but a Padawan knew little to nothing about their expansive potential and a Master needed to ensure that the potential each Padawan carried with them. Of course, Yerbol wasn't a Padawan any longer; he had been made an official Jedi Knight by Grand Master Skywalker and the Council a couple of years ago at the raw age of twenty two. Now at twenty four, Yerbol had seen a few things in the galaxy that would allow him to not be classified as a novice any longer, but he knew he still had much to learn, which was exactly why he had consulted his old Master, an older Twi'lek by the name of Mansuto, on the issue of impulsiveness. Yerbol had always struggled with his ability to temper his feelings and thought he had been getting better, but a few weeks ago he had been sent to Tattoine to neutralize a squadron of raiders that was mercilessly torturing the moisture farmers in the area. When he had seen the vile corruption the raider scum had been enacting, the slavery, the brutality...well, instead of capturing them like the Council had instructed, he had slaughtered every last one of them. He pleaded that he had done this only to defend the farmers, but he knew that deep down there was something lurking inside of him, something dark and hulking, ominous, seeking to devour him when it had the chance. Now, he sat in a chair, staring at a wall. Mansuto told him that he was to meditate, to seek peace within himself and purge the darkness within. Yerbol had gone through these long periods of meditation for two days now, but to little effect.
"I can still feel it, Master. Seething. Burning."
"Good. Keep it isolated. Now search your inner feelings, analyze them."
"I...I'm still not..." He gritted his teeth, flashes of the innocent being impaled on vibroswords bolting through his mind, the Jedi Order collapsing because of inaction, the...
That might have been it.
Inaction.
"Master, I think...I think might be onto something."
"Good. You have taxed yourself enough for one day. Take your ruminations, place them in the recesses of your mind and carry on with the rest of your day. Do meet me in the council chambers at six this evening. I and another council member wish to discuss your progress."
"Of course." Yerbol turned to say goodbye, but Mansuto had disappeared.
"Boy he's good at that." He mumbled, rising from his chair and stretched upwards as he approached the doorway leading to the quiet Temple hallway. The Jedi Temple on Coruscant was rather silent today, but most were employed on other worlds attempting to stem the tide of increasing crime on multiple core worlds. Most of the Knights felt something was in the works, something drastic, but they were stonewalled by anyone who could have given them a straight answer.
His ears picked up on footsteps coming down the hall...
Yerbol shifted uneasily in his chair, staring at the stone wall in front of him with growing impatience. A young Jedi Knight was supposed to conform to his Master's teachings, to cling to their every word so that wisdom can seep into their very being. Not that it was a dictatorial relationship, but a Padawan knew little to nothing about their expansive potential and a Master needed to ensure that the potential each Padawan carried with them. Of course, Yerbol wasn't a Padawan any longer; he had been made an official Jedi Knight by Grand Master Skywalker and the Council a couple of years ago at the raw age of twenty two. Now at twenty four, Yerbol had seen a few things in the galaxy that would allow him to not be classified as a novice any longer, but he knew he still had much to learn, which was exactly why he had consulted his old Master, an older Twi'lek by the name of Mansuto, on the issue of impulsiveness. Yerbol had always struggled with his ability to temper his feelings and thought he had been getting better, but a few weeks ago he had been sent to Tattoine to neutralize a squadron of raiders that was mercilessly torturing the moisture farmers in the area. When he had seen the vile corruption the raider scum had been enacting, the slavery, the brutality...well, instead of capturing them like the Council had instructed, he had slaughtered every last one of them. He pleaded that he had done this only to defend the farmers, but he knew that deep down there was something lurking inside of him, something dark and hulking, ominous, seeking to devour him when it had the chance. Now, he sat in a chair, staring at a wall. Mansuto told him that he was to meditate, to seek peace within himself and purge the darkness within. Yerbol had gone through these long periods of meditation for two days now, but to little effect.
"I can still feel it, Master. Seething. Burning."
"Good. Keep it isolated. Now search your inner feelings, analyze them."
"I...I'm still not..." He gritted his teeth, flashes of the innocent being impaled on vibroswords bolting through his mind, the Jedi Order collapsing because of inaction, the...
That might have been it.
Inaction.
"Master, I think...I think might be onto something."
"Good. You have taxed yourself enough for one day. Take your ruminations, place them in the recesses of your mind and carry on with the rest of your day. Do meet me in the council chambers at six this evening. I and another council member wish to discuss your progress."
"Of course." Yerbol turned to say goodbye, but Mansuto had disappeared.
"Boy he's good at that." He mumbled, rising from his chair and stretched upwards as he approached the doorway leading to the quiet Temple hallway. The Jedi Temple on Coruscant was rather silent today, but most were employed on other worlds attempting to stem the tide of increasing crime on multiple core worlds. Most of the Knights felt something was in the works, something drastic, but they were stonewalled by anyone who could have given them a straight answer.
His ears picked up on footsteps coming down the hall...