Alcmène

The force moved among the three of them, first as a whisper, a glimmer of song caught at the edges of her hearing. But now it moved in fierce melody pounding through its rhythms as they each began to focus on the force and draw from its miraculous powers. How wondrous it was to feel how each of them tapped into that song. Keenava’s approach was foreign, a tactical thing, guiding her movements as she attacked the Jedi Master. Using the force to quicken and to strengthen as her blows found purchase, speeding each strike as she wailed upon the Wookiee’s arm. Numbing and disrupting. Kirlocca reacted in kind, summoning the force to him in a blast of force fed energy that would surely send the woman flying. The exercise had served its purpose, and though deep within herself she wanted to continue on. To bring her lightsaber up and strike Kirlocca in the back, she depressed the switch on her sabre’s hilt. Watching as the silver blade disappeared with a ‘snap-hiss’, she next let the energy shield deactivate before she held up her hands to both of them. “Enough my friends. Keenava you did very well, and Master Kirlocca I cannot tell you the pleasure it is to cross blades with you. Thank you for holding back.” She gave a wry smile. “What did you feel when combat began? How did you harness the force and what did you find in the depths of yourself when you harnessed the force to strengthen blows?” This question was asked generally, to cause reflection from her apprentice and allow a teaching space if Kirlocca wished.

Danger sense, though slight, slithered up her spine. It was not the familiar signs that accompanied the roar and terror of a battlefield, instead it was soft and calm and barely perceptible. A sign of the restraint of the great Jedi Master, and a reminder that she still had much to learn about control. A glance to her side told her that the Twi’lek had certainly been trained in fighting before, but whatever the next move sent by the Jedi master might overwhelm the still recovering woman. She reached up with the hand holding her lightsaber and pulled at one of the leather straps holding the shield lattice to her left arm, releasing one of the two points that kept the shield firmly attached to her arm. This allowed her to pivot the golden shield in her hand, the long kitesque bottom of the shield being held horizontally to the landing field. The length when held at full extension enough to cover the both of them from the long arcing attack of the Jedi master. This of course broke her rhythm of defense, over stretching herself as to defend the both of them, but allowing the Twi’lek to attack without having to worry about a defense. A method that many pair duelists on her home planet had perfected over the centuries. Though she had her doubts her father would have been proud at such a move. It was improvised, and nothing like the fluid and beautifully deadly duels of house de Moriès-Outremer.

The princess of Outremer gave a soft smile, and lightly shook her head. Her thoughts flitted away to years before, the smells and feelings. The strong embrace of a sister that had always excelled in everything. The star of the planet, of whom her father had placed every hope. Cut down in some forest on Onderon. A failed and fickle jedi assault which had wiped an entire generation of young Jedi Knights from the face of the galaxy when the people had needed them most. “Her death was not by your hands, you carry no ancestral guilt for her death. You have chosen a different road than the one walked before. Keep your chin up and do not dwell on a past that has been left far behind. Step instead forward on this path, those chains do not hold you any more.” She would not force the woman to take the sabre with its intricate carvings and gilding, but the option was there. When she was ready. But for now the first strike would be to the more dangerous opponent. She pushed off her back leg as she brought her left arm up, the lattice work igniting into a plasma shield that she used to crowd and push against the Wookiee Jedi Master. Holding her saber in a high guard.

The adrenaline rush that always came with a fight seemed to be drained in an instant. She placed the yellow blade against the plastine table and it had no effect. A slight plasma burn on flesh was expected but against a solid target, there was no danger. And they were not Sith Lords who delighted in burning their friends and allies. “Your hands will do you fine in a battle with training sabres, though if you do so wish…” She reached out a hand towards her satchel and from the bag arose a handlength of silver metal. Intricately carved in the flourished style of the Outremer. It floated before the Twi’lek, a gift should she wished to accept it. A sabre that Alcmene had trained against for years herself. A thousand memories were embedded in that blade. “I do have another training sabre, though it has not been attuned since its last owner was killed by the sith.” A sister, much beloved. Taken before her time.

Combat was something that she had yearned for since she had been a toddler staring at the tournament fields from a castle window. The pageantry cut to her heart, the great red banners, men and women dueling in rituals that stretched back a thousand generations. A thousand generations of peace. No dreams had struck that young mind of fighting in an intergalactic war. The war of endless hours of tedium. Punctuated by brief engagement of brutality. The smell of blood. When fighting for her life was all that she could think of. Where lofty ideals were dragged through muddy trenches filled with corpses. Friends found with eyes that stared lifelessly into the dirt. No great banners. Just the horrible sound of the breaking of her spine by a nameless mandalorian warrior. The white hot burning of a blaster bolt passing through her abdomen and burning out any chance of continuing her bloodline. The despair of days laying paralyzed and wishing for death as a city burned and everything she had fought for came to naught. Even the small victories had come with a bitter ashen taste in her mouth. There was no joy to be found in gutting a sith lord and watching his body fall into a pit. For it had come at such a heavy cost. And the city had still burned. The children had still died. And what good had the great ideals that she had striven for all her life done for her then? Laying in the dust of a destroyed city, staring into a smoke filled sky while she prayed for death. But this was not such a fight. This was a friendly bout between Jedi that did not care about winning or loosing. A therapy all in its own. Alcmene reached down to her satchel and pulled forth the golden lattice, strapping it to her arm as she took a step back from the table. She grinned with the motion, letting the force and a breath of air carry away the pain and frustration. Her basket hilted saber came next into her right hand, igniting the same time as the energy shield.

How to best describe her reasons for being on the desolate world? She had come by chance, seeking to help refugees but had arrived late from her time in hospital. And the war and conflict were decided while she had been in hyperspace. More friends and innocents snuffed out while she slept in a medical cot as droids rebuilt her lower spine. The muscles still screamed in pain when she moved, though with proper breath control and application of the force all that could be seen of her pain was a tightness around her eyes. But as to how to answer the question… “I am here by fate Master, without much to do since the end of war while I was in Hospital. I was hoping to stretch my muscles and regain some fighting ability in a mock duel, which I am quite looking forward to since our meal is finished.” She looked from the Twi’lek back to the Wookie. “Unless you would like to spar master?”

Hellfire. A wave of strong emotions washed over her like a stormsurge on the beaches of her homeworld. All of her senses flared as they were caught up in the other woman’s memories. Memories that stirred her own. What was that smell which suddenly filled her nose and pitted at the back of her throat? A familiar smell that cut through reverie and the taste of expensive wine like a vibroblade and brought her back to the ruins of Naboo in a millisecond. The sickly sweet smell of burned human flesh, the juttering bone aching blows that had nearly driven her to her knees. The pungent taste of ozone so powerful that it was the only thing she could taste as her yellow blade met the dark swords of a sith lord. She took a stuttering breath. Breathing in fresh air that was not tainted with the stench of death. The emotions were so powerful that she could almost feel the presence of a Sith lord on the landing pad alongside them. She took another breath and was preparing to reach her other hand out to the woman to steady her, but there was no need. Whatever secrets the woman may be hiding about her past, they were certainly dark. But Alcmene smiled, this woman had stared evil in the face and turned away. There was no better candidate for the Jedi Order. A prickling of a presence tugged at the edges of her mind and she turned her head towards it. It was a presence she herself was not intimately familiar with, but it had the edge of comfort. Home. Like a smell from her childhood. Kirlocca. She stood, letting her legs push the chair back and away from the table before she gave a bow of recognition to the great Jedi Master.

A chance to start over. Yes there was redemption in the teaching of the Jedi Order. But there was also the harshness of non compromise. One could not hang onto their old life and also be a Jedi Knight. She herself barely if ever saw her family and had sworn off inheritance and any chance at a throne. A throne that would very easily be hers if she wanted it. But even that temptation barely stirred in her head. The woman was strong and had been through much in her life, that Alcmene could easily tell. And as far as she was concerned, there was no better place to try and right her life than the Jedi Order. And though Alcmene had not come from a background of poverty, torture, or whatever hell the Twilek had stepped out of, Alcmene would do her all to support and guide her through the harsh journey to become a Jedi. There was also no better way to recover from her own deep and lasting injuries than to help someone do the same. She raised her glass and took a final sip. “Then let us begin. Let us touch the force together and find where we may start. When I touch you, I want you to concentrate on silence. On emptying your mind. I find repeating a prayer or phrase very helpful in this. Do not worry about why may bubble to the surface, I will be there beside you in every step.” She took a deep breath and reached her hand out to Keenava, her thin white fingers brushing the blue wrist.

A new objective, a new direction. An opportunity to make new friends, to guide them in the way of the Jedi, and to help ensure the next generation of Jedi Knights. An opportunity she would not give up lightly, for what better way had the force guided her here. It had given her an opportunity to heal, to train, and learn in the few years of peace that there would likely be in a galaxy ruined by generational war. She spread her arms wide and grinned at the two of them. There was hesitation in Keenava, but the source would reveal itself in time, and this was certainly not the time to pick at old scabs. “Then I most welcome the both of you in an informal apprenticeship. The Jedi order has been much scattered by this war, and I am blessed to have you both at my side.” She raised a glass of the expensive wine then looked both of them in the eye. Her Taipani accent was thick when she spoke again. “I swear to you by my life and by my sword that I will guide you in the right path. Through darkness and war. I will not abandon you.” She took a long sip, then set the glass down on the table. Lookign at the swirling red liquid that sat like a cup of blood in her hand. Blood that these two would very likely see. And no Jedi she had ever known had died a peaceful death surrounded by friends and loved ones. It was a hard life. And not a friendly one. Especially with a galaxy already on edge. "Tell me then my friends, what do you know and think of the Jedi order. What is your vision for your life ahead?"

Of course she would miss a key measure of statecraft. No doubt if her father was here he would have been glad that she had been sent to the Jedi order instead of actively attempting to embarrass the household. She had still much to learn, and half a decade in active war footing without time for galas and finery had not been kind to her court etiquette. There was no shame in not seeing battle, and she smiled warmly at Keenava. She gestured both of them to take some of the wine. Her voice was soft when it came her turn to speak again, “My apologies, noble friends for not introducing myself, I am Alcmène of the house of Moriès. And though I am not a comparison in any way to Leena, I am very happy to oversee your training should either of you wish it until she returns.” There was much to be done as jedi outside Ylesia, and as the galaxy again settled back into a cycle of peace, she had little doubt that there were still Sith waiting and biding their time. "Have either of you had much formal training at all?"

Alcmène set the thin woven metal latticework of her shield beside her chair alongside the small satchel of her other supplies. Tucking it all beneath the seat with a quick nudge of her booted foot. Her grey eyes scanned the approaching pilot’s face, and seeing no ill intent she answered him with a wide smile. “Please join us pilot!” She raised a thin fluted glass up at him, and set another plate on the table that looked so out of place compared to its surroundings. Vaguely she hoped that not every pilot in the Alliance would trot over for some aged Cathani, but if they did, the credit chit had enough left on it to cover at least half whatever that would cost. Plus it was her families winery so they would reap a little benefit from such a feast… But her mind was wandering again. She turned her smile on Keenava. “Thank you for this wonderful feast my new found friend!” She took a healthy serving and after taking a bite she looked back at the two of them. “What brings you both here? I myself am still listed as ‘in recovery-’” Here she raised both of her shoulders in an exasperated shrug. “-due to my injuries from my last mission. So I did not see the final battle against the sith. Did either of you see combat?”

Basic rations. Well there were worse things she could be eating, and the grumble in her stomach told her it was probably best to to take a pause anyway. Even if her heart desired to run into combat yet again, even if it was a pale mockery of the real thing. But after Naboo, she was not sure she even wanted to jump back into the real thing. The thought of it made her cringe. And deep in the recess of her mind she could feel the sudden hot of a lightsaber burning up her guts again. Bacta, sandrinium bone replacements, and cloned organs had fixed the wounds, but they still echoed in her with every step and every moment of silent reflection. But after four years of only really eating from a can or reheating pouch, she had a slightly improved idea of what to eat. She inclined her head and gave a slight bow. “You provide the main course and I will bring the wine and dessert.” Her family still had a mainline credit chit in her name, and it was time to make a new friend. A click off her commlink later and a hired orderly from the Taipani sector outreach group brought over two bottles of deep purple Cathani vintage wine, a tray of Sintar cakes and a table that would be set up beside the woman's starship.

The new tunic felt overly soft on her well scrubbed skin. She was far more used to utilitarian linen or micro mesh, from this last half decade of war. There have been no time for finery, for grand galas, or even the festive parties that marked the turning of the seasons on her home planet. She, too, had ignored, religious fasting, and nightly prayers had given way too the study of holomaps. But yet now here she was, dressed in the red and gold of her minor royal house. From an equally minor planet. Her father, no doubt, wished that she had decided to join the Knights instead of the Jedi. At least, then he could have gotten some exterior prestige from her death in battle. Now, instead, she was back to what she had done before the war. But what has she done before the war? What had any of them done? She felt almost entirely lost, and perhaps it was that lost feeling that brought her slowly on winding path to the huge landing fields again. She almost didn’t notice the Twilek, who’s ritualistic combat was as well practiced as hers. Wven in such an unorthodox setting as the landing fields. But what coursed with the woman’s veins? Some sad memory? Some half begotten rage? Each imaginary blow carried a ghost of a spirit. Each drop of memory a hidden and waylaid sadness. An apprentice then? One of the many who had been left orphaned by the war? Alcmene set her bag down, picked up a quarterstaff of her own and leaning upon it she called out. “Katas are good and well, but perhaps a spar would be better?”

Oh how the force moved with him. She felt a grin crawl across her face as they began the voyage home. How would his life turn out? How would the force lead him through his journeys? A thousand such questions swirled throughout her mind as the white lines of stars turned into the blue walls of the hyperspace tunnel. She meditated on his journey as she sat there in silence. Saying the silent prayers of the church of Outremer as she let the concerns of her life flow off of her. Finding the balance. Seeing without eyes. “It is done.” “So it is.” She stood and embraced the trandoshan fully. Hugging him tightly for a moment before letting him go. “Now you must find your own way, Jedi Knight Vox. I am so proud of you.” ((Here I will be leaving you. Thank you for the opportunity to train you for these many months. Welcome to the Order.))

The Jedi knight smiled softly at the trandoshan apprentice as he showed his gem. A magnificent Crystal formed eons ago in the very heart of the gas giant. It had its own history, much like the great trees on Kashyyyk. In which the scholars said, you could read the entire history of republic to empire, to republic again, back to the very beginning’s of humanity. One compact ring upon the other, each telling a billion different stories of life of death, honor and dishonor, of grand crusades against the nameless foe, of disastrous defeats, the great highs and great lows of humanity. Who knew what this crystal had seen? Is it been there for Exar Kun, his defeat and massacre, of Jedi councils long dead, of rebellion against empire, of death stars and brutal reprisal. Every eon of time leaving little mark on the pale gem as it lay in wait for the Jedi Apprentice.waiting for when the force would choose it for this purpose. She smiled and stood. “There is little else I can teach you friend, other than to tell you to make your lightsaber. I will give you the quiet you need as I plot a path back home.” The pointed to the cargo bay of the small shuttle which was stuffed with a multitude of tools, equipment, and all one would need for the task.