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The Eternal Vigilance (The Maw)


Tarrian Skywalker

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Xel did not answer his master's question. He did not even hear it. He was still lost to unconsciousness. Unfortunately, he was not experiencing the sweet bliss of oblivion, but rather was seeing various images, some bright, some dark, but all focusing on one color. Red. He saw brilliantly flashing red lightsabers, wickedly grinning red lips, and the dark red stain on the snow and ice of Hoth that was the blood of the Jedi. He had not actually witnessed any of this of course, only felt the dark presence and the death of more than one Jedi. His imagination, well developed from his years spent reading stories of the Jedi, provided the rest.

 

He twitched as he sat there, still strapped into his seat. Grunts of protest escaped his lips as he tossed back and forth, until his eyes finally shot open. He looked around frantically, but eventually focused on his master and took a deeo breath. He closed his eyes again as he fully awoke from his nightmares, cold sweat dripping from his face.

 

As he reopened his eyes and looked at his master, she could see that the brutal rage that had been there previously was gone, but was only replaced with deep sorrow and terror. He said nothing, could think of no words to express what he was feeling. The grief was for those who had died. Had he bothered to focus on his connection to the Force, he may have sensed that they had been successfully cloned and were alive and well. He did not however. The terror arose from his growing belief that he would end up as another failed attempt to raise a new Jedi. That he would either end up falling to the darkside, or falling at the edge of a sith saber. He sat there in silence, the drops of sweat falling from his face mixed with tears.

Woot. Kira be back home.

Goodwood's Anti-P.I.M.P. Padawan.

Go California. My Governor can beat up your Governor. What now?

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Xel remained as he was through Ara's response, except to barely nod. A very slight smile creases his lips at her comment about his original landing on Hoth though. After she has departed, he slowly stands, noticing that his own clothes are rather worn and dirty. He has nothing left now though, as both the bags that he dragged through the snow after his crash landing on the ice planet were buried in the Temple. He sighed, not really wanting, not really feeling that it was proper yet, for him to wear Jedi robes. So he shrugged and brushed himself off as best he could, then walked out into their new home.

 

The awe-inspiring interior had him walking slowly and looking all about himself. Soon he realized he really was hungry, and didn't want to keep his master waiting if she was already at . . . wherever they got food. He wandered around the complex, managing to get himself quite lost.

 

"Well crap."

Woot. Kira be back home.

Goodwood's Anti-P.I.M.P. Padawan.

Go California. My Governor can beat up your Governor. What now?

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Xel was glad for the guidance, and also glad that it seemed no one else had gotten their food and sat down yet. This meant he didn't have to worry about either sitting near someone who wanted to be alone or sitting off by himself and looking as if he didn't want anyone else around. He shook his head.

 

I'm a Jedi Padawan and I'm worrying about whether or not people are gonna think I'm antisocial based on where I sit to eat. Sheesh.

 

"Thanks. I'm gonna get some food. You're welcome to join me if you want."

 

After getting a rather large plate and filling it with various vegetables (at least, he thinks they're vegetables, he doesn't recognize most of them), he sat at the nearest table and started eating, happy to let anyone else join him. He glanced toward the entryway every few minutes to see if his master had arrived.

Woot. Kira be back home.

Goodwood's Anti-P.I.M.P. Padawan.

Go California. My Governor can beat up your Governor. What now?

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Xel smiled when she sat down and opened the bag she laid before him. As he pulls out the new clothes, his grin widens. Having finished his meal, he stood up and held the trousers to his waist. They seemed like they would fit well. He unfolded the tunic and examined it, then pulled off his torn and dirty shirt. Slipping the tunic over his head, he held his arms out to the sides and looked at how it looked on him.

 

"Nice. Thanks Master. I'm comin' with you to the council meeting when you're done. Maybe on the way I can find a room that's a little less . . . populated and change into these."

 

He held up the new trousers. Still grinning, he stuffed the old shirt into the bag and sat back down.

Woot. Kira be back home.

Goodwood's Anti-P.I.M.P. Padawan.

Go California. My Governor can beat up your Governor. What now?

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Xel, having already finished eating but figuring he could use the practice at sensing specific targets and being able to track them, waited a few minutes after Ara had left. Once he figured he would have a sufficiently hard time finding her, he set out, ducking into the first empty room he came across and changeing his pants.

 

Swell, now I'll look good for the council.

 

Moving back out into the hall with his bag of old clothes, he focused on the Force, trying to isolate Ara's signature. He did so relatively quickly, since hers is by far the one he was most familiar with. He headed in the direction of her presence, feelin' pretty good. New clothes, new home, new ability. His growing grin died though as he came to a dead end.

 

Son of a . . .

 

Turning around, he closed his eyes, seeing only through the Force. He saw the hallways, the rooms, the Jedi filling them. He followed a path mentally, seeing that it would indeed lead him to the council chamber.

 

Good.

 

He set off again, and soon found himself before the once again open doors of the council chamber. Hearing the last bits of the conversation as he slipped in and stood to the side and a little behind Ara's seat, he kept his face calm, though what he heard intrigued and confused him. He thought to himself.

 

Hutts? There were hutts involved in the attack? What were they doin' there?

Woot. Kira be back home.

Goodwood's Anti-P.I.M.P. Padawan.

Go California. My Governor can beat up your Governor. What now?

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Xel's face dropped its mask of calm disinterest, showing clearly he was concerned about what he was hearing from the council.

 

An attack against the Sith base? What for? Doesn't part of the code say that a Jedi uses the Force to defend, not to attack?

 

He leaned slightly toward his master, thinking to whisper his thoughts to her. He halted though, and stood straight once more, keeping his thoughts to himself for now. He again tried to appear emotionless on the outside, while trying to honestly control hisemotions within. He told himself repeatedly that the Council would not take any actions that went against the code. He thought that if he told himself enough times he might believe it.

Woot. Kira be back home.

Goodwood's Anti-P.I.M.P. Padawan.

Go California. My Governor can beat up your Governor. What now?

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Xel walked silently behind his master. He was curious about the matters the council had been discussing, but frankly, his head was spinning from it all and it seemed quite beyond him. He followed his master into the new room and kept silent, putting the concerns of the council out of his mind. After all, they were the concerns of the council, not of a solitary Padawan, and he had training to think about. He was ready to absorb any new knowledge she offered.

Woot. Kira be back home.

Goodwood's Anti-P.I.M.P. Padawan.

Go California. My Governor can beat up your Governor. What now?

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OOC: I have informed Ara that I'm going . . . oh, right. Nevermind. See ya in a couple weeks guys.

 

Xel sits and smiles some as Ara digs through her bag, glad that his master is a sincere, open person who doesn't let her rank or title define her. He sits and waits for her to find what she needs, looking around and admiring the spectacular achitecture of the room. Before he knows it, his vocal chords make known the question he's been pondering since they arrived.

 

"Who built this thing, and when?"

Woot. Kira be back home.

Goodwood's Anti-P.I.M.P. Padawan.

Go California. My Governor can beat up your Governor. What now?

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