Jaina Jade Skywalker

The cockpit of Jaina's old familiar YT-1930 may not have borne the dust of twenty years any longer, but it bore up against an uncharacteristic silence that made it seem hollow and deadened. Once, it had been filled with the chattering between two sisters, the witty banter of a beloved outcast, or the hum of clashing lightsabers as her trusted friend tested the fledgling skills of her daughter. Even the beeps and whirs of her astromech were ghosts in this sanitized air that yielded no trace of the life that had been lived within its walls. The Hope was not only shields and turrets, engines and converters, hyperdrives and power couplings. This had been her refuge, her home, her sanctuary and her temple. Opened, like her heart, only to those worthy of trust and affection, it was the key to the galaxy and quick escape. Andon had walked these corridors. Ashley had walked these corridors. Tirzah had walked these corridors. Raynuk had walked these corridors. How strange that the first time he should step foot on her ship had been in her absence. It was oddly fitting, given the circumstances of her return at his unwitting behest, fashioned out of the rib of his reawakening, but it did nothing to help the crawling she felt on her skin. Every few minutes, she became thoroughly unable to restrain herself from looking over her shoulder, even after a thorough examination with her senses announced that there was nothing untoward on her ship. Trying to keep her destination out of mind, Jaina moved about the ship as it plowed through the glowing aura of hyperspace, busying herself first in the galley, then in the workshop tinkering with the confiscated lightwhip, then... standing alone beside the bench where she and Tares had traded stories over cups of caf late into the circadian night. It seemed that nothing she could do would put the silence the reminders of the ones she had lost. Uncomfortably, she dined with spectres of the soul, endured them beside her in her bunk, held them in the empty air of her arms as her hands rested on the captain's console. The Solaris technicians had even removed the reassuring hiccup of the Hope's hyperdrive. There was no comfort to be had in the long journey towards the danger and confusion that awaited her on Nhagathul. The Traitor's Hope was haunted.

"Aryian?" Jaina's eyes narrowed curiously as she considered him, wandering down neural pathways for a flicker of remembrance just out of reach. "Your name sounds familiar to me, but I don't believe we've met. I'm Jaina Jade..." For the first time since she had found herself helpless on the doorstep of the Jedi, she instinctively thought to offer her married name. Choking on it as it attempted to make its way out of her mouth, she turned the inexplicable slip into a cough and finished unconvincingly, "Skywalker." Having settled her initial curiosity, Jaina's first instinct was to resume her determined journey towards the Dark City, but something about the calm steadiness of the man before her gave her pause, and she found herself following his gaze into the treeline. "I haven't slowed down long enough to notice," she admitted, letting the roar of the nearby ocean actually catch her attention as more than background white noise. "It is lovely." He was right, though: even in the wake of such a tragedy, in a time of confusion, with gathering darkness confusing their every decision and confounding their every move, the overall effect of their collective presence was a resounding peace that seemed to reverberate through the Force itself. If only they could amplify that peace and find a way to spread it across the galaxy. Or even better, find a way to tuck it in her pocket and take it with her to Nhagathul. Sensing the scrutiny of an additional pair of eyes, she set aside her idealist musings and found the form of Misal Draygo limping towards her, heavily favoring her right leg. Bowing her head to the Miraluka, she sensed a sudden shift in the emotional climate that remained inexplicable at present. Looking back and forth between the pair, unsure of the root cause, she simply opted to make introductions. "Aryian, this is my friend, Misal Draygo. Misal, this is Aryian..." Realizing she had not been offered a surname, she left it there, but could not rid herself of the cloying feeling that she had just put her foot in something far larger than she had any grid to understand. Tell me what I can do... Raynuk's telltale signature whispered to her mind, distracting her from the awkwardness of such social niceties, and in that moment Jaina determined she could wait no longer. "Forgive me," she said with a small shake of her head. A gaze filled with dread and resolute in its purpose looked for a commiserator in Misal. "My daughter... I have to go." Backing away from the conversation, she turned on her heel to survey the small collection of personal ships that had been assembled on the landing platform. Amidst their number, she observed with a leap of joy in her heart, her own beloved Traitor's Hope had made an appearance. The beckon call that she had demanded Atlas activate when she landed on Kashyyyk had summoned her old friend, repaired by Raynuk's strange spherical droid and thoroughly updated by the Solaris Industries crews on Corellia at the behest of Tares Vortex. The ramp descended, inviting her in as into the welcoming embrace of an old friend. Depositing her boots next to the pilot's seat as normal, she swiveled to face the comm array, but her trembling hand stalled, hovering just above it. She had refused Skye's help, Aelyn's help, Xae's help. It seemed clear to her that the Force was drawing her to rescue her daughter on her own. Much like the vision in which she was the only one who could reach Tirzah, this again seemed to be consistent in the Force's will. She and she alone would be an effective savior for her daughter. So why was she seriously contemplating roping Raynuk in on such a dangerous venture? The answer felt clear, but she could not stomach the repercussions of her thoughts, and tried to put them aside as she ran through the preflight checklist. It has to be me. I only wish you could help, she offered sadly across the lightyears.

As the Cerean's voice entered her mind exactly as it had on Corellia, unwarranted and uninvited, Jaina resisted the urge to vocally express her irritation. While his sentiments were laudable, they came from a place of ignorance, a dangerous place for a Jedi. Words of comfort deserved to be informed by the situation around them, or they stood the danger of being trite. In this case, the acknowledgment of emotion did not seem to be the stumbling point for the Jedi currently on Kashyyyk. Rather, the question in everyone's mind ran more along the lines of what do we do with the gathering darkness? How could an order of warrior monks spread too thin across the wounds of the galaxy begin to organize their efforts such that it would make a difference? What must the next steps be? Xae's entrance interrupted her, and she quickly enveloped her friend in an embrace. How quickly everything had changed from the last time she was on Coruscant, sobbing over the death of her last known friends in the galaxy some twenty years prior. In her hour of deepest darkness and isolation, it had been the Jedi to whom she had reached. It had been Aira that sent her to Tython. It had been Xae who had taken her in and called her sister, after the Order of her youth had cast her aside for the crime of being in love. It had been Aelyn who found and befriended Tirzah, and Skye who had watched over her. It had been Kirlocca, the great Wookiee, who had not only extended belonging to her but challenged her to grow, to lead, to use her insight and strength to steer the Order itself. An ember grew hot within her, stoked by a gentle breeze of support that rippled the waters of the Force within her spirit, and she found herself moved to tears by their kindness. Silent love echoed, no longer rehearsing the same confirmation of her identity of an outsider. Belonging seemed to stitch up the torn places in her soul, and as worried as she was for Tirzah, there was now no doubt in her mind about her course of action. Jaina's head hung as though bowed by gratitude beyond her strength to lift it, and she glanced down at the beacon in one hand and the sleeve of Nhagathul in the other. "My friends," she managed finally, a heavy exhale steeling her for what was yet to come, "keep an eye on her until I can find her again." Pausing on the threshold of the door to glance over her shoulder at the still form of her daughter in the stasis pod, she locked eyes with Xae. Her words were simple but loaded with meaning that the Exorcist would certainly understand. "In this case, I think help has to come from family." As her hand glided over the door control, the forms of two spritely children appeared before her, I-Nine rushing after them as though a split second longer would have seen them banging down the door, and only then did it register that Skye had said something about twins. While she had no idea who these children belonged to, their concern was palpable, and Skye was correct: being surrounded by familiar presences could only do Tirzah good. "She's right through here," Jaina said quietly to the children as she slipped the beacon into a belt pouch and tightened her hand around the sleeve once more. Offering as much of a smile as she could conjure, though she could feel the sadness creeping in around the corner of her eyes, Jaina looked from the twins to her trio of friends and back, exhaling. "May the Force be with us all." As she crossed the landing pad in long strides, headed back toward the central valley of Kachirho with her own transportation in mind, Jaina realized with some weariness that the Ferro Re still remained docked a kilometer away from the fallen Rwookrrorro. Bringing her comm to life, she paged the floating personal assistant droid belonging to Tares Vortex. "Atlas, come in," she began. "Oh, so you aren't dead," came the disappointed drone of the sassy droid. "No, not yet, but they keep trying," Jaina answered. "Listen, I need you to bring the ship to Kachirho. Something's happened to Tirzah and we need to go after her." "Again?" What passed for a vocabulator's sigh warbled through her comlink. "I'm afraid that will not be possible until repairs have been effected." "Repairs? What repairs?" The ship had been far enough away from the falling wroshyr that it should not have been affected by the madman unless somehow he managed to sabotage it after Jaina had left it in its berth. Another sigh. "Miss Skywalker, there are certain consequences to keeping a live herd animal, a beast of burden no less, on board a sophisticated starship." A live herd animal? Oh. Oh, no. Kriff that Ca'Aran, she thought irritably. The form of the ronto calf sprang immediately to mind, bedecked in the ridiculous gem-encrusted saddle. "What happened?" "Well, after it ate its way through the mess hall, it moved to your quarters, and I'm sorry to say you'll need a new bag..." The droid's explanation continued but Jaina's head only managed to sustain a high-pitched ringing, and she stopped in her tracks. "Atlas. Say it again. Tell me, promise me, that the Holocrons from that bag are safe and undamaged, or I swear, Jedi or no, I will turn your servomotors into scrap so fast you won't even have time to--" Her panicked threat was cut off by Atlas' reassurances. "They're fine. A little worse for wear, but apparently such things are made to be fairly indestructible. Luckily for you. I turned the beast loose. I don't think pets are in your future." "I should say not," she muttered. "Look, will you bring the ship here as soon as it gets up and running? Keep those Holocrons locked up until Master Darex Trevelian comes for them. Run ID checks, make sure it's him." A double-click was all the begrudging affirmative she received. "Oh, and Atlas, one more thing," she added. "As usual," said Atlas dryly. "Make sure they're clean," she said, wrinkling her nose. ----- A comm and a packet of electronic information arrives for Darex Trevelian, encrypted heavily and bearing sender identification confirmation. ----- As she surveyed the landing platform adjacent to the site of the gathering, looking across the collection of ships to possibly commandeer something smaller and faster for her journey to Nhagathul, Jaina's eyes fell on a man whose presence in the Force felt slightly out of the ordinary among the gathered at Kirlocca's memorial. Something about him seemed familiar, but not familiar enough to be quantifiable. While she was eager to make her way to her daughter's rescue, her curiosity was simply too strong to be ignored. After years honing a response of acting on her instinct, she was little able to avoid doing so now. "Are you looking for something?" she asked quietly as she approached him.

Skye's offer drew a genuine, if weary, smile from the young Master. The number of people in the galaxy with whom Jaina would entrust her daughter's care had grown exponentially from even weeks earlier, proceeding from a firm zero to include Xae-Lin, Skye, and most of those she had rubbed shoulders with inside the Order since Tython--notably excluding the acidic and volatile Vos. It was a comforting thought: if the Order could metamorphose into the likeness of that which Darex Trevelian had painted for the Council, even something as frightening as Tirzah's current state seemed less daunting. On the other hand, Aelyn's offer, while genuine, was ill-advised. Without missing a beat, she responded with an emphatic shake of her head. "No, Aelyn. I made it out because I was one of the Sith hiding on that world." The Padawan's question raised an important point, however. In her haste to make preparations to rescue Tirzah, she had neglected to consider a plan that might let her even enter the Dark City without suffering the same fate. Would she have to go in after her daughter like she had in her vision aboard the Ravenhammer? Allow her soul to be stripped from her body in order to delve into darkness and somehow feel her way back? The condition of her soul had been barely a thought for her in the last months: one thing had happened after another and requiring her immediate attention, scarcely allowing her time to breathe, much less contemplate. In that sense, the outrage of Vos and the rumored cadres of Jedi who were abandoning the Order complaining of inaction and ineffectiveness stunned her. There was plenty to be doing beyond mounting an armed offensive against an enemy that they did not understand and could not anticipate, starting with looking more closely into the actions of that enemy. If Jaina was being completely honest, there was some part of her that desperately wanted to take an ally along with her to the Dark City. But her experience here on Kashyyyk had also proven that help would come to those who needed it, in unlikely ways. If the strength of the Jedi Order were to be found in the bonds of brotherhood, she would simply trust the Force that if help was needed, help would come. Not to mention that it was not a good mission for a learning exercise. Clasping Aelyn's shoulder, Jaina met her bright eyes steadily. "Thank you for your offer. Honestly, I'd love the company. But I can't in good conscience throw you into the deep end like that. There's a kind of resistance to the dark side that has to be built up over time, and the fight against it never ends. You're off to a good start with a level head on your shoulders and a kind heart in your chest," she smiled, "but I would hate to see you overwhelmed, and this is no proving ground."

"That is the general feeling that ysalamiri give, but ysalamiri are a faint hope at this point," Jaina said grimly, "knowing where she has been taken." A gentle touch on her shoulder broke her gaze upon her daughter, and she turned to meet Aelyn's concerned eyes. The confusion that leached into the Force was palpable, and as much as Jaina wanted to push away all responsibilities but the ties of family, some part of her acknowledged that she now had a job to do. Kirlocca had brought her onto the Council as one who had tasted darkness and chosen to walk away, such that she might palpate the darkness for its weak points, or prove to be more than simply a cautionary tale. Here, before her, there was an opportunity to teach, and the heart of a budding Jedi wreathed in compassion, willing to learn. Aelyn's demeanor in and of itself was a refreshing change from the bickering of the masters overhead, and her eager kindness did her credit. "I'm sorry, I'm not making much sense, am I?" she sighed, shaking her head sadly. As Skye continued to bustle around the surgery, Jaina mounted an attempt to give some outlining explanation. "There is a planet that I only knew by the name of Nhagathul, and many years ago, when I was young, I was taken there. There was a darkness there, some kind of strange being. They called it the 'Dark City', and I only assume it hated the presence of light. Sith Lords used to hide out on the planet because if any Jedi came knocking, their souls would be ripped away from their bodies the instant they came within reach." Glancing back down to the pre-teen on the stretcher, she gestured with a slight nod of her head. "Just like, it seems, happened to Tirzah." Thinking once more upon the strange appearance in the midst of the council meeting, Jaina's brow knotted into a frown. "But I've never heard of Nhagathul extending its power beyond the planet before. And not only that..." Unfurling the sleeve she clutched in her hand, she held it in the light for the plain examination of the others. It was, to all observers, obvious that it was the heathered brown burlap of a traditional Jedi robe. "If I am correct, Tirzah may not be the only one captive on the planet." Now come with me, Nhagathul... A passing chill shook her shoulders as the woman's hissing demand filled her mind. The tawny fabric gave her some small measure of tactile comfort, proving that the sudden appearance of the hag, the woman, and the nursing infant had not simply been a shared hallucination. Filthy with oily ichor, it raised questions to which she had no answers, that which would only be obtained by a visit to the Dark City itself. "Your insights serve you well, Aelyn," she continued, "but I'm afraid that there's nothing we can do here other than watch over her and keep her safe and comfortable." Deftly folding the sleeve into a small square, she tucked it into a pouch on her belt. "These are uncharted stars," she added vulnerably, offering the apprentice a wan smile.

No sooner had Darex’ words released her from his presence than Jaina went flying out of the chamber, down the convoluted system of ramps and staircases, and onto the grassy dunes above the beachhead that contained the landing platforms. Steeled against whatever eventuality she might uncover, she followed Skye’s presence to the Serenity, where she was setting up a stasis field around Tirzah. Jedi Master or no, the image that she beheld caused a quickening of her pulse and a sinking feeling in her gut. The girl’s vital signs were steady, aside from an elevated heart rate, but there was something unnaturally pale about her features that stole Jaina’s breath. Her delicate curls stuck to her sweaty forehead, fearful features seeming more mannequin than lifelike. Laying the back of her fingers alongside the girl’s face, Jaina’s brow knotted in carefully controlled anguish, knowing far more than she would have liked to admit about the girl’s predicament. “Have you ever felt the effects of an ysalamiri, Aelyn?” her voice came, far more controlled than she was expecting it to be. The surprise at the lack of tremor in her voice gave her pause, but when she continued, she turned to meet the apprentice’s eyes. “Did it feel the same? Hope fled, but Jaina grasped its heel. She would do what she must, and Xae’s suggestion was beginning to take root. Perhaps if she had need to journey to Nhagathul, she might not need to go it alone. Into the bond that she shared with Raynuk she delved. Surprisingly, she had found herself relatively unaffected by it for the most part since arriving on Kashyyyk. Either the bond itself had dimmed in intensity, or she had gotten better at learning how to control it. Without knowing whether words would carry across the ethereal nature of their bond, she nevertheless poured into it her vulnerable anguish, that weakness that she dared not show to anyone here, her Achilles heel that was somehow being used against her. Tirzah’s gone… It was all she could muster, even wordlessly, but it was all she needed to say, as her eyes turned back to the unconscious form of her daughter and her free hand clutched the dirty sleeve of Nhagathul’s robe.

Paralysis. The sudden influx of vibrant emotions silenced Jaina like a stealthy hand from the Force had clamped over her mouth. Not sinister or dark in its motion, it withheld a series of scathing retorts intended for the impertinent Vos, it kept her feet when the spectre of the hag appeared with a dark omen that she did not immediately comprehend, it restrained her when the sharp voice of the Empress decried the truest sense of the Jedi understanding of the Force that she felt she could have possibly offered. But it could not restrain her from this. The name of Nhagathul had ignited dread in her spirit; Xae's entrance set her limbs to weakness. Tirzah. Her daughter was gone. All else fled from her mind. Such was the danger of attachment. "Xae-Lin," she said breathlessly, pain alight behind her eyes. "Keep watch over her, please. There is nothing we can do for her here." A poor attempt at a smile flickered at the corners of her lips. Slowly, deliberately, she extended an arm to Xae, as though welcoming her into the assembly. In truth, Jaina was desperate for a grounding presence. Not even imperiled, the girl was completely absent from Jaina's senses, as cold and lifeless as death, absent from Kashyyyk in its entirety. What she had told Xae was true, and it would not do any good to worry over Tirzah's corporeal form: she no longer inhabited it. It was not a matter of stabilizing her, or treating her medically, but rather a matter of retrieving her. Taking Darex' admonishment to heart had not prevented the worry of a mother to well up in her gut, but he was right. They needed a plan, especially as she now had a journey to make to a planet she would have liked to leave far behind her. How? How had she been found, and why? As much as she had done to atone, the sins of her past found her again and yet again. The absence of Tirzah's bright spirit proved one thing to her. The sins of the fathers--or the mothers--did indeed pass on to the next generation. Nhagathul had wanted her daughter, Nhagathul had taken her daughter. Stepping in as a spokesperson amidst the meeting with the Empire had simply revealed how out of place she truly was among the gathered. Her face grew hot, chastised as she had been by her fellow master who somehow kept himself locked up tighter than the Yaga Minor library. The darkness that surrounded him, under careful examination, was not the sinister blackness of soul, but the careful weariness of one who had borne up under too many secrets for too long, who had seen injustice one too many times. Nevertheless, it was his last comment that finally loosed her tongue. "The Jedi cannot be soldiers, Master Vos," she said firmly, finding her voice once again, albeit a trembling one, "and for my part, I would readily dismiss from service any Jedi who wish us to be at the beck and call of a government. Advisors, protectors, defenders, investigators, but not soldiers. Never soldiers." You were a fool to place your faith in the conveniently virtuous... The taunt rang in her mind, and Jaina swallowed the chaos of emotion within her into a single streamlined harmony, pushing aside all useless thoughts of her own inadequacy. The Force was with her. She had fought for her place at this table. She had made the mistakes that led to darkness already and she had vowed to protect others from them. The time had come for the Jedi, and especially the Council, to no longer be the paragon of virtue only when it suited them. Educational reform had never been anywhere near the top of her to-do list before, but it was steadily growing in its efforts to vie for attention. "If we are losing Jedi Knights to the service of the Empire," she continued, "then maybe it is a good idea to reevaluate how seriously we are taking their education in the way of the Jedi. It's not for everyone, and it is certainly not understood by most. If what Master Vos says is true, then maybe we do need to look into the current roster." Crouching in the center of the room, she seized the discarded sleeve that still dripped with black ichor, and folded it neatly onto itself. Turning back to Darex, she met his eyes sincerely, her sudden clarity apparent. "Master Kirlocca appeared to me," she announced, "with a couple of recommendations. The first, well... the first is personal and irrelevant." The warring counsel she had received from Kirlocca and Xae where Tobias Vos was concerned vied for acknowledgment in her mind, so she let it be for now. As he had cautioned her, she would trust the Force. The sharp manner of the other Master was off-putting and seemed a far cry from the man she had met on Tython, but then again, they were all present on Kashyyyk in a time of great change. Perhaps she was just reading into things. It certainly seemed as though his opinion of her was not favorable, but it gained nothing to dwell on such things. They didn't have to like each other, but they did have to work together. "The second was that a war is on our doorstep. As Master Illioni has suggested, I think it's imperative that we establish what our relationship with the Alliance and the Remnant are going to be sooner rather than later. If Master Organa or Master Illioni has a previous connection to this new Supreme Commander, perhaps one of them can represent the cause of the Jedi to the Alliance. Kirlocca believed that a relationship with Head of State Zinthos was of utmost importance." She glanced at the door through which the Imperial delegation had disappeared. "I do not disagree with him, but I know also that we can't be beholden to them. Jedi start wars as quickly as they stop them, and a lightsaber can be used to maim and murder as easily as defend. If they don't want us as advisors, and choose an order of their own making, I feel there is very little room for us." Looking back to Tobias, she concluded, "He also told me that there is a holocron aboard his ship, still docked on Carida, that should be retrieved and unopened, to be held in trust until the Force wills it to be given. If you're going to Carida, I think it would be prudent to retrieve it and return it to Ossus for the time being." Kirlocca had insinuated that such a task should pass to her specifically, but if she was to display trust in Tobias, this was perhaps the best way she could think up on the fly, with as distracted and fragmented as her thoughts currently felt. A returning warmth from Emily's soul pressed into hers, and Jaina took momentary comfort in it. Even if there was not resolution between herself and her niece, apparently there was no lingering ill will, and the thought emboldened her. Maybe not everything in her life was evaporating and fragmenting. But the brief touch recalled Raynuk's presence to mind, and as she touched the connection in her mind that belonged to him, Jaina recalled another important point of order, though she found herself inexplicably hesitant to bring it before the Council. "There is one more thing," she began slowly. "Master Ardel and I, in our travels, ran across a cult calling themselves the Cult of Morthos. They seem to be more sophisticated than your average brainwashed psychopath. They're collecting tomes of ancient knowledge, and I don't know why. They raided the Sith library on Raxus Prime, and I have reason to believe they may have attacked several other sites in addition. I have a handful of contacts who have been in pursuit of this cult, and I would recommend that we dispatch a small task force of some kind to continue this investigation. I would go myself, but I fear I am the only one who will be able to retrieve my daughter." Her tone was bitterly regretful and her heart felt like lead. There was nothing easy about the road the Jedi had before them. But her foreboding had more to do with the sleeve she clutched in white-knuckled hands.

Tirzah awoke to the sounds of sobbing coming from the shuttle refresher and groggily tried to get some measure of the time. It felt dark outside save for the deadlights, and for some reason, the number four came to her mind. Four AM? She didn’t think she would sleep for that long, but maybe she was coming down with something. Rising up from her bunk, she gave one last wistful look at herself before going to check on whoever was in the refresher. Through the door, she heard a girl’s voice. “I’ve made such a mess, Father is going to kill me. He’s right, I can’t do anything properly.” The refresher door opened and a fever dream of splattered blood coating the room greeted Tirzah. With the more-real-than-reality clarity of dreams, she saw the sobbing figure of a girl with such detail that it may as well have been etched on her brain. The sorrowful sounds she had been making belied the rictus grin on her lolling head, but proved a better match for the wounds on her forearms. They were deep, ragged gashes that had torn away chunks of flesh and had scoured so deeply that bone and ligament were plainly visible. “Maybe if I could practice on you I could get it right. Now won’t you please hold still?” A scream escaped Tirzah’s lips like a metaphor for her desire to be anywhere but where she was, and her legs instinctively began to move her towards the landing platform and away from the horror. The shuttle deck seemed to stretch on for eternity and her stride felt mired in thick molasses, but finally, she reached the landing pad and the safety of people. “I only want you to help me. Get back here you little kath!” The sanctuary of others was soon shattered when she realized that despite her panic and screaming, they were just looking at her. The darkness around the pad pressed in heavily until all Tirzah could see were silhouettes with the cold deadlights pulsing from their eyes. The crowd surged forth at an unheard signal, limbs crackling as they pounded forth like bones breaking with each step. The hollow intensity of their hunger hit Tirzah before they did, and she felt like they were going to eat her alive, but a colder entity reined them in, and they simply seized her roughly and carried her into the darkness, leaving only the body behind. As Tirzah felt some sort of terminus approaching, she heard shrieks all around her, and a bony hand grasped her arm tightly, pulling her into a different darkness, where even her sight failed her... ((Preapproved by involved parties))

"The Jedi are not a military force," Jaina said slowly, engaging Raven's request for assistance with cautious evaluation. "We serve as defenders, upholding the value of life, and hoping for the redemption of others at every juncture. Had the Jedi joined in a crusade against the Sith when I myself was counted among their number, I might not be standing here with you now." Turning to Kyrie, tears glimmering in her eyes, the shade of her niece filled in the pieces of the puzzle she had not yet learned where Emily was concerned, and gratitude swelled from within her heart. "I may speak only for myself, but I will never cease to hope for reconciliation, and will stand as a wall and a guard against those who might cause harm until they are redeemed." Reaching out, she accepted the exceptionally long hilt of the Knight's saber in her hands reverently. Turning it on its end, she examined the craftsmanship in silence. The signature of light that ebbed from within its metal confines was pure but stark, and the intensity was searing. Letting the brilliant luminosity of its beam erupt into the room, Jaina clutched the saber firmly in her hands, gazing up into its silver light as she held it aloft. "The brightest light casts the darkest shadow," she murmured, halfway to herself, as she deactivated the saber and folded it back into Kyrie's hands. "You would do well to remember this, Kyrie of the Empire. Bring peace with you, but not at the cost of freedom. This is a lesson that Kirlocca left with me, a lesson that can be seen in the unfolding of the galaxy's story. Peace is found from within, not from without, and those that seek to bring it against the will of another find themselves holding the sword of the oppressor." Bowing to the Imperial Knight, she turned once more to Raven Zinthos. "I believe I speak for the Council when I say that we cannot participate in a war against the Sith. That is not our calling. We will defend you when called upon, and stand as a bastion if darkness comes to your doorstep." Jaina momentarily reached through the Force to the dark-clad Empress, testing the fringes of her offer, when a brief image flashed in her mind: the Wookiee Master's eyes, soft and concerned. What she perceived there was surprising, and her face flushed pink. This was not for her to see, nor for any others who stood in the room. This was no longer politics, and Jaina no longer held any doubt that the young woman was innocent in the matter of the Grandmaster's death. With a slow and perceptive nod, she met Zinthos' eyes. "I think we understand one another," she said quietly. Glancing at Darex, she continued, her voice directed to the Imperials, "However, we would, with your permission, like to send a task force to Carida to investigate the matter of the Grandmaster's death. For Kirlocca to be beaten in combat, it seems apparent to me that there is a sinister element lurking under the surface that we ought to look into." Suddenly feeling conspicuous at the impulsive initiative she had taken as the newcomer to the Council, Jaina turned back toward her fellows in the Jedi. Her eyes fell to Vos, who had not yet weighed in one way or another where Darex's authority was concerned. To present a united front, the confidence in their choice of Grandmaster should have been presented outside of the presence of the Imperials, but it was too late for such politicking now. At the very least, she would defer the dismissal of the Imperial delegation to the former martyr, hoping against hope that the unknown variable would save any concerns for the privacy of their collected debate. More than anything, she burned with an urgency to make amends with her niece. While the meeting at present was incredibly important, and she would not hurry it along for her own personal reasons, she nevertheless couldn't stop herself from reaching out through the Force, emanating warmth and concern. Emily...

The brassy clang of the rattling gong echoed through the open and airy chamber as they assumed their seats. Even with the doors closed and the masters themselves secluded therein, the windows and open roof high in Tree Kachirho still let in the steady roar of the neighboring sea. The feline Master who introduced the meeting, from Kirlocca's communique, must have been Master Dashel Illioni. The strange and impromptu greeting from Tobias, who she remembered from Tython, confirmed such a suspicion. Up till now, Jaina had scarcely let herself consider who might be nominated next to fill the large void left by the Wookiee. But unlike the era of old, when the strength of the Jedi was reflected in the cohesion and effectiveness of their Council, the fragmented nature of the Order was reflected in the fact that this was the collection that now made up the Council. Glancing between the faces in this room, her heart sank a little. What have you left us, old friend? Darex Trevelian's sudden return was a solid tally on the side of those who claimed the Force as a sentient deity. There was little about his return that could be coincidental: to her estimation, it may have even occurred the same moment that the Wookiee Master returned his life to the Force. Skye Organa, ever-steady, would have been the best choice, but the Grandmaster whose tenure was halted by his own martyrdom, saving the galaxy and the Force itself, could not be overlooked. "I, too, would like to support the recommendation of Master Trevelian for the honor of Grandmaster. If," she glanced haltingly at him, a hopeful smile creeping into the edges of her expression. "he is willing to accept such a position." Turning to the pair of Imperials, she bowed her head to them, this time letting her attention fall on the young woman kissed by the scars of her past, and offering a warm and genuine welcome, solemn as her air was in the moment. "Let's not keep our friends from the Remnant waiting. There is much to be discussed that should remain for our ears only, no offense meant to our honored guests." Her eyes flicked to Tobias, recalling the admonishment of the ghost she had met on the Great Walkway. Despite what the Wookiee said, she did not trust him, and could scarcely bring herself to do so. Xae's suspicions had been conferred on her, and while she attempted to clear her mind from distraction, there was an aura or an air of darkness around Tobias that seemed distant and somehow familiar. But there could not be division in the Council. They must stand together, or by necessity dissolve. By reputation alone, she trusted Darex implicitly, and Skye had earned her trust across years. Dashel she knew little of, and Tobias even less. Resolved internally to arrange a separate conversation with the latter, she nevertheless kept her focus on the sharply dressed Imperials, the brief acknowledgment of the Kiffar never breaking her determined demeanor. "Lady Zinthos," she began hesitantly, "what do you envision the continuing relationship between the Jedi Order and the Imperial Remnant to be? I am aware that Master Kirlocca was visiting you shortly before his death, and I assume that was the subject of your meeting with him. Given that he is no longer present to report, I hoped we might call upon you to repeat your conversation for the benefit of this Council, if you don't mind." She glanced to the young Knight who stood alongside the Head of State. "I would also like to hear about your Imperial Knights. Knight Eleison, it is my understanding that you were formerly a Jedi, is that correct?"

Tirzah followed Sandy's gaze once more. Something in the demeanor of the man she watched was troubled, she could see it, a mantle kindred with the heavy one she herself carried. Only children of the Order looked and felt this way. But as she studied him, a wave of exhaustion rolled over her. It had been a long time since she enjoyed the solitude to which she had become accustomed, and suddenly, the last thing she wanted to do was meet anyone new here at the Grandmaster's wake. "It's nice to see you, Sandy, but I think I need to go lie down. I'm not feeling well," she excused herself. She tapped out a quick message to Jaina in her comm, knowing her mother would likely not be privy to it until following the Council meeting taking place in upper Kachirho, but nonetheless knew that it would be appreciated. I'm going to rest on the shuttle I came in with Master Darex. If you need to find me he will know where I am, she sent quickly. The twins weren't on the ship when she returned to it, but that was no surprise. Suddenly feeling strangely light-headed, she stumbled to her bunk and nearly collapsed, her back pressed against the bulkhead, her head swimming.

As Tirzah followed the older girl, pleased with herself for making friends at such a stoic event--and even more pleased to hear the mention of "dessert"--she exhaled heavily at the question posed to her. "I think adventure is a little overrated," she said in a precocious tone. "Honestly, whenever someone says the word 'adventure' around my mom, someone gets hurt. And it's usually her." She piled pastries onto her plate and continued. She hadn't expected to be so hungry, but her personal sense of propriety had not yet reached the threshold of withholding her from adding to her collection. "We've been all over. I got to meet a girl who helped heal my eyes, a bit. She wasn't a Jedi. I'm not really sure what she was." It only then occurred to her that mentioning Raia at such a gathering was probably not in the girl's best interests, given who she now roamed the galaxy with. Tirzah had no doubt Raynuk Montar would take good care of her friend, but carrying around the knowledge of such a friendship in a gathering of Jedi--especially one populated by Imperials--seemed secrecy bordering on danger. Letting her words trail off, she caught a brief flicker of anxious and excited energy. Sandy had obviously seen something that made her start, and Tirzah focused her strange Miraluka-style vision in the direction of the blonde teen's eyes. There, among the Imperial delegation, there stood a young man sharply dressed in an Imperial uniform. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him, except that his bearing was a bit melancholy, to be expected at a memorial service. Even so, she found herself mildly curious. Ignoring the older girl's standard question, she gestured with her chin at the young man as she finished loading up the pile of delicacies and grabbed for a cup of caf. "Who is that?" she asked impertinently. "Someone you know? I didn't think the Imperials would care so much that Master Kirlocca died."

The dissolution of the service occurred faster than Jaina would have expected, but truly, it was a good omen that the Jedi moved quickly and were not sulking in morose mourning. Following the greeting from Zara Nargal of the Link, unnoticed by most as the scurry of movement began, she sank to a seat on the edge of the erected platform. Hanging her feet off the edge and surveying the crowd, the wearied chaos of the past several days dispelled in large part when her eyes fell on the source and cure of her worry in the distance. Before another word was spoken, she swiftly reached out through the Force to rumple the curls atop her daughter's head. We'll talk later, missy. I'm glad you're here, she communicated blithely to the girl. No doubt there was a story as to how Tirzah had gotten thrown in with the esteemed Master Trevelian, but such a story could keep momentarily. There was a queer whisper in the air, one Jaina could scarcely put a name to. Many strings, shatterpoints, even, were connected to this moment. It seemed as though she was watching them all unfold in the momentary quiet, as each connection was made, unfolding into the future with spiraling complexity. It was dizzying, euphoric, even, but she knew she could not follow the paths to their inevitable conclusion: such a task was for meditation, for quiet. Now was the time to present herself to the Order as much as it was to present the legacy of her fallen friend. No sooner had the thought entered into her mind than a small voice beside her caught her attention, as a young towheaded Jedi stepped forward and introduced herself. Taken aback by the apparent age of the girl, Jaina smiled at her curiously. "Knight Sarna? Such a mantle of responsibility on one so young." Yet inwardly, a pang of wistful sadness enveloped her. She had been this girl's age when she walked the Grand Hall of the Jedi all those years ago, begging forgiveness at the feet of Adi-Wan Tinova. The renowned Master's response had set her down a path she could never have foreseen, and she was determined to be the leader she had needed at that age, a mentor like the one she had never had. Resting a hand on the girl's shoulder, she sighed. "Forgive me. Mother's instinct. I look at everyone and see a child needing protection: entirely unfair to you. My daughter would remind me that it's exquisitely unfair to her, too," she smiled. Trying on her new title for size, she offered her name to the girl. "I am Master Jaina Jade Skywalker." At that moment, Tirzah came darting through the crowd and up to her side, throwing her arms impulsively around her mother firmly enough to knock the wind briefly out of her diaphragm, startling Jaina utterly. This kind of authentic affection had not been exhibited by the girl except in moments of deep sorrow, and the waves of relief rolling off her daughter brought a slow creeping warmth to the corners of her heart. "Speaking of daughters, here she is now. Tirzah, this is Knight Sarna." "Sandy?" Tirzah's pale eyes widened. "It's me, Tirzah! We met on Tython. You're a knight, now?" A pair of chirps from her comlink broke her focus, and after glancing at the messages' contents, Jaina offered the blonde girl another smile, this one colored with inevitable regret. "Forgive me again. It looks as though I am being summoned to a meeting of the Council. Please, I'd like to make better acquaintance, if you'll be staying on the planet for a while. Perhaps you girls can chat until I come back." With another sidelong squeeze of her daughter and a bowed nod to the young Knight, she slipped off the dais and let the weary smile drift off of her face. As she shouldered her way through the crowd, the black-robed form of Misal Draygo caught her attention once more. Her slim fingers rested on the woman's arm for a moment, just enough to divert attention momentarily as she slipped her comm frequency into the Miraluka's palm. She said nothing, but the words that slipped into Misal's mind would be apparent. From mother to mother, I owe you one, the silent thanks emanating from her as she continued on toward her objective. Nodding to the Imperial delegation as she passed the flanking troopers, she arrived just in time to eavesdrop on Xae-Lin's greeting. So, this was the leader of the Imperial Knights whose comm had prefaced her arrival. But she had another connection to make and interrupting seemed impertinent, besides which, Kirlocca's ethereal admonition had made such a likely conversation a high priority for Jaina. Stopping before the Imperial Head of State, she bowed in the Jedi fashion. "Lady Zinthos, I am Master Jaina Skywalker," she said efficiently. "Thank you for coming. I believe it makes a statement of good faith to see the Imperial Remnant present in peace at such a gathering. I believe it to be imperative that we establish the terms of the relationship between the Jedi Order and the Remnant, and I ask for your patience with our fractured leadership as we endeavor to do so. While the Council has much to discuss that must remain private, I believe that it would be pertinent to you and your General of the Imperial Knights--" she gestured with a toss of her head toward the pair of Exorcists "--to speak with the entire Council, if you are willing." With a nod of understanding and another parting bow, Jaina excused herself once more, meaning to make a beeline for Skye, but in her attempt to find her in the midst of the crowd that teemed with life, she spotted another familiar presence. The girl whose injuries had laid her out in the surgery onboard the Serenity had emerged, and was now talking with a pair of young children. Reaching out within the Force, she continued moving toward Skye, but not before leaving a whisper of thought behind her with the healed young woman. Pain of the body can be healed by time, but the pain of the spirit left untreated will fester and rot. Wait, stay near, and I can help you find your strength once more. When she finally located Skye, it was with her arms wrapped joyously around the very real form of Darex Trevelian. "Here you are," she said with a note of relief to her voice. While Jaina's proclivity for connection with others generally reigned, in crowds such as this in the wake of a high pressure scenario left her desirous for solitude in a way she could not begin to put to words. The meditation chambers on board the Ferro Re would be a relief after all of this. Not to mention that the Council meeting itself left her with a note of foreboding in her gut, a sense she had learned to attribute to the leadings of the Force. While she would have liked to believe that she was at her leisure among the assembled mass, were she to acknowledge it, wariness still shrouded her like a shield in all the politicking of the event. "I take it you've been summoned as well," she added to Skye. Glancing upward at the returned former Grandmaster, respect filled Jaina's eyes as she extended a hand to rest on his arm. Beside such a man, who himself had performed the duties of a martyr, she felt woefully underqualified to fill the shoes in which she now walked. "Master Trevelian, I won't claim to understand, but I'm relieved to see you. I am Jaina Jade Skywalker," she concluded, "Tirzah's mother." The trio would proceed directly to the site of the Council meeting, a lofty corridor in Tree Kachirho that boasted a circular gathering room that overlooked the water, high above the grassland amphitheater. ((For the purposes of this event, posts for Jaina Jade Skywalker and Tirzah Jade Colos may or may not be combined to avoid alias confusion or excess thread clutter.))

Wind rustled the leaves of the great wroshyrs, their branches living percussion instruments that rattled a beat without measure. Here, the insistent growls of the beasts that daily tread the forest floor met with the squawks and calls of the birds who made the coastal region home. The voice of the ocean withheld its roar in honor of one of its own whose legendary growl had fallen silent, settling for a soft hush that seemed to require silence from every voice. Today, all would listen and meditate, gathered on the ancestral homeworld of the great Wookiee. To all the assembled, it would seem as though indeed Kirlocca’s spirit had embarked upon its journey home to rest. To Jaina Jade Skywalker, who stood flanked by the Wookiee honor guard that had assembled, her long braid hiding under the hood of the caf-colored cloak that topped her fresh olive-green robes, it was another journey entirely: her first assumption of the mantle of authority that Kirlocca had rested upon her just before he left on his last mission and reaffirmed to her deep in the forests of Kashyyyk. Did he have some foresight, even then on Ossus, that his fate awaited him on Carida? Was the confidence he placed in Jaina simply the hasty action of a kindly soul who tried to amend the wrongs the Order had wrought upon her? His words to her decried such doubtful thoughts, and truly, her considerations were fruitless, but yet she wondered if all of a sudden one of the others would tell her that there had all been some colossal misunderstanding and she had instead been called here to give an account and a reckoning of all of her misdeeds and follies. But this was not the case. Instead, she stood before them all, looking out at the Order she had long loved and wrestled with, the last student of the great Wookiee Master, by his affirmation, steadiness, and grace, able to accept the title of Master Skywalker. ----- On the Great Walkway, he had appeared to her, just as full of life and strength as he had been on Ossus. Jaina’s heart caught in her throat, her eyes welled with tears. There were so many questions she had for him, so many reasons to push back on the mantle he had given her. She could not begin to conceive of how the Order needed her, her, specifically, but his spirit had journeyed across the dividing line between lives to speak with her: she would not trouble him with questions. His charges to her gave her much to meditate on, and it was with a grave sense of responsibility that she embarked with the cavalcade to Kachirho, his final whisper echoing in her mind. Trust the Force. When she had arrived in Kachirho alongside her companions, aboard the first of a long caravan of speeders that crossed the giant forest, the coastal city was absent the somber attitude in which she expected to find it. The laughter of children and the faint tinkle of chimes in the sea breeze gave the air a sense of liveliness that befit such a gathering. Turning to Misal and Frond, she addressed them both together, but her eyes met each one in turn with utmost sincerity. “I have much to do to prepare, but you both have my gratitude. Please, if you would like, come to the celebration tomorrow, and in the meantime, get some well-deserved rest.” No sooner had she begun her ascent into Tree Kachirho than Jaina came across a guard of twenty-some Wookiees who bore amongst them the broken body of a young girl with tousled brown hair. She was no Jedi apprentice, judging by her clothes, but her health was dire. She was pale, and her abdomen was swollen and purpled through with bruises. Through the Force, Jaina could sense that her grasp on life was tenuous. Stretching out further, hoping beyond hope, she was filled with relief and joy to sense Skye Organa present and nearby on Kashyyyk. “Wait! Stop!” she called, running after the Wookiees the best that she could with her heavily sprained ankle. “What happened here?” In short order, the Wookiees detailed how the young woman had risked her own life and limb to free them from a gang of slavers. The Force had seen fit to sustain her life thus far, but she was fading quickly. Energy flowed from her to the other, but it was tempered in part by how hard she was working to suppress the pain of her own injuries. “We need to get her to Jedi Healer Skye Organa.” She pointed to a pair of Wookiees. “Go find her, tell her that Jaina needs her.” She pointed to the Wookiees bearing the girl’s body between them. “You come with me.” Admitted by the Healer’s droid, I-Nine, Jaina directed the Wookiees to place the battered young woman gently on one of the operating tables in the surgery on Skye’s ship, the Serenity. So focused on managing her pain and attempting to triage the girl, she almost failed to detect the entry of her friend the Healer. “Skye,” Jaina managed weakly, her own pain finally getting the better of her as she staggered and leaned against the adjacent table, “you have no idea how glad I am to see you.” The Healer smiled and shook her head, “Seems like you had a little too much fun here. Did you complete your task?” pausing a moment before adding, “Now, where to start…” the last words were spoken more or less to herself as she catalogued Jaina’s injuries. “We recovered a holocron,” the young Skywalker responded hastily, “but it was a forgery. The whole thing was a trap meant for Kirlocca. The great tree of Rwookrrorro… I rescued the Wookiees, but not their home.” With a brief wave of her hand, she gestured to the spritely girl beside her. “Don’t worry too much about me. I tried to stabilize her, but she’s in bad shape.” Skye gave a sharp nod to Jaina adding, “I-Nine, Flitter, full scans on both of them please and some bacta patches.” Her droids were well able to treat the lesser injuries though would settle Jaina while Skye worked on her companion. Stepping over to the other examination table she began with sending a gentle wave of force energy over the young woman. Glancing over at the young Jedi Knight, Skye asked, “Did you catch her name by any chance?” The Healer liked to address her patients by name if she could, even when they were unconscious. Jaina shook her head minutely. “No, she’s been out cold this whole time.” Ever so gently the Healer removed the girl’s outer clothing, wincing for her at the painful looking bruises that adorned her torso. “Her lungs have fluid on them, that’s where I will begin. Whoever it was that did a number on her, I’d like to pay them a visit… I may be a Healer but I sure would like to see how they fared against someone who could fight back. Did I hear the Wookiees correctly that they were slavers?” Skye’s voice had hardened, even as she let the soothing light energies of the healing Force wash over the girl. There was a head wound, internal bleeding, liver and kidney damage, broken and bruised ribs, her sternum itself cracked. Her hands hovering over the girl’s lungs started to glow with a white light as the Healer focused her energies on that area. Flitter brought a bowl over and held it under Faux’s left hand while putting up a holographic screen with her vital signs so that Skye could see it. Time seemed to slow down as the Jedi Healer fell into her trance, soothing and working the fluid out from her patient’s lungs to drip out into the bowl that the hoverdroid held. Once Skye had healed her lungs she moved on to the internal bleeding, then her kidneys and liver, soothing the bruising and repairing the damage. Next were her ribs where she had to straighten out and knit together the broken ribs and the points at which they connected to her repaired sternum. The cuts over Faux sealed themselves and the bruising was encouraged to heal faster than if they had just been left. Last to be healed was the head wound, the Healer examining Faux carefully so as to make sure there was no underlying damage that may have been caused. Her patient would still feel sore with many tender areas over her body but she would be healed and on the road to recovery. When Skye came out of her trance she glanced back at the holographic display then commented to Jaina, “She will have to take things very easy for a while though she should make a full recovery. She may need some counselling with regards to having been beaten so badly so keep an eye on her. Bacta can heal the body but the Force can heal the soul.” I-Nine chose that moment to bring Skye and Jaina a nutrient drink each. It was one that Skye had developed that not only gave a much needed energy boost but was also very tasty. Finishing her drink and feeling refreshed from it, the Healer turned her attention to Jaina and murmured, “Your turn.” As Skye let the light energies flow over Jaina, Flitter changed the holographic display to show the Jedi Knight’s vital signs. Again a bright white light flowed from her hands over the young woman’s injuries. For a while the Healer was silent as she worked before stating, “Kirlocca informed me that you were coming here to get the holocron. Do you know why he sent you?” Exhaling deeply as the gentle wash of the Force soothed her aching head, Jaina looked up toward her friend, her expression slightly puzzled. “He said he wanted to keep it out of the hands of the Cult or others who would want to use it for destruction. I’m not proud of the fact that I failed at the last mission he ever assigned.” “Besides the loss of Rwookrrorro, no lives were lost. You saved many lives. The fact that the holocron was a fake… you still discovered that fact. Is there another reason why you thought you failed?” “The assailant,” she added grimly. “I tried to stun him, keep him for questioning, find out where the real holocron was, but he didn’t survive the fall.” Skye observed the young woman before her, “He may not have told you what you needed to know. I assume he tried to kill you? Did you have any helpers with you?” “Yes, actually,” she frowned. “I came across Misal Draygo, Armiena’s mother, as well as a strange native of the Shadowlands called Frond.” Skye wanted to ask how Misal was though that could wait. With any luck she would come across her at the funeral. Instead she asked another question. “Would you say you inspired your helpers?” The questions seemed strange, but Jaina nonetheless considered the implications with weight. Frond’s bright presence and the way he seemed to bring warmth to her spirit came instantly to mind, as well as Misal’s begrudging postponement of her own task. “Honestly, Skye, they inspired me,” she said with a twinkling half-smile. “But yes, I suppose so. They invested in my task when it was not theirs to be concerned about.” The Healer returned the smile, nodding her head sagely. “Master Kirlocca was testing you with this task. Now, you didn’t cause a Galactic War,” her eyes sparkled with humour as she quoted from the comm. she had received from the Grandmaster, “... and while homes were lost, lives were saved. You found the holocron even if it was a forgery. I feel that your objectives were met. You inspired others and they, you. I believe you have earned the title of Jedi Master. Congratulations Jaina.” Skye let her hand rest upon the new Master’s healed arm as she slumped in surprise against the adjacent table. In truth, it did not come as a complete shock the way her appointment to the Council had been, but it seemed apparent that the deceased master had some foresight into his own demise, otherwise why would have he left such instructions with Skye? With a shaky exhale, she stood on firm feet, her body pieced together by the ministrations of the skilled Healer. “Thank you, Master Skye,” she said quietly. Turning to I-Nine, she added, “Please watch over the girl. When she wakes, tell her I would like to speak with her, and in the meantime, she can join the Jedi at the memorial or seek out the Wookiees she has saved.” ----- On the grasslands between Tree Kachirho and Tree Vikkilynn, there was a vaulted structure that served as the meeting place and center of ceremony. The residents of the Wawaatt Archipelago had withheld no pomp and circumstance; the uncomplicated beauty reflected an element of exquisite purity in their devotion. Jaina herself stood alongside Skye, the present representatives of the Council, and two powerful Wookiee chieftains, Rruklowrra of Kachirho and Graanta of fallen Rwookrrorro, as they led the amassed honor guard of Wookiee warriors in a traditional display of mourning. Turning their fangs to the air, they cried out in their native tongue, bidding a final farewell to a fallen kinsman, a warrior who had died with honor. The massive roar silenced the crowd, and Jaina stepped forward to the podium that had been erected of lush greenery that seemed to grow out of the very ground on which it stood. With a meditative breath, she looked out, surveying all of the faces. There were many familiar and even more that were unfamiliar; a delegation from the Imperials that included Head of State Raven Zinthos, to whom she gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, the deceased Grandmaster’s advice in the back of her mind; Xae-Lin Ardel, whose safety in the wake of Onderon brought peace to her spirit; and, with a sudden flash of surprise that she hoped was not too evident on her features, Darex Trevelian, back from beyond the grave, seated next to her daughter. Tirzah was here. Her heart flooded with joy and relief, and with renewed confidence and strength she addressed the assembly. Trust the Force. “Welcome, my friends,” she said quietly, her voice amplified by the natural shape of the structure and by subtle application of the Force. “Today, we gather from across the stars, putting aside differences to honor one who gave his life in the service of the galaxy and its people. We remember our leader as one who embodied the principles to which the Jedi hold fast. “He was strong, a warrior matchless in skill, his blade itself a shield against injustice. He was a guardian of the weak who tirelessly shouldered the paradoxical burden of fighting for peace. “He was wise, seeing beyond appearances, piercing the darkness with unwavering light. In times of uncertainty, he grounded us with serenity. In times of conflict, he centered us with harmony. In grief and death, he offered us the comfort of steadfast truth. “He was selfless, serving the people of the galaxy as well as encouraging his brothers and sisters in the Jedi without hesitation or thought to himself. When we needed a leader, he put aside his well-earned rest to assume the mantle. “He was kind, and epitomized the open hand of the light unto redemption. Many of us are living proof of this belief, myself included. He created a home within the light for any who were willing to be instructed by it. “We do not mourn as the rest of the galaxy, as those without hope; even now, he is within the living Force itself, his power returned to the source, and therefore, he is in each of us.” As if to punctuate her statement, a slight breeze ruffled the grasses, drawing chills up Jaina’s spine as she extended her hands, palms facing up, toward the gathered assembly. “We affirm the joy of sharing in his life and his mission, and on behalf of the Jedi Council, I affirm our commitment to continue in the lessons we learned at his mighty hand and stand against darkness in all its iterations. “Kirlocca, steadfast Grand Master, “May the Force be with you.” With a sharp crack and vibrant hum, her violet saber ignited, its flame casting brilliant light across the features of those in its immediate vicinity, and Jaina lifted it slowly to the open air, casting her eyes upward in a final display of solemn celebration. All across the gathered crowd, a sea of color erupted as the assembled Jedi mirrored her salute, a rainbow of color as varied and beautiful as the spectrum of the Force itself. ((Co-written with Skye Organa and posted with permission))

A broad smile broke across her face, and Tirzah gasped in pleasant surprise. "Aelyn!" Impulsively, the girl wrapped her arms around the older apprentice. "It's a long story, but the short version is that for a little while I was stuck somewhere within my own mind with a... friend... who tried to save me. When we came back out of that place in the Force, I could see more than I used to be able to." She tilted her head up to look at the strawberry-colored curls and tentatively reached a hand toward them. "I used to see things in shadows and shades, in the energy of the Force around them, and I can still see that way, but it's nice to know what other people are talking about when they talk about color or texture." A call sounded out from the grasslands below the ancient tree city, and Tirzah turned her face that direction. "We should go, I need to find Master Darex before the ceremony starts."

It was obvious the Cerean Jedi did not believe her. To be fair, it was a wild claim for any who had not seen or felt his return, nor been in contact with the former Grandmaster. For Tirzah, however, she had become as used to and comfortable with the Jedi Master as though he had never been absent. "Yeah, Master Darex. His son Jax and I have been friends for a long time and I found him on Ossus. Anyway, long story, but we ended up... um... helping him come back." Her words were faltering, and Tirzah could not help feeling like she was sounding more and more unbelievable all the time. Maybe this is why no one in the Jedi Order had ever taken her seriously. She was constantly faced with strange visions, seemingly impossible stories, and the burden of wild allegations to share. "Thanks, Master Roene," she said, albeit tiredly. "I'm excited to be a Padawan, finally." A woman she had not noticed immediately hovered at the Cerean's elbow, observing the exquisite surroundings of Kachirho. "Hello, I'm Tirzah Jade," she bowed politely in the Jedi fashion. She had offered the name she had grown up with, rather than the recent name of her father she had been given, and she could not honestly put a finger on whether or not that had been intentional.

Encrypted, a comm arrives for Kyrie Eleison.

Peace and warmth emanated from her newfound companion and despite her injuries, a curious smile crept upwards from the corner of Jaina's mouth. As much as she had grown to avoid vulnerability, there was a moment where the Frond's rain-like eyes seemed to see into something deep inside of her, and his words, simple and halting, made her feel as full of wonder as a child. For a long span of wordless contemplation, she held his gaze. The magic of the universe, of the Force itself, seemed to swirl between them, a language that needed no voice to be heard. Appropriate given his actual physical roots, Frond had a rootedness within the Force itself that needed no justifying philosophy, that contented itself with existence within the swirling eddies of life and death among the galaxy. Surrounded as she had been for the past decades in the contrary philosophies of two warring entities, the firm faith of her new friend was compelling in its simplicity. "I would like to see as you see," she said finally, a girlish twinkle in her eye. Through the Force, the pervading sense of the camp was one of utter weariness. Young ones were confused, old ones were displaced, those caught in the middle with the task of putting patterns of village life back together were exhausted. With a deep breath, Jaina closed her eyes as though to mirror the Miraluka's actions, but she kept sleep at bay. Waves of gentle energy lapped out from Jaina as she breathed, channeled from the turning of the world itself, the forests that crept ever closer to the atmosphere, and the teeming fauna that filled every nook and cranny with life. Where she herself had found more peace than she had possessed since her return to life, she offered it to the grieving ones around her. It was as if the chatter of the wilderness grew silent, and the only sound in all the galaxy was her own breath, blowing whispers of hope to the corners of the encampment and beyond. Far off, across the dense deep forest, she could sense several bright presences that stood out above and beyond the rest, some that seemed almost too familiar. The Jedi were gathering. With a final exhale, she opened her eyes once more, finding that the pounding in her own head had lessened and her ankle no longer hurt. The Wookiee medics had set the bone in her arm and wrapped her ribs about with bandages, along with grateful and firm orders that she not overextend herself. But with the growing sense of responsibility weighing on her shoulders, she began to doubt whether or not that would be possible. She was a leader, now, among the Jedi: one of only four sitting members of the Council, and the Order would be looking to her. Glancing across at Misal, whose slumped posture decried the possibility of comfort, the Jedi Knight smiled once more to herself, pushing herself to stand with her good right arm. Laying her cloak in a bunched bundle on the ground, she squatted delicately to avoid provoking the pain in her ribs, and with the assistance of the Force, shifted the Miraluka such that she was lying prone with her head on the makeshift pillow. As most mothers would, she had masked her pain exceedingly well, but her bravery on behalf of her daughter had met its match in her physical condition. At great personal expense, with her own worries to attend to, she had opted to render assistance to a reckless Knight. "I'll make it up to you," she whispered quietly, scooting away from the spent and slumbering form of the exhausted woman and propping herself up against a wroshyr trunk, gazing into the flames leaping up from the stone basin between the three weary wanderers of the Shadowlands. The last thought she had, before slipping into the healing trance that her body desperately requested, was a crystal-clear image of her niece, drawn and sickly looking, her mismatched eyes downcast, wrapped about in a grey dress and wreathed in a miasma of sorrow. Emily... ----- A sharply mechanical sound rent the air, and Jaina snapped out of her trance. It was at least an hour yet till first light, she thought with a glance at the darkened horizon. After responding succinctly to the formal message she found on her comlink, the Jedi Knight took the better part of that hour to watch the rise of Kashyyyk's native star, centering herself in meditation, expanding her presence outward. The image she had seen of her niece was troubling, but if anything, it showed that despite whatever condition she might find herself in, she was alive, and at least marginally safe. Pregnancy often had a difficult effect on the body--she herself could attest to that--and that in and of itself could be an explanation for the haggard grey visage. But nevertheless, her concern got the better of her and she also tapped out a quick message to her niece, reticent to belabor her point with the mixed feelings she felt that she would doubtless express in her voice or her face. As Frond had admonished her, her focus was needed now on honoring the Grandmaster, on the present, on stepping into her new shoes in the Order, and she could do Emily no good at the moment. With that in mind, she erased it without sending it, tucking her comlink back in her pocket. Announced by the hum of approaching engines, their transports to Kachirho began to arrive.

Tirzah shrugged. "I'm fine," she answered noncommittally. In truth, she had no idea how she was. The last week, the last month, it had been a whirlwind of one thing after another, and she felt as if she slowed down, or stopped moving at all, the crushing weight of emotions from all the experiences would halt her in her place. Better to push forward, to keep learning, to keep moving, and to avoid thinking too hard about what she had gained or what she had lost. She was tempted to reach out for her mother but her limited skills in masking her own presence halted her. If Jaina was still on the mission Master Kirlocca had given her, Tirzah's arrival on Kashyyyk would only drive her mother to distraction, and she knew that. Better to stay where she was. "I came with Master Darex for the funeral. My mom's here, somewhere on Kashyyyk, although I don't think she's in Kachirho yet," she added contextually, not sure what else to say to the Cerean.

Watching the retreating footsteps of Jax and Alana, Tirzah inhaled the fresh forest air. It had, at first, reminded her of her childhood hideaway on Endor, except that the trees here were far older and grander. For the space of several moments, she reminisced about her old friend Dika, a young Ewok whose parents had been destroyed in the blast that had claimed most of Endor's surface. He had been a good companion when she had no other, and given the lifelessness of the moon, it had served as an adequate location to hide Tirzah's presence in a time when her aunt had lacked confidence in her own ability to protect the girl. But here, there was an ancient sort of darkness that was not pernicious or hostile, but rather, simply somber. As her senses extended outward in the Force, Tirzah detected a familiar presence. Tilting her chin upward toward her new master, she smiled. "Thank you, Master Darex. I'd like to walk around a bit, if that's all right. I won't leave the landing area, and I'll go find Jax and Alana when I'm done." As she padded down the long wooden platform, her eyes fell on the vaulted cranium of an acquaintance she had seen not long ago on Corellia. "Master Roene?"

Master Kirlocca was dead? She had seen the Wookiee Grandmaster twice before, once on Chandrila and once on Ossus, but the latter was so recent that she had to believe he had gone to his death mere hours after encountering Tirzah and her mother at the Temple on Ossus. Her mother. Had the girl been able to see in more than shades and shadows, Tirzah would have caught the reflection of her own Mustafar-red cheeks. She had neglected to tell her mother where she was going. How would she ever explain all that had happened in the time since Jaina had seen her last? Uh, hi mom, I resurrected a Jedi Grandmaster while you were gone, guess I'm not a total failure as a Jedi. Hey, I forgot to feed the ronto before you left, so I figured I'd come take care of it. Thought you might have needed my help! Look who I found, by the way, the Trevelians were wondering if we could come over for dinner... She ran a hand across her face. "Um, Master Darex? My mom is on Kashyyyk. Do you think... could you maybe..." She trailed off, unsure how to phrase what she was asking for. With a heavy exhale, she sheepishly glanced up at the Master's face. "I'd really love to not be in trouble."

Jaina led the trio along with the cavalcade of Wookiees toward their Walkway encampment, where they would stop for the night before transports arrived to take them to Kachirho the next day. Graanta had already commed ahead, announcing their plans, and reassurances were offered that all proceedings were being prepared, as well as lodgings as the steady stream of Jedi that would be arriving over the next days. Picking her footsteps between groups of Wookiees, Jaina finally settled in at the outskirts of the assembled villagers, displaced from the destruction of their ancient home. Weak from the beating her body had taken, she found herself utterly grateful to sit, propped up against the broad support of a neighboring wroshyr as they gathered and exchanged ration bars. Frond's question, while seemingly impractical for the moment, nevertheless brought a smile to Jaina's face. While she had a hunch that Frond himself was fairly timeless, his questions and curiosities were those of a young child or beginning apprentice, and the earnest simplicity of the question warmed her weary heart. "When the Jedi say they 'use' the Force, this is a misnomer. A Jedi allows the Force to flow through them. We become vessels of the living Force, or agents of its will. We only bend it to our use in order to sustain life, which in and of itself creates the Force. So, in a way, the Jedi become partners with the Force. Not just for one person's idea of good, but in order to multiply and strengthen the power and will of the Force," she said quietly, gazing into the flickering light of the fire that had been built in a large stone basin nearby on the walkway. A pang of wistfulness hit her as she continued speaking, her mind unconsciously reaching for Raynuk and the reassurance of his constant presence, connected intrinsically to her. "There are others," she began slowly, "who believe that the Force has no will, but simply exists, a power available for our use. Or even more who believe that the Force must be used to stop those who tap into the Force to destroy life. But fighting fire with fire only burns forests down, and fighting hatred with hatred only multiplies suffering." Her eyes flicked back up to Frond, hazel-green warmth radiating from within them. "The Force does lead us, and often not in ways we want to go. It's the burden of a Jedi to follow regardless."

A heavily encrypted message went out on all Jedi channels, received across the galaxy by all members of the Order and its allies (including specifically ShadowFett, Aryian Darkfire, Head of State Raven Zinthos of the Remnant, and Chief of State Sabian Devanus of the Galactic Alliance).

Welcoming nothingness enveloped her, and Jaina was cradled in the ever-dark. Somewhere, beyond the place where her body currently dwelled, there were galaxies unexplored, universes untold. It felt familiar and foreign all at once, and even warmed as she was by the comforting emptiness, curiosity got better of the Jedi Knight, who reached into the nothingness, grasping for something she knew was just out of reach. Straining, fingertips outstretched as far as they could go into the black, a sudden twitch as though an insect had drawn microscopically abrasive legs across her cervical spine halted her effort. Pinpoints of light appeared, their disruptive entrance into the void of her surroundings causing her to squint against them as the pressure in her mind increased. Slowly, the pinpoints expanded, the gloomy dim of the forest filtering in once more, and Jaina was able to locate herself in time and space as her pupils contracted to adjust. A glimmer of silver flashed in Jaina’s vision, its bright light in stark contrast to the rest of the Shadowlands. To her half-awake mind and her squinted eyes, it took the exact form of a curved scimitar, the ryyk blade returning to seek its vengeance, and she attempted to roll out of the path of the descending blade. Ribcage screamed in protest, and the Jedi immediately relinquished her efforts, groaning as she fell back to the bed of thick moss that cradled her bruised body. She quickly attempted to cobble together a barrier of sorts, calling on the Force weakly, before she realized what, exactly, she was looking at. “Surprise,” Misal Draygo’s voice split the background chatter of the fauna. The silvery-white tuft of hair at the forefront of the Miraluka’s brow came into focus, and Jaina exhaled heavily as she allowed her muscles to relax, sheepishly dismissing the spike of adrenaline. “That went well,” she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut once more. Without a full medical examination, there was no way to be sure, but a quick assessment of the aches and pains echoing angrily through her body suggested that at least three of her ribs had been crushed in the fall, her left arm seemed to be inoperable, a spasm in her lower back suggested slipped disks at best and broken vertebrae that compressed the spinal cord at worst, her right ankle was throbbing, and her head was pounding, likely a concussion. To have escaped such a swan dive with only such injuries, however, brought the flicker of a smile to her branch-flogged face. Finding the moment of calm that had come to her in the darkness, Jaina exhaled meditatively once more, though careful not to breathe too deeply lest she exacerbate her ribcage, letting the Force dampen the pain that echoed cavernously from her body. The other injuries could wait to be set by a professional, but Misal was correct in her concern, and she would not risk provoking a possible spinal cord injury. A nearly unbearable heat spread across her lower back as she targeted the tendons supporting the bones of her spine, coaxing them to relax their concerned hold. The spike of anguish increased and Jaina could not withhold a sharp cry from escaping her lips, but it was only momentary, as the dislocated vertebrae snapped back into place. Opening her eyes, she grit her teeth together, still barely managing the resultant pain, and used the Force to assist her in sitting up without demanding anything of her disgruntled back. Extending her good hand to Misal weakly, she nodded her exhausted gratitude. “Thank you for your help. What happened to our rather destructive acquaintance?” ----- With help from the trio of Wookiees and the Miraluka, Jaina made it to standing, the only mobility issue an ankle that seemed to be badly sprained. Strung between the two adolescent Wookiees, she hobbled along as best as she could, following her senses to lead them to the tree-like Frond who had assisted them. When they came upon him, he was clutching the broken body of their adversary, and Jaina’s stomach gave a regretful lurch as she laid eyes upon it. Sighing heavily, she greeted him. “Thank you, Frond,” she began. “I had hoped for a different result, though I am grateful he won’t be able to do any more damage here on Kashyyyk.” A snarl erupted from the Wookiee chieftainess. <“This is the one who has destroyed Tree Rwookrrorro? His suffering is deserved.”> Jaina shook her head sadly, gazing at the lifeless Miraluka. “Hatred begets hatred. We can only assume that this man has led a life that forces him to believe that hatred is his only choice. ” The Wookiee snorted, but seemed to absorb her statement nonetheless. Pensively, she paused for a handful of seconds before speaking once more. <“We will bury him here, and let the Shadowlands be nourished by his body, since it was his action that wounded the land.”> A quick examination of his corpse revealed very little, as the man carried no identification, but Jaina collected his comlink and the lightwhip he had wielded against her. She watched as the adolescents built a cairn of sorts over the Miraluka, and then they were off. ----- When they departed for the Great Walkway once more, hoisted up by the elevator connected to the adjacent village, the slow progress of their ascent made Jaina’s mad dash into the canopy all the more psychotic in her own mind. If called on to repeat such a feat, she was not sure she would ever be able to manage: the Force had granted her what she needed for what was required in the moment. If anything, the task had shown her that would always be the case. Her lightsaber, retrieved from Graanta and fastened securely on her belt once more, felt like the comforting presence of a returned friend. As they rose, within reasonable range of the comm relays once more, her comlink began to twitter incessantly, and a sense of foreboding rose in Jaina’s gut. Listening to her messages one after the other, she attempted to piece together what had happened in her absence. The gist of it appeared to be that Onderon had fallen to the Sith, an unexpected fleet that had impeded a CoreSec investigation and repelled the meager answer to Skye’s distress call as Tobias had withdrawn without rendering aid. But she found it highly unlikely that Skye's comm itself would have drawn the Sith; rather, if Faust was indeed present on Onderon, it was not a stretch to believe he had joined forces with his old allies. If Skye, as well as Xae, who had left Raxus Prime to assist, had made it out of the conflict alive, she would collect a report from them. The Remnant and the Sith were at open war, and with the advancements on Nubia and now on Onderon, it seemed that the Galactic Alliance was quickly losing resources and valuable strongholds to the war cry echoing from the Remnant. In short, the galaxy was crumbling, and the Jedi were leaderless, divided, staggering under the weight of a lack of vision that would send them inevitably plummeting toward the dark side as surely as the sabotaged wroshyr had crashed into the Shadowlands. It might have been that the Sith themselves were urging the Jedi toward such disharmony, pulling them apart at the seams, destroying them before they even had opportunity to make a stand. This was troubling, but she had no way of proving it. Unless… The meeting on Chandrila swam before her mind, harkening back to the first time she had presented herself to the service of the Order since her odd resurrection. Their concerns had been about Grandmaster Raikanda, who had vanished from the galaxy since his meeting with the Wookiee Master. But Kirlocca had not been worried about his old friend Dahar; instead, his concerns revolved around Dahar's right-hand man, Tobias Vos. Vos, who had sent Xae and Jaina relic hunting, before they learned that the Cult of Morthos was systematically collecting tomes of Force knowledge throughout the galaxy; who had allegedly been a Sith Lord and now operated within the Jedi Order with little to no oversight. And now Kirlocca was dead, and Vos was on the Council. The Wookiee Master had commissioned her, welcomed her home, and believed in her when she had lost the ability to believe in herself. She owed him a great debt that would never be repaid, not in this life, on this side of the Force. So she would honor him the best way she knew how. She would pour her blood, sweat, and tears into uniting the Jedi, and get to the bottom of the shadow that had fallen over the Order. They would no longer be aggressors, at the whim of power-hungry and squabbling governments. They would become who the Force had ordained them to be: protectors, healers and givers of life, bastions of justice, uncompromising in their stance against the darkness that was within as well as without. Tapping a message into her comm, she exhaled heavily. “Graanta, Kirlocca has fallen. I need a place to assemble the Jedi in his honor.” The aged Wookiee chieftainess inclined her head solemnly. If she was surprised, she gave no indication. <”Tonight we will rest at our neighboring village, where we will tend to our wounded and say our ritual farewell to Tree Rwookrrorro. Our clan will journey tomorrow to the great sky city of Kachirho, in the coastal region. There, we may assemble the honor guard from the gathered tribes and prepare a fitting memorial. The galaxy may join with Kashyyyk as it mourns its greatest servant.”>

Absorbing the Jedi Master's words, for a long time, the young apprentice said nothing. Her life had already been wrapped up in the scars of the dark side: the story that Master Quietus had told her was evidence of that. Her mother had once been counted among the ranks of the dark siders, and had carried those scars with her. Even the kindness and gentility that the Sith Master had shown her confirmed what Master Darex was now saying: Sith and Jedi were unhelpful words, words that did not adequately explain the meanderings of the soul. Some Jedi were cruel, some Sith were kind. The realities of the Force were commanded by intent, by the heart within, as much as they were commanded by the actions without. There was more to the Force than what the Jedi taught, that much was certain. Her curiosity had awoken, her interest had been piqued. "I don't mind helping people," she began at long last, very slowly as though she were choosing her words carefully. "But what about helping people by defending them? What if you have to kill one person to save someone else?" She scuffed the floor of the crew lounge with her foot. "What makes one person's life worth saving over another? Why did you choose to leave Jax and Alana without a dad?" The searching quality of her hazy eyes and the earnest hope in her voice bespoke the truth behind her question: in all things, TIrzah was attempting to make sense of her father's disappearance from her life, and coming up short. A fiery indignation burned just below the surface every time her thoughts turned to him, and she sought comfort in what the Jedi Master might have to share with her.