[IC] Star Wars: Echoes of the Force

[Almalthia]

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The hour before the Dantooine sunrise saw a tall, athletic woman in dark clothing, or at least it seemed dark in the early hour. Jaslyn Dayne watched the sky turn from deep indigo to gray to lavender to pink and orange then finally a light blue. As the sky lightened and the sun, Dina, rose she became clearer to view. Her coppery hair was braided and the pieces that fell out floated around a strikingly beautiful and very natural face. Arching coppery brows over a pair of light gray eyes lined with deep drown thick lashes. A nose that was delicate as well as the bone structure. Cheekbones that set off large eyes and a complexion that was like cream. A mouth that was a full delicate rose cupid's bow set in a calm unruffled fashion. 

Wearing a buff colored hooded vest that clung to her curves with an ivory scarf tied loosely around her long neck. As she walked along the black leather harness shifted and creaked softly. Arms bare save for the buff leather gauntlets that closed with ornate laces in a braided cord pulled taut. Her harness was attached to a wrap that, at the moment, functioned like a skirt and a belt. At present it covered her backside but was twisted up in front like a belt to keep her legs free. Black leggings clung to long shapely legs and tucked into black boots that eased through the native grasses of the plains.

Jaslyn’s steps were light, silent and rolled like a dancer's, or more appropriately a swordswoman. The breeze swept across the plains waiving the grass like a sea. Garang as in the way of cities was rather small but that was to be expected on an Outer Rim planet. Garang was also home to the only spaceport. And Jaslyn was leaving Dantooine behind.

While still early Jaslyn was not the only one that was out and about. The residents of Garang were also up and busy with daily tasks. Jaslyn bought passage on a ship going to Jaemus without much trouble under the guise of a hunter wanting to participate in the Battle of the Arena in Vespaara.

The trip to Yavin was, in a word, boring. Which Jaslyn considered lucky since it could have been one that they'd been attacked by pirates along the way, multiple times. The lambda, that she had caught a ride with for the last leg of the journey, touched down. “What is this place called?” Jaslyn asked as she looked out the viewscreen.

“Wetyin’s Colony.” Came the grizzled voice from the Zabrak pilot that was flipping off switches to fully shut down the lambda. He was an older man who had needed a few hands with the ship and Jaslyn could work a slicer deck. Without using the Force and playing her hand.

“Thank you Kelnar.” Jaslyn had kept her presence in the Force buried but she still felt the echoes of it like a cool hand on the back of her neck. Thinking about it she wiped a hand over the back of her neck.

“You keep an eye out if you go to Gully’s. There are too many sleemos there.” Jaslyn saluted Kelnar and gathered her bag and stepped off the ship onto the ground. And nearly fell.

The Force was an almost physical thing here and it took everything that Jaslyn had to keep her presence buried. Stumbling, she caught herself before she fell. Blinking Jaslyn analyzed the information battering her shields. She knew that if she continued to hold it then she'd have a crippling headache within an hour. Jaslyn lowered her shield and felt the aggressive rush of the Force. 

The hot biting wind that stirred no air seemed to cut through Jaslyn. It was malicious and powerful and…searching. Chasing that was a calm soothing presence that was like light misty rain in spring. Both were just as powerful as the other. Balance. But teetering on the edge. Jaslyn acknowledged both as she felt a third. Small but growing and it felt like shade from a tree on a hot day. That was something different. 

Feet moving without truly conscious thought Jaslyn walked around the colony. She stopped in front of a home that was a little farther on the outskirts of the colony. A sapling that was different from the other trees around. Jaslyn reached out and stopped as a young voice spoke. “Who are you?”

Looking over her shoulder Jaslyn saw a young boy probably not more than nine years old. “Jaslyn Dayne. Can I get your name? I was told not to talk to strangers.” 

The young boy nodded. “Yeah my mom says that too.”

“Yet here you are talking to me.”

“Well if no one asked for names no one would know anyone would they.”

Smiling, Jaslyn held her hand out. “Pleased to meet you…?”

“Dameron. Poe Dameron.” He shook her hand enthusiastically. The child's emotions flowed through him into her. Excitement, friendliness, curiosity, longing to be included, uncertainty, anger and loneliness. Such deep loneliness. But love. So much love for his parents and flying. Seems he'd gotten the flying bug from his mother who was a pilot.

“Very nice to meet you Poe. Are your parents around? Don't want you getting into trouble.” Jaslyn let go of his smaller hand with an ease that belied the inner turmoil she was going through. 

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[Ruby]

The outreaches of Coronet City spider-webbed across too much of the planet, auto-mated plants and construction yards, ore processing and gas refineries. In Coronet City she preferred a lounge of gentle music, low lighting, and heavy, pure, whiskey—that was not where the meeting was set up. The location was picked because it wasn’t in the city, it wasn’t directly around wandering eyes, it was in an area filled with workers who had better things to worry about and other things to focus on.

And because it made the two men stand out. She knew the one, but other…something told her she should recognize him, but she didn’t. One was older, grittier, the look of a spacer about him. The other clean-shaven, kept and combed hair, he reminded her of an accountant, or an academic…which he likely was, given the deal. She watched from the unseen booth in the back of the dim red glow of the bar’s inner lights, whether steam or fog from the bar interior of the heavily industrial world outside helping to shroud her from view.

“Her name is what?”

“Rama.”

The younger of the two men, the polished one, gave a shrug and took a sip of his drink, “Never heard of her.”

The older, gruffer, spacer stared at him, “…yeah? You’ve never heard of the mysterious antiquities dealer even though I’ve only met them in person once before? Wow, imagine my fucking shock.”

Whatever their conversion, the younger man looked sheepish, out of place. There were no back-alley instincts to that one, no lower-level smarts. She waited until they started to look bored before she told one of the waitresses to ask the two men to join her in the back booth. Both human men approached with their drinks, squinting to find her in the shadow until she leaned forward into the rust-colored hazy glow of the bar lights.

She watched the older man take her in with hard eyes, and nod, carefully, casting glances this way and that—looking for hired muscle, assuming she needed such a silly thing. The younger stared at her, harder than he had any right to. Even as his companion sat down in the booth, he lingered, staring.

“Sit the fuck down,” his ‘friend’ told him.

But he didn’t. Finally, the young man smiled at her, “…I know you. You were the girl at the RCU North Library, third floor? Always third floor, always at like…four in the morning? Never earlier than two?”

‘Rama’ smiled her dark painted lips and motioned to the seat across from the older man, adjacent to her in the booth, “Sit, please.”

The older man had ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’ written across his face as he stared at the younger man, before he took on a pensive look when he turned to her, “I apologize for my friend, here, Rama. I needed an expert on this era, and I promise you, he knows what to look for in Late Republic era weaponry, even if maybe he doesn’t know how to have a meeting to save his life…whatever the fuck a RCU is.”

Her head tilted, though her lips remained flat, there was a hint of amusement in her dark eyes as she looked back to the younger man, before turning to Gaer, “He’s right,” she began, before turning back to the younger man, “It means Royal Charmath University. Renowned for its historical and archaeological archives. I was that girl, once, long ago, far, far away. I don’t remember you.”

His smile faded, like he was disappointed, “I would say hi from time to time, I asked you about a text you were reading once, about the history of—”

“—Taris,” she finished his sentence with a revelation of memory. “I remember you, now. Shy, quiet, bookish…with wandering eyes. You never introduced yourself, just clumsily walked into my focus and attention, praying for graciousness and kindness.”

“You weren’t cruel,” he said, having regained some of his smile with the knowledge that she recalled him.

She shrugged, “What’s your name?”

“Oh, uh,” he nearly stammered at her, “Tavian, Tavian Wyr. What’s yours?”

When she looked at Gaer, she saw more frustration, it amused her enough for her to be kind in her response to Tavian Wyr, “I suppose you should have asked me that back then, Tavian Wyr. Now it’s ‘Rama.’ Did you look at the item?”

Gaer took a long drink, as the older man and she watched the mirth of the young man drain out of him as she soundly rejected his nostalgia and attempt to be a new, older, man rather than the timid boy he’d been at RCU.

“Uh, yes. I would agree, the piece is missing some of the tubing, but it has what appear to be original filters…where did you find such a complete helmet of the Nihir pirates? I’d heard of some items from the excavation on-going by friends from Corellia but that was just mention of records, no actual items.”

‘Rama’ laughed out loud, and loudly. Gaer, to his credit, grimaced and cursed under his breath. “You’re satisfied, then, Gaer?”

“Yes. It’s legit. I have a client for it lined up. Is it where the last time was left for pickup?”

“He can go, then,” she said, abruptly, looking at Gaer.

Tavian Wyr sounded like he might protest, until anger flashed dull in Gaer’s rough voice, “You’ll get your fee, Wyr. She said leave, so fucking leave.”

She felt Wyr’s stare. It made her smile, to feel his angst, to feel his anger at rejection. She was even a little disappointed when he just turned and left, as if trying to re-establish some manner of pride.

“You said your expert had some questions regarding the authenticity of the item.”

Gaer all but grunted, “He said he did.”

“Bring another child around me, Gaer, and I’ll never answer another request from you again.” She took a hard, final, shot of her smoldering drink in the short, stubby, glass with it’s heavy metallic base and went to leave, abruptly, “Transfer the credits.”

On the way out she she found him just outside the establishment, his mass-produced coat and pants, synth-leather shoes, none of it matching the grim roughess of the outskirts of Coronet City. His glare was sullen, hurt. She rather enjoyed it, looking at him under her dark brown leather coat, and black tights, heavy leather boots with big dull metallic buckles. “You were a coward.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t a real thing, just a defense, and bitterly done, “What was I supposed to do?”

“Ask me my name, ten years ago…c’mon. Let’s have a drink.” She wanted to shock him, she wanted to hurt him, she wanted to leave him haunted for the rest of his life. “No names. You can tell me about this magnificent excavation of your friends.”

When she left the hotel room the next morning, she left him asleep, ankles still fastened to the frame of the bed, exhausted from the cocktail of pleasure and pain…she left with his personal devices, with information on his friends, and what they were up to on Yavin IV. By the time the light of day began to hit the streets of Coronet City, she had changed into sleeveless black on black tights and black slender boots. Her hair was down, loose, and her dark eyes wild as she came aboard the unnamed Wayfarer as quiet as a ghost in the dark.

It was then she caught the new droid in the back cargo bay. If a droid could jump in surprise, it might have, finding her staring at it from the other side of the aisles of shelving littered with everything from junk to parts to priceless artifacts. “We’re leaving. Careful, droid, you never know what’s back here…”

“We are departing to Chandrilla?

She grinned, “Unplanned detour. Yavin IV. I’ll get you to Chandrilla after, as agreed. Just…” she motioned to the treasures in the back cargo bay of the Wayfarer, “don’t touch.”

[Fiber]

When reading over the intel on Yavin IV, Kyn found himself relieved that at least it was temperate. Plenty of places that needed his skills were out in the middle of nowhere and home to environments so hostile that he spent more effort protecting himself from it than from whoever he was actually supposed to be fighting. The planet wasn’t known for much except the first Death Star meeting its end, but even that wasn’t much a reason to visit. The Empire had kept everyone away and now the debris had fallen into the gas giant, there was nothing to commemorate the occasion except empty space. Not that he expected to see much on the ground either, he knew there was a dig site, and that before the fall of the Empire there was a garrison from when they kicked the rebels out, no one cared enough to have much information on if any of the remnants had actually bothered to stay at the post once word that the New Republic was coming reached the planet.

Kyn checked the cockpit just to see that the droid pilot was still on its course. It was, well, to the extent that a non-pilot could discern, anyway. The droid wasn’t much good for conversation, wasn’t much good for anything except being a reliable pilot, though even that was only in normal circumstances. These glorified space taxis did not do well if they encountered any actual hostiles. At least it gave him plenty of cargo space to himself, a luxury that he didn’t have in the past when he’d been hitching a ride along with some other guns for hire. All of his gear was there, the camping and survival supplies for setting up wherever he found a quiet place in the backcountry, medical supplies in case things went bad, his trusty grenade launcher and pistols, and a probably excessive amount of explosives. Kyn always said he’d rather have too much rather than not enough.

The next thing to do was to review the map of the planet. Yavin IV wasn’t well mapped, and the best he had to go off of was an old survey made by the empire that he got by greasing the right palm. One thing that was clear from the start was how thick the jungle was, great for hiding, not good at all for navigating. Few permanent settlements existed, and much of the planet was beyond their reach. Thankfully, Kyn didn’t have to go searching too far for what he was interested in: the old ziggurat that once held the rebel base. That was where his employer had told him to look, nowhere else. There was precious little information about what was inside. He knew that the rebellion had once used it as a base, but there were no maps or diagrams of its interior that he had access to. Whoever knew that info was either affiliated with the New Republic and unwilling to share, or still clinging to a pile of classified imperial documents and waiting for a price too high for a run of the mill mercenary to afford. His best bet might be just observing and learning from others, the kind of money Kyn’s employer was throwing around was large enough that Kyn doubted he would be the only one interested in seeing what it had to offer.

As the ship hurdled along, Kyn checked his messages again, there was nothing new. He thought he might as well re-read the messages from his mysterious employer, someone who had paid enough to earn some protection against prying questions. Kyn liked the basics of the job. The advance was sizable, enough to cover the cost of supplies and even a droid shuttle rental. The setup was sound too, they were worked with one of Kyn’s most trusted intermediaries, were willing to provide proof of the money beforehand, and didn’t insist on any potentially dicey meetups, it was all fine as long as the artifacts made it to them safe. Those artifacts were the only part that gave Kyn pause. The job had come with a thick packet of files on how to spot exactly what the client was looking for, and included a price list for each type, this job could be anywhere from very profitable to enough to actually buy a cheap homestead on the outer rim and lay up his guns for good. That’d be the life.

The ship was getting closer to Yavin, closer to the point where it would drop him off in thick of the jungle and then head back to orbit, waiting for his call. Kyn had done enough preparation and looked for something else to do. For a moment, Kyn stared at the messages again, hoping for something else to show up. He started to type in the search bar to re-read some old ones, reminisce about what he used to have, but stopped himself when he thought about how it would feel when he saw how long it had been since the last reply.

[LadyRunic]

Drip.

There was something amiss. She could sense it. The feel of the air had changed ever so slightly in the small cell that was considered a room for the young acolyte. Young, as if there were not children here learning all the Elders could teach them. They had little choice in the matter, the young woman mussed. It was learn or die in the dilapidated temple that was considered the training ground for those sensitive in the Force. It once had stood taller, but now half of it had sunk in the much of the swamp and the rest was falling apart bit by bit. Soon there would be left to remember the Sith Lords by except these teachings and the harsh way of life on the planet.

Drip.

The water droplet smacked against her knee. The woman ignored it, for she felt it. The water of the swamp, the air. The Force was flowing about a rock. A interference to it's normal course. Gleaming yellow eyes opened in the rat infested pit as the woman stood slowly. Her form was a good deal too thin, but such was it in the Temple. Those who did not please the Elders did not eat as grandly as the rest, and the last thing she did was please the old windbags. A cruel smile taunting on her lips as she moved through the narrow passages. Several of the younger acolytes pressing against the stone and lowering their gazes. As they should! Mor'gann Arhar, was what they called her. She knew not her kin and had no friends amongst the Temple. Not the Elders would have permitted friendship to exist.

Mor'gann was a woman in a man's world, as far as the Elders who ran the Temple were concerned. Her power was not brawn like so many of the young lads, or older lads for that matter. But it was not sheer strength in the Force either. Many lacked the strength she had, and others out matched her. But her power laid in another side of the puzzle. The twisting of the rules and the calculating mind she possessed. Cloaking herself in the shadows of the wider halls, the woman slipped down the deserted halls to the treasured relic.

It was the pride and joy of the temple, and she had been whipped the last time she had dared to walk this hall. But now, she was not merely going to walk. Her eyes gleamed as she studied the two guards on duty. The other four were off. No doubt neglecting their duties, for who would think to challenge two of the 'instructors' that would be Elders in their time? They stiffened as she walked towards them, raising their thick staves. Raising a hand, she jerked the staves to her- one of the men landing on his face. But the staff was in her hand and the other was being beaten viciously back. Cracking the downed man on the back of the head lest he raise the alarm. She blocked the blow of the still standing guardian and twisted around to his back. There was a second vicious pop before the man toppled over the first. Dead. It was just as well, and with good measure she broke the neck of the first.

It wouldn't do to leave witnesses.

Opening the weary looking door, she walked down the great hall and to the podium. Her ragged cloak being pulled on while she did so. Soon this place would be swarmed, for the Elders would sense that something was amiss in the Temple at least. The contempt in her thoughts filled her with pride. She was better than they. She had gotten this far and the relic was hers. Her bare hand closed about the lightsaber. The metal feeling grimy and odd. It was old, most likely not having much left to give.

But it would do.

It would have to.

Turning she slipped amongst the shadows as other robed acolytes much like her hurried to the scene. Let them run there, she would find this anomaly and deal with it. Then, for good or ill, she would be away from this backwater- quite literally in some instances- planet. Following the sense of the abnormal stirring of the Force, Mor'ann smiled as she heard the furious yells behind her as they discovered their loss. They would have some trouble sorting this out. All the better for her, though that would not last long if they used their head and set aside the petty squabbles that left them in the ruins when the stars reach above.

Now, she was off to try and find a way off this planet and that meant a ship, a captain and if she had to? Mor’gann was not against trying to fly the things, though she would not know the first thing about it. The murk about her opened in the foggy light of day, the sun sinking towards the horizon. The hunting parties would be out and seeking prey, it was just as well because as her feet found the more solid ground and her form slid between the foliage and into the forests of Dxun, she heard the roar of one of the more burly elders finding their loss.

“Codari, pack it up. Dad’s almost done with the research. Aunt V’s bringing the ship in.” The two boys clad in Beskar had been watching the sporadic movements of the forest. Kanis hated desolate worlds like this, give him a bar or some place to relax. Instead for days now it had been patrol’s near the temple complex. At least they had good intel on the place now... An entire temple complex made from Mandalorian Iron, a hell of a find and one they could use. It would give Ordo more beskar than any other clan at the moment... They just had to figure out how to get the stuff off the world quietly. Natives, wildlife, and made this place the opposite of habitable, even to Mandalorians.

Codari rolled his eyes, as he finished getting the last bag of camping supplies together. “Where has Auntie V been anyway? She shot off after we got here like she had no interest in the temple.” Kanis chuckled as he patted his brother on the back.

“She doesn’t, went off to paint... Dxun and Onderon will pass close enough to exchange atmospheres... And critters. Hence she wanted a chance to paint the happening in real time.” Explained the older brother as they heard noises, then cries and howls of anger. “Locals making a lot of noise, maybe we ought to give’em a scare? Dad said the only thing they respect out here is strength?”

Codari chuckled. “Always more balls and blasters than brains with you... They won’t come out this way, this temple usually brings all sort of ill will. Why do you think Bogan is so strong here?”

“Yeah, yeah... Smartass. Where the hell is dad then?” He asked, turning back towards the entrance to the temple of Freedom Nadd with a hope they’d be gone before something worse arrived than the corpses of wildlife they’d already had to stack having been driven mad by the well of darkness beneath them.

The other temple would be a good place to begin, perhaps finding more power. That was the reason that had Mor’gann fleeing from the swamps and over the great boles of trees. What she had not expected were others already there and the foliage exploded as the thin woman burst from the trees to stop short. Her body instantly twisting into a fighting stance as she stared up at the great obsidian tower. Her yellow gaze switching to the two figures at it’s base. Her robe a cloth that had more holes and ragged tears than not. The sash about her middle stained with what would look like, and was in fact, fresh blood. A hunting party had come across her and she had left the two men and one of their spears behind her, the second spear in hand as she leveled it at the two youths.

Acolytes? No, they were not from Dxun, that fact was instant relevant as she noted their odd implements and their gear. Sparing no look behind her, the pursuit would take some time to find the trail and then keep it. She had survived so long keeping herself to the shadows and out of sight. “You… Have you a ship?” Her words came out in a combination of Old Mandella, High Galactic, Ancient Sith melded into an odd dialect. Making a noise of irritation, of course they wouldn’t understand the outlanders never did. Fumbling for the words, she repeated herself though with less fluency than Mor’gann would have liked. “Have. You. Ship.” The question more of a command in a voice that was harsh and as sharp as her features. The thin chest under those robes rising and falling with harsh breathing that came from running and running hard. Her chin length hair mused from the run through the jungle, as if she noticed anyways. “That armor… “ It was fairly familiar. She had seen such among the populace of her tribe, or the tribe she had just beaten with a stick and left.

Kanis had his rifle on her the minute she cleared the brush, watching her through his helmet’s visor. His armor was dull gold, as she approached muttering something, before speaking more clearly in her... Strangely, he could make a bit of it but the dialect and tone suggested a question, maybe she was asking if there were more of them. A scout for the assault... Or one of them running from the danger?

Codari began to approach her, understanding her a bit better as he stood up walking slowly towards. “Ship. We have.” He answered, before trying to reach out, telepathic communication would be faster than struggling with a language barrier. He snapped back a moment later as he felt her defenses. “She’s sensitive to it.” He answered by taking a step back now, his head flicked to her sash where the saber lay hidden. A moment of realization came to him. “Kanis she might be-”

Kanis already sensed his brother’s answer before he could finish dropping the rifle and pulled his staff a piece of wood? For a man wearing that much metal armor. The other slightly slimmer if taller one produced a saber and took the metal shield off his back. Kanis tilted his head towards his brother and his armor red to honor their father. “Sith. She’s a threat. No doubt here for something in the temple.” He pointed the staff at her, unlike his more gentle brother a command entered her mind. ‘Drop your weapons and surrender’ she could feel his voice in her mind as he readied himself for battle; they were not simple acolytes; they had weapons and arms beyond this world.

Whatever she had expected, that something brushed against her. Her gaze flashed with outrage at this trap? A ploy by the Elders? They had a ship though, for that? A way off Dxun was something she would fight for. With everything she had, so when the one approaching paused, Mor'gann found words projected into her mind. That was not something she had expected, and it was not something she had time for. They had something she wanted, a way off Dxun. Considering the options, she cast the spear to the side with a careless toss. If they thought that made her dangerous? They would find themselves mistaken. Yet… Two against one? Unknown and outmatched as she was? One with a stick and the other with a lightsaber, a tool of legend? It would be best to appear to be meek and mild. It was a ploy she had used before to great effect and these fools hardly knew her. “Ssssith.” She hissed the work, softly tracing over how they spoke their language. It would be useful later after all. The saber stuffed into the sash about her waist beneath her robes was ignored at least for the moment. Men would always get cocky, make mistakes, they all did.

Codari frowned. “Brother... She’s baiting you.” Unlike the others he wore a chest plate, shin high boots, and guards along the arms but his frame was more so robes. Tall with slightly narrower shoulders than his companion, the shield and lightsaber he carried was unique and different from other styles she has seen of combat with such a weapon.

“No, she’s underestimating me. Jedi kill Sith, it is the way of things.” He answered firmly, eliciting groans from his brother. As he did Kanis lunged forward striking out with the staff pivoting with its strike at core trying to knock her back. Codari for his part watched and circled around her slowly as if watching her yet she’d note his helmet would block most of his vision upon her. His golden armor adorned his entire frame, stocky a bit shorter than the other. Clearly he looked stronger, the authority in his tone made him the older brother.

Neither gave way much of their appearance beneath the armor as cloth hung around it of simple brown. Both able to be seen more clearly now as they advanced upon her, one cautious and one eager yet... She felt something else from within the temple, another presence perhaps?

They were already arguing? What a joy, this would be all the easier. Still as the one lunged, she slipped to the side, her fist striking out as she twisted to attempt to drive a knee into the lad’s back as she passed. Ideally the slide to the side would take her away from the circling one. Her gaze piercing as she drew one of the skinning knives from her sash, and one for fighting. The latter heavier as she adopted a crouch. Not attacking, unless they did but patiently waiting. At least for the moment. “Sith kill Jed’ii.” She repeated the words with her accent twisted upon them.

Kanis grunted, the kick mostly deadened by the plate; it still annoyed him as raised his gauntlet and aimed it.

Codari yelled. “No whistling birds! You know the rules. Those are not a toy Kanis!” The younger brother spoke moving forward; he tossed the rounded shield into the air as she watched it sail towards her as he moved to grip his brother’s arm. “We do not kill unless there is no other choice!”

Kanis wrenched his arm free with a growl. “I’ll dispatch worshippers of the dark how I please! It is their fault the galaxy is so terrible!” He screamed as reached back for one of the black and gray spheres on his belt.

Siezing the shield using the Force, she let it carry about her in a semi circle to hurl it back at the two. Sweat broke out on her brow at doing that with the speed and at the drop of a pin. Still, it was needed. It appeared that those ancient Sith the temple tried to emulate were a sore spot for one lad. That was something she could play on. “Worshippers.” She gave a dark chuckle, amused as she straightened. There was a word she was unfamiliar with. Resorting to her native tongue, his anger would drive him if she dropped some of the words she did know in just to rile him with what was not known. “Oh, so you are troubled by the Sith? For what they did to the Jed’ii? You scream and howl like a pack of maalraas pups. I kill, slaughtered, them for practice.”

It was time to draw that weapon. He had one, and fighting him bare handed wasn’t doing anything to hurt him. Not that she wanted to hurt him. Someone had to pilot the ship. Surely the other one would do just as well. Reaching into her robe, she pulled the lightsaber free and smacked it hard against her leg. Igniting the flickering red light from the ancient looking thing. “Angry boy. One ship. One kill.” She crooned, purring as she waited for the charge she expected. Men were always charging.

Kanis rolled in time and brought a gauntleted hand up to catch his brother’s shield. With one hand he took a deep breath handing it to his brother. “Right... I’m sorry... I can’t.”

Codari reached over, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder slowly spreading the calm from him to his brother. Brother. We can’t win this like this... Together?

Kanis nodded as he took off his helmet, the red haired young man stared harshly forward as he took a breath. Together. Rise like steam.

Codari answered in his thoughts. Fall like rain. He dropped his shield taking his brother’s staff. She heard no words between them now. As he turned off his saber handing it to his brother. Who produced his own, Codari stepped infront the once more cautious brother centered himself pointing the staff at her. Not a charge he slowly advanced towards her as he came to a stop twenty paces from her. Taking a defensive posture his brother rushed forward kicking off his back he entered the air. No longer were they bickering they fought now more as one than a pair of snapping hounds. Landing behind her ignited the twin sabers as Codari advanced from her front trapped between the now co-operating pair as a great noise filled the air and the gates that ancient metal temple began to open.

A smirk crossed her lips as she saw what they were doing. This was actually a challenge, a fight. One against opponents that were clever. Not that her kinsmen were not smart, they were just focused on survival and had grown in a vicious society. As had she. Though now that one was on either side? A tactical retreat was most likely called for. Being between snapping maalraas was not a good place to be. Letting the one behind her lash out with his sabers she would knock them away, deflecting them as she launched herself in her own jump away and further towards the forest. Away from the temple. Another was coming from the depths of the temple and she was indeed out numbered. Best to retreat. Watch, learn and then perhaps stowaway. Twisting she scooped up the spear and cast it at Kanis, the red hair a shock to one used to darker locks. The motion smooth and practiced from years living on Dxun. Twisting, she sought to leap again and into the fringe of the forest. To disappear amongst the trees. A surprise attack was to her advantage and the fight had turned against her.

“That’s enough children.” A voice called, Mor’gann’s spear stopping in the air... Then clattering to the ground. As emerging from the temple doors was a figure clad in born robes, bandages covered his eyes with red hair sticking out in tufts he carried a metal staff. Yet she saw no other weapon; he had only raised a hand. He did not turn yet in her own language. “You are there among the trees and brush. Come forward child... Let me look into your heart and see if you may leave the accursed planet we stand on.” He spoke without yelling yet she felt it as a command, his presence almost calming and... Warming the older man was blind yet from the one she had seen the boys must be his sons.

On a planet such as Dxun drowning in the dark the peace of light someone like Airus brought to the world was... Rare and strange. Perhaps this was the real Jetti, the thing that had brought low the builders of the temple he emerged from time and time again.

She hesitated, stunned by the spear falling as if the language the man spoke was not enough. For it was her own and Mor'gann had never heard someone not from Dxun speak it. It was enough though to pause her flight entirely. Her wrist flexed as she twirled and twisted the lightsaber in a pattern at ease. Ready to fight despite al, for fighting was the blood and bone of survival. “You speak the language, though you are not from Dxun. No man so injured would stand here.” How could he see into her heart unless he meant to talk? Still she moved no closer, her stance still and poised to fight or flee as the weapon in her hand moved from side to side waiting to strike. After being attacked when she had offered words? Mor’gann was not going to be so open again. “You ask me to drop my guard when I was not the first to strike a blow? This is Dxun, no child survives upon this planet.”

Airus chuckled as he stepped towards her slowly but not cautious or wary of her. Even wielding a weapon such as she had. “I have no eyes yet... I know where you are. Where the life around me dwells. I feel the world laid bare to know a thing from its soul and emotions not from something so easily deceived as sight.” He spoke, stopping before her shaking his head. “You are scared. Lost. Alone. You want help but know not how to ask for it. You want to learn but know not what you need to learn.”

He reached forward as she felt him touch her mind, a moment passed, giving her a glimpse of his sight. She could feel the beasts in the distance, the rustle of leaves, and see the souls of herself and other two boys. No color could describe the swirling mass that made up the complexity of their aura. Even her own shifted and changed just in those moments. He stood close before her, cradling his staff tilting his head down towards her.

“Would you care to learn more than any elder of Dxun has dreamed in ten thousand years? I am a teacher. A keeper of history of things dead and living. If you are so curious to learn... You might forge your own weapon.” He spoke gesturing to the saber she clutched protectively. “Or learn to do as I just did.” He reached a hand back her spear shot to him with sudden speed as he offered it back to her. Letting her claim he reached up and placed a hand on her head patting it. “But before any of that... You are starving. We have plenty of food and not enough company for dinner, join us.”

Mor’gann glared at the man as he drew closer and closer. Too close and too irritating. Though his points were correct in a general sense, she still took a step back as he drew too close. Even offering her spear back to her, she did not move to take it. “You offer knowledge and aid. What is the cost?” Suspicions were there and for reasons. Nothing came for free on Dxun. Like a frozen creature though his hand was patting her head before she could react. It made the woman furious. Swiping the saber across the man’s arm, she angled to take his arm off at the elbow for the careless action.

His free hand came up, his brow furrowed as without retracting the hand she aimed to slice off the second move and caught the blow from the saber. For just a moment his hand braced against the searing plasma then with a push he shifted away. Looking at her his hands untouched by her blade. “If I can do that without a weapon. What might I do with one?” He asked her now, letting her understand that pushing him would not do her a service here.

“The cost? The cost is service. You will learn and grow under my tutelage, your mistakes will be my mistakes. Your choices will reflect on me. What do I ask? I ask that you grow wise and learn well... And if I am good enough. You will choose peace over violence.” He turned away from her, leaning his staff. “That and putting up with my two boys. They are both learning alongside you.”

It was a common enough cost, though found the concept of peace of violence alien to how life was on Dxun. Studying the way he blocked her blade, she had flinched. Now she was confused as he turned away after she had struck him. Still, there was nothing to say she couldn’t slip away later, and he did offer food. Slowly she deactivated the saber, moving from the stance. Still she was wary of the two boys, irritants she would call them. “You said you have food-?” He had been very correct on that point.

“Yes. However we should-” He was cut off by a loud boom as something emerged in the sky above.

Kanis grunting. “Too late Aunt V is here.” Mor’gann was treated to the sight of something her people had not seen since the clone wars. An old Republic Hammerhead Cruiser had begun its descent; it was larger than most any ship that came regularly by four or five times the size. As the blind man turned back towards her.

“Well... Let’s introduce you to my sister.” He spoke with a sigh almost defeated as the ramp dropped. She could read the name on the side in high galactic. The Blindluck. Seems whoever named the ship had a sense of humor.

Codari paused looking over at Mor’gann. “...Sorry about the fight.” He tried to speak her tongue... Though it sounded broken and disjointed. Seemed he did not have his father’s ability for speech.

The Dxun native glared at the ship, the writing’s joke lost on her. The one apologized, when fighting was natural? These were strange folk, still… It would be time practicing how to fit among the larger galaxy before she slipped away. “Your apology is meaning less.”

Codari blinked. “Everything has meaning. We just might not know at first glance.” He added through clearly a bit wounded by her words, the two boys moving to load gear. As emerging from the cockpit was a woman with long red hair and reddish skin. Her height a bit less than Airus’s as she glanced up and down Mor’gann.

“Airus what have I told you about picking up strays?” She spoke in a teasing tone circling Mor’gann. Before gasping a moment later.

“She's an interesting one Varina. Besides, her tribe would kill her if she stayed.She needs training to guard her thoughts and herself.” Airus spoke leaning against the wall with a sigh.

Varina rolled her eyes. “You have an ancient saber, one I would love to get a look at~'' She spoke not Mor’gann’s language yet it was as if someone translated it for her when she did speak. Airus chuckling a moment as he rolled his eyes.

“We are Jedi Knights... Airus.” He gestured to himself giving a formal bow. “And this-”

“Is Varina!” The more excitable woman answered, flourishing her own bow as for a moment she seemed to sparkle. “As for how you understand me. Airus is hearing me and translating the words in your mind. Nifty combination of comprehending speech and telepathy. Skills we can teach you. You’d be able to understand any species in the galaxy conversation.” She explained cheerily. “Now... Let me see that saber, and I’ll let you play with my box of parts for building new ones!” She spoke eagerly and excitedly.

The entire experience was unnerving and Mor’gann was regretting not fleeing. Giving a dark look to the man, she said slowly in her mother tongue. “Stop that. I do not require coddling.” Though she might require a shield away from that woman who now circled her bright and chatty. It was something she did not know how to deal with. Women and women like this were rare on Dxun, not rare they did not exist. Shoving the saber into her robes, she took a long strep away from the woman, alarmed by this behavior, though that step set Cordai between them.

Codari chuckled as he pulled off his helmet. “Yeah... She’s a lot... I’ll help you find a room.” He offered as Airus released his grip on her mind he grabbed Varina by the hood.

“Settle in Mor’gann! You’ll be with us awhile. It’s at least two weeks until our next stop.” He pulled the older woman who whined as he did.

“Airus! Airus it’s a new saber of ancient design! I wanna examine it! How can you be so mean to your sister?!” She cried as they vanished up to the bridge as Codari walked her down the halls. Stark white and gray cleaner than anything she had seen before.

“...Well you’ve met most of our little family. I’m Codari Vel Aath... My father and Aunt were up there.” He explained slowly walking her through the weaving hallway of the ship.

“Aunt…?” Another term unfamiliar to her. Though her tongue was using the common language found across the galaxy, not the Dxun pigeon that she had grown up with. Nor did she turn her back on the other boy, brother. Blood she guess from the looks the three men shared. Still she followed this Cordai. It seemed safer than getting ambushed by the woman again. Hesitating she gave up her name, it was hardly important but talking was hardly her strong suit. “Mor'gann. Arnhar.”

“Codari Vel Aath.” He spoke, stopping finally at a door that opened... A room all her own: a bed, shelves, a desk, even more room than some of the elders had in their homes. “My brother and I are on the other side of the hallway if you need anything. Please make yourself at home. I'll come get you for dinner soon.”

The room was not massive, large compared to some of the private quarters she had seen, but far larger than she herself felt comfortable with. Her movements were that of a cat mincing about an unknown and potentially dangerous territory. Which it was to her. Looking about it, there was subtle confusion in her gaze. “All this for one?” Though another worry was the single door in and out. “Large.” Perhaps she misunderstood something?

He walked in, opening another door showing the bathroom. “You can shower and use the facilities here. Yes. Honestly this is considered little space where we come from... My clan has an entire planet to ourselves.” Codari explained as he showed her around... She realized she could ask about why he and his father lacked eyes but not his brother.

Their blindness must be some ritual thing, as far as she was concerned. Blinking at the facilities, she grimaced. “Soft.” Too soft, she would become weak in a place like this. Though the facilities promised at least the grum of Dxun would be gone, hopefully for good. “You say this small? House five older acolytes, easily. Brother-fool he will not… revenge seek-?”

“He’s an idiot... But he listens to dad. He fought in the clone wars... Then against the Empire... Well you haven’t seen him fight... He’s a force of nature.” He lifted his lightsaber up a moment letting her see it. “His master was the Battlemaster... Greatest warrior among the Jedi. Yet he became a master of lore and ancient knowledge.” Codari explained with a proud smile. “Not to mention like me... He can see through walls, darkness, even see hidden objects on your person.”

“Wars…?” There was a perplexed look on Mor’gann impassive face. “Traders share some news but…” But she was an acolyte in disfavor. News got to her last and was often twisted. “Explain.”

Codari moved to the holo projector. Showing holo’s of soldiers fighting... And then she saw ten of thousands or more rows of machines advancing. A single Jedi at the head of the smaller force of soldiers clad in white. “The clone wars...” They would take their dinner in the room as Codari went over the last thirty years of galactic history.

[Fiber]

Her touch on the flight controls was gentle, measured. Raskta wished that she had the skills of the pilots she had known, those who made flying a true art, something they felt beyond the five senses. She was merely an amateur, knowing enough to handle basic maneuvers but far from sophisticated. The Echani had a saying, one that had served her well at all stages of her life, as a sport duelist, as a soldier, and as one of the royal guards: “Skill begins as slowness, matures to smoothness, and culminates in effortless alacrity”. So, as she took her ship on the journey from low orbit to treetop height, she did her best to make it slow and smooth, befitting the first stage of learning. It also wouldn’t do to damage the ship with a reckless maneuver; it was a technology demonstrator prototype from a line that never reached mass production, in truth she didn’t even know if there any others in the line still operational, and even if there were they would likely have different, higher-grade specifications.

A long descent gave time to survey the planet from above, and time for Raskta to contemplate. While at a stage that the autopilot could handle, she walked into the area she had set aside for meditation. It was at the tip of one of the long pointed frontal pieces of the hull, a place that had sat empty when the ship went from carrying her whole squad to just herself.

There had been nine of them. Three joined half-witted pretenders to throne, Admirals and Moffs that claimed to be Palpatine’s successor while having not one iota of his gifts. They had chosen their new masters based on who made the best offer in money and prestige, a pathetic notion. Two had gone out in a blaze of glory, staging reckless suicide attacks mere hours after they heard of Palpatine’s death. She respected them, sometimes even feeling guilty that she had not done the same, but she had lived to see how such thoughtless actions had resulted in no tangible gain for the empire. One vanished without a trace, rumored to be working as a mercenary or with New Republic Intelligence, both of which would only earn contempt from Raskta. One had chosen a path like Raskta, to live on and uphold the ideals of the empire, to stay in the shadows and look for subtle ways to ensure Palpatine’s dreams lived on. This path required utmost secrecy, and as such neither him nor Raskta knew how to find each other. Lastly, that had left the pilot, the one who had been everyone’s friend, and the last one Raskta had seen in person. He came to her with an idea that he had reached after much contemplation, joining the New Republic, pleading guilty and owning up to all of the sordid deeds that had been done in Palpatine’s name. He saw them as merciful and the only chance to live a different kind of life. It took all of Raskta’s willpower to fake agreement with it even for a few minutes, but that was enough time for him to unlock the ships controls and for her to stab him to death like the traitor he was.

Meditation was one of the things they taught her in the Royal Guards. They were strict about the method of it, all of the tenets were to be followed exactly and any questions as to why or where the technique came from were strictly forbidden. It began with focused intensity, concentration on any strong emotion, and letting the fire build inside. Then came the refinement, the desire to harness this raw emotion into willpower, to draw strength from it. Finally, came the moment for action, the clarity of purpose that came afterwards, driven forward by the innermost will and the ritual was complete. Some found it ineffective, some even loathed it, but Raskta found it to be a useful benefit. In her experience, it gave her a slight but noticeable performance increase after a session and was very useful for washing away any doubts she had before proceeding forward.

After finishing her meditation, she stared out the cockpit window and saw the Temple in the distance. She didn’t know what lay within, she didn't know if there would be others there, and she had only faint ideas of what the Sith was, but she went on because of one strong feeling. If there was anything like Palpatine left in the galaxy, if there was anything that could keep his legacy alive, it lay with whatever was left of the Sith. That possibility alone was worth risking everything, and her purpose was clear as she set the stealthy ship down on a ridge with a clear sightline to the ziggurat.

[Fiber]

There was a logic to the way the ship was organized, T1 was sure of it, but the reasoning was not anything that it could grasp at the moment. It was trying to understand it when Selene returned and warned him about the objects at the back, curiously, some of the one she had called out as dangerous did not give off any high readings for the energy signatures; building warships on Kuat meant dealing with fantastic amounts of energy but a droid’s sensors gave it a layer of safety that humans lacked, although there were always units where a sensor failure led to the whole processor getting fried when accidentally manipulating the wrong part of one of the lines feeding into a turbolaser battery.

They were already in space when T1 took a break from looking and spoke.

“Why did you warn me about that one? I’ve taken what you’ve said seriously, but I can not see what is dangerous about the objects you have collected in that section. It glows but I can not discern anything else worrying about it. I’m also curious as to the reason for visiting Yavin, if you are willing to share.”

It wasn’t clear whether she heard the droid, or not, the way her eyes, black in the shadowy lighting of the interior of the Wayfarer, stared through the thing as she stood at the end of the storage and its shelving. At least until the wicked, neon bright, grin spread across her lips like a shadow fell upon a lost horizon. Its systems would flutter and fluctuate in that exact, very, moment as the barest murmur of the Force reached out and touched the droid.

No matter how many scans, no matter how many internal log reviews, no matter the depth of the diagnostic, the droid would never know exactly how she went from standing where she was, to literally leaning into him, as if he had an ear for the whisper she gave him in the tone of secret truths.

“The universe whispers to my ears in dark languages, T1, the kind of languages that rarely survive,” in the moment the image of the coronation hall of the Summer Palace sparked to life like a fire in the back of her mind, the sight of cousins and uncles and aunts screaming and clawing at the doors that wouldn’t budge as Sela ir-Ramalla Vitaal, the seventh of her name, stopped being a victim of the galaxy and fate and greed, “I have spent my life following those whispers, and what that is, my inescapably strange droid passenger, is an echo. And in the appalling strangeness that is the blackness of this universe…even echoes can hurt you.”

After a few steps back, the grin was gone, it’s own echo of distant amusement still swirling in the ink pools that were her eyes in the back of the Wayfarer,

“Why Yavin?,” she shrugged, “just following whispers, T1.”

T1 had stopped looking at the treasures and turned to Selene. It had learned humans appreciated directional communication. He said
“Whispers, a quiet form of communication. Is this an aspect of the force? That it speaks, and its speech has the power to harm, and its speech can persist in this world? Forgive me if I am misinterpreting figurative language, most of my existence has been spent in the soundless vacuum, this may cause me to overlook subtleties.”

While it was looking at Selene, it was still checking the inventory of other devices, out of pure curiosity if Selene had picked up anything on this recent excursion.

“It becomes less defined, drifting off into the abstract…” She laughed, gently, as inner tension coiled up and snapped her right hand into her black, perfectly straight and silken hair, to push back with fingers so stiff they looked like they could snap combing through it in cathartic release, “everything is an aspect of the Force, and in the great juxtaposition of nothingness and matter, nothing is an aspect of the Force. Just know it’s like a place you simply should not be, T1, and the doorways will try to seal themselves shut at every opportunity.”
Sweetly, she smiled, “Simple, yes?"

T1 said

“Hard to say what is simple without understanding it. In binary we talk of simple as how much data it would take to convey it, with every trick in the book allowed. A million digits that are all zero is simple to describe, the first section of this sentence is an adequate substitute for writing the entire string. An exact description of a million truly random digits, following no pattern, that would evade any attempt to simplify it without losing some of the minutiae. I will attempt to keep my manipulators away from things that I do not understand in the future, I will make that pledge to you. Is there anything I can assist with?”

The chuckle was a ghost of a thing, barely there, “Learn some sarcasm, and,” she paused, really, really staring at the droid now, “get yourself in the best condition you can—you’re going planetside with me when we get to Yavin.”

The look on her face was cold, even if her eyes might have been apologetic, depending on the angle of the light and the play of the shadow to it in her eyes in that moment.

T1 began to run through the list of maintenance checks for planetary operation inside its mind and said
“Understood. Sarcasm was removed all droid brains procured by Kuat Drive Yards after an incident where a report of a quality defect that led to a warship’s turbolaser unintentionally firing upon a civilian population center was prefaced with ‘Great News!’”

[Ruby]

“You’re smiling,” the Protocol Droid said, sounding surprised, or scared, or both.

So, Selene just kept smiling as she holstered the K-16 after securing the lightsaber in the custom leather closeable pouch at the small of her back, and before checking to ensure the rest of her equipment was snug and each black leather pouch fastened tightly. It matched the rest of the leather shadow that clung to her body tightly; pants quilted on the exterior and around the ankle of each leg, for extra durability, with a jacket to match, itself quilted on the shoulders and arms and back.

No manufacturer tags. No symbols or any other decoration except for silver buttons, small and round, like a tear.

“It’s good you enjoy this part. As you know, we droids will lock the Wayfarer and ensure the auto turrets are active.”

Selene just looked up as she depressed the Wayfarer’s control mechanism for its main hold door, the magnetic containment field automatically switched off due to the presence of atmosphere, “You’ll all be fine until I’m back. You know what to do if I never come back?”

The droid’s head just twitched, before it answered, “Initiate self-destruct and leave the vessel.”

“The new droid is taking one of the Undicurs,” she said, as she brought the black and grey T-85 Speeder Bike to life, its engine and exhaust notes nothing short of perfection to her ears and hands.

“Is the Undicur rated for that weight?”

Selene shrugged, her lips spreading dagger thin into a full-on smirk, “If not, it knows how to repair it, and modify it, I think. Have it take the reinforced one we used for that Trandoshan that worked for the Hutts.”

“Master, is it worth bringing u—”

“—no,” she cut the protocol droid off, taking her seat on the T-85 and letting its engine roar to life, louder than before, angrier than before. Nothing else was said before the speeder bike, and its rider, were gone.

If the droid could sigh, it might have, but there was no use. It had limited enough memory as it was, even its designation was lost to modifications and re-writes. It was as hopeless an endeavor as arguing to Selene that she shouldn’t take T1. When the woman disappeared in the jungle of the moon, the droid turned its head and addressed T1 as it appeared from the back, from the secondary cargo hold, from the Master’s ‘private stock.’

“Take the heavy speeder left in the speeder hold.”

The wind and thick, humid, air of Yavin 4 hit her nearly as hard as other, less tangible, sensations. Her right hand kept hold of the bike’s throttle and break, her left at her side, as if she wasn’t speeding through an alien jungle, but just out for a casual ride on a salt flat. She rode it like a speed biker, with absolute ease and supreme confidence. She rode it often enough; she had torn it down and rebuilt it nearly a dozen times. Modified it, improved it, gotten to know its every component.

It's good she knew it so well, because her mind wandered: the Force ebbed and flowed in quicker currents on the planet than most places. It quickened her heart and pumped adrenaline through her body. There was something here, if not more than one something. Was it the Temple? Was it someone else? That was harder to tell. It was like trying to spot a glittering shimmer in front of a bright star. The light behind it was blinding, it took real skill and practice to make out the shimmer before the raging brilliance.

At one point she found an abandoned jungle camp, all prefabs; buildings, walls, towers. Imperial, no doubt, as its towers overlooked a swampy portion of the jungle. It wasn’t hard to notice the reason for such a remote camp: there were still large, jagged, chunks sticking out of the swamp—Death Star salvage. It had been an Imperial obsession, as much a reason for their presence on the moon after the Battle of Yavin as making sure the Rebels didn’t return to the moon. A little digging around, a few trinkets found, and she was off again.

She found a path that led to the Temple and followed it until the thickness of jungle suddenly gave way to clearing, as the Temple used to destroy a Death Star dominated the world before her. She wasn’t shy about her approach, speeding straight up to the massive open blast door of one of the Temple’s bays, the contrast between bright Yavin sun and Temple interior shade taking her eyes a millisecond to adjust to, as she recognized the prefabs of the Coruscant teams camp, her eyes taking in the sight even as she came to a stop next to the armed man holding up his hand.

She never looked at him, or his hand, but she stopped all the same next to him.

He didn’t seem to like her. He must have been local. “No visitors. This area is off limits, joint venture of the Wetyin Colonial Authority and the University of Coruscant. Turn around.”

Her hands busied themselves with her ink-black hair, pinned up in a tight bun, as it was, instead of responding to him. When he began to speak again, she was happy to cut him off, “I’m an investor in the dig. University of Charmath.”

He eyes never blinked, they just narrowed, “Wait here,” he said in a dull tone before he retreated further into the Temple. It was Doctor Andrejo Iizia that accompanied the man back to her, his face bright, happy, as he waved and shouted in her direction. She chuckled at him, waiting until he arrived, “Doctor Ramalla!”

“This is the Assistant Dean?” She heard the militiaman ask, in disbelief, believing he was well out of her earshot.

Iizia’s tone grew stern in response to the man, even as he smiled and waved at her, “She’s a bloody Queen, ensure your team is respectful in her presence.”

She could have giggled, instead focusing the energy into a smile for the older man, one of the co-directors of the dig, “Hello Andrejo, it’s been a long time.”

“Thank you, again, for your financial support, Doctor—”

“—Sela,” she graciously allowed him.

His sunburnt face almost showed a tint of reddish pink at the correction from the woman, “Sela, of course.” His intelligence quickly took her in, and his face double-took, even as a new kind of highly amused laugh overtook him, “you are here to do more than visit, you look like you are here to adventure, not just dig!”

“In my experience, Andrejo, the two are often intertwined.”

“Ha! I’ve heard some of your stories, third or fourth hand, of course, but dazzling with excitement none-the-less. Um, you can park your speeder bike by the large building, and I’ll give you a tour?”

She nodded, and thanked him, before smiling up at the guard as she passed him. It was anger, it was darkness, she felt…but none of that was from the guard, but the energies she felt coming from the rest of the camp.

What am I riding into?

[Almalthia]

---

---

After having met the Dameron family Jaslyn knew that she would have to find a place to live. The lush jungle was so different from Dantooine where she had lived on the plains quite a ways from the city. The press of the minds and emotions within a city would quickly become oppressive and affect her negatively. She would need to see if there was by chance a dwelling that was abandoned by someone or even one that she could rent or purchase. Pulling out a datapad she punched in the information and found an acceptable place. It was on the large side but she couldn’t complain since it fit her requirements of being away from the hub of activity and fairly isolated with the nearest neighbor being more than three kilometers away. It was described as being two stories with the second one built into the ground. She located the place she was going to so that she could claim the dwelling. This would take up most of her funds so she hoped that it was at least serviceable.

Walking out of the office a new home owner Jaslyn sighed at the fact that she was going to have to buy a speeder and likely one that was on its last leg. Shifting her pack she trecked over to where the last owner had told her the speeder shop was. As she entered a Chadra-fan squeaked out in Basic “Be right wit’ ya.”

“No rush, friend.” Jaslyn responded looking around at the brick brack and hodge podge of parts mixed in with fully functioning items. There were what looked like add ons, upgrades and other things that you might use to tune a speeder. “Just looking to get a speeder that will get me from point A to point B.”

A grunt and some things clattering was the answer that Jaslyn received before a long pause and a shout. “Nothin’ fancy then? Boring but I can have it ready in a couple of hours. Come back then.”

“Thank you.” Jaslyn exited the shop and in no particular hurry started walking. She had no where in mind and found herself in a cantina drawn there not knowing why exactly. Out of the corner of her eye Jaslyn saw something. She turned toward the object in curiosity and blinked not seeing it. It was like it vanished.

Walking up to the bar Jaslyn ordered and paid picking a seat with her back to the wall as well as in a dark corner. Sitting down she passed the time by sipping on her drink and reading about ancient history. The story was about the schism that started the division of the Je'daii in the Jedi and Sith order.

Jaslyn. A dry hoarse unused voice whispered like a snake sliding across dry dead leaves.

Looking up and around the empty cantina Jaslyn saw no one but heard soft male laughter that matched the voice that called her name. The bartender was a woman. Jaslyn locked back at the datapad and saw something very different than what she was on previously.

Information about Yavin IV, a map of temples. A slender pale finger tipped with a long polished nail painted a deep violet tapping on a temple that was hours outside the colony, if you took a speeder or transport of some kind. “Here.” The voice was rich, crystal and chime-like and very clearly female. She blinked and the datapad in her hands was again the history of the Je’daii.

Suddenly Jaslyn put down the datapad on the table and spread her hands flat with fingers splayed wide as the sound changed around her, sending her head spinning. She could hear a heartbeat that was not hers. A throbbing pulsing insistent beat that was much different from her own. Her’s was racing she could tell. This one felt… different. She felt her heartbeat slow to keep time with the one she could hear. When her heartbeat synced up with the one she could hear something in her shifted and with a wave of intense vertigo the world righted itself and changed fundamentally.

Breathing deeply and reaching for a calmness that she didn’t feel Jaslyn blew out a shaky breath and felt a thread of a different presence. Her head turned to look out the window to the jungle and she had a feeling that the temple that the woman’s finger tapped was in that direction. Jaslynn stood and put the datapad back in her bag and waved at the bartender. She felt a pulse and tug within her toward that place in the jungle that had to be the temple. With the rest of her credits she bought survival equipment and food to take with her the pulse throbbing with an ache unlike she have ever experienced.

Coincidently it had been two hours and the speeder was ready. Jaslyn put her bags in the speeder’s compartment and started it up. The speeder kicked on and it took everything she had to not open it up and race into the jungle. She got to the end of the colony and opened herself up to the Force and followed the pull that got stronger with every kilometer. Dodging trees with the anticipation of the Force was child’s play for Jaslyn; her mind was on the growing presence she felt at the end of her journey.

No one had stood out so clearly as this and yet was shrouded in mystery. The dichotomy of it was so enthralling that Jaslyn could not pull her focus from it. Curiosity and passion had always been something that she could never really scrub from her personality and her Master never required it fully. She had heard tales of Obi-Wan, Anakin and Qui-Gon from the age of twelve and on. Master Thracia had never required it of her and told her that there were things that the Jedi Order got wrong and that predecessors had right. She even pointed out that some things the Jensaarai did they did correctly. Jaslyn slowed and stopped to eat and drink as she pondered what she was racing toward.

[Apollosarcher]

Everything was entirely strange upon this ship. The bed too soft, the room too big, things were too bright. All in all? Mor’gann was disconcerted by the actions of this strange family. She remained thus far because they were trapped together in space, but was thinking of what it would be like to be on another planet with unease. Were all off-worlders so strange and different? As talkative and flighty as the ‘Aunt’, a term she had come to learn was meaning father’s sister, or as impossible to read as Airus? Codari was well enough, a useful source of information and someone she felt she could best. An odd thing as she could not best his father who had the same condition. Something the youth had said stuck with the slight woman. ““Not to mention like me... He can see through walls, darkness, even see hidden objects on your person.” What had he meant by that? Both could see without their eyes as their sire could? It was a strange and unnerving thought and left her with no way to conceal in the physical if such was the case.

Meditating on the matter, she perched on the desk. She needed a weapon and something better than the relic she had clung to. It had power but it was pale in comparison to what was on this ship. A few days of food and proper bathing had rid the muck of Dxun from her and she was not going to miss the murk of her home planet. There was nothing that would rid her of the scars that littered her body or her yellow eyes, but such was life. Still… Nothing here made sense, though if she was to learn… At least it was not under constant threat. Or was that a detriment? Dxun had been ruthless and with reason. The weak or stupid died quickly. Would this new Elder be different? An easier trainer of youths or harder? Remembering how he had laid a hand upon her head, she felt her face twitch in irritation. Was he so assured of himself to be so reckless? What sort of power did that take to be so?

The sound of a staff thumping along the halls. As Airus walked to the room of their guest. Sparks whirring the little droid had loved this part. “It is time for training Mor'gann I want to see what you can do with that saber.” She heard his voice as the door opened and he waited for her to answer him.

She realized if he could see through walls and such she'd never have privacy that a room normally affords her. “Come. We have room in the hangar bay for you to practice.”

Privacy was a novelty to someone who had to be wary about attacks from rivals or anyone who wanted a piece of what she had. Her body uncoiled as she stepped from her seat upon the desk. “So be it.” Her tone was emotionless and could be considered cold, though in truth she was trying to be meek. Not wanting to find herself on the outs with the man upon his ship. It would hardly go well if that happened. Her hand sliding the old weapon into her sash. Her gaze flickered to the odd droid at his side. “Where-?” Was the hangar, she let the rest of the sentence fall off as she followed after Airus, her footsteps near silent on the ship.

Airus slowly moved, soft steps interrupted by the thump of that heavy staff. They proceeded down a set of stairs and towards a great empty room. Fighters from his days with the Rebels littered some working, some being repaired, some scraps of barely held together junk. “I will start you with something all younglings learn.” And something that will give you a way to understand me, he thought. Stepping away from her as he moved towards three little black spheres... And a pilot's helmet.

“You will learn to feel the world. Let go and understand without eyes how to trust the force.”

Trust the Force… The feeling about her, yes. She understood that, though she hardly said that. The hints of danger, the feel in the air. Looking over at the pilot helmet and the black spheres, she could not comprehend what they had to do with this training. Mostly because training had consisted of people trying to kill each other on Dxun.

Airus slowly picked up the helmet. His gloved hands running over it slowly, it had been Varina's once... During the clone wars. Now it serves as a training implement rather than any practical use. How he wanted to relive the warmth of campfires and talking with clones long since dead... But that would not be the memory engraved upon this helmet. Turning he engaged the blast shield, then tossing each sphere they began to hover.

“These droids will fire at you... Your saber reflects their shots when placed within its path.” He stepped over and placed the helmet upon her head. “Can you see?”

When the helmet was placed over her head, Mor'gann froze shifting from relying on her sight. So she was to reflect the fire of the droids? “No.” Her voice was tense as she answered the question, easing the saber from her sash. “Not at all.”

“Good. Turn on your saber, take your stance. Sense the world. Feel the shifts and movements. Do not resist it, let it guide your actions.” Airus spoke, placing a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “It will be a light sting. Nothing painful enough to last.” He waited for her to ready then whistled the first droid shifting an pitch elevation in front of her.

Her frame was slight, thin. Her shoulders bony under the shirt. Easing into the stance that kept her balance steady despite the quick movements she preferred to use to avoid attacks, or to strike herself. The saber turned on as she eased it slightly from side to side. It would take the attention off her body if the foe she faced was a novice. Feeling the darkness and the sense of blankness before her eyes. She did not see so much as sense the flickering of the saber. The world about her was a river, a constant movement as she listened. Not for a sound but for something.

The droid fired, the red blade of light snapped to the side a second too slow. This felt different from hearing the footsteps, the rough breath, the worrisome feel of enemies about her. Jerking as the sting struck her side, shock more than anything. It was not painful, an annoyance compared to wounds she had taken prior. Mor’gann’s jaw tightened as she kept following that odd sense of something.

“Stop thinking. These are droids. An enemy that does think, breath, shift, or do anything that a normal foe would. I have tens of thousands of them. A foe that is common in the galaxy. They are predictable though. More than any living foe.” Airus explained as he whistled again the droid moving back to ready position. “Learning to feel the world without sight is key. You must hone your body. It is that which can guide you all else fails. You faced two Padawans. The lowest level of able bodied warrior Jedi allowed in the field. They held back.” He explained curiously, he needed to discover if anger fueled her... Or if he might find a new path. If she could be taught another way to connect. His thoughts ventured back to Night Sisters he had known... If he could not, they would be a good home for the girl. She'd do well in their society.

Mor'gann bristled at the slight to her ability. "I had a need to keep them, one at least, able and willingly. Had I been going to kill them I would not have struck so openly and defensively.I would not have held back." Her voice was irritable as she felt that bit of offness floating about. How did she fight without thinking? Thinking had kept her alive for years, but she was blinded. Stamping on the irritation she felt, the woman shunted it to the side as she focused on what was before her. That stillness of doing what needed to be done. Being caught by surprise was fine enough, being unable to adapt was unacceptable. Dropping her mind from the petty annoyance of feeling slighted. It was cold, not rage that Mor’gann found at her core. Fury had its place, but now was not in it. She had faced packs of maalraas, the deadly beasts were far more stealthy than this droid. They were deadlier as well. “It is different. Off. It does not feel-” She flicked her wrist and caught the bolt that meant to sting her thigh. Knocking it aside before she brought the blade to that wavering sinuous movement before her. Her brow under the helmet was knitted, that had been too close. “If I had merely let them win, would I still have gotten off Dxun? That was the goal, nothing else mattered.”

“I would have brought you regardless... My family are not renowned as warriors or leaders. We are known for our gift. Empathy, not only can sense you through my connections but I can hear your mind. See your soul. With telepathy I might hear your thoughts.” Airus stepped around her, his tone soft and thoughtful. His head shifts taking in her aura and down her judging from the deepest point out.

“Throw out survival. Throw away power. What do you want? What is the purpose you seek?” He added, he could infer and guess but she needed to find out things he could see. Truth was relative even to those who didn't yet know it.

“Surviv-” She blinked behind the visor and considered the question again. What was there outside of survival and the power needed to it? Her fingers adjusted their grip about the saber in consideration. “What is that word… Empathy-?” The way she sounded the word was as if she had never heard it before. In truth? She had not. Not among the cultists and their ruthless ways. Though what it implied? Seeing her soul, her mind? It was unnerving. “I do not know.” Her answer was slow, her body tense against potential outrage. A downfall as Mor’gann jerked slightly, one of the droid’s bolts slipping by a too slow block. The answer had always been unacceptable and she was confounded by the fact that it was indeed the correct answer. She did not know. Aside from power and survival… What was there? The thrill of the hunt? The time spent watching the life on Dxun in those rare moments when she wasn’t training? Even then that had been survival. “I do not know… Survival is- has been- all-'' Her voice tinged with something else, fear. A future before her and unknown, and she had jumped into the void between the stars without thought.

“Food, water, shelter... The galaxy has these in abundance. Survival is not difficult anymore. Power? What use do you have for it now with no enemies? All your foes were back on that planet. Your fury, your anger... You have no beasts, no foes to hunt, or people to beat you down and steal from you. Out here... You're probably stronger than most women in the galaxy, more cunning.” He was blunt, telling her things she needed to hear. To understand before she left this ship. Whether under his care or not she needed this.

“I seek knowledge. Not for power but understanding. To help. To heal. To... Fix.” He spoke moving a hand and the visor raised so could look upon him as snatched the little droid from the air.

“I am nearly fifty years old.” He spoke slowly, laying his staff against the wall. “Yet do I look the age I am? Does my sister? We can live longer lives. You could scramble and chase power... But power needs purpose... What if I instead gave you all I have? Longer life? Healing? Empathy? Do you think you could give up power for kindness? You... Mor'gann you have potential beyond killing and stealing. A thirst for knowledge... Would you be like those Elders? Or would like a new path?” He spoke, as he took a seat on the workbench. Tall and broad of shoulders, yet the robes hid most of the definition of his body. His face was plain yet she could see his movements in it he was unsure, chewing at his lip. Tapping his thigh with a hand.

Mor’gann blinked at the sudden light as the visor lifted. Pulling the heavy thing from her head, after she let the saber die. Glaring at its flickering red light, the irritating thing looked rusted if she had to guess. It was a fleeting thought as she tucked the relic in her sash. Her gaze turned to the man as she set the helmet on the workbench considering what was said. She was preening as she considered that he thought her one of the more powerful women in the galaxy, though she doubted such was true. His words were not entirely true, she could hardly think of the galaxy as a place without the mire of Dxun sticking to some corners of it. “I do not believe you, entirely.” Her words were stiff as her gaze turned away. Alarmed that she dare say such. “If this galaxy is so full of those like you, then what of that war amongst the Clones? Why would such happen?”

“I do not know this ‘empathy’ word. Kindness is giving all you have away to those weaker and putting yourself into potential death… I do not see the use of it. There were alliances on Dxun and hunting parties that aided each other. Some grew to care for one another.” There was hesitation as she looked away from Airus. It would do no good, but this filled her with shame that she could be so weak. “I did kill those that were too ruthless on the younger ones, or simply incapacitated them for a time. It did not make me in great favor with the Elders that I would take out their favored acolytes I was weak, I risked injury for no reason.” She shifted nervously, not liking to admit that she had been so foolish.

“No.” Airus answered, shaking his head as smiled at her. “Kindness is strength. Only the weak horde and look out for themselves alone. Because they can't imagine having enough for anyone else.” Airus explained as he took a deep breath.

“The clone wars? The strife the galaxy has been under? All because one wanted power to himself... And the few, the brave, and the weak brought him low. You know what they showed? Mercy. On his forces and on the man who struck down all of my people. The entire order.” He explained leaning his head back.

“Empathy. It is understanding another's emotions and showing compassion. Like I showed you when you came aboard this vessel. Why would I do this? Provide for a stranger, one who attacked my sons?” He asked her to try to dissect his choice with that new understanding. Hoping it might clue her to his ideas and reasons.

She blinked slowly at the man, confounded by his question. Why had he? “I had potential for power-?” Though that answer seemed rather wrong at the moment, and why was she answering with a question! Power seemed entirely reasonable though if his sons were so strong, then why did he need or want to use her? Moving in a smooth motion, Mor’gann began to pace. Not liking to remain in a single place. “Why did you do it-?” He did not seem against questions and she needed to ask. Her brows knitted as her yellow eyes watched Airus.

“Because. You would have become worse. More ruthless. More violent. Dxun doesn't give you a choice. I wanted you to have one. Those things I tell you about? I don't say them idly. You can see them in how I treat you.” Airus spoke, letting her pace as he stood up.

“You have potential for power. You also have the potential to teach. I can see within a love of knowledge... Combat is a tool. You want to understand...” He extended a hand point at her sash. “That saber is old... Before you leave this ship. Would you like to make one of your own?” He tilted his head, curious about her repainting a chance to make her weapon.

He was right, Dxun never gave anyone a choice. Pausing as Airus stood, she watched as he pointed to her sash. He was right, but she considered making a lightsaber of her own. A flicker of fear in her heart. “Yes?” A weapon that would not be so questionable as the one she carried. The problem was… His sister. The woman was like no one she had met and Mor’gann had no understanding or way to deal with that. Knowledge was what she sought. Yes, for power but also for its own sake.

“If you are afraid of Varina. I can show you as well. Though she is an amazing talent at saber building.” He explained as he took her hand for a moment. “Or if you like. I can teach you language, basic will let you speak with most people. Or be understood at least.”

“I can do whatever you want for knowledge next. I am concerned your weapon will not be enough for your strength. Inside of you, I can sense you are strong in the force. Stronger in will.” He explained as he stepped back.

“I want to know. What place do you want among my people, my family.” He spoke carefully.

The young woman blinked at the careless touch to her hand, it was uncommon though not entirely unwelcome now she knew these people were so unlike Dxun. The answer to his questions though, was an easy one. Something she knew even if she didn’t know what she wanted by way of place. “Both-” Her voice was a tad less cold and less emotionless though no less cautious. “Saber, language. Knowledge.” That was the easy answer. “I do not know how to answer; place. This… Is nothing I have seen before. I was an acolyte not a villager. We kept apart if we could not boast of our skill.” Gripping her nerves, lest they flee her, Mor’gann nodded slightly. “So long as she does not move… So quickly… Talk… So much…” The woman was all wind and excitement. “One woman contains entire pack of maalraas within her skin.” She muttered, less than delighted but willing to work with the lightsaber builder.

Airus spoke slowly, nodding as he smiled at her. “I would offer you a place. Not temporarily. Permanently. My student. You'd have a family here. People who will teach and help you... My wife told me that family is not blood, it is who you can trust and depend on. I'd like to help you find that.”

“How, let's start with a saber? Do you know what color you want it to be? We can dig through our stock.” He explained letting her hand go. Walking her towards the ray shield opening the blast doors. She could see all of space beyond it. Beauty of the stars and all around them. A pang of sadness as Airus spoke now. “This... As my wife told me. Was the greatest view in the galaxy. One I cannot enjoy.”

“But you see each dot of light out there... A hundred worlds for each and tens of new species. Some like us, some far different. All of them.... Living, breathing beings with knowledge alien to us.” He spoke giving Mor'gann a taste of the galactic scale.

Family. Mor’gann was skeptical, though she would not dim the man’s opinions as of yet. As his student at least? There was an option for remaining. To learn what she could. “I would learn.” Her vow was soft as she followed the man. “I can learn, the Elders did not care because I did not blindly follow.” Flinching at the word used in conjecture to whom it was said, Mor’gann tensed as she looked out across the galaxy beyond the blast doors. Taking a step back, she had not thought each was a world, but if it was so vast… Any retribution the Elders sent would not come back upon her, they would lose her in this galaxy never to be seen again. Wondering what happened to his wife, she did not pry. It seemed in bad taste to do so. Rather she turned the topic to another matter. “The relics come in different colors?” Her words were skeptical as she felt the awe and fear that ate at her upon seeing the vast blackness before her.

Airus reached a hand out a saber shot from inside of his staff. Igniting as he caught it she could stare at the deep yellow color of it. Like that of a bee or sun brought before her. “More than you could know... I can't see the color but I know it is unique.” He reached out his other hand and a second one came forth igniting it. He showed her one of pure white. Like fallen snow upon a mountain.

“So many more... Varina loves to teach artifice. She made this one.” He spoke, turning off the white saber and offering it to her to hold. “The creation imparts a piece of you into the saber so you might always find it.”

She blinked, taking it and finding it a bit too strange after handling the relic so regularly. “Into the saber-?” She muttered, frowning. Hesitating, her yellow eyes flicked to Airus. “I fight best with staff, or with a weapon in each hand. Versatility. She could make something-?” That would be able to be of use in many situations and not one? Mor’gann still was nervous to be around the strange and unknown woman. “I know little of women, most do not survive as acolytes. She is… not from Dxun.” No, Varina was from anywhere but Dxun.

“No. She and I were born on Coruscant.” Airus paused and nodded. “A saber staff. A weapon that focuses on attack over defense. Come.” They walked on towards a bay beneath the hangar. Waves of heat pouring off around them. A forge for casting pieces and tools to shape them. Hundreds of drawers of parts lay around them. In the middle moving a hand along a wall of gemstones all of them cut and polished.

“Ah. So the new girl arrives. Morgy! Ready to learn to build a proper weapon. If you like, you can even reuse parts from your little relic! Oh I can get the cleaning and polishing equipment!” She squeals a bit in joy. It had been so long since she had a new person to craft or teach to craft. Her niece had been the last, so adorable working on her own at the age of five.

“Saber staff-?” The question was wandering as she looked at Airus’s weapon though the question went unasked. Following after the Miraluka, she mentally prepared herself and her eyes narrowed against the heat of the forge. But that word, Morgy, did that apply to her? Mor’gann certainly hoped not. Keeping Airus between them, she looked uncertainly at all these objects. Smithing was kept to a select few on Dxun. Much as the Mandalorians did. “I am no smith…”

Varina reached out and a massive hilt shot from the wall into her hand. “This. A saber at each end and a massive hilt to extend their reach.” She spoke, dropping the hefty haft into her hand. Letting her feel the weight of the greater weapon.

“Please no forging needed. The parts are assembled as the force guides you. What kind of crystal do you want?” She spun, running her hand along the boxes of gems. “So what color? Oh what gem type? Kunda stones? Aged crystals? Ilum kyber crystals? Dantooine gems?”

The haft od the weapon felt good. Useful as a clud if needed. Then the topic turned to stone types. Mor'gann lost all trace of cool calcukation and a look of panicked confusion filled her eyes. “Different types?” The panicked gaze shot to Airus for a brief second before going back to this crazed woman.

Airus placed a hand upon her shoulder, as Varina laid out box after box of crystals. “Oh yes. You will need four crystals to make a full saber for something like that.” She hummed a moment looking at her.

“What is your favorite color my dear?” Aieus asked more calmly, trying to help her relax, feeling her nervousness as he tried to comfort her. “Varina and I cannot see color. So you must pick them.”

That was less than helpful, and Mor’gann blinked at the crystals. “Maalraas leather…” They had been her favorite prey and hunts. Perhaps it was bloodthirsty of her, but it was the only color she could think of. “Red?” That was the color if victory.

“Alright! Now we can start. Mind giving the old one to me. See what we can salvage from it. I assume you want parts of it in your saber.” She explained humming, grabbing tanned red leather for wrapping the hilt, next emitter parts and laying out four crystals. Before extending her hand to wait Mor'gann's saber.

Handing it over the Dxun native nodded mutely, hey yellow eyes watching with rapt attention.

Varina tossed the old saber in the air, clapping her hands and throwing them apart. The saber burst into all of its components, dozens of them spreading out and just hovering as she looked them over. Spinning each one examining it. Looking at the crystal with a frown. “Ah, first issue. Old artificial crystal. Not natural poor attunement. It's off center of the emitter line weakening the beam. Containment module has a leak that would have shorted out in the rain.” She spoke, grabbing pieces chucking over her shoulder into drawers. Soon the buttons and casing had matching pieces found. She cleaned and prepared it all. Clapping her hands and all of it collapsed into a single box. Four crystals placed before her. “We will start with your attunement of the crystals.”

Mor'gann could hardly follow what was being said but it sounded greatly like the clucking of mother birds over something unsatisfying. She did not even try as she decidedly accepted that some forces of nature were beyond understand and that Varina was one such force. Soon enough there were four crystals before her and she was to select one, or attune to it. “I am to do… what?” This was beyond what she knew and the woman was at a loss, and hated that fact.

“Meditate on these crystals.” Varina spoke as she laid them out before her. Focus your energy and soul upon them. Each one right now is nothing but a gemstone cut and shaped for you. You must make crystals worthy of your weapon. After that we can discuss building your saber.” Varina explained as she pushed the crystals towards Mor'gann. “This will take some time but you will know they are ready when each gives a soft glow, a pulse of energy.”

“For how long?” Her voice had taken advantage of Varina's overhaul of the relic to pull herself together. Back into that cold center she kept. Picking up the stones, her hands scarred as they rolled the crystals that would be the core to the new weapon about. Seeing them by feeling rather than sight, her gloves left behind. “Upon what-?” Oh, she had ideas about that last, though they would not be peaceful ideals. A weapon was not a tool for peace after all, it could be. Yet more often it brought life to an end rather than a beginning.

Varina smiled as she shook her head. “You must figure that out. I can offer some old guidance, a mantra to be spoken as a Padawan builds their first lightsaber alone. “The crystal is the heart of the blade. The heart is the crystal of the Jedi. The Jedi is the crystal of the Force.The Force is the blade of the heart. All are intertwined.The crystal, the blade, the Jedi. You are one.”

Airus sighed and stepped in. “What it means is the same questions I offered you before. The weapon should be a part of you, an extension of your body. You must meditate on yourself and your reasons. That will give each crystal power to summon forth a blade when placed correctly.”

It made sense and Mor’gann nodded gravely. So that is what she was to think of? It seemed simple enough, even if what Varina said was a bit redundant. So the blade would be part of her, she of it and it her will? “Yes, Elder.” She agreed, giving Airus the honorific. He was surely the elder here. What more could she say or do? Here she was his student as he had said, his will was hers to carry out as it had been so with the Elders on Dxun. Some things did not change at the foundation, so much as they shifted she noted. Growing in a different direction. Though if she was to meditate surely she could retreat from Varina to some far and small and dark space where she would not be disturbed?

Varina smirked and leaned down. “I'll check on your progress later Morgy~ Also. Jedi say Master not Elder... Though I am the older sibling.” She preened and brushing Mor'gann hair as she began to test the pieces and preparing for the her Saber.

Airus chuckled and shepherded her towards her room. “Meditation will take time... I am grateful for how far you have come in such a short time. When you are done, would you like me to show you my skills?”

For all she had made some concessions, the woman jerked back as Varina brushed her short dark locks. So it was Varina who was the older sibling? Did that matter? She would hardly know, seeing as family was not something she had much to do with. Letting Airus shoo her down the corridor, her gaze flicked to the Maraluka. “If you wish.” Was it given to her to disagree, not that she wanted to. To see what this man could do? Would be of great interest and use. Though there was one thought, would it be permissible? “I mean no offense, but did you lose your sight to the war?”

“My people are born this way. We all see like this.” He explained as he took he explained pausing a moment as he tilted his head upwards. “When I told you I'd never see the stars as you did I meant it. The bandages are not for me... But to avoid looks of terror and disgust. I have no eyes.” He spoke letting her understand now why he was advanced in his senses.

That caused the Dxunian to pause, then hurry after the man. So theirs was a species? How strange to her. “Your sons-?” That explained how they could see the relic that had been on her.

He didn't break his stride as he continued towards her room. “One of them is like me. The other has functioning eyes... My daughter has eyes as well. Varina and I are both halves of two species ourselves. Thus my sons are half human. Codari eyes were just so weak they were near useless. But we trained and raised them to see as I do... For safety and to understand why I cannot do certain things with them.”

“Codari.” She nodded in thought. It was easy enough for her to pick out when comparing the discussion from before, where she had been caught up to current events. Thinking upon the matters, she felt her brow furrow. Codari had been more malleable and between the two? He had been the one she targeted to use for her pilot before Airus had made such an unnecessary.

“What do you want to know Mor? I can feel your mind attempting understand something I have said puzzles you.” He asked slowly stopping tilting his head as if looking down.”

Her gaze flicked down, “I would not say, Eld- Master.” Simply because it would surely not be in her best interest to say such as she had thought. They were his sons, she recalled that some men seemed rather perturbed by problematic thoughts towards their offsprings.

“Mor'gann. Speak anything you wish to know. You know not my culture, my people, my life. I cannot infere insult if you had no knowledge of if you spoke one.” He spoke resting a hand on her shoulder to reassure her as his master had done minds shown be spoken freely.

The woman still hesitated, “It is not question but inference and perhaps a misjudgement of the past rethought upon.” She spoke slowly, integrating the words she knew of Basic with her own pigeon. “Perhaps Codari would not have been the better one to leave for the pilot.” She tensed and pressed her lips together.

His faced turnes into a hard frown as angled his head towards Mor'gann. However quickly the stone mask cracked his laughter erupting.“...He's a better pilot than Kanis. You made the right choice. Let this be a lesson in not judging appearances. Did you think only those with sight can fly? I can focus and expand out my sight enough to see the while of the vessel and how to move it through space.” Airus chuckled and pat her head again as he turned away. Walking once more as he spoke. “Gave me a good laugh.”

Was no one around here sensible? Mor’gann blinked stunned at the actions of the man. Well in part that had be a bit of her thinking, but rather the real reason was different. “No, Master. I mean, he would have been the one I should have targeted to neutralize first.” Why was this man forever patting her head!

“Never second guess in combat. You commit to the strikes and plans. It is good you analyze your choices now.” He explained pulling back. “My people do not see hence the reliance on touch as confirmation or reassurance.” He spoke, cluing her in as to why he touched her so often. We speak in words clearly and in touch we show our true feelings and pride.

Mor’gann inclined her head, “Strike first, strike hard, strike fast. Do not stop until the fight is done. The one who stops training, dies.” She quoted, hearing such often enough from the Elders.

“Well they are mostly right.” Airus spoke as they finally reached her room as he stopped slowly breathing in and out. “Battle is not always won by hitting first and the hardest. Often it is better to bring the opponent low without killing them. Lives taken cannot be untaken you must be sure of each life you take was something you had to do.”

Hesitating, she inclined her head. “I shall meditate on this, and the crystals.” She agreed, then paused glancing at the door of her room before looking at the man. “I did what I had to, killed when I had to. Maimed and broke bones. I could do nothing less and expect to survive. It is better, I…” She winced in memory. “If I did not leave them faltering after the first strike, they would hunt me. If you need me no longer, Master?”

“Please. Meditate on what you have learned. Codari will be there later to teach you more basics and history.” He spoke bowing to her first then departing for his own room. Unable to hide his pride... The girl was changing already, it seems as though he might prove that only debate with his master yet.

[Almalthia]

Yavin IV

A temple dig site

_{Collab with @Almalthia, & @Ruby}

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Hours later Jaslyn stopped and a memory of her mother intruded in the silence of her mind. “Caught without armor? You might as well be caught without clothes. Cortosis is precious and could save your life.” Her words rang as Jaslyn looked at the speeder and opened the compartment pulling out her original pack and took out the cortosis weave armor. The deep gray material was not as decorative as it would have been if she had stayed with the Jensaarai but that suited Jaslyn just fine. Slipping the shawl from around her waist and setting it aside Jaslyn then unbuckled the belt and buckles. She slipped out of the hooded vest clad in only her undershirt, a thin white linen that molded to her curves. Her finger trailed lightly over her sabers as she placed them on the shawl she had set aside. 

Pulling on the Jensaarai armor was like putting on leather and it molded to her body like a second skin. The designs in the armor allowed for flexibility especially in the elbows, knees, under the arms as well as the groin. Pulling on a specialized utility belt Jaslyn placed her sabers at her sides and reached for the boots that went with the armor. The armor was layered and covered from neck to wrist and neck to feet. The Jensaarai from the youngest to the oldest knew the value of the armor and as they grew their armor became more complicated and layered. She grew up knowing how to make the armor and had taken years to put this together. She was proud of it and it was the least “Jedi” item she owned. She felt like it was a nod to where she had come from and a stepping point to where she was going.

Finally Jaslyn plucked up the shawl and folded it and put it in her pack; which she then put in the container in the speeder. The pull was getting insistent and almost irritating in its consistency. It would only let her ignore it for a few minutes at a time. Jaslyn rolled her eyes and drank more water and climbed back on the speeder. Kicking it into gear and again opening up her senses she turned the throttle up dodging trees and debris by trusting in the Force.

After a discussion on her not needing to kick anyone out of their pre-fab with Iizia, reassuring him she’d be happy to share, and thus not kick out Professor Megalyn Tu of the lodging she’d been at since the camp was struck, her tour began. Most of the lodgings were closer to the exterior than the interior, with about a ‘dozen’ local militiamen being paid to act as community outreach and security for the dig.

She met the cook, briefly, as they chopped, and met some of the academic staff and specialists. Sela Ramallah was as niche a celebrity as it got off Charmath, but amongst the academia of archaeology, she was learning she had something akin to rock star status. Whether happy to thank her for her investment, or happy to meet her because they knew who she was, she spent most of the next hour gladhanding.

It made her glad about the most exciting work she did, no one would ever know about. Although having that kind of notoriety did make navigating dig sites a little easier, and in this case, a lot easier. Towards the end of the tour the senior staff of the dig, not already in the temple, as they worked three shifts around the clock and only two shifts were in camp at a time or not currently working in the camp, met inside the main building with its holoprojector in the center.

The Temple of Yavin 4 came to life in light projected to a hologram, and Selene got a good idea of the progress they’d made. Iizia began the presentation:

“As you can see, we’ve spent most of the beginning of the dig getting through Imperial left-over. A lot of equipment just left, tagged for salvage and destruction by the New Republic, which is one of the reasons the government was so keen to allow us to come and do this.”

Sela thanked the graduate student who brought her a cool drink, as sweat already began to bead and work its way around the base of her hair, “Sounds like what our dreams are made out of.”

The sarcasm elicited laughter from the assembled field academics, including Iizia, short and portly as he was, his thick cheeked face held rather animated expressions as easily as most people looked bored, “Well, with the boring work of that done, we’ve moved on. We’ve taken some interesting Rebellion items, but most of the teams have begun going down as fast as the engineers will allow us.”

She saw the line of their progress, motioning to the hologram of the Temple cutaway with a free hand, “Lift shaft towards the center of the structure? Smart, more likely to be structurally sound than most of the peripheral descents.”

“And cluttered with deadlifts we’ve had to cut through to keep going down. Whatever the power system is, our engineers have had zero success in getting anything to work. Maybe they’re all Force activated, who knows?”

The assembled scholars snickered at it. Right, like there were Force users around. Ha.

“Two days ago, we reached this,” the man focused the hologram of the Temple past the prior lift shaft stoppage, “sensors discovered an adjacent tunnel, and this one doesn’t share the same metallurgy as the rest. It’s older, and shares readouts shared by other Jedi Temples in the Outer Rim around the High Republic era. Very slow work, we’ve attempted to assist the engineers as much as possible, as well as reached out to colleagues at the university. Meanwhile, we catalog what we’ve already been finding from Imperial and Rebellion, including an intriguing cache of Clone Wars era armor, but sadly our goal is the lower structures we believe are still there. There was an accident a day ago, one of the junior engineers fell, and one of our researchers assisting him passed out, unfortunately. We’re not exactly sure why.”

“Doing what you can,” Sela smiled, Selene’s mind instantly narrowing on the accident—she’d have to quietly inquire about it, careful as she went. She felt a juxtaposition of the Force, darkness and light, but in chaos, nothing resembling the natural equilibrium. “I’ll spend the evening looking through reports and poking around, before I devise a plan.”

One of the fellow senior field academics laughed, “Just gonna find a dark hole to jump down?”

“Yep,” Selene said, before taking a sip of the chilled tea, entirely serious, with more than a few people present staring at her in response.

There was a foreboding as Jaslyn drew nearer to the source of her curiosity. She saw on the ridge just above the top of the canopy the top of a structure that sent a shiver along her flesh. She knew right where it was.

Jaaaasssslllllyyyyynnn… The presence was stronger now and was so cold it burned. Jasly’s breath fogged as she maneuvered around a line of trees. It was male and steeped in the darkside. Not that it really bothered her but it was just good to be wary of things that were too far to one side or the other. Fire could warm and it could kill.

Do not listen, child. Your focus determines your reality. A warm voice that Jaslyn thought she should know but could not place from where soothed and calmed her mind. Both presences left her mind but she could still feel them. She put them out of her mind and continued toward the temple, the speeder facing the sun as it started its descent to the horizon.

The late afternoon brought her to a clearing where Jaslyn pulled up sharply as the full impact of the temple made itself known. It was old and massive and… chaotic. There was no balance here; there was an ebb and flow in the Force. Jaslyn’s eyes darted around trying to look at everything all at once. There was almost too much to focus on. Staring and just taking it in for what felt like hours but was really only minutes Jaslyn felt the tug so insistent that it made her gasp. 

Throttling up the speeder Jaslyn began to see people at the temple as she got closer. She throttled down and sighed as she realized she was going to have to interact with others when all she wanted was to find what or who was at the end of the quest. There was a man who gave off emotions of irritation and discomfort; likely due to the heat and humidity. Not everyone could use the Force to keep themselves comfortable. For those with the training the environment didn’t pose as great a threat than those that didn’t have the training.

“No visitors. This area is off limits, joint venture of the Wetyin Colonial Authority and the University of Coruscant. Turn around.” The man held up his hand as Jaslyn tilted her head.

“I’m sorry but that won’t  be a possibility. Let’s not make this unpleasant…” Jaslyn tapped his surface thoughts. “Lucas.” She waved her hand. “You will allow me to pass because I belong here.” The Force flowed through her and tapped the man’s mind. She soothed his emotions as he waved her through.

Jaslyn parked the speeder next to another heavy speeder. She looked at the people who looked at her and as she looked back at them if the puzzle didn’t fall into place she moved on. Finally she entered the main building. Jaslyn was led by the Force to a room as she tasted cold tea just as she opened the door.

“You.” Jaslyn stated as she stared at the woman with ink dark hair and blue eyes. She was pale and slender but not without being womanly.

A thousand thoughts and one entered Selene’s mind when the door opened and a voice reached out to grab her. She was partially through a sentence about the differences in atomic structure between High Republic and Late Republic Jedi architecture when that voice came, and with it brought sudden silence to the room that held Selene, and Professor Megalyn Tu, with whom she was currently sharing a lodging with, and who was inescapably perplexed at the sudden entrance and word of the newest arrival.

By the time Tu looked at Selene for an answer, the Queen of Charmath had her path forward: the twist of her lips into a crooked smile, the glint of mischief in the darkness of her eyes, and the utter ease of the mirth in the whisper of a chuckle that escaped her pale lips, “Jilted lover. Please inform security of a breach, have them raise the alarm, and ask them to question the sentry about this mistake.”

Even if Selene knew the answer to that particular one, already.

Vu was short, curly purple haired with a look of having missed a wash for the last handful of days—life in the field, after all, but there was a quickness to the manner in which the metallurgist snapped to and left the room, her eyes wide in anxiety and fear as she took a step towards the entrance in which the sudden appearing red haired woman stood, before deciding to leave through the other door.

“You scared her,” Selene said, her voice thick with gratification at the fact, even as her attention and eyes went back to the metallurgist’s reports on the small screen next to her, on the other side of the large circular room filled with desks orbiting around the holographic projector in the center, and of course, as with any dig site, a large coffee machine against one wall. “That’s…not good.”

It was a reaction to something on the screen, not of the woman, the woman whom Selene suddenly twisted on a heel to face once again, a grand smile and great width of her suddenly wide eyes opened to regard anew, “you’re about to be very popular,” wryly spoken with a dalliance of a shrug, “not that it matters. Bigger fish for the barbie, and all that. There’s a spirit in this camp…I can obfuscate myself from it as easily as I obfuscate myself from other Force users, for now, but you and all that…bright, sparkly Light-sidedness?”

The emphasis she put on the last three words were melodical, playful, as if it were all some great game, even as she began to make her way closer to the woman, and closer again, like a predator closing the distance on entranced prey, her body’s movements so fluid, so easy, it was too easy to miss the truth her body language whispered behind every act:

Dangerous.

“Sit down,” she instructed in a voice that gave a command as easily as most men breathed, motioning to the chair closest to the woman, “and tell me just who you are, and how you know the Queen of Charmath, Assistant-Dean of Xenoarchaeology, and very generous late investor to this dig, Sela ir-Ramallah Vitaal,” she paused for a beat, before adding, “the Seventh of her name. Just a simple, exceedingly wealthy, exceedingly politically connected, socially reclusive girl living out her heart’s desire of ancient things and ancient cultures as a leading scholar in her field.”

Nope. No Force using here, no sir-ee.

“I don’t know you. I just heard you, felt you. I can’t explain it more than I had to be here.” Jaslyn sat down still reeling from the reaction of her world tilting on its axis. She smoothed her hair back from her face; the strands that had come loose from the braid that fell to her waist. “Until I saw you I had the idea that I was seeing the future. Now I have no idea what is going on.” 

Leaning her head into her hands Jaslyn scoffed. “Being a good person shouldn’t be laughable but you make it sound dangerous. Which has to be the biggest joke in the galaxy. I didn’t mean to frighten anyone.”

Lifting her head Jaslyn smirked. “Simple? Queen? And the Assistant-Dean of Xenoarchaeology? Does Leia even have that many titles? Well I suppose if we are trotting out names and titles Jaslyn Dayne, daughter of the Saarai-kaar. I suppose something of an equal rank?” She snarked with a grin.

Selene never did stop stepping forward. Even with each word the woman spoke, even with that grin, Selene just got closer, and closer…until the woman spoke of ‘equal rank’, to which Sela the Seventh barely, hardly, inched a smile at, instead being so close her dark, perfectly straight hair, tickled at the woman as Selene leaned down to this Jaslyn Dayne’s ear, and whispered the kind of whisper that quivered souls and left goosebumps on skin:

“…who said I was done?”

Selene’s body perked straight as a knife, her head tilting sharply to the side, like she was some dark-haired bird of prey. It was the sound of the word, she knew it, she’d heard it, “Ancient Sith word…”

Her fingers snapped as she found her answer, and her eyes tumbled back onto the woman once more after a quick upward drift as her mind thumbed through the encyclopedia of her memory, “I read about your lot from Inquisitor records. Interesting story, if ironically humorous in a twisted way.”

What the woman said before that was even more interesting in the moment, but Selene wasn’t about to let that be tipped off at the moment—not that it mattered as the door beside the woman opened. She expected security, but instead got a stunned looking Andrejo. The Co-Director of the Dig looked stunned, pale with shock, and dizzy enough to be sick.

“…Doctor Lergo, my Co-Director…was murdered down in the shafts by one of our senior post-grads. More details as they come, security is bringing up the body and the murderer now, then they’ll deal with…well, her,” he said, looking at Jaslyn for the first, and last time, before walking back out again, as if he were simply floating through it all, too phased to be phased.

Selene simply nodded, before turning her attention back to Jaslyn, and smiling, “I do hope you came prepared for the show,” then it happened, as the façade broke and Selene came through, as intense and serious and genuine as any one soul could be, “it only gets worse from here.”

She then, quietly, reached towards her waist and turned off the safety of the blaster at her side.

In a fit of madness, or rash impulsiveness that was unusual for her in multitudes rarely seen, Selene tipped her hand, “I think the spirit brought you here. If it used me, it may know about me,” she sighed the last sentence, unsure of what it meant, and hating to be unsure of what anything meant, “and if it knows about me…”

She just trailed off, going back across the room, and returning her attention to the reports. 

“Sounds like you have it all figured out and that the rest of them are all… at best along for the ride? You know better than to turn me over to security. If it gets worse than a murdered Doctor you could use my talents.” Jaslyn stood and studied the holo of the temple. “So where do we start this little detective drama?”

Jaslyn turned to the door with a look of expectation. “I am no Xenoarchaeology major but I am observant and,” She looked back over at Sela. “I am ready for the show. Too curious for my own good really. Spirits don’t scare me Queenie.”

Stress boiled as Selene felt her thin fingers comb through her black hair, and push back, hard, against her scalp until her fingers were free, and the moment of tension was momentarily behind her. The look Selene gave the woman now was blank, like the expression of someone who’d been through enough pain to come out of the other side numb.

“Then you’re a fool. Come with me.”

Selene left out of the exit on the far side of the woman, her pace quick and her walk determined as she cut a line through the heart of the site camp, past work buildings and past communal bathing set-ups, past lodgings and make-shift kitchens, past utility and storage areas, past transport ships put to ‘bed’ and awaiting power up, past the farthest reaches of the camp and towards the very heart of the temple.

It was there that the secret lifts had been uncovered. Selene hadn’t had the time, or the heart, to tell the assembled academics that they had just been wrong: the subterranean levels they had found weren’t Jedi, they were Rebel. Her suspicion was that the adjacent shafts weren’t even lined with metal, but a mix of metals native to the moon, and stone from the same source…which made their origin far more obvious than it had any right to be.

The crowd formed a semi-circle around the hidden lift, one clearly meant to be hidden, carved out of one of the giant cylindrical support beams of the temple that had been reinforced by Rebels, hinting at its purpose. The screaming started before they even got close, but by the time they were close, several of the dig staff were either looking away, or too staring, disturbed, or in the case of a handful of them…crying. The sound of the screaming was raving madness, and the post-grad student who’d been handsome and daring and bright was now pale and howling, blood still upon his hands, still around his mouth. His arms held down by members of the security team, his trousers and sleeveless top stained, soiled.

The Co-Director, Doctor Lergo, a man Selene had attended more than a few classes and talks of, was bone white, a chunk of flesh missing from his neck, and dark red dagger shaped punctures from his neck to his navel.

“I’ve done this my entire life, and I’ve never seen this,” was the whisper in the ear from Selene to Jaslyn, the very smell of the darker woman, some mix of spice and floral, intensified by the stress of the moment and sheer closeness of their bodies.

“YOU DO NOT BELONG!”

The scream came guttural and hoarse, the shoulders of the killer popping and cracking as muscle and bone shifted like serpents under a thin sheet of skin, twisting itself free from the firm grasp of militia security before throwing them free in either direction. Most worryingly to Selene, the scream came the moment the killer’s eyes, bloodshot and yellowed, set their sight on the Jensaarai.

The way it lunged and parted through the assembled crowd caught everyone unaware, and made security hesitate to shoot—what if they hit someone in the crowd? Dayne would have felt a firm shove, before hearing the roaring whine of the K-16 Bryar Pistol come to full, devastating, charge to fire its entire power source in a single shot. Selene waited the half second until the killer was nearly on them before she stepped in front of Jaslyn and fired, blood and brain and scalp and hair flying behind the charging madman, littering some of the crowd and some of the security force with it.

Yet the killer still fought to grab and claw at the woman who stood between it and the Jensaarai, forcing Selene to bend down and take the heft of the blaster pistol to bash at the remaining brain and skull of the post-grad worker until it stopped so much as twitching. A heavy sniff, and a slow stand to full height, Selene flipped her hair back behind her shoulders, and began to catch her breath. She gave the red-haired woman a single glare, before she simply walked away towards one of the communal wash areas of the camp.

[Apollosarcher]

Airus and Codari were bringing the ship in for a landing, The Blind Luck was here to assist the researchers and archaeologists at the request of the Jedi Order. Kanis was on the ramp already as they touched down. He wanted off this ship, to wander and roam; a Mandalorian needed something to fight... And the beasts of Yavin four were new and yet unrestrained by his blades and blasters. The two nerds would be talking with the research staff and he could explore with Sparks. “Come on, you bucket of parts. Let’s get out here and find some trouble.”

Meanwhile Varina was exuberant as she dressed in her old clone wars armor over her robes. Gripping her saber staff as she twirled it happily, heading to speak with Morgi her mind roaming through thoughts of meditation and art yet unseen. The fabled city of the Jedi and more supposedly here on Yavin, certainly something she’d have to look into but for now she’d worry about Mor’gann, curious if she’d managed to meditate on the crystals enough to empower them yet. It was after her first order of business and it had been a couple of days since then, Varina had seen many younglings do it in a day or less, though she had more crystals than most.

Mor’gann for her part was perched in the shadows of the ship’s hangar bay—the darkest part, out of sight- or at least physical sight. The old habits of keeping to herself had hardly been broken over two weeks after a lifetime thus far of them keeping her alive. The crystals were walking across her fingers absently as she gazed into the in-between looking across the bay, noting what she saw and dismissing it. The angry boy, Kanis, was leaving with some strange droid as if it would be of aid. Droids on this ship appeared to have their uses but offship? The Dxun native was hardly sure. Sensing the approach of danger, she flicked her eyes towards the entrance and Varina. The woman was someone she had taken particular care to avoid. Now she was here and looking about, most likely for her as the other two- the blind miraluka- would not have needed such. “Require I, for what you wish-?” The Basic structural form still slipped her tongue from time to time. Though she paused the crystals walking across her fingers to slip them all into a single palm.

“The temple here... Is a powerful place to meditate. A vergence of energy, this temple is built upon it. The inner sanctum would be a great place to meditate and finish our saber... And if you want Airus to turn you to explore a new planet unattended you will need your new weapon. Unlike him you can’t make any stick into something that can defeat an Inquisitor.” She smirked, the red head gave a signature smirk looking at the woman. “Besides... First time on a new planet... Are you ready to see the moon where Jedi resist the Sith time and time again?” She spoke tugging on a belt of goodies and supplies... Or rather listen to the nerds argue about translations of ancient words and riddles?” Varina asked seriously, giving her a choice of who to go with. “Who knows we may find an ancient Sith Battle Hydra!” She spoke as if it was nothing to fear.

Watching the woman as she uncoiled from her seat with the slowness that belied the speed of which she could strike, Mor’gann only understood a handful of words that did not make… “Inquisitors-? Sith Battle Hydra-?” Though she felt a slight familiarity, perhaps something heard in conversation while she had foolishly dwelt on another matter. Yet the rest… “Fought with only sticks, stones, strikes and metal on Dxun.” She recalled with dry reality. “Killed many, I did as well.” Stowing the crystals into a pocket within her tunic, she eyed the jungle. Still she trailed in Varina’s wake keeping a healthy distance- out of arms’ reach- from the woman. A ship between them was better but that option was not available.

“Inquisitor. Jedi Hunter’s specialists in hunting and killing force users like us. Airus faced down three of them alone after his wife died. Along with many of the traitor clans of Mandalore.” The Artisan turned, stepping out into the sunlight Varina’s armor was dozens of different colors, a splattered rainbow of colors over a simple brown robe as she spun in the light of the temple. The Great Temple was huge, big enough to dwarf the Cruiser they had arrived in as people moved about it Varina pointed to the symbol on her shoulder, a saber ignited with a star shining from its hilt flanked by wings. The symbol of the Jedi Order, of freedom and hope.

“As for the Battle Hydra’s... Think of the biggest nastiest dragon... Give it a dozen heads, bigger, and eat people who use the force... Also biologically immortal!” She chirped cheerily skipping ahead of Mor’gann. “But don’t worry... I’ve faced worse. You get that saber built, I'll tell you about the battle of Ryloth sometime.”

The woman pulled the hood of her robe up and let it rest low over her gaze. She looked at woman as she twirled about ridiculously. “Terrifying.” Her tone was icy as her yellow gaze scanned back and forth. The crowds of people were unnerving after two weeks and a lifetime avoiding them. Her steps hurried as Mor’gann wished she knew the destination if only to tow this crazed woman after her and get there faster and away from the crowds. Hydras would be easy compared to this. “This is worse.” She muttered in her native tongue.

“Relax. Place is built for thousands... And they have a hundred at best... You’ll have entire sections of the building you can pout in darkness from.” As they entered the main building seemed to have been refitted and changed into a military base of sorts. As Varina walked her towards the upper levels, a strange new sensation wrapped over her as they moved towards the vergence at the center of the temple.

Soon the sight of others vanished as they reached a chamber that had little change. “Ah, one of the meditation rooms.” Varina spoke, her voice soft, losing all the friendly cheer now sweet almost harmonic. “Ashla is here...” She spoke touching the walls, entering the room her mind swelled a moment she had to force herself to breath as the feeling of energy washed over her. “The reason these temples were built was to suppress the darkness of the planet with the energy of Ashla...” She explained as she took a seat coiling her legs to sit upon them.

“What do you know of Ashla and Bogan? The light and the dark as some call them?” Varina gestured for her to sit, the serenity and peace of the room would make it a good place to meditate and teach the story of the two.

The woman trailed off the flowery creature, feeling that change herself she mistaken Varina as talking of a woman, not about some… What? The Force itself? It seemed particularly idiotic to separate and divide what simply was? “Those names…? Unknown.” She was examining this odd peace she felt. A life spent fighting? She found this alien and strange. “What is this warmth-?” She spoke in her native tongue. Wondering at it as she considered what it was as she settled in a meditative seat.

“This. This is what the Jedi draw strength from... From a love for all people, compassion in all things, kindness, and hope. Ashla is the side of the force that embodies this, compassion and strength of character. Where you come from Bogan, the darkness, the will to grow and dominate at the expense of all others. Jedi follow the Ashla, the Sith follow the Bogan. Varina spoke as she paused for a moment. “We struggle and argue over many things but there is a simple truth to each side. Those who choose light must be unflinching and resolute in the face of destruction, those who choose Dark choose to live no matter the pain or torment. I see it in the art works and murals Sith and Jedi paint, the art tells the soul of it’s maker.”

The woman had a considering look in her yellow eyes. There was some sense in it though all of it she could not grasp. Words seemed as an interruption and she considered the agony of her existence and the recent change. She had done what was needed and would again. Perhaps it made things different but she could not see the point in not flinching in the face of death. Death came and you fought and flinched at the same time. Surely she had done both.

“Now. I have not brought you here to show you the light and make a statement on what is wrong and right. We all do as we must... Your path is your own. However, I can only teach what I know and this place is as close to the old temples as we will get for months.” She shut her eyes and spoke now as her saber left her hip and floated up suddenly bursting into pieces, intricately floating around her. “You have meditated on your crystals... Focused your will and your purpose into each.” Varina’s mind flicked through parts and pieces of the blade as a bag floated out and suddenly the pieces she had gifted Mor’gann to build a saber were revealed.

“The Jedi have a right of passage.” The wall behind them moved and the chamber sealed as they sat alone. Varina focused her mind as each part clicked back together showing Mor’gann the pattern of assembly and disassembly. “Using the force you will build that saber... Should you fail... Well... That door does not open until we succeed dear girl. So let’s not think of that.” She spoke. “You can watch as I pull it apart and rebuild it as many times as you need. All your parts are here, I sourced as many as I could be like those of your home world... Only thing I may not do is build your saber for you. Ask anything of me... I am here to educate you.” She explained as to the real purpose of this trip, a place of silence and compilation where she could focus on this task alone and Varina could see into her actions when confronted with a task she must achieve.

Hearing the wall click behind her Mor’gann’s gaze snapped to sharper focus, the icy chill freezing her wonderment and setting it aside as she came attention to the matter at hand. Those moments of wandering thoughts were well enough, and this was hardly the first time that she had been sealed within a chamber until a task was done. Usually it was not something so bloodless. Closing her eyes once more, she let her knowing of those parts, the crystals adapt to this strange warmth. They were to be a tool and one that would strike and do as was needed. It could not be weak. It could not waver nor more could she. The red crystals glittered as the shell about them shifted and twisted, the parts faltering and sometimes clattering to the floor as one was forgotten or her attention shifted to some minute detail that was a potential flaw. Yet the four crystals remained in constant motion.

Minutes, hours ticked back. Thirst and hunger were not unknown to Mor’gann but her body had become accustomed to her needs being met. The slight pangs were complains that were fresh wounds even if she set them aside. Questions came, softly spoken and only when every piece had been tried and twisted and everything short of forced into what she desired. They were more mechanical questions. How did the hilts join, how did the one part effect another in material or what not. Emotion was erased from her rough Basic as sweat beaded across her brow. Setting the last piece in, she considered the structure of the saber and then sent the pieces breaking apart, not in destruction but separating. Dismissed for a flaw that weakened the join between the handles. “Why did you bring materials like Dxun-?” It was spoken in her native tongue as she slipped into it.

“Because... Your home is close to your heart. Same as Coruscant is to me and my brother... Materials of your saber are a reflection of you. The leather it is wrapped in is from Maalraas... The metals from pieces of sabers I found when we explored the lands there for the ancient Jedi beast hunters and long dead Sith. As you grow and change you will forge new weapons... I’ve built dozens of sabers in my life, it is my craft of choice. Because it is an extension of you the saber is a weapon without equal... But you must know yourself first.” Varina paused for a moment tilting her head as she reached forward, touching Mor’gann’s hand... Letting her energy leave her and flow into the young woman. Her thoughts shifted to her own for a moment she slowly pulled back. Letting her enjoy the new energy as tiredness and hunger left her. “A Jedi skill... A way to nourish the body without food, water, or sleep... One we got very good at in the days after the Order fell.”

“It was unnecessary. They could be ignored until I had the time to deal with them.” Mor’gann stated simply, bring the two sabers together again. Adjusting minute details between the joining when they would become a staff. “You give away what you may need later. It is a liability.” Nevermind she had done the same in the past though in more physical ways. “I know myself. Even if my self is not as I would have it be. There are flaws I should have discarded for all they are counted not as such among you.” Strange folk that they were. Hesitating she examined the saber, not confident in that it was complete yet. Not perfected.

“Kindness is never unnecessary. You forget... Should you not complete it I remain with you. It is a test of faith for the teacher as much as a test for the student... I have heard the tales of master’s who died waiting for their Padawan to return with a finished blade.” She added the importance of the test. “You know how it fits. Yet you hesitate... Why? What do you seek to improve with your saber?”

Mor’gann heard the criticism and her lips thinned. “There are flaws. They must be fixed.” It was as simple as that was it not? The fact they were minute and being the first saber she was making seemed not to matter to Mor’gann.

“No. You can’t fix every flaw... Nor should you. It is the confidence to live with those flaws to trust implicitly in something that is flawed... As we all are. From the greatest Jedi to the humblest farmer to the richest baron. Our flaws shape us like any other trait. We must embrace them.” Varina spoke. Her mind wandered a moment back to her own first saber... How she’d thrown it against the wall so many times in rage. How she had cried and begged to try again with new parts... How many years did it take before she understood that getting it wrong was a step on the path to getting it right. “This is art... Not science or skill.”

There was a silence then the saber clicked together. Finally fitting together. If she had to accept this flaw- for a time- she could and would. Though it would be fixed, at some point. Either a flaw to improve upon or one to explore into some use to her. “So be it.”

Varina smiled, her voice filled the room it seemed but her mouth did not move. She recited the mantra her master had when she was taught to construct her first saber. “The crystal is the heart of the blade. The heart is the crystal of the Jedi. The Jedi is the crystal of the Force.The Force is the blade of the heart. All are intertwined. The crystal, the blade, the Jedi.” She spoke, opening her eyes to rest on Mor’gann proudly smiling upon her as blade turned on for the first time.

“You are one.”

[Fiber]

They picked the highest spot in the area for the DS-1 Memorial. The entire length of the trail up the mountain was lined with metal plaques listing names, they were now incomplete after the guards had gone and the locals had scavenged them for scrap, others remained but had been stained with anti-imperial slogans. The real memorial was at the summit, from the top of the mountain one could see for miles around, even the height of the temple below looked small. Near the final clearing there were several dozen Bronzium statues, honoring the highest-ranking officers and those given posthumous awards; every one of the soldiers killed during Skywalker and Solo’s raid was honored, as were all of the TIE pilots lost during the rebel assault. At the center, standing in front of it all was Tarkin’s statue, eternally frozen with an expression of smug superiority and standing rail straight, with the main memorial behind him.

Tarkin was a complicated figure in Raskta’s life, especially for someone she had never met personally. On a few occasions she had been in the same room when he was present for official occasions, and during her counterinsurgency days in the Storm Commandos Tarkin’s writings were practically gospel, his ethos left an impression even from a distance. At first she believed in it with her whole heart, the Tarkin Doctrine, rule by fear, savagery in service of civilization, brutality to create an order that could stand strong enough to protect all of the galaxy’s citizens, and all of the language about the great work that would enrich the lives of countless generations to come. Once that had been her view also, she probably would’ve bought in even without all of the ideological purity tests, and it was with her even when her unit was committing acts that would’ve been immediate grounds for execution under the Old Republic. Where it faltered was when she saw the end results.

Dankayo was a small planet, a colony out in the Shwuy Exchange, far from the cosmopolitan splendor of Alderaan, but it was one she knew intimately from a long, drawn-out counter guerilla operation. She had been part of the bloodshed and punitive measures but also the genuine acts of aid, setting up schools for the kids, safeguarding moisture farms from rebel raids, and delivering supplies to the areas ravaged by the guerilla war. But now, there was not one trace of her efforts left anymore, not a single lifeform above the microbial level left on the planet. A decision had been made far above her paygrade to cleanse the planet with a Base Delta Zero operation, her unit even having the honors of being the last imperial personnel to leave planet once they had finished the job of providing the targeting data. The most loyal had been evacuated beforehand, all of the rest were given no warning when the fire rained from the skies. The fleet in orbit didn’t stop their barrage until the crust of the planet was slag and the atmosphere had been burnt away, rendering any potential enemy elements fully and incontrovertibly neutralized.

A decision like that was incompatible with any of the lofty goals the empire preached, and she began to see what the rebels meant when they said the empire was built upon lies. Perhaps if she had stopped there, she might’ve even joined their side, but time with the Royal Guard had revealed a new truth to her: Tarkin’s rhetoric was built on contradictions, but Tarkin’s rhetoric was not the rhetoric of the emperor himself. In fragmentary speeches and texts that only the most loyal were allowed to witness she had pieced together the truth: the empire was never the end, it was never the goal, it was merely a means to an end. Palpatine’s public pronouncements were just another layer, and the empire was just his greatest implement for his truest desire, the pursuit of power and perfection above all else. In Palpatine she found truth, she found purpose, and in his power witnessed something that was genuinely awe-inspiring enough to devote her life to.

She took a moment to appreciate the memorial, having seen the renderings but never the actual finished site. It stood as a gigantic wall, tall as a wookie, seemingly flat but actually having an extremely subtle curve to it, matching the curvature of the death star itself, as if this piece had been ripped from the hull. In a way, it was, all of the sections of the wall were created from recovered metal debris, now painted in all black, mimicking the darkness of space. Embedded within it were over a million tiny shards, shimmering and shining as the sunlight reflected off of them. These where pieces had come from a massive composite kyber crystal, one built as a spare for the death star’s superlaser, then pulled out of storage and cut into microscopic pieces for the memorial. Every shard represented one life lost, and with them all arrayed together the entire memorial looked as serene and wondrous as the night’s sky. At the center was a holographic terminal hooked up to a data bank with the names and information of every casualty, allowing visitors to find specific people and project their likeness upon the wall. She contemplated trying to find some of the Royal Guards who had perished in the list, but stopped herself because she never knew if someone could be monitoring the terminal.

Despite appearances, Raskta was not here to appreciate the architecture or reflect on her life decisions. With her macrobinoculars in hand she looked and made note of the layout of the dig site, which entrances had evidence of that they were in use, where the vehicles were parked, any power lines or other equipment set up outside the temple, and trying to keep a rough count of how many she saw around. There were signs that they had some type of armed guards around but nothing else lept out as odd, and after a little more surveying she was satisfied enough to make the trek down to the site itself.

She picked the least busy side of the temple to approach. After watching long enough to be satisfied that no one was around, she walked towards one of the ventilation grills outside the temple and knelt down beside it. Raskta was trying to not look suspicious, no outwardly visible weapons or armor, clothing that looked like a backpacker trekking through the jungle, but the next portion would have to be done quickly because it would look obvious to outside observers. She removed the casing that had concealed her Force Pike as a walking stick and got to work.

A Force Pike did not have the cutting strength of a lightsaber, but it was fine for something like the grill of the ventilation shaft. It even had an advantage for this purpose, the tip of it made cuts that were much thinner those made by a lightsaber, difficult to notice without close examination. With precision trained from a lifetime of dueling, Raskta made an angled slice to the edges of the grill, such that it could be removed by hand but would still lay in place when set. The plans had told her these vents were large, they had to be to supply an underground area as large as the temple had, and it was unlikely that any of the staff of the dig site was interested in them. Her macrobinoculars had a nightvision mode that let her see in the unlit ducts, so she crept from vent to vent and peered into the rooms of the temple complex. Raskta carefully recorded which ones were empty and which ones had evidence of the dig team, though she was unable to survey all of them.

After spending more time than she would like crawling through the ventilation ducts, Raskta only had two tasks left. First, she found a spot to place a cache of supplies she might need for later; she was undecided if she wanted to remain hidden or try to concoct a cover story for her next move, but either way it was beneficial to have a stash that didn’t require a trek all the way back to her ship to retrieve. As she began to emerge from the vent, she heard the noise of a ship touching down. Thoughts started racing in her head, and she decided not to step out yet, watching and listening as a group of people disembarked. It was difficult to discern much of anything about them from this position, so she focused on not making noise and contemplating whether it was better to find another exit shaft and continue her “curious hiker” act or to try and venture into the temple itself.

[Fiber]

The arrival of the Blind Luck had the militia all abuzz with news of the arrival of the Jedi, disembarking the blind man slowly stepping the heavy metal he carried clicking along the ground. Codari volunteered to stay with the ship and get Goldie settled in while met with the research staff to go over their most recent findings. Varina had already vanished no doubt off with Mor’gann to work on her new weapon. Airus however, finally could get back to his passion... Research and archival, the Blind Luck had become a miniature library of sorts in the lower levels. Training, combat, and meditation were things he did well, better than most many of peers yet... To turn the pages of a book or dig through hundreds of different symbols to decipher a language was truly invigorating.

Striding across the landing sight towards the temple, whispers and discussion from the locals filled the air. Jedi were a myth since the Empire had come and gone... Now they saw a blind man in robes clutching a metal walking stick, how was he supposed to be some galaxy saving Knight fighting for peace?

A couple of small freighters sat around as Airus tilted his head, expanding his sight to encompass more of the building. Feeling the strength of the energy. “...It has been too long since I walked through the halls of a great place like this.”

Raskta was still in the ventilation ducts, wracking her brain about what to do about the unexpected arrival. Her most suspicious equipment had been left in a corner of the ventilation shaft, save for her force pike. She didn’t want to be unarmed, but also knew how suspicious it would look to be carrying one, so she set to work reattaching the casing that concealed it as a walking stick along with the rest of her hiking gear. That was much easier to explain than a force pike. She tried not to make much noise while she did so.

Airus slowly came to a stop underneath the ducts turning his head upwards slowly, cocking his head quizzically. A lazy smile formed as he lifted the staff, striking it softly as if to gauge her reaction. “Hello there young lady.” He spoke lowering the staff to rest his hands upon the top of the beskar item. His blindfold covered eyes staring right up towards her hiding place. “I’d love to know how you got yourself in there... On purpose or an accident?” He asked unmoving as the smile remained. “Then again perhaps you chose a life beyond most Echani... Repair technician.” Joked the Jedi as he waited to see if she would emerge.

Once she saw the jedi logo on his robes she knew who it was instantly, there weren’t many Miraluka jedi even before the purge. Airus, cunning enough to survive the purge, dangerous enough to kill three inquisitors. He was never top of the list of most-wanted Jedi but he was on there radar long enough that Raskta had read his name several times during her ritual of reviewing intel in the downtime between missions. She had never met him nor anyone who knew him, but she placed enough faith in the authors of the intel reports that their assessment of him was accurate. It was a bad idea trying to hide from a Miraluka, and an even worse idea to try and fight when you had only a narrow window to actually attack from. Satisfied that she had done enough to hide anything suspicious, she decided to try diplomacy. Shifting naturally into a casual, joking style of speech, she said

“Ehhh, I guess you could call it happy accident? I was just looking around the area and like, decided to do some urban exploration y’know. I got good vibes. People on HoloNet keep sharing “aesthetic” holo-images of this temple, so I got interested. Then I got here and saw that there’s whole nutso network of tunnels and no one ever shows this. Could be a gold mine of content for my followers on InstaHolo.”
Then Raskta began to climb out of the tunnel, pushing away the piece of the vent she cut, while she remember the details of one of her most reliable cover identities, one that hadn’t been completely blown yet.

“My name’s Raskta. Anyway, I’d be a bad repair technician anyway, sometimes clients come to me with questions about maintenance and I just have to bluff until I can pass them off to someone else. I tell them why they should buy their weapons from us, not what to do with them afterwards. Kinda wish I could go back to my sport dueling days, but that’s a young person’s game.

Luckily for her cover story, there were literally millions of Echani women named Raskta in the galaxy, many of which had been involved in dueling also. She remembered one tournament she won where everyone that made the podium had been named Raskta. That was an awkward moment.

“Interesting... Well Miss Raskta, I am Airus Vel Aath, here to assist the New Republic in their research. These old temples are dangerous, plenty of traps and dangerous creatures live around them.” He paused for a moment the tall and well muscled Miraluka smile slowly moving away. “I suppose we could take you to the proper authorities... But then again it would hardly mean anything.” He spoke, twirling the beskar staff as he stepped back from her. Taking a moment to soak in her aura.

The shifting layers of her soul blended then distorted in an array Varina had told him reminded her of colors.As she spoke layers of it shifted yet again affecting his perceptions of her emotions, she was lying and doing it well... Her mind was well taught and sheltered so no striking there to reach out for her thoughts. What he could tell was that there was an anger and passion at her core that troubled her. He decided to play along for now.

“Well if you are looking for things to get you fame across the holonet. A Sith battle hydra might be a place to start; they are known to live on the planet.”

“Or maybe you could show how the folks who took down the cruel and destructive Empire have tried to remember the fate of the Alderaanians who had no protection from the battle station the Empire unleashed?” He spoke, trying to rile her up to sense out what she was hiding certainly though he’d have to push her buttons... Even selling the bit he sat down his staff against the crates left nearby. “After all this is the place where the Empire was humiliated and the Tarkin doctrine was dealt the mortal blow. You could even say it was the place where hope for a better galaxy was born.”

This was not normal. Nothing about dealing with a force user was. Her mind didn’t feel right, like someone was trying to pull things out of her, and emotions that were normall suppressed were running free. It was useless to try total concealment, but if you could not hide from the enemy, the best thing to do was to confuse them. So Raskta channeled her real anger, her real emotion and launched into a careful rant.
“I guess this is your idea of an enlightening chat, trying to get me riled up to “know thyself” or whatever. Guess you missed the feeling of this from those empire years so you’re trying to make up for lost time? There was a time when I would’ve had more to say about all this, about the events that happened here, a time when I believed any of that stuff I had a point. But that ain’t me anymore, and I’m not going to give you the dignity of an answer or an explanation.”

She was standing at her full height now, face to face with him, glaring up at eyes he did not have with one hand gripping her walking stick tight. There was real emotion behind what she was saying, but careful hiding of the actual core of it all, what she actually cared about.
“I’m sure you’re still dying to hear me talk, so I’ll go out and say it, Fuck Alderaan. Fuck Tarkin, Fuck the rebels, fuck the empire, fuck all of that shit. I don’t care any more. You can’t get me to care any more. Who the fuck knows how many are dead and all of the average person cares about is that they’ve got a new flag, a new boss, a new overlord to ask for handouts from. Until anyone in the galaxy shows me a reason I should give a shit about them, until someone shows that they actually give a shit about accomplishing something other than living life on autopilot, I don’t see why I need to bear the burden of caring about them. So I’m going to go on my life and doing all this stuff you call vapid shit and just working on scrounging up more credits and enjoying my life until I see an actual reason I should wake up and give something my respect. Betcha’ don’t get much of that wisdom hiding out on your mountain for thirty years, eh force toucher or whatever you call yourselves?”

Airus spoke, recoiling slowly at first then changing his own tune. “Ah yes. The ‘nothing has changed crowd’ perhaps for the folks who lived on worlds that were always productive and willing to ignore the pain of others.” He circled around here. “Miraluka, my people. Were forbidden to leave our homeworld and colonies under penalty of death. Mandalorians are a strongly independent people forcibly made to serve the Empire. Twi’leks, Wookies, and more are forced into labor camps.” He never raised his voice as he stepped in circles around her.

“When people who spent ten thousand years defending this galaxy from terrors and horrors needed them. They all abandoned the Jedi in the name of a man who took power for himself.” Airus' voice never took on venom. “Sidious was a cancer upon the galaxy, like all Sith are when they build their empires.” He stopped as his hand rested on her own staff a moment. “And as for your outburst... There is some truth. But... This staff? Is not what it appears. So... Why don’t you be more honest. The war is over, the Jedi live. The Sith have perished.” He spoke, stepping back and pulling his beskar staff to himself.

She turned away, fiddling with her datapad, just in her messages app, pretending she didn’t care. After he finished speaking, she put it away and said

“How about you worry about your stuff and I’ll worry about mine. I don’t even know what a sith is and I don’t think I’m interested in what you have to say about them. I’m leaving now.”

Raskta was standing close to him now, daring him to block her way.

“Well you're free to leave whenever... I’ll be here at the dig site when you want to tell where you got an Imperial Guard pike from... Sure it’s a lovely tale.” The Jedi answered slowly, walking away from her. Letting her know his own suspicions now, figuring it would be a good way to warn her. Echani, Mandalorians, Iridonians, and Jedi had all been called the greatest warriors in the galaxy many times. Yet when the Mandalorians waned after centuries of defeat, the Irdonian’s fell out of favor, and the Jedi had collapsed the Echani had finally taken that illustrious position for their own within the Empire.

Now of course, the Mandalorians were rebuilding and so were the Jedi... That title would leave them again. Airus knew it well, the Jedi had gained that reputation by defeating every single armed force over thousands of years and only the trickery of their long thought dead foe had finally brought them low. He kept walking thinking that this could be part of that born mentality to defeat opponents to prove strength... Though Echani did everything by fighting, even marriage if it was to be believed... Even Mandalorians had a more civilized system than that.

Raskta was relieved but didn’t want to show, keep up an air of annoyance as she walked off, shouting as she walked away.

“I’ll give you the story for free, since you haven’t been able to pick it out of my mind evidently. The pike is a prize for making the podium in short spear dueling at the Byss Invitational, 14 odd years ago. As for why I have it, same reason you have that staff that you keep clutching the center of, very specific grip, perfect width for a lightsaber, a lightsaber you don’t seem to have on you based on how every movement you make isn’t worried about drawing it from any of the usual places. Jedi stuff is deep in a bunch of weapon training manuals, mystical woo woo isn’t the only way to learn what someone is hiding. You are awfully paranoid for a man that’s got senses way beyond any of us average people.”

The fact about it being a prize was correct, and it was even another tournament with three Rasktas on the podium, though none of them were her. She had been busy that year.