Dashel Illioni

Dashel looked over the members of his crew gathered in his quarters on Tython. His gaze lingered on the few gathered there before his thoughts drifted to the events that happened in the Palawar system and those they left behind. Master Erath had remained behind as the head of the new Jedi mission to the system, its mandate to develop closer ties between the Force Using communities and remove the last vestiges of Sith influence from the system. Along with Master Erath, newly Knighted Alyssa Green and Padawan Kharjo remained behind as his second in command and as the Master of Younglings, respectively. Dashel smiled at the thought of the two of them in their first real independent assignment. They had earned it. He felt Inaure slip her arm into his and bring his attention back to their guests. Delaney sat at the side of her sister Marta. After Palowar, Erath had passed her to the rank of full-fledged Padawan and assigned her to his wife. Delaney and Inaure were soon to leave on Delaney’s quest to find the things necessary for them to complete the ritual linking. He refuse to call her a Hand and had yet to find a name for what they were going to become. Marta, next to her sister, had begun a new phase of life. She had decided to to become a nanny to his and Inaure’s children. She served alongside a nanny/hunter droid called Vitae. Next to them sat Knight Maevis Luo, now serving as a Jedi healer on Tython. He had been surprised to find out that she and Kala were quietly helping a new Padawan who looked eerily like Kala. When he asked them about it, they simply replied that in time, he would learn everything. Burksed, his wife, and their children had decided to join them from his headquarters on Dac. His series of shops, now present on many of the GA’s worlds, had turned profitable enough to enable to buy ownership in full sized shipyards on Kuat and on Dac. His wife was now the mistress of Younglings at the temple. She had earned the title ‘Lady Sith’ among the older of her charges. Their oldest daughter, sitting next to her mother and quietly talking to Delaney, had begun courses in engineering and instructions in her one Force talent. Like her father, the Force aided her abilities in engineering. Unlike her father, she had Jedi around her to help her hone the talent. She was not strong enough in the Force to become a Jedi but was receiving training none the less. She and Burksed were currently refitting the GrassTiger II, its shuttle known as NameLess. They were all here to celebrate an ending and a beginning. Dashel smiled and rejoined the party in its entirety. He set aside concerns for the moment of the current GrandMaster’s summons and his own research just to celebrate being alive.

I was standing at the door of the landing bay waiting for Aira to arrive. A smile graced my face at seeing her with Apollo, seeing them so amenable, yet still friends. I wondered if I could have been wrong about the feelings the two might have been developing. Then I realized that I might have been meddling in something that should be private between the two and laughed at my own folly. My laughter caught Aira’s attention and I bowed to her and Apollo. “Your sister told me that you are headed to the Jedi temple with Aira,” I said. “So she suggested that your people and the Jedi needed an exchange of ambassadors. Congratulations, Ambassador Apollo. May the Force be with you.” I let Apollo absorb the news for a moment or two before continuing. “Your sister wanted to go home immediately to liberate your people within the Palawan system, but I convinced her to take a small detail to pick up three Jedi to assist in the liberation. Kala and all but Delaney will also be going with the GrassTiger and serve as the beginning of a permanent Jedi mission to your people for the exchange of ideas, information and other sundries.” Turning to Aira, I said, “As for me, I’ll be disembarking once the new Jedi delegation arrives. Its about time for me to check in at Tython with the newly minted Jedi council. Aira, when we met back on Coruscant, I never thought we’d end up fighting together or against such odds. But this has been a pleasure and I look forward to working with you again or maybe to the day when you complete your training and make you a Master.” Composing myself I walked with them to the the boarding ramp to Aira’s ship. I said goodbye to Aira and Apollo before they raised the ramp and then went to the small shuttle captured by Kala and the Tiger’s crew to check on Delaney and our cargo. The repairs made the shuttle ready to go at least as far as Burksed’s repair garage on Tython. In its hold rested the carbonite slab we’d recovered on BlackFists station, a box labeled ‘do not open until on Tython’ and a few other belongings. Delany smiled at me from the shuttle’s cockpit. “Hey Dash,” she said quietly and returned to checking out the shuttle’s systems. There was an edge of sadness to both her voice and her aura in the Force. I understood. For the first time in her life, she was leaving her sister and going on a mission of her own. Separating the two sisters felt weird but I knew it was for both their benefits. “Hey kid,” I said, “You about ready? It won’t be long to the rendezvous.” “I know,” said Delaney, her voice heavy and resigned. I wanted to smile but needed to be serious as I said, “Delaney, you know your Force sensitive right? A little behind in training but you have other skills as useful If you want to start training.” Her aura shifted from sadness to outright shock. “What are you talking about?” “Do you want to be a Jedi?” 17 year old Zeltran women can be very demonstrative when their happy. Delaney’s subsequent hug nearly knocked me over and I would have tripped over some unsecured cargo were it not for Jedi reflexes. “Yes,” she said, “when do I start?” “You already have, but I’ll make things formal when you return from your mission for that ritual you requested.” “As you say,” she said, hesitating a moment before she added, ”Master.” “Oh no, not me. That would be a conflict of interest and not in both our interests.” She eyed me suspiciously and warily. “Why can’t I be your apprentice?” A mischievous smile crossed my face. “I want you trained by the best, by a Master I trust to train apprentices who can give you his full and undivided attention. He goes by the name of Erath.” “The Barabel?” she asked with just a little fear in her voice. “Yes , he should be an excellent match for you.” She shuddered a moment, then quietly considered the idea. I wondered at the whiplash change and felt a bit of pride at her thoughtfulness. “It just might work,” was her reply. I turned and left the shuttle to go bring a few more supplies aboard the shuttle. The crew of the Refuge had shown gratitude for our help, a gratitude I did not make heavy demands of. Besides, the Jedi had promised to provide more than enough to replenish the small amount we took aboard the shuttle. It wasn’t long before we reached the rendezvous point and we stood to greet the new Jedi mission to the Palawanese. The captain, Delaney, and I stood patiently while the boarding ramp lowered. To my surprise, my wife, her abdomen no longer swollen, ran down the ramp ahead of Master Erath and now Master Luo. Close behind them came an unfamiliar droid pushing a stroller with two very young infants on board. Before I could say a word to ask about them, I found myself being hugged by my wife no less fiercely than Delaney had so few hours ago. Only this time I was ready and definitely returned the hug and kissed her passionately for a good measure. I’d missed her, missed the birth of our children yet took comfort in both of us accepting it as our fate as servants of the Force. We separated when a rumbling voice interrupted us. “Shouldn’t you two leave space for the Force?” asked Master Erath. We both turned, smiled, and simultaneously shook our heads no and then pointedly ignored him for a few seconds more just to annoy the cantankerous old Jedi. He knew exactly what we were up to and continued speaking. “So, your wife and children our here, go be with them before we leave. I’ll want to talk to you about this new apprentice of mine before we leave. I understand she’s not even had a hopefull’s training and has been living without adult supervision.” Everyone present but the Captain and Delaney laughed. Master Erath’s sense of humor was well known if you had been around him long enough. He and the Captain quickly excused themselves headed for her ready room to discuss the new treaty while I became acquainted with my wife and my newborn twins. Later that day, I found myself changing the younger twin when Master Erath came into the room. My wife took the older and left the room to begin launch prep. “I am going to Palawar with my new apprentice Dash,” he said without preamble. “You’ve given me quite the bag of knots to unravel, but I think she’s worth the trouble like you were all those years ago. There is one thing, what is the ‘hand’ thing you promised her.” I explained it to him in minute detail while a thoughtful smile crossed his face. “You are going to delay the ritual until she’s a knight,” he said. I tilted my head at him in curiosity. “That bond should be attempted between two people fully conversant with the Force and with both parties as Jedi. Besides, your going to want me to push her hard and she doesn’t need you distracting her.” “As you say Erath.” “That, and while training she had a vision of finding supplies for that ritual on PalawaR III.” Neither her vision or that Master Erath had already started her training surprised me. All too soon, we all parted, the Refuge, GrassTiger [/i] and its Jedi contingent headed for the Palawar system while we began the long trek to the temple on Tython.

From my first leap to the last slash of my lightsaber, the battle of the landing bay passed as a series of half felt images and targets. The Force was with me, my guide and ally, and allowed me to flow through the battle. The crew of the Refuge followed behind me, driving into the invaders, first stopping them and then forcing them to withdraw towards their landing craft where they stood against us one final time. Despite support fire from the crews of the landing craft, we managed to board them and hunt their crew down one by one. Most chose not to surrender and I felt every death, friendly and enemy, as we ended this threat to the ship. I felt diminished by every loss, sadness mingling with the joy of success. Anger at the pain and suffering caused by unmitigated greed and hatred added additional color and mingled with the others. My training kept me centered, yet my emotions swirled outside the core of calm that was the Force flowing through me. It seemed in my new awareness of the Force that started at the Coruscant Memorial, that when a battle occurred in the real world, it was mirrored in my sense of the Force. When the final call came in that the bay was secure, I felt relief at being alive and the relief of those around me. Captain Shiani called seconds after the last call and congratulated us on stopping Black Fist inside the landing bay. She then reminded us that smaller teams had indeed penetrated into the ship and that some of the crew needed reinforcements. She began dispatching all but those few guarding the fewer than half dozen surviving pirates captured to various parts of the ship. The Force told me where I needed to before she even requested that Aira and I bring reinforcements to the bridge. From the background of her call, I heard the sound of blasterfire. Shouts told me that they needed help now. I called to a half dozen crew within easy reach and moved out towards the bridge. We soon met small squads of invaders at various intersections, who slowed us down but could not stop our march towards the bridge. One of those small groups wounded me, a searing, burning wound to my upper left arm that occurred when we were ambushed from a side passage and I was busy with another group in front of me. A quick pause allowed me to heal the wound enough that it could not impede the movement of my arm. One of the crewman detailed as a medic told me that it would need further attention after the battle. First, though, we needed to relieve those defending the bridge. One of the crewman with me stopped us briefly at a panel in the wall and quickly brought a schematic of the ship onto the monitor there. A series of rapid finger jabs and swipes quickly determine the quickest path to the bridge and internal sensors showed us where ambushes awaited us. After that, the small groups became more like nuisances to be swatted than the threats they formerly were and we soon sighted the where the defenders and attackers traded fire just before the final doors that led to the bridge. I motioned for my remaining companions to take cover. A feeling, a hunch from the Force told me we needed to pause so that a piece of this puzzle might fall into place. Confused, I joined them and turned towards the ranking member and motioned for her to have her troops hold fire. Closing my eyes, I focused deeply on the currents in the Force and turned towards a grate that in my memory led to a maintenance tunnel. The young woman leading the other crew members look towards me and opened her mouth to speak. Probably wanted to ask why we weren’t attacking. She never got to start as the gate swung open with a clang and a familiar face popped out of the maintenance tunnel it formerly covered. “Miss me boss?” ask Delaney, who stopped speaking, stopped moving when a dozen blasters pointed towards her. “She’s with me,” I said to calm the situation before she became a casualty. I narrowed my eyes at her and offered her my hand. She bore a few small wounds and one a large burn, probably from a near miss of baster bolt. By some grace of the Force, the mercs firing on the bridge defenders failed to notice us. Once out of the small tube, she turned and reached back in and dragged out a belt fed, crew served grenade launcher and her rifle. Behind the launcher came a second crewman who turned out to be the gunner for the weapon. A glance towards the young woman and I knew what her suddenly grim smile meant. The grenade launcher was quickly set up and aimed at the middle of the group attacking the bridge. I lifted my bracer and opened a channel to the bridge. “Captain,” I whispered, “On my mark, have your people grab whatever cover they can.” “Roger that,” she said back just as quietly. I turned towards the leader of the relief force who flashed me a thumbs up and tapped the should of the launchers gunner. “Mark” I shouted as the launcher chuffed and the roar of a dozen or more blasters announced our presence to those attacking the bridge. The battle ended before the launcher even needed reloading when the last attacker felled, blasted from a grenade and a dozen rifles at once. We advanced cautiously until our two groups met. Wounds decorated everyone, but we all shared the small smiles of those alive to celebrate the end of a battle. I found myself bone tired despite the Force flowing through me, I knew those without the Force must be feeling the fatigue of battle even worse than I did. The Captain motioned for Delaney and I to join her on the bridge. We followed her there and into her ready room where she motioned for us to take a seat across from her desk. “I have asked Knight Aira to join us here. I’d like to ask the two of you a few questions before you depart. First, though, there’s somone whom wants to speak with you.” She turned a screen towards me. I saw Kala’s face there, wearing the broad grin she always affected after a successful battle. “Hey Dash,” she said, “we are finishing the mop up of the pirates out here. Managed to grab a small shuttle that tucks nicely into are landing bay. Needs some work and some cleaning but I am sure Burksed is up to the work.” I simply shook my head at her, not surprised by her initiative after all these years. Still, sometimes I wished she were a normal HRD. “Good job,” was all I could say in the end. “How’s my sister?” came from somewhere one the bridge. “She’s sitting next to Dash and unlike him seems to be unwounded,” shouted Kala, “now get back on that sensor system and make sure there’s none of those trapped fighters out there. See you later Dash. Out.” The screen went blank just as a crewman delivered hot caf to the captain who motioned for us to help ourselves. “Now comes the hard part. Cleaning up and going home.” I felt the wave of emotion that came off of her from that simple statement. A second later the Force equivalent went through my senses. I looked over to see that Delaney felt the same thing. I would need to find her a Master or undertake her training on my own. I closed my eyes and sent calm through the Force to the captain who smiled over at me. “Thanks for that,” she said. “Now, if you excuse me there’s something I need to announce to my crew.” Delaney and I watched her toggle a couple of switches on the surface of her desk and with tears streaming down her face announce, “Attention everyone, now hear this. Jedi Knight Aira Cadan, Jedi Master Dashel Illioni, and our own Apollo have brought and successfully distributed the cure we looked so long for. People, we are going home.” She smiled at us, tears streaming down her face and dripping on the surface of her desk.

A quiet alarm hooted through Victim’s Refuge, heralding the arrival of BlackFist. A quick computer query showed only 10 percent of the crew having received the airborne cure, but that seemed enough. Instead of the pre-battle emotions commonly felt on warships, this one radiated hope, strength and determination through her entirety. I briefly smiled with pleasure as I realized that after this battle these people would own their freedom and the right to go home. The Force took quickly over until the physical world, its cares and worries faded into the background of my mind and I rose to my feet, with the knowledge of where I would be needed first. I quietly left the bridge and went to the hangar bay where the pirates would be landing. There I found a small, sealed observation post to watch for the first Black Fist landers to breach the ship. Before they did so a price needed to be paid in blood, and that price the Victim’s Haven collected with all the will and determination of her crew. From a convenient monitor I watched the initial rounds of the battle, with the first ranging salvos from then enemy ships lancing towards us and either missing or being stopped by our shields. Shiani didn’t return fire. Even as fewer salvos from the enemy ships went astray she waited. The shields flared with the impact of fire from the two heavy cruisers and the eight frigates BlackFist used to screen two medium freighters probably converted to serve as landing craft. Even as their light freighters and fighters formed up to make their runs with missiles and bombs, the turbolasers and cannons of the ship remained silent. I wondered why, but I sensed, through the Force, the crew understood. These people had bonded during their struggles, becoming more than a group of refugees and becoming a family and then some. Had I not been submerged in the Force, had I not had a moment of refuge, than I would have missed it. These people were Force sensitive. Like the Miraluka, they had a subconscious link to the Force, binding them close. Theirs, though, went deeper. In times of stress, these people linked to each other, surrendering their individuality and becoming a single organism reacting as one and with equal knowledge of all its parts. It made me feel sad for Apollo and I made a note to tell Aira. The man, despite not having any connection to the Force, risked his life to save a people that even when among them must have made him feel as the worst kind of outcast. It made them very formidable and explained why the Sith chose to turn them into soldiers. Commands and information might simply have been sensed instead of the delays necessitated by physical communication. A longing went up in my mind to find out how more about this worked, how detailed the information presented might be, and why this link developed. Before I could begin thinking about the problem too much, my Jedi discipline submerged the question deep into my subconscious and I found out why Shiani held her fire. The first wave of fighters and light freighters beginning their attack runs ran into the first layer of defenses created by the Captain. Mines, floating undetected in the darkness of space activated when the small ships passed them. Pinpricks of light flared for a second before their nature revealed itself. Many of the small ships crumbled, smashed by the sudden presence of massive amounts of gravity released by the gravitic mine fields we passed through thanks to Apollo. I the crews of those ships dying, their fear and terror bringing sorrow to my heart despite their crimes. I stood there, watching as the majority of that first wave of BlackFist’s small ships died forcing a path through those minefields. Those that did make it began their attack runs only to be quickly obliterated as an absolutely stunning amount of anti-aircraft fire poured from the defensive batteries of the ship. Still, though, Shiani held the big turbo lasers silent I knew her ship possessed. Another monitor displayed the ship’s power supply and to my surprise showed that all three of the ship’s reactor systems were operational, proving a massive surplus of power for the weapon systems and shields. A thrum beneath my feet indicated a massive power build up somewhere in the ship. The Victim’s refuge slowly reoriented herself, firing her thruster’s to present her bow to the gaps in the minefields created by BlackFist’s first wave of fighters. Their second wave of fighters formed up next to the cruisers and frigate’s and began advancing towards us, shielding their troop carriers and pouring fire towards us as they closed, trying to bring down our shields which held despite the onslaught of enemy weaponry. Their weapon fire strangely diminished in strength while their drives flared with diverted power, pushing their ships forward at what looked to be a reckless pace. A quick glance downward at a small infographic on the same monitor told me that twenty percent of the crew now had the cure. Yes, Shiani’s tactics were buying time, but the dispersal of the cure did not necessitate this level of patience. The thrumming beneath my feet turned out to be the prelude of what forced the pirates to try and close and what Shaini waited for. A flair of light from the ship’s bow stabbed into the darkness of, sweeping the enemies formations and leaving the capital ship’s as ruined hulks and leaving no trace of the enemy’s fighter’s behind. My bracer’s commlink beeped urgently and I flipped the cover to see a Kala on the bridge of the GrassTiger. “Dash,” she said quietly in fear filled voice, “that ship has a Dark Saber.” “Yeah,” I said just as quietly, “and the pirates out there just found out the hard way but there’s enough left to cause trouble. Those two transports survived and it looks like some of the frigates did too. I am betting that charging their Darksaber might take longer than it will take those ships to close the distance and begin boarding.” “Their captain just ordered us and their fighter’s to launch Dash. May the Force be with you,” she said and signed off. I watched the monitors as our fighter squadrons began launching and the ship turned to present its broadside toward the remainder of the enemy fleet and began firing the anti-ship batteries formerly held silent. The screen soon filled with lances of light between the two sides from the big weapons and smaller ones as the last fighter’s available to BlackFist met ours. The two big transports, screened by the remaining capital ships flared their drives, reinforced their shields and ran straight towards the docking bay my tiny refuge overlooked. A few landing craft launched late by the capital ships followed in their wake, screened by the larger transports but vulnerable to fighters that began intercepting them. I admired BlackFist’s determination to take this ship and realized that our destruction of their base over Corellia probably contributed to it. Had they had those additional resources, this battle might have ended already with these people captured and forced to work as a very dangerous slave army, Instead, we stood a chance. It felt good to fight to alongside people fighting for their freedom despite the carnage that headed our way. My finger’s found a comm switch moments before the first transport slammed through the door of the docking bay. “Aira, Delaney BlackFist will soon be aboard this ship. If they have any sense, they’ll occupy us here in the docking bay while infiltrating smaller teams that will head for strategic areas of the ship. That makes you and yours a prime target in the air circulation area and bridge. May the Force be with you, Dash out.” Closing the ship circuit, I felt the crash from the first transport as it slammed into the ship’s deck and began dispersing its troopers onto the deck. One last glance told me that that cure had now reached thirty percent of the crew. The thought that the BlackFist soldiers now trying to take the ship faced people who now had hope brought a very sinister smile to my face. Apollo's people now held home field advantage and the a reason for living. Stepping from the small booth, I activated my lightsabers and leapt into the middle of the enemy troops, joining the main battle for the ship.

Captain Walker whistled softly when she stepped out of the lift and onto the Victim’s Haven. I almost asked her why until I stepped up beside her and took a look at the ship’s bridge. The bridge of the Victim’s Haven turned out to be as incredible as its exterior. It started with layout that showed an appreciation for the logisitics of command and crew morale. The hemispherical layout enabled the commander to see every station from his command station and a view out of the bridge portals. Everyone enjoyed a comfortable amount of space without the bridge taking up valuable real estate better utilized elsewhere. Delaney stepped passed us and quickly occupied an empty station whose viewscreen turned on almost before she was completely seated. Unfortunately for her, the station showed little inclination to allow her to access anything. I smiled as I explained, “Delaney enjoys computer and information systems. I am sure given time she could gain access to your systems but perhaps you can make it easy for her?” “I thought she would be fighting. Why would she need access, especially as she’s not familiar with the ship?” My smile widened until my slightly elongated canines became visible. Genetic throwbacks, they turned my smile into something predatory. “She’ll fight if the bridge is breached, but have you ever seen what a good slicer can do during a battle?” Shiani smiled back. “I have.” She pointed to a bank of screens over which six technicians hovered. “She should probably go with them instead. If she’s useful they’ll find a place for her.” Delaney nodded and joined the six techs. They started quietly talking and Delaney’s Force signature went from cautious to joyful within a couple of seconds. It seemed she’d found kindred souls. “So,” Shiani continued, “you want the tour?” “We may not have time, where would you like me?” I felt her shock through the Force. Perhaps she was used to Jedi who immediately took command as if they belonged there. She recovered quickly and led Captain Walker and myself to the station recently vacated by Delany. She touched the screen and quickly authorized us a fairly deep level of access. A second command brought up the ship’s defensive assets. Captain Walker immediately pointed to a group of Marines that appeared to leaderless. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go there. You use them to plug any holes in the ship’s interior defenses, correct?” Shiani nodded. “I’ll let Aira know where I’ll be,” said Captain Walker, “Maybe she’ll join me,” She stood and began walking off the bridge. She turned back after a couple of steps just as Shiani handled her a pad. “Directions are on the pad along with the ship’s layout. Captain Walker had the grace to look abashed before turning about and walking off the bridge. “Now,” said Shiani, “I have a place for you Master Dashel, if you’ll take it.” I gazed at her and silently waited for her to continue. “This ship’s defense will hold off a small fleet of ships, but if this BlackFist brings enough ship’s, they will board. I am hoping you, Jed Aira, and some of my best troops will take the front lines against anyone who manages to board.” “You’re hoping the sight of a pair of Jedi fighting alongside your people will completely demoralize the enemy?” I asked. She smiled in a very good proxy of my more predatory grin. “Do you mind if I gather some information before joining your troops?” “There is no ingnorance, there is knowledge?” she asked. “Yes,” I said, “and I seem to be developing this odd ability to remember weird bits of information that seems to be coming in handy.” She smiled at me. “When this is over, you need to talk to one of our Masters. One of our teachings centers around gathering, assimilating and recalling information.” Pointing at the screen she said, “You can access everything you might need from here.” I sat down and began sifting through the information that my queries culled from their databank.

<>posted this part in the thread for Tython, also. Takes place before the jump to lightspeed<> The presence of Dahar Raikanda filled his mind twice, once from the Force itself, and once from a link between the holocron embedded in Kala’s abdomen and the holocron at the Temple of Jedi at Tython. A second presence was temporarily present but merged with something else. "Jedi... friends of the Light... I am Dahar Raikanda, Grandmaster of the Jedi Order... I speak to you as a humble servant of the Light... We keep what we have only with vigilance, and just as freedom for the individual comes from the Force, so freedom for the Order springs from our traditions... As long as the ties that bind us together are stronger than those that would tear us apart, all will be well... The time has come to return home..." Dashel felt his consciousness stripped from where he sat on the GrassTiger II and transported to the Jedi Temple on Tython. Amazement flooded his thoughts when he realized he felt the coolness of the floor, smelled the living atmosphere of Tython, and looked Dahar Raikanda directly in the airs. The Force kept finding ways to expand his horizons as to what was possible. He wondered how he appeared to those seeing him. He paced a slow circle around Dahar, examining him from head to toe, both physically and through the Force. A fascinating process really, as he was projecting himself and managed to use the Force at a location far removed from his physical one simultaneously because of the link through the holocrons. “I can’t wait to explain this to Kala,” he thought while stopping in front of Dahar. A sense of surprise sounded from somewhere nearby, faint but powerful in the Force. He felt he should know the presence but he set that concern aside for a moent. “Hi Dahar,” said Dashel, “Interesting technique you use to allow me to talk to you. I never considered that the holocrons might somehow be linked to each other. I wonder if that’s true of all Holocrons. But that’s not why your calling this little meeting is it?” He looked at the other Jedi present before turning back to Dahar. “And you have a fairly decent following of Jedi present. Impressive,” said Dashel, “You can add me to that number. You’ll need to ask Aira Caidan yourself, though I sense she will soon be aiding the Imperial Remnant soon.” Looking around the room, Dashel realized he found himself missing this temple, this planet so steeped in the light and filled with its history. He felt sure he would be going there, settling there with his wife, his children and the other Jedi guarding her. “We are currently heading out to rescue a sleeper ship of Force Users so we’re not going to be present at your gathering.” He smiled at the young man whose path he’d crossed more than few times despite the news he felt he needed to deliver. A sudden and massive need to return to his body let him know his time here grew short. “I accept you as the leader of the Jedi and Grandmaster to those outside of the order. But understand as you watch us, so must you be watched and there is darkness within you.” The tug became a pull that swept him from his feet and back towards his body, taking his senses from Tython and returning them to his cockpit. He turned to Kala and found her glowing inside out with the waning power of the holocron within her. The warm red glow faded until her body became its normal opaque self. She turned to look at him, stunned. “What was that?” Dash turned back towards the main screen. “Dahar Rakanda just declared himself as the GrandMaster of the Jedi Order.” “Who?” she said even as tightened her grip on the handle for the hyperdrive. “Exactly,” said Dashel with a tight smile on his face that his eyes did not reflect. <>And this part after the jump to lightspeed.<> A moment later, Aira gave the command and the small convoy went to lightspeed. They emerged in a tight formation inside the gravity well of the blue star and immediately their instrumentation was overwhelmed. They followed the Scratch into high orbit before their instruments detected the Haven. Silence filled the cockpit as their instrumentation revealed the size and immensity of the ship. “Wow,” said Delaney from the door of the cockpit. “That’s bigger than some of the old Imperial designs.” “Fairly heavily armed too,” said Dashel while pointing to one of the ship’s screens. “They built her too take on a small fleet, I hope their friendly.” A moment later Aira’s voice sounded over the comm system with her instructions. I turned to my crew and looked over them. “Kala, can you interface with that ship?” “In the same manner as the Tiger? Not hardly.” “That would have been handy. Alright, you and Marta stay with the Tiger. Delaney your with me.” He felt Marta start to object to her younger sister going onboard. He raised his hand to stop her objection before explaining, “She wants me to perform a bonding rite with her after this. I need to know she can handle herself in stressful situations.” He felt a great deal of surprise when none of the women present had any further objection and readied himself for departure as soon as the landing ramp lowered itself to the hangar’s deck. The two of them walked down the ramp together, Delaney armed and armored with Dashel dressed in his combat robes, carrying his blaster, and his spare lightsabers. Looking around at those gathering near their ships, he felt the hope emanating from all of them. Opening himself to the Force, he felt the strength of the lightside in the area, fed by their hope and their happiness. Sadness drifted over his heart as he considered the need to tell these people that the remnants of BlackFist might soon arrive. Walking slowly, he went over to stand next to Aira and spoke quietly in her ear. Something he felt onboard the station had grown while they were separated and it needed addressed before the battle. “Your feelings for Apollo do you credit, but we have a battle ahead. Push them deep inside you lest they betray you or you falter when you are needed the most.” Considering whatI knew of Apollo’s people, I quickly amended that, “We’re among a group of Force Sensitives. If both of your feelings are particularly strong, you may end up answering some embarrassing questions from any family on board.”

<>This takes place on Tython despite Dashel physcially still being on his ship in the Corellian system.<> Dashel felt his consciousness stripped from where he sat on the GrassTiger II and transported to the Jedi Temple on Tython. Amazement flooded his thoughts when he realized he felt the coolness of the floor, smelled the living atmosphere of Tython, and looked Dahar Raikanda directly in the eyes. The Force kept finding ways to expand his horizons as to what was possible. He wondered how he appeared to those seeing him. He felt he should know the presence but he set that concern aside for a moment. “Hi Dahar,” said Dashel, “Interesting technique you used to allow me to talk to you. I never considered that the holocrons might somehow be linked to each other. I wonder if that’s true of all Holocrons. But that’s not why your calling this little meeting is it?” He looked at the other Jedi present before turning back to Dahar. “And you have a fairly decent following of Jedi present. Impressive,” said Dashel, “You can add me to that number. You’ll need to ask Aira Caidan yourself, though I sense she forsee her negotiating with the Imperial Remnant soon.” Looking around the room, Dashel realized he found himself missing this temple, this planet so steeped in the light and filled with its history. He felt sure he would be going there, settling there with his wife, his children and the other Jedi guarding her. “We are currently heading out to rescue a sleeper ship of Force Users so we’re not going to be present at your gathering.” He smiled at the young man whose path he’d crossed more than few times despite the news he felt he needed to deliver. A sudden and massive need to return to his body let him know his time here grew short. “I accept you as the leader of the Jedi and Grandmaster to those outside of the order. But understand as you watch us, so must you be watched and there is darkness within you.” The tug became a pull that swept him from his feet and back towards his body, taking his senses from Tython and returning them to his cockpit.

I was meditating in my chambers after the last of the preparations for our journey to rescue Apollo’s people were completed, when a presence made itself known in the Force. The presence fairly blazed with the lightside of the Force, but in a way different from the many Jedi I had come across in my career. In fact, the Force signature was unique, a once and a lifetime individual more relegated to whispered legends and fairytales than current news. Somehow this individual always managed to end up in the news despite his own best efforts. He was a Wookie, an intelligent and gentle soul residing in the body of warrior, clad in coarse fur and the ever present Force. Wookies almost never became Jedi even when Force sensitive. In fact, it seemed the Galaxy had a rule that only one Wookie Jedi existed at one time and this one proved himself exceptional again and again. Letting myself flow far deeper into the Force, I reached through the ether to gently touch the mind of the great Jedi circling somewhere in the Corellian system but failed to make contact, whether from a lack of practice or that great mind being closed to me. Coundn’t decide which one. Part of me wanted to change course immediately, fly blind through the system till I found the great Jedi and see if there were more Jedi out there, if somehow the order might revive from the ashes of old like the great firebird of the Rebellion. I looked hesitantly at the controls for the comm system only to reject the idea out of hand. An open broadcast with the current bounty on Force Users seemed an unnecessary risk. I pondered the dilemma for a moment before contacting Delaney and having her come to the GrassTiger II’s communications suite. She arrived moments later with a puzzled look on her face. “Dash, I thought we were going to have some free time to prepare before we made the jump to where Apollo’s people’s ship is currently residing?” asked Delaney. “We were, but I thought I would give you a couple of missions for you to complete. I need the first finished now and one for you and the other after we finish with BlackFist.” She looked at me with narrowed eyes and I could sense the turmoil roiling through her. My mission for Padawans and friends alike had always proved interesting over the years. There never seemed to be a dull moment despite the oft repeated warning to Jedi to never seek out adventure. We really didn’t need to, the adventure found us with its entire spectrum of emotions to experience while trying to balance them against the way of the Jedi. A small smile crossed my face as I briefly contemplated that thought. “So what are they?” said Delany, breaking me from musings. I replied with all seriousness. First, I need you to slice into the holonet and send a message to Jedi Master Kirlocca in the most round about way possible. Make it short, basically a greeting Jedi to Jedi and little else. Just enough to let him know he is not alone out there.” “Oh, that should be easy enough if you give an additional fifteen minute window before we leave.” “Done. Your second mission will involve you and your Sister.” I held up a datapad in my hand. “On this pad items needed for your ritual.” Her eyes widened perceptibly and her aura in the Force blazed for a moment in a way that left me stunned. Delaney had the Force and didn’t know it. And I had somehow missed it. At the same time, I understood exactly what she would become to me when the ritual was complete. A ‘hand’, but instead of the kind created by a Sith, one created between Jedi with the ability to hear their partners voice halfway across the galaxy. The limitation being that both parties needed to agree to communicate and that both parties retained their freedom of choice to keep the link or let it dissolve. “You’re serious?” she asked. I smiled at her and handed her the pad in way of my answer. She nearly bolted out the door to begin her preparations. Sighing for my meditations end, I left my quarters and walked the very short distance to the bridge and took the co-pilot’s seat. Kala turned to me and said, “We ready?” “No, signal Aira we need 15 minutes to complete our preparations. Set a timer and when it reaches zero engage the hyperdrive to the provided coordinates. She looked over at me, her face a mask of confusion. “We are giving Delaney time to send a message to Kirlocca. I couldn’t reach his mind via the Force and I won’t risk a direct contact.” “Roger that,” she said before turning back to her console to send a message to Aira. When she was finished talking to Aira, she turned back towards me. “Hey Dash, why the skeleton crew? I know the four of us are a pretty solid team, but you might have been able to recruit some help from the Wookies, the system or something?” I smiled over at her, leaned back, and said, “We going to have a ship full of re-inforcements. They’re going to get pretty motivated by both the cure and the mercs breathing down our necks.” “So long as get to keep ours.” We laughed at that one, fighting against the tension beginning to build in the Tiger’s cockpit. 15 minutes later Delaney’s face appeared on a side monitor. “Hey Dash, about trying to send a message to Master Kirlocca, it’s not possible without a great deal more time. A lot of red flags in the holonet for anyone trying to contact any Jedi or Sith. Someone’s set a hell of an entrapment net.” “I expected that. Bounty Hunter’s, Hutt’s, everyone in the galaxy looking to cash in on the Jedi bounty. They were bound to figure out that we would try to communicate with each other in any way possible.” I turned to Kala. “Let Aira knew we proceed to her coordinates on her mark.”

OOC: Forgive me for this post but I felt I needed to get something up. Everything else just wasn't working. During the War Period, the heavy guns of the GrassTiger thundered often in battle after battle. Their unique vibration made itself known through the souls of his feet to the roots of his heart. He found that where they’d once brought a measure of satisfaction, they now brought a feeling of immense sadness. A sadness that wrapped itself around the core of his being as his ship fled the confines of the hangar, spitting fire back at the mercenaries trying to bring down his ship or the Scratch. Kala kept them just of the Scratch’s starboard quarter as they fled the rapidly disintegrating station. Dashel, after checking with Kala concerning their escape, escorted the Wookies back to the ship’s MedBay to have them checked out. He’d forgotten about their passengers. The roaring assault on his hearing that resulted from the Wookies greeting each other immediately reminded him. The following rapid fire exchange left him nearly deaf and a need to take a refresher course in basic Shyriiwook. He waited for his ears to stop ringing and the Wookies to settle down. They settled when the artificial gravity whined with the strain of their acceleration from the station Something deep within his ships popped and sizzled heralding the need for a damage assessment when they found someplace safe to do so. One of the rescued Wookies turned to him and said . Dash loved happed endings even when he had difficulty translating someone’s language. He left the Wookies in the MedBay figuring their medical exams could wait until the mini-reunion finished. Meanwhile he needed to secure their other passenger in the cargo bay. A few steps and a few minutes later he finished his task and went to the bridge of his ship. Kala looked over at him as he sat in the co-pilot’s seat before turning back to piloting the ship. “See we picked up some new passengers. We’re going to need a bigger ship or a place to put them all.” Dash replied with a glint of humor in his words, "I think our Wookie friends will go with the Marines to eventually return to Kashyyk. It’s our other guest that concerns me, the one frozen in carbonite.” “Really, why?” asked Kala. “Just a feeling. But I think’s that’s something for later. Let me contact Aira and see what our next move is.” He turned to the comm system and hailed the Scratch. “Hey Aira, what’s next?”

Watching Aria while we made our retreat reminded me just how dangerous Jedi became when armed with a little knowledge. The corners of my mouth kept trying to curl at Aria’s expertise in causing havoc, but suppressed most of the urge. The remainder I quietly shared with our group through Aria’s link. As we withdrew towards the landing bay amidst red lighting and blaring alarms, I allowed a small distance to open up between them and myself. I intended to be subtle about it, to quietly drift away and cause some havoc of my own. I needed some practice, as I found the Wookie captain beside me and offering to help. My bracer mounted comma system buzzed quietly before I could refuse. Finding a mall alcove, I ducked inside and opened the cover. Kala face filled the small screen. “Hey boss,” she said, “I am assuming the station’s main and secondary generator going offline were your doing. It must have served as a signal to someone on the surface, cause you got incoming from planetary batteries. And our sensors indicate several planetary ion cannons and turbolasers coming up.” “And without the main reactor or the secondary the shielding’s going to fail fast,” I finished. “How long?” “Less than five or six minutes unless that main goes first. Better get a move on.” “Tell Aira. I got work to do. Out.” Her image began to fade and I closed the gauntlet’s cover. “Okay Captain, we need to hurry. I’ve got two targets of opportunity that will make station recovery far more difficult.” When I told him the targets, the Captain nodded and took off towards a series of conduits I knew went towards the reactor, growling as he went. I sprinted towards a bank of breakers we passed on the way in. The smallest held a warning sign indicating the kind of current flowing through the circuits. I didn’t want to get close and didn’t have to. Opening my pouch, I levitated a dozen or so spheres of microexplosives toward the bank. A slightly harder push insured they stuck. Turning, I sprinted back the way I’d come, turned and began pursuing Aira. A single press of a button on my bracer detonated the explosives. Everything flashed a very harsh white and black. Apparently, the breakers must have retained some charge. As I pursued Aira’s group who was moving very rapidly, I looked over and realized I was about to pass the Wookie captain who held a Mandalorian designed heavy blaster rifle in a very unusual configuration. He tossed me a second one when I skidded next to him. We faced a series of pipes marked ‘Reactor’. He fired from a launcher underneath the rifle at the pipes. A flash of liquid light and energy left the tube and exploded against the pipes. The resulting explosion felt massive and I found myself blinking spots from my eyes as we began sprinting to catch up with Aira. A series of secondary explosions echoed from behind us, headed in the direction of the reactor. My companion rumbled an appreciation of the weapon we both held. When he got to part about the micro proton torpedo I doubled my efforts. On their own, individual micro proton might not hurt a reactor this size, but one already unstable from all of our handiwork? Ouch. About halfway to catching up with Aira, I suddenly had to dodge the massive, furry arm of a very enraged Wookie. Looking at the door that had caught his ire, I reached out with the Force and encountered Wookie minds. Igniting my lightsaber, I plunged the blade into the door lock and shoved against the door with the Force. The door obediently recessed into the wall and stayed there. We faced a large room configured as a pair of holding pens. In one pen stood four Silverback Wookies that the Captain freed by blasting one of the pen’s doors. Very aware of time rapidly passing, I gave my rifle to the Captain to distribute to the Wookies. I looked at the second pen as the Captain began shouting directions at the former captives. BlackFist must have been keeping them for their pelts. My lightsaber made short work of the lock and I saw an oversized slab of carbonite supported by heavy duty repulsors. The face of a humanoid barely cracked the surface and made species identification impossible. It was fairly easy to maneuver the carbonite to the hallway. A grin spread across my face as I found a way to catch up with all parts of our group. Something I needed to do immediately as the Force warned me of a large group of BlackFist soldiers converging between us and the hanger. I jumped on the top of the slab. Trying to ignore the sentient beneath my feet, I pushed heavily with the Force and surfed towards the running Wookies. My comm toned. A quick glance showed Kala’s concerned face. “Whatever you did, that reactors going to blow. Blackfist’s fleeing the station like the rat’s they are.” “Except for the ones between us and the hangar. Get the ‘Tiger’ down to the same bay as the ‘Scratch’.” “On the way,” she shouted even as I caught up with the Wookies. I heard the repulsors whine and the slab dipped when all 5 Wookies jumped on board. The five large bodies crowded together and made our transportation seem very small and crowded. The repulsors recovered and after a couple of massive Force pushes we began closing the distance between us and Aira. Three of the Wookies reached out their hands to Aira and her group. If Aria and her party accepted the lift, if we avoided the needed to make a sudden turn and if we hit the Black Fist lines fast enough, we might just be under the safety of the weapons onboard the ‘Scratch’ and the ‘Tiger’.

Watching Captain Walker, I took a moment to examine my own expertise in sabotage and quickly realized that I knew how to do damage on a small scale. Her damage would be a whole magnitude or two greater than anything I had ever created during my days as a Ranger. On the other hand, I was a Jedi Master, one with considerable knowledge of the Force and the same as an Ally. Looking over at Aira, I grinned, closed my eyes, and began filling myself with the Force. Soon, the sweet intoxicant of the Light flowed through my body, expanding my awareness throughout the room. Details invisible to the naked eye soon became known to me. Time slowed to a crawl as my mind expanded in an attempt to organize and coalesce the data being shown to me. A picture formed of strengths and weaknesses within the walls of the room and soon became a map of damage that could be inflected for even greater effect than the Captain’s explosives. I found that interesting, since it seemed that my mind might be synthesizing the data according to my limited knowledge of starship construction, a discipline that had been dormant almost as long as my commando skills. It explained the amount of effort it took to assemble the knowledge into something I could use. The three pirates in the room presented a further problem. Any attempt to move might draw their attention and that was something we should not, could not risk at this point. My consciousness expanded even further the station, flowing along the hallways most likely to be used during our escape. Flaws became apparent, a weakness in the metal, a power junction poorly wired, and at a least a pair of conduits carrying volatile chemicals throughout the station. Letting go of the Force, I turned to Aira and said, “If it is okay with you, I will take up the rearguard on the way back to the ship. I have some additional tasks that will insure extra chaos for our piratical friends and contribute to the station’s destruction. ”

Once we arrived safely in the command center and secured the two sets of doors into the place, I turned my full attention, both physical and Forced based, onto Apollo. I had good reason for doing so. During our initial meeting outside his prison cell, Apollo’s speech rang with a partial truth. The man held something back, a natural reaction for anyone who had been through what he had. If he wanted our help, however, he needed to be more forthcoming with everything he knew. To do that, we needed to trust each other far beyond our initial meeting. “Aira,” I said, “Scarif was the home of a sect of Force users. They saw the Force differently but stayed on friendly terms with the Jedi. We exchanged information and studied each other’s techniques for many years.” My mind drifted back through the years to that briefing in the Temple when we learned some of the cost of the war years. The Master and the Force that day felt heavy with sadness, regret and pain. “We lost contact with them during a massive offensive by the Empire. The Council listed them as destroyed during one of the purges of Force Users conducted by the Sith throughout their conquered territories.” Bowing my head in Apollo’s direction, I said, “Apparently, the Council’s decision was wrong. I can’t imagine the suffering that has resulted.” Apollo knew though, and he radiated that pain into the Force along with an intense anger directed at the Jedi that clashed with the hope he also felt. Understandable considering everything the man had gone through to get to this point. My heart went out to the man, but that was the past. We now had the opportunity to change what had gone wrong. Taking a seat at a center console, I turned to the room at large. “As Aira said, we are coming with you to help your people. It’s up to the two Captain’s if they and their units are coming with us.” Meeting Apollo’s eyes I said, “On the listing of ships we have for BlackFist’s fleet, an anomaly popped up.” I accessed the terminal and transferred that list to the command room’s central screen and highlighted the name that caught my attention earlier. “The Valentine-Hunt group specializes in extremely high risk salvage operations. They became the darling of the holonet a few years back when they rescued a refugee ship. A ship considered impossible to rescue because of how deep into a Black Hole’s gravity well the ship had fallen.” Apollo's eyes went to Aira and locked onto hers. I found that interesting and filed it away for later. After a very long time, he replied very quietly in a voice almost devoid of emotion. "My people's ship is orbiting a Blue-White hyper giant." To me, it was simply another ingredient in the stew we'd fallen into. One that seemed to be rapidly coming to a boil, but we needed to focus on our present to be useful later. “Captains,” I said, “We need to get safely out of here. If we can do so without Blackfist realizing Apollo’s going with us so much the better. Once we are safe, if you want to part with us it will be okay.” They nodded my direction even as I turned towards Aira and Apollo. “Apollo, Aira’s commanding this mission and will command the mission to save your people. Once we get out of here, you’ll need to start talking to her and let her know everything you can. I am here to advise and serve.” Finally, I looked directly at Aira. “It is up to you, but I think you should extend your meditation to include Apollo. It will make getting out of here that much easier.”

Some situations keep finding ways to repeat themselves throughout galactic history, albeit with some minor details that change the entire dynamic of the situation. And that’s where we found ourselves, recreating one of the greatest, craziest and badly conceived rescue attempts to ever succeed. Had I not been a Jedi, I might have found the whole situation amusing. And maybe it would be in the future. At the moment, we had other things to worry about. Like being in the middle of a detention center in the middle of a base full of ruthless pirates trying to complete an information raid that suddenly got far more complicated. Yet the Force led us here, and that meant the man standing before us had to be important in some way to our mission. We just had to discover how and for that we needed time and space to get to know each other, our needs, and how we all could help each other. I immediately turned to the Wookie captain and said, “Sometimes these things happen when you’re a Jedi. We learn to accept them and their consequences.” A short growl was my answer followed by a lengthy but quiet reply in Shyriiwook. ”We grow up with the stories of Jedi, this is not a surprise. The questions I want is answered is how do we trust this man, what does he want, and what are we going to do now? We don’t even know his name. Whatever answers we come up with, let’s not come up with them in the middle of a detention center.” Looking at Walker, I saw and felt acceptance of the situation but felt she had the same questions. Aira and the cell’s former occupant seemed removed from any concerns, focused on something the rest of us could not see. The currents of the Force swirling around them indicated a budding attraction there, stemming from the physical and already beginning to extend into the emotional. Oddly enough, the man before us was not a Force User. The Force currents around the two held answers, but they only seemed to lead to more questions. Experience told me that the best place to start would be at the beginning. I did sense the man was trustworthy and came to us with the greatest need. The Wookie had given me the answer for the problem of getting to know him and the Jedi code gave one to what was happening to Aira and our new member. It was an absolute solution that I rejected in light of the happiness that stemmed from my own experience. Something I often admitted that brought wonder and trouble in equal measure. “We seem destined to travel together. So let’s start with names. I’m Jedi Master Dashel Illioni, this is Captains Kenithan and Walker,” I said, nodding to the Wookie and the other Human respectively. Continuing I said, “This is Jedi Knight Aira Caiden who is leading the mission. We need to find somewhere to talk further to sort this all out. If you have a suggestion that doesn’t scream trap, say so now or we’ll beat a retreat back to our ship” Gently, I stepped between the two and laid my hands on their shoulders. “When we move out, I’ll lead, Aira will follow and the two captains can guard our flanks with you in the center.” “So, what’s your name and where shall we go?”

One of my talents as a Jedi lies in the realm of what the old order called Sorcery. As such, I spend a great amount of time watching how living Jedi utilize the Force, the better to create objects that can enhance those same talents or even grant those skills t those without them. Watching Aira extend her empathy into the meld we now shared proved fascinating. An intensive longing found its way to my fingertip, making them ache for a stylus and pad to record my observations and start planning for a new piece. It had to wait until I had time. WE were about to run a data raid on pirate stronghold. My companions were counting on me being a legitimate part of the meld, of adding my gifts to enhance us. With Aira busy with the meld, I immediately extended my Force sense as far as I cold and still leave myself present and able to interpret the Force currents made by the living beings of this station. As we paused at the first intersections, one of those currents immediately stood out because of how different it was. While most of the currents around consisted of a tangle of greed, anger, and other dark emotions, it told a faint story of selflessness, devotion, and a deep steady compassion. I wanted to take point immediately, but my group consisted of three seasoned professional. While Aira would probably understand, if I just walked forward, my other two companions might not despite their previous interactions with Jedi. Something in the meld told me the others were about to move in a direction opposite of the way I felt we should go. What I needed to do required direct contact between two Jedi. Quietly, carefully, I crossed to where Aira crouched, I gently touched her shoulder and extended my senses so she could sense what I did. I only had a moment to do so, but also had to be gentle about it or risk a possible overload of her senses. It was probably an unnecessary worry, but I never forgot my responsibilities as a teacher. I knew my Jedi companion was key to convincing the others and felt sure that whatever waited at the end of that current was somehow important to our success.

Cautious as we moved, it ended up taking us several hours for our three ships to coordinate our orbits and get decent scans of the pirate’s haven. The data we gathered brought the others around to my line of reasoning, of using a small reconnaissance team to gather information on the station. I understood Aira’s and the Wookies’ desire to assault the station and sort through the rubble afterward. Our group just did not have the fire or man-power to complete a successful assault. Before we began our ships even reached an initial orbit of Drall, I needed to prepare myself for what lay ahead. I’d went into the Coruscant raid nearly blind and that was not to be repeated on a personal level. From its nook in my quarters, I took down the Ranger’s armor I’d worn before becoming a Jedi. Handling the thing brought back a flood of memories which my Jedi training pushed out of my consciousness. My hands lingered over the where the patches once were, torn off when my connection to the Force had been discovered on Trian. A crudely painted representation of BlackFist’s symbol tarnished the armor further. A smile crossed my face at my attachment to the memories of my former life. Closing my eyes, I began a brief meditation to cleanse my mind of the attachment or at least make it more manageable. The brief meditation brought a clarity that surprised me concerning these memories. They were a part of my. Denying them meant denying part of me. So I let them flow, let myself embrace them for the first time since beginning to train as a Jedi. My meditation ended quickly, leaving me feeling whole and refreshed in a way that felt complete. Oddly enough, it left me feeling deeply connected and enfolded by some of the deepest currents of the Force. Having finished uncaring for my armor, I took my Orcilinus double chambered blaster and began checking out the weapon. As always, it was in full working order along with a 3 clips each for the weapon’s dual chambers. Laying down the blaster, I took a bag full of marbles, the special kind consisting of micro explosives that would go in a pouch opposite of the magazines for the blaster. A glance at my preparations left me feeling uneasy, that it looked awfully short of being acceptable for a mercenary’s kit. Frowning, I stood and walked towards the door of my quarters to go and search for a blaster rifle of some sort and grenades. The door opened to reveal Kala standing there with and old DxR6 carbine with an attached grenade launcher in her hands and the kind of satchel that held multiple types of grenades. My utility belt began to look to be more crowded yet complete by the second. Without saying a word she handed the weapons to me and wordlessly walked into my small suite. With a gesture, she let me know she wanted to talk. I locked the door, engaged the privacy settings, and sat down to service the weapons. Kala sat opposite and watched the proceedings for a few moments before speaking. My fingers, at first frustratingly rusty, began remembering the old tasks and the weapon soon lay in several pieces. She laid a data chip before me and began speaking. “The good inspector that met us at the spaceport? I thought I recognized him from somewhere. Finally figured out where.” “Oh?” “Remember Kharjo’s little run in on Coruscant? The man interrogated Marta and Delaney after the event.” “On Coruscant? What would a Corsec investigator be doing on Coruscant?” “Not Corsec, Republic Inteligence.” Only my Jedi training kept me in my chair and from pacing about the room. “Kala, does Aira know about this?” “Haven’t yet. You need to look at that chip first and the message the agent left you.” I reached out the chip and put into the appropriate slot on the cabin’s computer. Almost immediately the agent’s face appeared before us. “Jedi Master Illioni, by the time you receive this I have no doubt you will be on your way to the task waiting for you on a certain Blackfist station. I can’t promise you any Republic or Corsec backup, but there’s a Corellian task force just sitting out there waiting for trouble to start.” Kala smiled over at me and then continued speaking, “I’ll forward this to Aira. Did you ever take a look over the file on Knight Aira’s abilities?” “You mean her empathy scores and Knight Onderon’s thoughts on what they meant? “So you were paying attention.” “I have a task for her to begin training those abilities that may or may not put her on the same path as Bastila Shan.” I finished re-assembling the rifle and donned all the battle gear I had laid out. Kala looked me over critically for a moment when I rose. “Before you go to the bridge, we need to do something about that fur. Get out of that gear and come here.” She finished darkening my fur to the darkest blue I had ever seen it just before the bridge crew announced the first of the scanning passes. As I said, the scans convinced Aira and the Wookie to reconnoiter the station. We gathered on the bridge of the ‘Scratch’ to discuss the particulars of how we intended to infiltrate the station. Our chance came when an Action 4, tethered to the station suddenly listed to one side. A fireball erupted from the side of the stricken vessel causing the stern of the giant vessel to separate from the vessel. We watched in horror as debris and bodies spilled into the vacuum and no one moved to aid them. I felt their deaths in the Force, their fear and terror at dying in the void. A few survived long enough for me to see many of them as the Force saw them. That Action IV’s casualties were pirates, sentients whose nature and choices in life allowed us the choice of holding our position or asking. I passed the information on to Aira and the rest of our parties. One of the overhead bridge monitors chirped for attention. Looking up, I saw the opportunity the Action IV was providing for us. The debris and radiation spewing from the wreckage meant that the sensor’s aboard the station now had several large and mobile blind spots. I turned to Aira and said, “If the ‘Scratch’ or a shuttle can follow the blind spots that ship provided, we should be able to quietly board the station. Turning to the Captains Kenithan and Walker, I asked them, “Gentleman, I have a request for you but its contingent upon Knight accepting a task while we board the station. You see, I would like her to use her empathy to track all three of our ships, and the three of us using the Force. Not a temporary track, not a part time tracking, but a continuous track on all of us even during our infiltration.”

“That’s the official line anyway,” said Dashel, “It seems eight ships have been raided over 3 days. The attackers hit and fade before the military or anyone else can respond. Each time, they take a few of the passengers than disappear without making any demands. The press and public are pretty up in arms about the latest one where the mysterious attackers hit a refugee column and took several Miraluka families.” He turned back to Aira with a grim smile on his face. He brought up another list, this one with the passengers missing from the previous linked raids. “Everyone of the taken passengers has either been suspected or investigated for being Force-Sensitive by the Jedi order. A fact that the press has consistently missed somehow. I’ll bet Corsec hasn’t, but they are keeping the information from the public.” Taking a quick breath, he said, “And there’s this…image that’s been circulating the local ‘net.” A quick click brought up a grainy image file. It showed a clenched, black fist clearly displayed on what seemed to be a frigate of some sort. A captioned noted that the shot had been taken from a camera of a Corsec agent lost near Drall. “Now, I don’t know why Inspector Ballestori didn’t request help or offer aid to us. But…” A beeping near his feet interrupted his thoughts. He looked to down to locate the source of the noise and discovered a small, mouse type droid bearing the markings of Coresec. He reached and grabbed a pad and connected the two via a cable on the droid. “Then again...” A series of coordinates appeared on the pad along with a copy of a Corsec file that included a higher quality image of the one Dashel found on the local ‘net. The agent’s report inside detailed the agent’s tracking a suspected smuggling ship to an abandoned station around Drall before being found dead alongside a local prostitute. He brought up yet another file on the screen. “That station was purchased by a consortium of buyer’s with known ties to organized crime after the previous owners went bankrupt. And while the court records list the bankruptcy as due to fiscal mismanagement, a quick search reveals a number of their properties being destroyed by criminal activity.” Looking at Aira he said, “None of this would be enough for a search warrant, but with a dead agent involved Corsec wants answers. Inspector Ballesori must think we can provide them. I wonder which of those four dropped this little droid off and when, not that is important.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “The GrassTiger’s been cleared and ready for liftoff. We can have everything we need transferred aboard as soon as we’re ready. After that, we need to find a way to infiltrate that station and find out what’s there and I think we need to it quickly. BlackFist seems to be building to something and we need to find out what.”

Aira’s question roiled Dashel’s stomach that had little to do with the meat heavy sandwich he’d recently eaten. He gave her a single quiet look that contained all of his disdain for the question before carefully replying, “I think I’d rather have a quiet understanding with Corsec and build a little trust with them, even if causes us trouble later on.” Following the navigation cues being given by the escorting ships, Dashel cruised slowly over one of many Coronet city’s main spaceports. He caught glimpses of various ships from all over the galaxy, but the primary types seemed to be Corellian engineering types. As they approached their designated bay, the GlassTiger passed on their port side. Dash attempted a quick appraisal as they passed by, but a quick glance told him the ship appeared okay. He wandered why BlackFist attempted to attack the ship. The two escorts quickly flew off once they landed in their designated bay, just a short walk from where the GlassTiger was berthed. Before he could finish the engine shut down, the comm system crackled to life. “Captain Dashel, please remain on board your ship. Captain Bellatori wishes to search your ship for contraband. Please prepare to receive boarders.” Dashel keyed a quick response and then turned to Aira. “I am thinking this Bellatori might be more than what he seems.” He turned towards the ships computer and queried the local databases for a picture of Bellatori. An image of a short, leaned human with dark hair and olive skin soon appeared on the monitor along with the highlights of a 20 year career. “Aira, I think you should be the one to greet this man. Be honest with him about why we are here and let’s see what happens.”

During the sublight cruise into the system, Dash noticed an increased number of ships being delayed by Coresec at what looked like newly created checkpoints in the planet’s higher orbits. He hoped Aira’s modifications to the ship’s transponder held up under scrutiny. Halfway to the planet, a Coresec controller contacted them. “Corvette Scratch, please state your intended purpose within the Corellian system.” Frowning, Dash responded, “Corvette Scratch carrying operator, replacement crew, and parts for the GrassTiger.” The response given by the Coresec operator was a beauracratic “Proceed to marker 89.7, await escort.” Dash typed the coordinates into the nav system and found he only needed to make a minor course correction to go towards the indicated marker. Setting his sublight drive to a minimum speed, he drifted forwards almost on momentum alone. Seconds after arriving at the marker, the corvette’s proximity sensors indicated the arrival of two patrol ships that immediately fell into an escort formation with him. The same controller again spoke, “Scratch, proceed to docking bay, meet with Captain Balletori, Corsec Immigrations and Customs Enforcement.” “Roger that Coresec, have a nice day” The comm system went silent even as the trio of ships proceeded to the docking bay that held GrassTiger Dash was about to key the ship’s intercom when he felt Aira’s presence beside him. Looking towards her he asked, “Heard anything about this Captain Balletori?”

Two days later, Dash found himself at the controls of the ship when the navicomputer chimed its five minute warning for reversion to realspace. He called Aira to the bridge who arrived just before the corvette reverted just outside the Corellian system’s outer navigation marker.

Dashel turned towars Aira with a sad smile on his face and replied, “Because most of my contacts view Jedi with suspicion and that was before our latest galactic drama.” He paused while struggling with sadness of what he knew to be the truth of the Jedi order’s most pressing crisis, a lack of faith. Year after year of the Jedi takin a stand had actually resulted in them being blamed for many of the galaxy’s ills. Setting aside his emotions, he continued, “After that, even many of those who’ve been steadfast in their faith fell away from willingly helping me or even meet other Jedi. I am not sure that some of them even trust me.” Looking at Aira, he came to decision. “I think maybe its time to change that trend. When we are through with this mission, we will go to Tython and I’ll introduce you to the quietest temple anyone’s ever been a part of. After that, if they want, I will introduce you to Burksed and his wife. Dashel’s eyes lit up as he thought about Aira meeting the indomitable woman. Some of the sadness evaporated in the wake of his sudden humor. “If you threaten her family, cause trouble at Burksed’s business, or a few other things like tat, she turns into an enraged Wookie. She turned on my right after rescued them and laid down he limits of what I could expect in return.” He chuckled at the memory of his own discomfort during those negotiations. “Facing a Darth’s easier than that.” Subsiding quickly, he subconsciously began working towards the balance commanded by the Jedi code. He gazed outwards toward the starlines streaking by the viewports. Serveal minutes passed by in silence before he spoe again. “As for Kala, Marta, an Delaney, introduce yourself. All three are with me because of the Sith in one way or another and wish to do something about it, even if it means being seen with a Jedi. Hir dedication sometimes borders on a dangerous obsession.” He left out precisely which one because all three burned with passion towards ending he Sith at one time or another. On a small viewscreen built into the frigates main console, he brought up the results of a worm programmed be Delaney to search for any mention of the system they might be heading to. Seeing the scarcity of new results, he closed down the display and again spoke to Aira. “There are two places on this ship that would be suitable for meditation. One of the crew’s quarters contains trace of joy in it, a residual of something profound with echoes of the Force.” “The other,” he said, “is the Sith’s personal sanctuary. You choose and if you want, I’ll serve as a guide to the deeper levels of the Force.”

Dashel finished watching the video sent to him by his wife from the Healing wing of the Tython temple. She seemed in high spirits, if a bit tired and a little weary about the eyes. Then again being near to their delivery date did that to a lot of women and his wife had more reason than most to have shadows under her eyes. Men and women from different species with non-compatible D.N.A. usually did not have the opportunity to give birth. Being Jedi gave the two of them greater opportunities than most and so far her pregnancy seemed to be proceeding as it should with one exception. Somewhere along the lines, an exception entered into the plans of the Healers as during a routine ultrasound revealed the presence of twins where there had been only a single child before. Further scans told them both children were of the same age despite not being detected until late into the pregnancy. He shook his head at yet another mystery courtesy of the Force before letting himself feel the overwhelming joy at being the father of a pair of twins, both female and strong in the Force according to his wife. Taking several deep breaths he let the joy go into the Force before typing a short message to Aira about his wife’s imminent labor, his joy over his impending Fatherhood, and a short clip from the video embodying the reason why he was here and not with his wife. The video ended with a message from his wife admonishing him to do his duty to the Force and she would join him when she and the twins were able to be up and about. She kept reminding him that she had foreseen his absence from her side during the birth as part of their commitment to serving the Force. He did not mind the reminder, it helped it him stay on mission despite missing her and the need of all new fathers to be at their wife’s side for the birth of their children. Calming himself, he moved on to a message from Burksed concerning modifications and repairs he’d conducted on several BlackFist ships on both Coruscant and amidst the rubble of Dac (Mon Calamari). The lists of ships he’d repaired for BlackFist consisted mostly of the standard light to medium freighters favored by all criminal groups throughout the galaxy. Several of the crew members, however, openly bragged about the group having acquired a light cruiser and a pair of frigates from a derelict military outpost. Dash could only guess what they intended to use those for. Along with the information came a lot of interesting tidbits dropped by various crew members within hearing range of Burksed’s employees. They ranged from several upper echelon members of Blackfist acquiring very expensive armor and weapons to the hiring of Mandolorian and Ubese mercenaries as elite bodyguards for several key players. During one short passage through normal space, investigators from Corsec sent them forensic evidence from the computers, inmates and deceased mercenaries from the prison. A great deal of information paraded past him on the screen, most of which seemed inconsequential to their mission. Several small ships and fighters that were going to be impounded and eventually sold he flagged for transmission to Burksed for his perusal. The item that got his attention came from visor of a mercenary who’d been taking imagery of several places whose identity remained a mystery to the Republic investigators. Several images were of an ancient space station whose design predated anything Dashel had ever scene. He had a feeling he was seeing images of Palawan, a feeling that was confirmed when a grainy image of a grounded exploration ship came up. Dash handed them to Kala, asking her to see if she could get the frigates nav system to identify the system in question from clues in the backgrounds of the pictures. One of the investigators had flagged information gained from interviews with several prisoners held in areas away from the main cells, many not even listed on the prison’s central computer. As he read through the agent’s report, he gained a sense that as significant as finding Palawan was to the Sith, it was not the final, desired result. It was towards the end that one prisoner, kept in a deserted wing of the prison and looked after by an ancient, blind caretaker, said something during his interview that really got the attention of Dashel. “I was a crewman onboard the freighter ’Blue Zelt’ when the BlackHand intercepted us during a brief reversion into hyperspace. We expected to be ransomed when one of the pirates came back from searching through our navigation records. After that, we were separated and placed within separate cells and interrogated by the pirate’s advisor, some kind of Jedi.” Looking at the weathered figured on the screen, Dashel wished he could have been there for the interview. Something in the man’s countenance told him the interrogation had been conducted by the Sith with little gentleness or subtlety. The man continued speaking after visibly collecting both his breath and calming himself. Dash had read accounts from survivors of Sith interrogations. Jedi and non-Jedi alike always emerged changed and usually not for the better. “I was asked continuously about a hyperspace reversion that occurred when our navicomputer malfunctioned during a run between Corellia and several worlds on the trade spine. Our sensors had picked up a massive ship orbiting a blue hypergiant in a nearby system. We quickly fixed the navicomputer and continued our route, but not before the sensor data started to reveal any number of things that freaked the Captain out.” Tagged with the video came the information that unfortunate freighter got from its scans of that mystery system. Unlike the late Captain, Dash kept his cool concerning that data from sensors. The sensors recorded a sleeper ship, but of a configuration unidentifiable due to corruption in the data system. Dashel wondered why the Sith had shown interest in the ship and decided to search for that ship after taking down BlackFist. He found himself looking forward to damaging a major criminal organization alongside another Jedi. Like the Palawan photos, Dashel forwarded the image to Kala for possible clues to identity and location. Everything he found that seemed necessary to the mission and beyond he forwarded to Aira for her perusal along with his own thoughts on the matter. When he finished with the reports, he took a moment to compose a short message to his wife and then left the commshack. He went to the auxiliary cargo bay he’d claimed for himself for the journey to Corellia and began to raised his commlink to ask Kala to join him. Instead, he found her inside the space, setting up the former Sith’s crystal forge and sorting through the various supplies they’d found with the man’s former space. “What?” he asked as he looked over the items and her work. “You haven’t worked on your sorcery for a while and a number of these items can be used for that purpose. We’ll be taking them with us unless Aira wants some part of them.” “Agreed,” said Dashel, “Now I need to talk with the keeper of that holocron inside of you.” Kala blinked then said, “Why? I can tell you everything she can, she did program me all those millennia ago.” “Okay, tell me how the Force can be used to bind another’s mind to the point where the controlling Force user knows their every thought, can use their senses including any Force ability, and even control their body.” The droid blinked, distinctly and slowly, and indication to Dashel he’d given her a problem of a sufficient difficulty she needed a moment. Seconds later, she responded to his statement in a voice still hers, but with subtle differences that told him the keeper of her holocron, programmed by the healer Kala who’d followed Revan all those years ago, now spoke to him instead of the Droid. As always, her first words were a challenge to him. “By what right do you call upon me?” “None. I am a Jedi following the Force, allowed to play among the stars.” Dashel smiled at the answer and response. The only reason he’d ever gotten past the keeper had been making that very remark as flippantly as possible while being highly agitated at his inability to bypass the keeper. “Hey Dash,” said the Keeper, “How are you?” “Well enough,” said Dashel, “did Kala tell you why I asked for you?” “Its called Fashka Los'vuthil, a force familiar. Its something some of the Sith experimented with under the rule of Vivectus. Some came close to the desired results yet no one every quite got there completely without ugly consequences.” “Someone found a way and now one of my crew wants me to use the technique on her. Says its urgent, as something in her genetic make up makes it necessary for her to do so when she gets old enough.” “She was created to be a familiar?” asked the keeper. “That’s interesting. So she might have some kind of genetic need or it might have been psychologically programmed into her.” “Okay,” said Dashel, “That actually helps. Thank you.” “May the Force be with you,” said the keeper before returning full control to the droid’s programmed personality.” “I’ll get that information to Tython,” said Kala, “and have them do some mental physical scans on the girl using both technology and the Force. Now, you might want to get to the cockpit and have a talk with Aira about the near future and the raid your about to commence. Some new information came in from Kharjo concerning a BlackFist on Corellia.” "He's not supposed to be doing anything other than shuttling the ship there," said Dashel, concern for the apprentice creeping into his voice. "The tried attacking the 'GrassTiger' at her landing pad. Internal defense systems decimated the attacking mercs and that's before Kharjo went out to play. In fact, he didn't need to do anything except notify the authorities about a need for a clean up." "Okay," said Dashel, "what else?" "Kharjo and the authorities tracked the mercs back to a light freighter still sitting in its respective bay. Kharjo attached a tracker to the ship and then returned to the "Tiger I". Corellia control has orders to let the freighter through." "Corsec pulling strings?" "Nope," said Kala, "Galactic Alliance HQ." "Nice development. I'll go talk to Aira."

Dashel felt the slight tug of Tython’s gravity as the lift rose from the depths of the Jedi Temple’s cloning chambers. He reflected on the events that landed him there and felt a momentary sadness at the loss of his Padawan and the disaster that the dance had become at Harumn Kal. His return had been delayed by the nature of the disease released upon the attendees at the Governor’s Ball. The genetically altered organism somehow affected the cloning process in a way that needed to be studied further, something Dashel felt a pull towards, but his duties with the Jedi Temple precluded involvement in that research. So he found himself rising towards the main temple floor, wondering at how the galaxy had fared since then.

Dashel and Kharjo found themselves waiting in the anteroom of Master Vao’s apartment after a fairly easy transit from the Eternal Vigilance. During the journey, the members of the group got to know each other far better (then they had before.) (They also) trained, and planned for the road after the Governor’s Ball on Haruun Kal. Both Jedi felt nervous as they waited for the ladies to emerge from behind the door that led to Master Vao’s dressing room. Occasional sounds drifted past the Orowood door, ranging from girlish laughter to a feminine laugh shot through with power and grace. With each sound that made it through, Kharjo’s head jerked towards the door, the expression on his face telling Dashel that each delay worsened his Padawan’s nerves. Dashel watched with his eyes crinkled with the wisdom of an elder remembering his own experiences repeated by a young man. Settling deeper into the leather upholstered chair he’d claimed upon entering the antechamber, Dashel reflected on the trip back to the temple as a way to calm his own nerves. He snorted with a wry surprise at the way his heart raced at the thought of Luo and the transformation their relationship underwent during the journey. It seemed that every moment not dedicated to something else found the two of them gathered at the main lounge, gazing through the overhead observation dome, holding hands or looking into each other’s eyes while their fingertips met between them. Their physical relationship mirrored their journey into the Force, as a bond developed between them, deeper, separate, and far different than the bond formed between Master and Padawan. By common consent, they moved slowly, exploring the new territory through which their emotions carried them. They both knew exactly what they felt, what it was named, but logic and training dictated a gentle and deliberate examination of the changes their lives were undergoing. To provide them with some answers, the two did what all Jedi did when confronted with a problem that lay outside their areas of expertise or knowledge. The two began with Kala’s help gathering the journals of predecessors in the Order whom married or formed long-term partnerships regardless of how those relationships turned out. Both felt apprehensive about the depths of their feelings and the consequences of a relationship formed from their feelings. Dashel also knew he needed to understand his own relationship with Luo to help Kharjo through the relationship formed between the Padawan and Alyssa, something that seemed to begin taking a greater level of importance after their return from Kharjo’s emotional sanctum. The depth of the relationship and its consequences became a constant concern for Inaure Vao and Dashel. Both watched their individual Padawans for any evidence that their emotions affected their training or mindset, but the two teens seemed to be mirroring the cautious way Luo and Dashel explored their relationship if for different reasons. The two Master’s made sure to leave the door open for their Padawans to talk to them about the emotions involved in their relationship, but neither teen seemed to need any guidance yet. One subject concerning the relationship, the two Master’s made mandatory. During one planning session for operations after Haruun Kal, Knight Luo referenced the medical files on all the ship’s crew and noted that neither Kharjo nor Alyssa had yet been given their five year implant to both prevent pregnancy and guard against several common transmittable diseases, both of the intimate variety and the commonly contagious type. As soon as both Masters heard that piece of news, the two Padawans had been summoned individually to the med bay for testing, injection, explanation and a very stern lecture concerning the responsibilities of physical intimacy. For the first time, Dashel laid down his absolute expectations to Kharjo concerning his behavior towards any intimate partners. He left little room for doubt about the responsibilities an individual carried towards themselves and their partner when being intimate and the emotional and physical consequences of bad choices as well as their treatment of the other partner. At the very least, anger and pain might play out, at worst, a bad choice might turn another down the Dark Path when those two emotions became straight hate. Of other choices, such as type of relationship, type or number of partners, Dashel left out. His journey’s across the galaxy left little doubt in his mind that different things set different hearts beating and that accepting people for whom they were dovetailed very nicely with the Jedi code. That he often gained important allies when he valued the whole person instead of one aspect did not get left out, but he knew that this lesson Kharjo probably needed to learn directly before its importance truly became understood. Dashel knew that his Padawan witnessed the benefits and consequences of seeing such people during their briefing with the CorSec officer and his two companions. All parties left feeling satisfied with the outcome and knew that their meeting meant something and all knew the importance each treated the encounter with. From the encounter in Senate square, another example presented itself, but its import Kharjo clearly did not understand and while Dashel knew of its importance, the scope of that importance yet escaped his vision and seemed to not yet make itself known within his meditations. Regardless, Miss Dax continued to surprise them all by trying to find a way to blend in with the Jedi and droids on board. A bond formed between her and Kala and resulted in the two of them being seen constantly aboard the ship together, with Kala escorting the young Zeltron into various corners of the craft. Dashel knew she took few people to these places and that he only knew of them because of his familiarity with the ship and explorations of every space undertaken during the long hours spent in hyperspace. He wondered about the bond and eventually found the time to speak with Kala about that bond between the two. "Dax needs someone whose not a Jedi to talk to and I am the only one on board that fits that bill," said Kala. Dashel stayed quiet waiting, knowing that Kala almost always acted for more than one reason. "Plus, the girl's taste of freedom seems to have rooted in her heart a need to help others find their own. She needed a way to contribute so I began teaching her." Kala nodded to herself as the console she was working on re-energized. She went utterly and impossibly still, a sign to Dashel that she had completely tuned herself to something internal to the ship. That she went through that much effort meant something and Dashel once again waited. As he waited, Dashel heard bulkheads closing, isolating them in that section of the ship. Fans came on in the ship's ventilation system, providing a background noise that provided additional privacy. Dashel tensed, thinking one of Kala's instructional routines might have kicked in. She chuckled at his raised awareness level. "Maybe next time," she said. "Have you sat in on Dax's mental healing sessions with Luo?" "Is there something I should be aware of? asked Dashel, well aware that she would not have asked unless she considered the reason important enough. Kala looked aside as if considering the consequences of revealing what she knew. She looked back at Dashel and said, "You know physical Healing, expand your horizons into mental healing by training with Luo." Dashel looked into Kala's eyes for a moment before replying, "Luo's going to love this." If Kharjo ever noticed that his master suddenly seemed to be burdened with additional studies of his own or seemed to meet with Luo and Dax twice a week at the same time every time for the journey and during the run up to the ball he wisely remained silent save for a quiet look at the reading material every now and again. Then again, if asked Kharjo might tell the questioner that his own work load increased at the same time. Dashel piled training upon him, from physical training, lightsaber forms, and meditation sessions and as well as lessons on both maintaining and piloting the GrassTiger. If Kharjo felt like he was being pushed and pushed hard, no blame would come his way. Dashel upped the tempo again and again, until their days stretched into the 20 hour range again and again. He was never harsh when the pace caused Kharjo to fall asleep during an activity. After falling asleep himself a couple of times, Dashel gave him two days, except for the dance lessons the two started once they arrived at Haruun Kal. Dashel knew their instructor found the limited time frame between their arrival and the actual ball fairly frustrating and from the remarks she made ever so quietly a source of general frustration. He tried to make up for the lack of time by forcing himself to practice as he typically trained. The result was Dashel being scolded to relax, after all he was dancing, not going into combat. Dashel quietly snorted through his nose at that pronouncement, something the dancing instructor took notice of and on which she immediately commented. "Poor Jedi, you only see the politics and danger inherent to the dance you’re going to." She paused their instruction, looked both Dashel and Kharjo up and down and read them as well as any Jedi elder might. Her ability to read them despite being non-Force sensitive sparked a later conversation between Kharkov and Dashel. "Both of you have partners for this dance," she said and then pointed at Dashel, as if to clarify about whom she was speaking. "Your mind, when your dancing, needs to be on your partner even if you want to be with someone else. What is it I have heard you Masters always telling other Jedi, keep your mind on the moment at hand?" "And you, Padawan, I can tell your worried about yours. Betting she's the first girl you have seen as more than a female Jedi. Remember that dancing is a rhythm between two people, each respecting the other, giving complete trust in the other, and existing completely in the moment." Dashel threw his head back at that pronouncement and laughed until he sat down with tears streaming down his face. When he finally could breathe, he explained, "You understand something important to being a Jedi and our relationship with the Force, something that is fundamental to the Jedi way without which a Jedi can quickly succumb to the darkside or even become a member of the Sith. The woman looked at him strangely than smiled and shared in his mirth. Still slightly laughing, she asked, “Does this mean you’ll be sending me Masters and Padawans to train?” “No,” said Dashel, “it means you’re going to finish training this Master and Padawan and then train some younglings at the temple, once the Jedi discreetly check you out. Of course, some payment will be coming your way should we clear you for entry into the Temple.” Silence reigned between the three and throughout the small studio until a rather discreet tapping dispelled the silence. When Dashel looked up, Alyssa Green stood in the doorway from the changing area looking shyly at the three of them. Once she looked over both Dashel and the female instructor, she locked eyes with Kharjo and smiled at him. Dashel knew without looking that his Padawan's heart momentarily skipped several beats. "Padawan Green," said Dashel, "it’s good to see you. Will your Master be joining you today?" It took her several moments to reply and Dashel realized the young woman and Kharjo seemed to have taken a brief leave of the senses. He nearly scolded her when a voice filled with feminine allure while projecting majesty and power filled the room from the direction of the dressing rooms. "Padawan, when one is addressed by a member of the Jedi council, its considered highly rude to keep them waiting or refuse to answer," said Inoure Vao as she stepped out onto the dance floor. Dressed in a one piece body suit Dashel recognized as being from a suit of stormtrooper armor. Vao covered everything but the curves accentuated by the close fit of the garment. Despite the stunning figure thus displayed, Dashel looked her straight in the eyes and smiled. He still did not know what occurred on Coruscant to unravel a once strict personality, but he certainly approved of the changes he saw and other Jedi noted. An almost entirely new person seemed to be emerging, one that combined a traditional Jedi’s calm reserve with feminine allure and power. "Sorry, Master Dashel," said Alyssa. "Um, Yes I am with Master Vao today. We accompanied the governor’s daughters today for their lessons.” Once the Padawan finished, Dashel let the silence linger while he thought through the implications of letting Kharjo stay watch over the girl’s lessons. He like the though, and by the time he turned to Kharjo a grin of heroic proportions graced his feline features. The grin contained nothing bad for his Padawan, but that Dashel now indulged his mischievous became clear to everyone in the room when he spoke after bowing to the dancing instructor. “Would you mind if my Padawan stayed for some additional instruction? A few turns with each of the ladies present will do him so good.” Dashel swore he heard Kharjo’s jaw drop. He saw Alyssa’s. Behind them all the two girls being guarded began whispering to each other in a hushed tone, giggling in between significant looks at Kharjo. Watching them, Dashel knew that they found the young man attractive and that seem to be enough of the two young ladies to begin primping themselves in preparation for dancing with the young man. His eyes met Vao’s and an understanding passed between them. His fellow master understood his motives to be far beyond the simply toying with the young couple and even approved of the two of them dancing together and swapping partners. The dancing master considered Dashel’s request for a moment before replying.in the affirmative. As he went to leave, Vao pulled him aside and said, “The two of the dancing together is good idea. I will bring Kharjo back to the temple. Why don’t you go help Master Erath out with Padawan Kharjo’s sister.” Dashel looked at her a moment before responding, “Whatever would you be talking about?” His voice and the twinkle in his eyes told her he knew exactly what sort of trouble Kharjo’s sister presented to Master Erath. If the smile worn earlier by Dashel when he assigned Kharjo to dance with Alyssa faded earlier, the smile returned in force. His entire sense through the Force told her that Jedi Master Dashel Illioni bore at least a partial responsibility for Master Erath’s current predicament. “I might have let slip to her that Erath approved her sister’s knighting and helped motivate Kharjo into becoming a Padawan,” he said quietly, careful to keep his voice pitched so that only someone paying close attention to their Master might overhear and understand. “So you might see where a young girl might get the idea that for some reason a certain Master might be the one to guide her towards becoming a Jedi Knight,” he said as he finally turned around and walked towards the men’s dressing room. The Dancing Master, well aware of the currents in the room if not in full possession of the facts turned towards the four teens in the room and hustled them into a series of stretches to warm up their legs, or in Kharjo’s case, stretches to help in refreshing his legs. When Vao joined them, the lady turned to the twi’lek Jedi Master and with a curious lilt in her voice spoke quietly so that the four teens stretching in the corner heard little or to further conceal what she said spoke in Twi’lek, “That one needs no lessons in dancing does he?” Inoure Vao replied back to the instructor in the same dialect of Twi’lek, “And yet there is one whom will Master him.” The two women shared a look before the dancing instructor spoke again. She might not have the Force, but a lifetime of experience in reading people’s body language and her intuition prompted a reply that spoke volumes only to those with the same experience, “He knows her, knows what she is too him and is finding ways to encourage her isn’t he? Before they joined the four teens, Vao finished the conversation, “When Dashel and his lady opened up to each other, he sealed a future with her. He knew, accepted and embraced that future despite that future meaning the end of the way of life he has known since joining the Order. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t easy for him, but he went willingly.” The instructor looked at Vao for moment before addressing the group, “Now, last week we went through some of the waltzes you will be dancing as debutantes. Let’s see if you practiced at all.” After Dashel left the dancing hall, he hailed a taxi. The driver took one look at his robes and said, “Temple?” “No,” said Dashel, “Burksed’s landing.” The cabby said little while he merged into the small bit of traffic Haruun Kal sported. After entering the traffic stream, the cabby began speaking through the partition, “Looking for a ship are you? Burksed’s a good place for that. It’s even said he has a soft spot for Jedi and is willing to cut them a deal provided they spend some time speaking to him about the goings on in the galaxy. He certainly has done a lot business since opening his dealership here, my company deals exclusively with his shop for all of our repairs. Whomever or whatever Burked is, he hires the best and what they repair stays fixed. More than a few shops gone out of business trying to compete or Burksed absorbed them and rather generously at that.” Dashel listened to the cabby’s prattle throughout the trip to the Landing. Once there, he paid the fare in full and heavily tipped the cabbie, something the cabby found rare among Jedi. He debated pulling away but instead shouted to Dashel, “Hey Jedi, you want me to wait until you come out?” Looking over his shoulder, Dashel said, “No, I am meeting some people here. I don’t really know where I will be going from and there really is no sense in you waiting around. Thanks though.” As soon as he finished speaking, the cabby pulled away from the curb melding into traffic the way Jedi threaded Starfighters into battle while Dashel walked into the building. Inside, he met Maevis Luo, whom openly and joyfully embraced him in her usually reserved manner. Or was it, he wondered , his joy at seeing her that colored his interpretation of the greeting. He gave up wondering about that thought after a few moments in her arms and just concentrated on enjoying the presence of the woman in his arms. They separated at a discrete cough from Burksed’s wife with whom Luo and had been speaking when Dashel walked in. The stout woman said nothing, just looked at Dashel and smiled .Her entire being radiated a satisfaction her husband took notice of but wisely refrained from asking her about till long after the three Jedi departed. Her only reply to him involved a simple smile that he knew very well. “So what did your Jedi friends want?” “Knight Luo decided to build a ship and asked Dashel to help her pick out the type, features, and additions she needed.” “I see,” said his wife. Years of marriage, children, and working together through the worst of times meant that he knew his wife very well. Burksed looked at her and said, “What exactly do you see?” She turned to Burksed and patiently explained, “Knight Luo invited Dashel along to see to a ship for both of them.” Burksed stared at his wife incrediously for a moment, trying to understand his wife’s reasoning and reached a conclusion. Knowing his wife, he simply asked, “How do you figure that?” “You saw the difference in him. He’s more open than before, more aware of another person than any other time in his life and Luo saw a future with him and him alone in it. Well, as much as two Jedi will be alone so long as they have the Force.” Once again, Burksed knew his wife held secrets from her past. He accepted her reluctance to talk about certain aspects of her past, but whatever she experienced occasionally came out at odd moments. Those odd moments always reminded him that the woman he loved seemingly forever came to him from somewhere else, somewhere that always colored and enhanced her understanding of people yet occasionally caused her a dark pain that only seemed to lesson when he held her. Now was not one of those times, but he decided to move on to the other Jedi present with Dashel and Luo. “Now Knight Sivar knew exactly what she wanted, and paid for the work up front, or rather, Dashel paid for the work upfront.” “Generous of him, did he say why?” “No, but I got the sense he was sending her somewhere dangerous and she needed a tough little ship capable of being repaired easily in the field.” “You will be adding a few small things of course.” “Of course.” Going to Burksed’s Landing came about for the three Jedi because of a meeting earlier when the group could get together. Everyone met inside the GrassTiger the only place Dashel felt the discussion might be held in relative security. Once the entire group consisting of Dashel, Kharjo, Vao, Green, Dax, Kala, and Pieta gathered, the meeting began with Dashel simply asking Kharjo and Pieta how their family members other than their youngest sister fared with the transition to Haruun Kal. Pieta attempted to speak first. Her voice caught as she spoke unfamiliar words and everyone waited as she attempted to work her mind around the unfamiliar concept of being able to acknowledge them as parents. She finally found her voice after Kharjo gently placed his hand over hers, giving her the comfort and understanding she needed to proceed with her presentation. She cleared her throat and though she barely spoke above a whisper. “My, our family is settling in at Burksed’s Landing as you proposed Master Dashel. Dad is probably driving Mr. Burksed crazy right now with his attempts to organize and streamline the shop to make everything as efficient as possible.” “Burksed’s wife, of course, is backing him entirely,” said Dashel, smiling fondly at that formidable woman’s complaints concerning her husband’s regrettable lack of organization everywhere but in the shop. “Yes, Master Illioni,” said Pieta, “Mom, as you know, has begun attending classes at the local university on your recommendation and the funds you provided. I believe she intends to major in pre-Med and Psychology, with a concentration in Force Users. She seems of the opinion that someone needs a better understanding of how the Force affects a mind, especially from the viewpoint of a non-Sensitive. She also desperately wants to understand the changes she sees in Kharjo and myself.” Kharjo continued from there, “Both of them seem happy despite the suddenness of the change in their lifestyles. They also still want to meet you and discuss, well, everything.” He paused a moment, and Alyssa walked up and placed her hand upon his in the same manner as Kharjo did for his sister moments before. To Dashel, it seemed he wanted to share something that he thought his Master and Master Vao might find unnecessary or even forbidden to a Jedi. Dashel smiled encouragingly, knowing that his Padawan wanted to tell them something that made the boy feel unsure yet something that the boy knew to be correct in every corner of his soul. “When I can, I have been getting to know our parents again. Pieta has been joining me. It seems so strange, my memories of them are one thing and yet I see them differently now.” Inoure Vao spoke at the point, “Dashel and I both concur that you should get to know them. The practice of isolating Jedi from their parents should have been phased out when Master Skywalker ordered it, yet some Jedi prefer the older practice.” Dashel continued from there, wanting to get the meeting to its main point, “I have ordered that the separation of a child and its parents to only be used in extreme conditions, such as the child of a Sith Lord or Master or that of an orphan. The other members of the main Jedi council signed off on the formal change to policy without comment.” He paused and pressed a few controls on a newly installed holo-table in the central lounge of his ship. Kala’s idea, the table existed for the sole purpose of this mission, with every bite of research, thought, or data concerning their current mission contained there and on a backup within the Jedi temple. The table quietly hummed to life while the group waited a few moments and soon two images appeared just above the surface of the table. On the left appeared the image of a statue. Everyone present recognized Kharjo’s and Pieta’s ancestor. A quick glance by those present who did not know showed that the image came from New Alderaan, the refuge of the remnant of Alderaan’s population that survived the destruction of their planet by the first Deathstar. Dashel knew that several pairs of eyes now focused on him and spoke, “Kala found a reference to this statue in the temple’s library. The dedication for this statue might surprise many of you.” He pressed another key and the image refocused on the base of the statue where in both Aurabesh and Cathar they all could read, “We give this statue of Jaquan the wise to the survivors of Alderaan, to inspire them in their efforts to rebuild and remember their old world on their new, to build a civilization in the face of savagery and ignorance.” Several pairs of now puzzled pair of eyes looked over at Dashel. Smiling at the curiosity he saw and letting them wait a moment. “That statue, according to its provenance, began its existence sometime around a decade after the death of Kharjo’s ancestor.” “Speculation among Jedi archeologists from the Old Republic who went to Cathar to study the statue indicate that the force flows around the statue in such a way that that the artist whom carved it also imbued it with the Force,” said Dashel. Pieta spoke, “Wait, are you telling me that there were Force-Users on Cathar sophisticated enough to imbue in-animate objects that far back?” “Both Kharjo’s visions and some scraps in the archive indicate the Cathar race, like so many others, once had its own tradition of Force-Users before contact with the New Republic or Sith,” contributed Kala. Inoure and Dashel looked at each other, realizing that Pieta, though completely briefed in, was not completely up to speed on so many of the implications of their discoveries. Both shook their head and knew that putting off their mission till after the governor’s ball actually benefitted the group’s individual members both for training and for knowledge of everything. “Considering the age of my people’s civilization, why do no records exist of these Force Users, their traditions, or ruins exists that are strong in the Force?” The image of Jaqen flickered and soon became replaced by an image of Cathar. Dashel looked over at Kala who came around the table to point at several broad swathes of deserts on the globe’s surface. “An analysis of modern scans of the planet’s surface indicates the highlighted areas simply contain desert or scrub lands without interest to anyone, yet no images exists of these areas from satellite, aircraft, or even amateur imaging amateurs. That could be overlooked, yet in at least one case a Jedi expedition went into these two areas. “ The two areas she pointed out immediately chained to another color as Kala continued to speak,” Records from that expedition were lost during the sacking of the Jedi Temple three centuries after Revan’s war.” She pointed to one of the two newly colored areas. “Analysis of the mineralogical composition of the satellite indicate the statue came from this area. Records indicate an area of scrubland crisscrossed by numerous canyons and small but rugged mountain ranges.” Dashel looked around the table, making a decision to assist their mission and help further Kharjo’s training as a Jedi. “Kharjo, you will be accompanied by Kala, Dax, and Knight Luo to New Alderaan and visit the statue of Jaquan. Gather as much information from every source, from the Force to local gossip. You, Padawan Kharjo Sivao are in charge of this mission. You have until after the ball to give me your plans for the group. Ask for help if you need it during any stage of the mission and do not forget to continue training.” He turned to the remainder of the group. “Master Vao, Padawan Green, and I search the area Kala indicated for us. Considering the area we will need to search, Kharjo and his group should be able to join us once their examination of the statue is complete.” “Knight Sivao will be undertaking a different mission for me, one unrelated to this mission. An archeological mission to on Ossus recently became the recipient of a Svelte class shuttle and a YT-2400.. A note carved into the shuttles airlock by a lightsaber indicated the group should contact the Jedi temple and donate the Svelte class shuttle and keep the YT-2400 for themselves. The group, once sponsored by a Sith apprentice, is now ours as indicated by the same note.” “Any questions?” The session immediately became lively as the group discussed the upcoming expeditions. As soon as Dashel felt that all the concerns immediately apparent to the group had been asked and answered, he ended the session and let everyone go. As Dashel went to leave, Inoure Vao pulled him aside. “A moment, Dashel.” Dashel stopped and joined her as the other’s filed past. Once they passed, Vao asked him, “How do you seal this compartment against those you do not want others to overhear?” Dashel said nothing, just pressed a series of controls on the rooms control panel. Immediately the room underwent the same transformation experienced earlier with Kala. “Only Kala can overhear us now and unless this conversation concerns her, my trust in her remains complete.” Vao looked at him a moment, then continued, “I know you have been watching Green and Sivao and their relationship. Do you think that we need to confront them over it?” Dashel thought about the question for a moment before replying. “Have you seen something?” Concern came through his voice at the mention of the burgeoning relationship between the two Padawans. To the best of his knowledge or Kala’s awareness, nothing overtly physical occurred between the two and since coming to Haruun Kal Dashel had endeavored to keep the young man too busy training and planning to allow the two more than a greeting in passing. “You and Luo spent years laboring to be Jedi according the code, absorbing and exploring the meanings of many of its tenants, absorbing the wisdom and maturing before you began a deep and mature relationship. Even now, the two of you measure yourselves closely according to the code while seeking to understand what exactly exists between the two of you. Kharjo and Alyssa do not.” “Agreed,” said Dashel, “but not enough to warrant the amount of concern your feeling.” Inoure Vao sat in a convenient chair while Dashel did the same. She looked at Dashel as he finished getting comfortable and then replied, “What do you know about what brought me to the Temple?” Dashel furrowed his brows as he searched his memory. “Little really. You and I achieved our status as Master’s in the Order long before we met and even then our contact mostly occurs during rare meetings in council chambers or in the temple hallways.” The Twi-lek Jedi Master looked at him a moment before saying anything further, “Like you, my Force sensitivity became known to the Jedi Order later in life, although not nearly as late as yours. I was closer to Alyssa’s age when I came to the temple.” Dashel listened and watched. He recognized the Jedi Master’s vulnerability at this moment. Someone or something haunted her from that time and its influence shattered the Master’s normal demeanor when she spoke. “My first years at the temple proved difficult. My life before coming to the temple did not prepare me for life here and my master did not understand or try to sympathize other than to tell me to find wisdom in the code, or at least that’s what I told myself then.” She turned, looked away but continued to speak. As she spoke, Dashel watched her reflection in the blank face of a monitor as tears formed in her eyes but failed to fall even as he filled himself with the force and extended his senses in her direction. “After two years as a Padawan, my Master allowed me to attend a social function with her. She met a young man there who charmed her and was halfway to winning her heart.” Dashel felt the blast of pain that came from her heart in the Force and heard the sound of it in her voice. His own heart hurt for her and he felt an instinctive need to reach out and to touch and comfort. He held back for no reason he understood. The reluctance did not stem from the Force or inhibition but existed and he trusted that his feeling in this matter mattered. “My Master eventually left the order to follow the young man whom eventually turned her to the Darkside and the teachings of the Sith, eventually taking her as an apprentice and lover.” One thought occurred to Dashel about what should be the fate for any Sith that played another in such a manner. Dashel let his emotions bleed into the Force even as Vao continued. As she did so, he realized Vao read the intent of his thoughts if not the actual thought. “Exactly. Meanwhile, I had been reassigned to another Master, one more sympathetic to a former courtesan who helped me adjust to life in the order. Eventually, I got to the point where my Master actually discussed my undergoing the trials.” A deep breath steadied Dashel as he listened. Many people knew might assume that they knew the course of this story, but a Jedi did not have that luxury. He waited patiently, knowing that an insight into the often enigmatic woman seemed to be near. “During a visit to Dantooine to meet with an artifact smuggler there whom contacted the order because he had obtained what he thought was a Sith holocron. We met as arranged. I examined the artifact and found it to be a Jedi holocron from an unknown Jedi Master named J’Kal al’Melli’i, or so the guardian claimed when I spoke with her.” Insight surged through Dashel even as he saw Vao close her eyes against what was coming. He held his question back but wrote the question down to avoid its loss. “On the way back to my ship with the Holocron, I turned a corner and ran directly into my first Master’s lover. With little warning, he attacked me in the streets of Dantooine in front of a dozen witnesses. I was a Padawan facing a Sith Lord whom I thought might hold information as to the location of my first Master.” She turned to face Dashel. Her eyes opened and now the tears flowed down her face as if talking about the pain somehow released what she long held back. Dashel knew that if the memory had not been already dealt with in an appropriate manner, than Inoure Vao would never have granted the rank of Master. Yet she sat in front of him with tears streaming down her face as she continued her tale. “I lost Dashel. He took the time and effort to thoroughly beat me, not even attempting to turn me. He just broke my body until every breath became torture and I honestly wanted to die. He never even drew his lightsaber. When he was done, he reached inside my robe and physically took the holocron from me. As I watched him walk away during what I thought was the last thing my eyes might see when I saw my former Master join him. With what strength I still I had I reached out through the Force and tried to get her to look my way.” As Dashel watched, Inoure Vao take a deep breath and steady herself against the pain of her memory. “She looked my way Dashel, and the despair on her face managed to break my spirit where that Sith’s beating failed. The beating he gave me broke her heart, broke her spirit in a way that his use of her love never could. Yet, even to my rapidly fading senses, she somehow clung to the light.” She paused and Dashel needed to know. Gently, he asked, “What happened Inoure?” “The gatekeeper of that holocron somehow projected herself in my mind and point blank asked me if I wanted to win or live. Something told me that living and thriving would be the far greater victory so I told her my choice. Dashel, she guided me to levels of the Force I have only seen a few Masters come close to and at rate faster than my body failed during its last breaths. Strength filled my body and as I stood up from the ground every wound healed near at the same instance or at least well enough that I knew I was no longer dying. The Sith turned around unable to fanthom how a Padawan suddenly obtained that level of Mastery in the Force and attempted to attack me a second time. Before he could, I shattered him. A single hard thrust with the Force simply caused him to turn to dust and blow away in the wind. I know what I did that Dashel yet I do not know how I did it.” His chair creaked as Dashel sat back contemplating Vao. He now understood her concern and reluctance about the relationship between Kharjo and Alyssa and thought he might have gained a clue concerning the history of the HRD he sometimes mistakenly thought of as a living person. “I remember falling back to the ground and someone caring for me,” said Vao When I awoke I was back on Gala, being cared for by a team of Jedi and non-Jedi healers around the clock. Only later would I learn that my second Master stayed near me the entire time, or at least as near as the healers would allow her to be. Through the Force, much Bacta, and months of rehabilitation I managed to walk into the Council chambers to stand before the assembled Council and officially become a Jedi Knight at the hand of my first master.” Inoure paused and Dashel waited. In his mind, he contemplated the irreverent and untimely thought of how many men spent their lives waiting on women. “She died soon after, the despair of losing he r only love and her failure to intervene to stripping her of her will to live and some say of the Force itself.” Looking into her now dry eyes, Dashel said simply, “Luo and I have had more than a couple discussion about the dangers our love poses to us as Jedi. We are taking this thing very slowly for a reason, so slow it actually strains my patience to a degree.” He paused, searching for the right words, “Yet, as you say, our Padawans have little of the same experience or caution to guide them and so we must try and do what is right for them. Not a position I would ever have thought to find myself in and not one I would recommend to anyone.” Now she waited, her mien returned to its normal set betrayed only by the tracks of dried tears. “Denying them the relationship will not work. We both know that forcibly separating them would elevate the love to something untouchable and noble and give them cause to defy us. Our only real choice is to allow this relationship to run its course and do our best to help through whatever aftermath lies in the future whether that is a broken heart or true love.” He paused, listening to the echo of his own words and then adding to them. “Kala told me just recently that for the first time that Kharjo’s vulnerability and youth elevated him from being a Padawan to me to something of a son. I suddenly find myself being a parent in some ways as well as being a Master to a Padawan.” Leaning forward he kept eye contact with her while saying, “And now you are too. Like me, you are finding it difficult that being a Master means acknowledging how little you really know.” Inoure Vao’s personality reasserted itself after his last words and the self-possessed and powerfully feminine woman he knew came back, the moment of vulnerability gone but never forgotten as she reached a decision. “So we wait, we guide, and we let them find their own strength. Dashel, I can’t figure out if your being an ass or you actually know what you are talking about.” Lowering her eyes, she asked, “Now tell me what did you find so import that you wrote it down there. It had to be something important else you would never have been that rude.” He held up the pad where he had written “J’Kal al’Melli’I” and written the name separating out the relevant symbols in the way of a Chiss core name, “J - Kal a-- l al’Melli’I” and afterward, “Kala”. Inoure Vao looked at him, opened her mouth and closed it before speaking again. “Dashel, if that’s true…” she trailed off as they shared the same thought. “Yeah.” So lost in his contemplations of the past was Dashel, that when the door to Inoure Vao’s sanctum finally opened, it took him a moment to realize his Padawan had stood and with awe written completely across his face approached her with the box containing the corsage he had shopped extensively for and just picked up earlier that day. Every line in the boy’s body radiated a combination of that awe, a mixture of fear, and a complete loss of any sense of where he was, so absorbed was he in the transformation Padawan Green achieved in the formal gown she picked with the help of Inoure Vao. Vao followed next, looking sternly at Alyssa and Kharjo before favoring Dashel with a grin that both dazzled and worried him. She might be worried about the relationship, but he she found enjoyment in this moment. What, exactly, she found so enjoyable he only understood far later. Even as he registered the grin, he rose from his seat to greet Maevis Luo and like his Padwan, wore a complete look of stunned disbelief. Maevis Luo stood before him, wearing an off the shoulder dress that discreetly clung to her curves while leaving her room to move and breath. The silver dress somehow managed to shimmer and darken with her every breath, yet he ignored all that, losing himself in her eyes and the smile that only added to the beauty of the woman he saw revealed before him. Dashel found himself standing still, the corsage and very old and very expensive circlet in its velvet case forgotten as he drank in the sight of her. It was Padawan Green asking Kharjo if the corsage he held in his hands was for her that helped him remember what the two boxes were for and had him crossing the floor to her. He heard the young man stutter out, “I..I got this for you. I hope it’s okay.” The boy’s voice trailed off and Dashel knew the Padawan wore a grin a kilometer wide as Alyssa Green thanked him. He heard and felt Inoure Vao move forward and offer to pin the flower to her Padawan’s dress rather than trust Kharjo to do so without drawing blood or Green who he felt to be as nervous as her date. As for himself, he managed to get the corsage out of its box without damaging the delicate flowers and very gently pin the thing to her dress without drawing blood. She laughed a little as she adjusted the flower saying simply that it was a little crooked. Then she held out her hands and received the second box as he offered it to her wordlessly, not trusting his voice at this moment. Some part of him thought himself to be acting very foolishly for a Jedi Master, yet he silenced the voice knowing that behaving as a Jedi Master did not a Jedi Master make. Kharjo, Alyssa Green, and Inoure Vao joined Dashel in watching Maevis Luo opening the obviously expensive box whose contents Dashel had kept them ignorant of. The circlet inside, made of woven Aurodium and Orichalum with a single blue pontite crystal in the center that seemed to gently radiate with the Force, looked to be ancient and she looked to Dashel in stunned disbelief completely missing the matching and far more modern ear rings in the same box. “Its been in my family for nearly 22 generations. Would you wear it tonight?” Once all four recovered themselves, they made their way out passed more than a few stunned and disbelieving Jedi to the ground transportation waiting outside.

The meditations of a Jedi Master can and often do encompass the entire galaxy, taking them through a myriad of possible outcomes for any events or people the Jedi chooses to focus on. Dashel Illioni found himself viewing everyone inside his ship as it sped away from the EV, as clearly as if he sat in the room with them. Master Vao had Alyssa Green doing a one-handed hand stand, completely and totally extended upright while Vao stood on top of the young woman’s feet. Around them floated several of the heavier objects within the GrassTiger’s cargo bay, and Vao calmly lectured Alyssa upon the nature of the Living Force. Dashel saw the sweat soaking through the young woman’s workout clothes and felt her exhaustion, determination and the concentration she maintained despite the demands of her physical position and her master’s demands. He appreciated the effort that the Vao put into training the young woman, recognizing one of Master Yoda’s favorite lessons being inflicted on his ship. The scene shifted, and Dashel found himself looking at Pieta Shavir and young Dax keeping watch over Kharjo. He saw the two of them speaking calmly with each other and heard young Shavir ask Dax about her other brother. Dashel felt the pain pass over her features as Dax began telling her everything she knew about the Sith’s plans, including the plans in place to strike at Kharjo’s foundation, the temple and Jedi of Haruun Kal and detailed her involvements in what passed for the inner core of the Sith’s trusted advisors. Pauses in the tales and tensions during some segments left Dashel sure the young woman omitted some details, not because she was trying, but because of the pain she felt about them. Healing her mind promised to take far longer than her body, time he determined she would receive not matter what happened to him or Kharjo. The scene again shifted and eventually his sight settled on the meditation room he and Luo currently sat across from each other. He found himself quite disquieted from being able to view himself from outside of his own body and from behind Luo. The view lingered a moment before he felt a rush that pulled him directly towards Maevis Luo. Dashel, even as he rushed forward, attempted to resist the pull towards her but found himself unable to do so. He felt the presence of fear and set that fear aside, determined to face whatever pulled him towards her with the courage, dignity and calm of a Jedi Master. His journey ended inside a reel of emotional images Maevis Luo kept trying to block, but exerted a disruptive effect on her concentration, steeling her ability to find the focus necessary of a Jedi Master. He focused on the images and saw the entirety of relationship from their initial encounter when they were Padawans, she a very young girl and he already middle aged, having served in the Trianii rangers for years before his Force talents became known. A blur of images passed, fond memories he never realized she kept of him. A stunned feeling entered his soul as he realized that what he saw as Maevis Luo’s crush on him never went away as a proper crush should, instead blossoming into something far more adult as time went by despite the young woman seeing other, more age appropriate peers. He knew that some of the relationships created close emotional ties, so at no point did he see her as fixated on him, but the depth of her emotions towards him caused him to pause and examine his thoughts on her. He decided that the two of them needed a small lake on Triani in the near future so that he could explain how he felt about her with as little words as possible. Dashel Illioni realized that somewhere along the line the decade and half between them became completely irrelevant and that something beautiful lay in their future. Telling her that he understood made him wish to explain his heart right now so that they might be able to move on together. At that thought, a warm feeling began to infuse the force from Maevis Luo, but before he knew how to interpret that new sensation, he felt himself being pulled towards Kharjo again. About half way there, Dashel felt the pull halted for a moment before resuming. In that pause, he found himself face to face with Kharjo’s ancestor, Jaqen whom looked at him with wise eyes whose depths spoke of wisdom earned through a life well lived. “Greetings,” said the figure as the two looked at each other. “You know who I am and while I only know of you through my descendant, I come at great need. Kharjo Shavir stands within a nexus of his own making, a place that mirrors his emotions, and in which he might stay forever if he wishes it. I will guide you to it and hold open the way home, but I cannot enter there and hold open the door and be there.” The figure smiled at Dashel a moment even as Dashel waited patiently for him to speak. Something wonderful was occurring and the Jedi Master knew enough to be patient and learn so that he understood before acting. “Walk with me towards where Kharjo stays and I will explain, but first a word about the one you call Luo.” Dashel focused his will upon the specter, trying to relay what he thought of the spirit’s intrusion on that particular matter. “Boy,” said Jaquen with a chuckle in his voice, “giving unwanted advice is what we get best at once we get older as you should well know.” Dashel found himself amused by that suggestion and proceeded to go with the specter even as Jaqen spoke about Luo. “You’ve seen into that young woman’s memories and emotions and you know your own. Love her while the two of you can. She needs your love to open her future and you need her for what she can give her.” The spirit of Jaqen again chuckled at the puzzlement Dashel felt. “You’ll understand someday, but for now, take that girl in your arms and give her your heart.” A moment after that, the spirit beckoned towards what appeared to be a small window in the force through which Dashel saw Kharjo wrapping his arms around a young Cathari girl. Dashel marveled at how the spirit so effortless moved them here and at its knowledge of his relationship with Maevis Luo. Dashel turned towards the spirit and said, “His youngest sister?” The spirit nodded and gently pushed Dashel through the window calling out as he did so, “The way back will be here as long as you need it, but remember, only Kharjo can find it for the both of you. It’s his place after all. Dashel fell through the window and realized suddenly that he indeed fell through the sky of Kharjo’s reality. Exerting his will, he summoned the Force to him and floated softly to the sand a scant pair of meters from where his Padawan and the young girl clung to each other. He watched as her tears suddenly dried up and she wiggled free from her brother’s grasp to race across the sand towards him. She stopped only after running into him full force. Surprise washed across his face at the young girl’s complete trust of him, but he wrapped his arms around her and listened as she spoke. Every word came to him clearly despite her face buried in his robes. “Knew you’d come, knew sending holo was right. Mom and Dad kept yelling at me for wanting to talk to you and Kharjo but I was right you would know how ‘portent my dreams were and come see me and now you are here and Kharjo is too and I won’t have to see bad Cathar anymore.” Dashel looked towards Kharjo, his eyes wide as he realized that the girl though this was really happening. Then he smiled, remembering that to the very youngest of children, the difference between reality, dreams, and imagination did not exist and with Force sensitive children things became even more interesting. Such was the moment Dashel found himself even as he met his Padawan’s eyes. “Hello Padawan,” said Dashel, “I think it’s time you and I talk about everything that has happened throughout our time together, especially the events on Coruscant. Dashel gave his Padawan a very short, very concise talk about the events on Coruscant, leaving out little of his thoughts on the matter and included suggestions for improving his responses the next time the Padawan found himself in such a situation, his suspicion that Kharjo had come under the influence of the Force empty space created by an Ysalamiri, and the pride he felt towards the young man and that the fact that his older sister, Pieta Shavir currently attended his inert form in the GrassTiger’s sick bay. “She is quite the Jedi Knight you know despite having taken the longer road and having spent some time in the service corps.” Before his Padawan could ask any questions, Dashel held up his hand towards Kharjo and said, “Let me finish.” He paused and said, “Yes, you can see her when you get us out of here. You should know I felt it necessary to protect them because I think your brother will strike at those around you, from your family to the people of Haruun Kal to convince you to join him in the Dark Side because of their importance to you. No, I do not know why he would do that or how he was turned from the good man you told me about but young Dax travels with us and asking her might help us find out. Perhaps she heard or overheard something that might give us a clue. It might even be possible to turn him back from the Dark Side. Finally, that technique you use to remember so much information, you are going to teach that to anyone on this ship whose interested. It looks pretty useful.” Dashel took a breath, feeling the surge of emotion coming from his Padawan and as he was about to calm him stopped and looked around. The surge of emotion was indeed mirrored in this place, and Dashel found the three of them in the eye of a massive storm. He looked up and saw the way home. “Padawan,” he said, trying to be heard over the rising storm, “look up through the eye of this storm and you can see the way home. One problem, you will have to keep your emotions quiet enough to bring the way home to us or us to it, whichever you chose.” The wind buffeted against him harder and Dashel looked down at Kharjo’s sister and understood about the second surge and smiled towards his Padawan, pride infusing his features at the boy’s need to protect his sister, someone he loved so much that he could let go of his own emotions to protect. Dashel knelt and looked directly into the girl’s eyes now wide with fear at being left alone. “No, little one, you are never alone. Your brother and I are going to find and help the bad Cathar that keeps entering your dreams. Remember, we are all connected and that with love, we will always find each other.” Turning back towards Kharjo, Dashel said, “Padawan, when you chose to go home, we all go home. Once home, we will do everything we can to help you become a Jedi Knight and find your brother. Hiding here, however perfect this place may seem, is not the way of a Jedi Knight. It’s a good place to visit, but not a good place to stay while there are others out there meaning to harm the ones we love, the loved ones of others, or anyone else anywhere in the galaxy. We are Jedi and we stand against evil to our last breath, together shoulder to shoulder in the now and with the Jedi of the Past.” In the Cargo bay of the ship, both Master Vao and Alyssa Green found themselves drawn towards someplace through the force in their meditations. A very confused Master Vao landed next to Dashel, floating down much as Dashel with her robes fluttering around her and once she touched down, turning towards him with a bemused look upon her face. “So this is Kharjo’s harbor, very nice. How did we come here? Last thing I remembered Alyssa and I were in the cargo bay enjoying a meditation session.” Dashel looked upon her wryly knowing what kind of meditation session the two had been enjoying before continuing, “I think that might have something to do with both with my need to reassure Kharjo and his thoughts about what I meant.” He had just finished speaking when a loud howling filled the peaceful air around them. It was immediately followed by the sound of flesh slapping noisily against water and a few moments later by the sound of loud sputtering as a figure rose from the sea like some primordial goddess. Alyssa Green stood in knee deep water, attempting to brush her long hair back, soaked and heavy as it was with sea water. Small drops fell from it and flared golden as the sun shone through them. She now wore the tiniest of swimsuits, leaving a great deal of flesh exposed as well as revealing a great red streak that stretched from her knees to her face, evidently the product of a massive body flop into the ocean. She saw Kharjo first and went to run towards him when the pain of that body flop registered with her and she fell to her knees and shouted, “Ouch that hurt!” Bending her head, Alyssa looked down and saw both the streak from the flop and what she was wearing. She looked up, a look of confusion on her face turning rapidly to embarrassment as she spotted the two Masters just beyond Kharjo. A massive flush turned her red and stinging face an even brighter crimson. Vao held her hand up, “Alyssa, this is Kharjo’s safe harbor. Just relax and hopefully we can sort this out when we get home.” A rustling in the trees behind them indicated yet another arriving individual, but before they figured out whom it was, Vao said conversationally to Alyssa, “Nice swimsuit by the way. A little skimpy for swimming but I am pretty sure that’s not why you are wearing it.” She turned towards Dashel and smirked. Dashel got his surprise a moment later as Maevis Luo walked out of the jungle behind them wearing a black bodysuit. He tilted his head and openly admired her for the moment it took her to cross the sands at a run and hug him. As she hugged him, she whispered into his ear, “What’s so important about a lake anyway?" She pulled him away and impishly whispered, “Your emotions do you credit, but Jedi Masters should know how to bury them deep.” Luo turned away from Dashel, looked over to Kharjo and said, “So this is where you go. I think I want to know so much more, this place could help to treat so many.” While the five Jedi resided inside Kharjo’s sanctuary, the GrassTiger sped away from the Eternal Vigilance and once clear of Coruscant’s gravity well, entered hyperspace on a course for Haruun Kal.

[bold]Current[/bold] Dashel felt the strain of his roles as host, diplomat, and Jedi Master far more than anyone in the room knew. Even as Dax spun her tail, he stretched out with the force and monitored the emotions of everyone in the room, but even so missed some subtle clues coming from his Padawan concerning Kharjo’s emotional and mental state. Perhaps his own emotions interfered, or the force felt better served by Kharjo’s leaving the room in a state that Dashel felt resembled a mindless, empty shell of his normally attentive and bright Padawan. He started to go after the young man, possibly to say something when his own intuition or the Force let him know that the best course involved simply giving Kharjo space and time to work out his feelings. His emotions rise at the thought of not going to the boy, then he recognized that intuition that rooted his feet came from a higher portion of his consciousness than the one that sought to shield and protect the vulnerable and inexperienced youth from the problems plaguing the galaxy yet knew that doing s to mean only delaying the time where Kharjo’s youth must firmly and he must take the first real steps towards being a Jedi Knight. The thought of the consequences of that train of thought played themselves out again in Dashel’s mind and he shuddered, feeling all too sure that Kharjo faced many days ahead whose pressures might make this little occasion simple by comparison and that the boy’s current level of training swept away the possibility of Kharjo thriving in the difficult life of an Itinerant Jedi Knight. While keeping his Force sense focused on the mental, physical and emotional state of his Padawan, Dashel turned to the three men on the couch. “Gentlemen,” he said, “my Padawan is still relatively new to the life of a Jedi. Today’s events would try even a Master such as me; he will be okay after a chance to rest and regain his energy. Unless you have further questions for Miss Dax, I will need to see to my Padawan and finish preparing my ship for a journey. Sue Barnes’s spoke first, calmly despite his girlish pitched voice and with a demeanor so stern that Dashel wandered if the giant meant to glower frighteningly or if something was rousing the big man’s ire. “Who to serve on Ryloth, Master Jedi?” said Barnes The Noghri spoke before Dashel could, “Jedi trust Force, we serve Jedi, we trust and all work out.” Dashel did not hear anything further, as his senses, extended to monitor the status of his Padawan felt Kharjo wall himself in so completely that the Force did not reach the young man. With his senses maxed out he took an emotional hit when Alyssa ran to his Padawans side. He felt her tears, fears, and a swirl of other emotions for a few seconds before being hit by the very determined and blunt aura emanating from Master Vao even before she stormed up the embarkation ramp and said, “We need to talk,” punctuating each work by stabbing him with lacquered nails whose deep blue polish glittered with sensor strands. Normally people simply ignored the silver strands, but to Dashel whom had helped her design and install the things knew what to look for. After looking at her hands and noticing the nail polish, Dashel felt his gaze follow up her arms and to the short, stylish jacket she wore, to the black sweater which outlined her curves just right without revealing anything and then he met her eyes and forgot all about his thoughts of a moment ago. In her eyes, he felt the presence of a Jedi Master and a woman mature and secure in body, mind, and spirit, that coupled with her status as a Jedi Master and a strong, independent personality made for a formidable opponent on any battlefield of any type, but when coupled with the determination of a mother protecting her young made for a blending that brooked little argument. He did not yield an inch despite certain instincts that felt he needed to do so. The three men on the couch certainly understood the signals being let off by Inaure Vao and all three very silently left the room and proceeded down the ramp, none desiring to face off with a determined woman of aroused feminine instincts that spelled trouble for whomever she warranted her attentions. Descending the ramp proved even more dangerous, as both the Knight Luo and Padawan Greene raised their gazes towards them and they felt the weight of those gazes, dangerous with grief and concern wash over them and provide them with additional impetus to be on the nearest shuttle descending to Coruscant. All three moved as one once they found the proper shuttle and proceeded to board for the trip to Coruscant’s surface with utter silence among the three until about halfway through the descent and then it was a young CoreSec officer whom broke the silence. The admiration in his voice as he spoke brought the attention of several people on the flight, including a few Jedi despite the near whisper at which he spoke. “Gentlemen, that was a Jedi, a lady, and woman wrapped all in one. That was a beautiful sight.” His voice trailed off in a sigh as he gazed out the shuttles windows, lost in his own thoughts and trying desperately to remember every detail of the site he had seen. One of the older Knights on the shuttle whom had seen the trio of women headed to the GrassTiger and whom had spent some time on Haruun Kal spoke up, respect in his voice as well and a mingling of something from long ago, “That was Master Inaure Vao and your right, she really is beautiful in so many ways. Just don’t be a fool around her; she has very little patience where outright stupidity is concerned.” The Noghri turned towards the Jedi and asked, “What would happen if someone she cared for was hurt in some way?” His tone indicated he knew the answer, but needed to share some bit of mirth. In a very serious tone, the same knight said, “Even Master Yoda would find somewhere else to be.” “Sue Barnes” grinned and nearly choking on his barely controlled mirth, said, “Three on One, massive shipwreck ahead!” and then collapsed in his seat, his high pitched laughter reverberating through the shuttles cabin until everyone started laughing. They all started laughing harder when the Noghri, displaying his species traditional taciturnity explained what they had seen. Onboard the GrassTiger Dashel found a way to deflect Vao’s determination and keep from being flayed from head to toe. He gently cupped her elbow with his hand and quietly agreed with her while gently guiding her to the same security room that he had just occupied with Kharjo. At first she resisted his gentle pressure until understanding flashed across her face that he wanted to hold the discussion somewhere they could ensure no one overheard anything. “Yes, we do, and not just about Kharjo. Just what are your plans concerning Maeve?” As the two closed the security door behind them, Vao noted Dashel’s use of Knight Luo’s first name. She knew Dashel’s reputation as a knight who was very conscious and considerate of other’s and for him to use the first name of another with that tone meant something. She felt a conscious thrill of excitement for Maeve’s future with the Triani and the click of the security door behind them sounded like the future being trumpeted. Earlier Knight Luo watched Master Vao all but charge up GrassTiger’s boarding ramp, determination marking her every step as she proceeded towards the ship’s interior. For a moment she wondered if Master Dashel might need medical attention afterward, then realized that Padawan Green sat with Padawan Kharjo. She stood still for a moment, sympathy coursing through her heart at Greene’s plight even as she realized that in many ways it mirrored her own relationship with Dashel, save that where Green and Kharjo where nearly the same age, a decade and a half separated her and Dashel and despite her growing up from the coltish and sometimes undisciplined teen she had been when they first met, remained a firm barrier between them. She felt that if that had been the only barrier, than she might have more hope. In her bed or in quiet moments when she though no one else could see, she sometimes cried over everything that constantly separated them, from their respective ranks, the code itself, or the long missions that took her from home and his seemingly endless wandering about the galaxy, all of which conspired to keep a vast chasm between them that constantly tore her hear apart. Of more immediate concern and in an area of her life in which she felt confident in her abilities, was the plight of the Padawan named Kharjo that many at the Temple silently cheered for when they found out that he had found a Master. She constantly felt amazed that such a young Jedi could pull so many people into his orbit and be oblivious about it. Rumors constantly swirled through the Temple about that particular aspect of the boy, with only thoughtful silence on the part of many of the Master’s or in the case of Erath, a very gruff dismissal and admonition to keep focused on their duties and studies. One particularly persistent Knight ended being called before Master Erath and found a new assignment supervising the more intractable Padawans and Hopefuls cleaning the filters on the Temple’s air scrubbers. All of it added a mystery and allure to the teenager that went with his slightly wild and good looks and drove many of the teen Padawans to tears trying to attract his attention and garnered the appraising looks of several of the older women whom should have known better. By the time she changed course and closed the distance from Alyssa and Kharjo, her entire demeanor changed. She went from being an attractive woman with a cool demeanor that allowed her to move about in public without notice to a medical professional, a cool, competent healer whose demeanor simultaneously soothed anxious patients and their families and organized and controlled everything from battlefield triage centers to quarantine zones at the same time. She knelt before Kharjo and Alyssa and immediately began a routine perfected over her years of training as a healer. A medical device pulled from her purse quickly scanned and reported on his vital signs, all of which appeared to be in the low-normal range, as if somehow all the tension and worry that this Padawan carried about had been purged from his mind and body. The device in her hands indicated his brainwaves where in a conscious but resting state almost as if he was day dreaming or meditating, but something about the way everything read put her into her mind that he had entered a healing trance. She frowned at Kharjo, wondering if Dashel had instructed his Padawan in that discipline or if he had some natural talent before registering that Alyssa was speaking to her. The sadness and desperation in the girl’s voice indicated someone whom had deep emotions for Kharjo and when Luo looked at her, she knew she had found someone in nearly the same situation as her. “Knight Luo, there is something about where Kharjo has gone you should know.” It took a good deal of time, but eventually Greene assured Maevis that Kharjo would indeed be okay, the two sat vigil over him. Alyssa sat next to him, her arm around his shoulders while Luo sat opposite her. The two spoke of many things, starting and ending with Kharjo and Dashel the two women setting aside age and rank to simply talk. The two of them eventually reached a lull in conversation and for a few moments sat watching spacecraft coming and going within the EV's launch bay. One craft, a small aged star fighter entered the bay and both pilot and an equally old R2 unit exited the craft. The two searched around and eventually locked their eyes and sensors upon the GrassTiger and walked across the bay. Their path did not take them directly to the ship, rather they kept detouring around the various parked and landing craft. Eventually and completely unnoticed the pilot and the R2 unit walked up to where Maevis and Alyssa sat talking. Had either been paying attention to her approach, they might have seen the young Jedi pilot removing her flight helmet to reveal the face of a Cathari female whom bore a very heavy familial resemblance to the young man they sat vigil around. “I remember when I did that,” she said without preamble. “It’s one of the reasons I spent so many years in the Service Corp before finding a master and becoming a Jedi.” Both Luo and Green noticed the newcomer then and both rose from where they sat beside Kharjo's sleeping form. The three women stared at each other for a moment before Alyssa broke the silence. “Knight Luo and Padawan Greene at your service. How may we help you?” said Greene her tone indication she was brimming with more than a little curiosity. “Knight Pieta Shavir,” said the Triani female, “and I believe that's my brother Kharjo you seem to be sitting beside. Can any of you tell me where to find his Master, Master Dashel Illioni? I placed a call to him earlier today, yet he still has not replied. Then I received rather cryptic orders from the same Master, telling me to head to the Jedi Temple at Haruun Kal.” She shrugged her shoulders as if that was little more than the life a Jedi, then continued with a slight smile, “I called the EV to see if Master Dashel's ship was still here and received a confirmation. I wanted to ask what the order was about and receive any additional information he saw fit to give me.” A quick pause, and she admitted in a rather hushed tone, “and I wanted the chance to see my little brother again. It’s been years,” she finished quietly. Dashel's voice sounded from behind all three of them, “Knight Shavir, it seems your family genetics and the Force keep conspiring to produce members highly sensitive to the Force. So far, three of you chose either to join the Sith or Jedi, with one still too young to join the Jedi. As for the Sith, their methodologies vary too much to draw conclusions or make blanket statements about any individual at this time. We will talk later, but for now, gather your gear and board by ship. You will be joining us for the trip to Haruun Kal.” Dashel’s voice brooked no argument and Pieta knew that she would know more when Dashel deemed it necessary. Pieta stared up at the Triani Jedi as he descended down the ship's boarding ramp beside Master Vao to kneel before where Kharjo lay against the landing strut. She continued watching while Dashel extended his hand towards Kharjo for a moment, lightly touching the young Cathar upon the forehead and sank into the Force while the four women watched over them all. She could not read what he attempted to do through the Force, but that he was attempting to do something was apparent to all whom stood there. After a moment, he let go of the Force and turned to all three of them. “Kala told me that the GrassTigercan take off the moment we get aboard,” said Dashel. “We will keep a 24 hour watch going on Kharjo in the med bay until he wakes from his ‘meditation.’ As for the rest of your time, please understand that I allow no passengers on my ship. You all take a watch, as well as help with any necessary tasks during the trip to Haruun Kal.” Pieta looked over to Master Vao, trying to discern what Dashel’s fellow master felt about that pronouncement and discovered that Inaure Vao simply motioning her to board the ship, apparently content to allow Dashel to take the lead. Dashel paused a moment before gently lifting Kharjo with the Force and heading into his ship. “Knight Luo, please join me in getting this Padawan into the sick bay. The rest of you, please find a place on the ship and prepare for immediate take-off. The two walked aboard, gently levitating Kharjo between them until the young man rested as comfort-ably as possible in a med bay couch. He looked at the young man a moment, care furrowing his eyebrows and a definite hint of worry playing across his face and through his soul. Thanks to Kala’s earlier revelation, Dashel knew his attachment stemmed from Kharjo’s apparent helplessness in the face of an uncaring galaxy, but everyday brought him closer to understanding the young man, and thus being able to mentor his path to becoming a Jedi. He sighed, resigned, proud, yet saddened by the knowledge that the young man would one day be a Jedi Knight in his own right. As Dashel reflected, Luo moved around the med bay, cinching a lap belt around Kharjo, adjusting and calibrating various monitoring devices to display the boy’s vitals, her bustle indicating a professionalism and surety within her chosen field, yet once Dashel finished his reflections and concentrated on just her, he thought he detected an underlying tension that Kharjo’s current condition failed to warrant. “Luo,” said Dashel once he realized how useless the last of her actions had become, “stop.” Luo looked up, then quickly ducked away, something on her face speaking of things Dashel barely understood. Even with a galaxy’s worth of experiences, the Triani master found it impossible to interpret what he saw there. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking. Whatever he might have said, was lost in its birth when Luo looked up at him. Her composition cracked and he saw something there that quickly reaching out with the Force quickly confirmed. Jedi Knight Maevis Luo felt fear, complete and utter and that fear existed because of him. He tilted his head, searching for the reason why when he felt the reason in his soul and through the Force. “Luo,” he started again, “are you still planning to read to me while I’m in a bacta tube?” Dashel waited, laughter lightening the concern in his eyes as Luo kept staring at him, her gaze growing both harder and more desperate with each passing moment. His sally met a complete silence, and the tangle of emotions he sensed actually grew more complicated as doubt, confusion and anger added to her pathos, causing her body to actually began shaking with tension rocketing through her and Dashel knew that failing to find the right words for a third time promised an explosion of feminine anger that he had observed throughout his travel but never truly experienced for himself. He decided, for various reasons, that such a display was not something he wished to experience. He figured the only thing worse than Luo exploding like that would be if it was a Sith Lady exploding like that. The thought stunned him, never before had he thought so poignantly about Luo the individual. Always before, always between them lay the Jedi Code and the behaviors expected of Master and Knight, the gulf separating them further widened by the difference in the ages that the quiet passing of years finally made entirely irrelevant. He shivered with that thought despite being a Jedi Master, instinct overriding higher intellect for a moment. Quickly composing himself, he focused his thoughts and knew what to do despite never having felt the need to comfort another in any capacity beyond that of a friend or counselor. A quiet voice interrupted the tableau from the med bays door. In the door stood Dax, eyes wide at what she witnessed between Dashel and Luo and a little sad at interrupting at the wrong moment between the two. Her newfound quasi freedom and years under Kharjo's brother gave an insight into the wonder of two people falling for each other. "You left a message for me, Healer Luo, telling me to see you whenever I could. I came as soon as I could." "Dashel," said Luo in a voice full of restrained emotion, "I need to see Miss Dax for an examination. You will need to step outside while I do so." By the time Luo finished, the emotion left her voice and she returned to being the professional healer, capable and in charge of herself and her responsibilities. "Come," said Luo to Dax, "there is a second exam room we can use so that we have some privacy. " Dashel fought down a sense of loss, his emotions awhirl with what had passed between the two of them. As he watched Luo leave, he knew that if he wanted, if he let down the barrier he kept between them then something wonderful waited. Composing himself, he vowed that when the two of them were back on Haruun Kal that he would spend as much time as he could find with her. Still, he found his heart heavy with sadness at an opportunity missed with her. Dashel took a seat beside Kharjo and started talking to his Padawan as if the young man might hear him despite the state he lay in. "Padawan, my ship has never carried so many people before. Never before has so much life resided on board and I can't say that I want to go back to the long silences I grew accustomed to while wandering the stars and we've just barely left the EV. Your master needs to make a change in his life and for those who know me, it’s going to be a big one." Dashel smiled a moment at his own selfishness and then realized that something in him recognized the truth in his own voice. His next meditation session would be very interesting. Turning his mind towards Kharjo and began speaking again once he wrestled his thoughts toward his Padawan. "When you awake, we need to talk about a great many things. I think we will talk about your day on Coruscant first of all. You made some great decisions, some bad ones but overall you did pretty well for a young man barely beginning his time as a Padawan. Kala copied some footage for me from the fracas on the Senate plaza and after review, it seems you took the one of the better options you had. Perhaps not the best one, that would have been to quietly surrendering and attempting to find a way to get a message to Kala or myself concerning what was happening. In short, you would have helped by gathering knowledge about your brother and his intentions." Dashel smiled before continuing. That's something a Jedi might have done, but dwelling on the past is something Jedi do not do. We learn from it, but never dwell on history." He straightened Kharjo's robe slightly, noticing as he did so the aura of peace the young man seem to hold about his person. As he had done on the EV's flight deck, Dashel shared that peaceful feeling and sent a feeling with the Force towards his Padawan along their bond to gently and wordlessly let Kharjo know that he was needed. Withdrawing his hand and letting go of the Force, Dashel continued, "You, however, have just begun training and acting as you did was exactly the best thing you could have done so." Dashel sensed a presence from the hallway outside the med bay, one that was not Luo or Dax but hesitated in nearly the same spot as Dax had and brimmed with the Force. "Come in Knight Sivao," said Dashel. "I expect you have a great many questions for me and this is as good time as any." The hesitation ended and Knight Sivao entered the room. "I am sorry Master, I didn't mean to interrupt." Dashel said nothing, merely indicating with a shake of his head that the interruption was a trifling thing. "Master," started Sivao formally, "how is my brother?" "Pretty good," said Dashel knowing she meant his progress towards being, not his current status. That status was displayed above his head in both plain Basic and with more detail geared towards medical professionals and she was the Padawans sister. Some things never changed, no matter how much a Jedi might try to, not that he felt that they should. The order, according to his studies of the records from before the great purge was a better place when people had the ability to form relationships or not as they chose even if that choice made being dedicated to the order that much more difficult. "Master Erath wanted him sent to the service corps until I came along. His stated reason consistently remained that Kharjo simply failed to connect with his fellow students at all, failed to understand people well enough to be able to accept that people do things that are not very nice. Erath felt concern that Kharjo might break at the first sign of trouble." Dashel met her eyes directly and held her gaze as he spoke, "I am pleased to say it took an entire day of struggles to break him. The funny part is, I thought I sent him to a juvenile center to interact with other children his own age." Dashel shook his head, even for a Jedi Kharjo's day seemed to be unreal. "So what happens? Someone attempts to kidnap him, he leaps off of Senate plaza towers, gets rescued by an Ysalamari toting Mandolorian, finds out his brother is a Sith, comes back to the GrassTiger and finds one of his kidnappers is safe and asking for sanctuary. He then gives it to her and finding himself overwhelmed retreats into meditation or at least a similar state." Dashel chuckled, even as he spoke he understood the truth of what he said. "Yes, he's doing damned good." Knight Sivao took Kharjo's hand and with tears streaming quietly down her face. "The last time I saw him, he was so small, barely toddling but already determined beyond what anyone being should be. Now he’s your Padawan and being made to shoulder a Jedi's burden so early." Dashel said nothing, only nodding in her direction. "It’s going to get more difficult, even harder on him before he becomes a knight, that's the nature of our order." She sat quietly, absorbing the peace along with Dashel. For his part, Dashel felt a moment coming in the Force and that he was in the right place at the right time. So he sat, waiting, enjoying the calm of the moment. The galaxy, of course, entertained other ideas. Even as he began a series of mental exercises designed to relax the body and mind, he felt the presence of Master Vao and Padawan Greene outside of the med bay. He stood and motioned to Pieta to stand as well, handing over their chairs to Padawan Greene to stow away. When she returned, she found to her amazement that the small room now contained the ship's entire complement, all crowded around Kharjo's bed. Dashel wondered if his Padawan knew how many people now focused on his well being as well as supporting him in his journey to becoming a Jedi. All of them stood quietly, their thoughts focused on Kharjo, worrying about one of their own, a family gathered to bring a loved one home. From outside the room, Luo's voice piped up. “Miss Dax, after examining you and sampling your blood, I can target the particular virus used to infect you. We can cure now, after which the your body will naturally flush the capsules from your body.” The Jedi in the room felt a palpable change come over Dax. Giving a person hope can electrifying them, but show them that their hope and work will be rewarded in a positive way and joy will infuse their entire being. Dax positively glowed at the news and turned to hug the nearest occupant in the room. Alyssa Green found her vigil and worry over Kharjo interrupted by a joyfully crying Dax. Smiles broke out among the Jedi at the joy that Dax displayed. Dax for her part, reacted by letting go of Alyssa, hugging each of the Jedi present in the room. When she came to Maevis Luo, Dax collapsed into the Knight's arms completely, tears flowing down her face unashamedly and onto Luo's robes. The healer held the Zeltron girl gently, almost tenderly, supporting her weight entirely until the girl got her legs under her again. Once the girl wept herself out, Luo continued speaking. “Please understand that my examination turned up two other things. The scanners and the Force indicate that someone altered your physical age. We will begin curing the virus immediately, as well as a course of therapy with the Force will reverse the alterations to your physical age as well as removing the false memories implanted within your mind. There are enough Knights and Masters here to begin immediately and by the time we get to Haruun Kal, your virus will be cured. The false memories and false aging will need to continue on Haruun Kal.” The room went silent at Luo's pronouncement which allowed her to continue speaking uninterrupted, “Of course, you must realize that the cure for the aging will require you to serve the Jedi order for some time to make the cure permanent.” To ease the sudden fear radiating from Dax, Vao interrupted, “The form of that service will be determined with your input and only be implemented with your consent, subject to change as you need and with all due consideration.” “Kharjo must know,” came Greene's voice from beside the bed, “He must know the extant of his brother's crimes.” Vao and Dashel met each others eyes. Greene's pronouncement left them stunned, the young Padawan showing a maturity far beyond what anyone expected from her. Even more, the thinking clearly indicated someone capable of loving someone, yet able to move past her love for him and attempt to see the larger picture. That she could spoke volumes about her journey to becoming a knight. Dashel spoke up, “Padawan, thank you for the advice. Kharjo will indeed learn of this and he will be instrumental in investigating, finding, and eventually defeating his brother, whether form that defeat will take. In fact, I think that all of you will be involved in defeating this Sith Lord and helping Kharjo become a Jedi Knight if you choose to be, including you young Dax.” The Zeltran girl looked up at Dashel, a question forming in her eyes. A smile thrown in her direction removed any barriers and she immediately began babbling. Vao reached out and comforted her, gently easing the young girl until Dax ran out of breath. Once she did, Vao asked her if she knew anything else that might be of use to them. The young women spoke slowly and quietly, shivering as she did so. “He used to talk to me about how he planned to turn his brother once he found him. He always talked about sending his 'Elder's' to attack Haruun Kal to make Kharjo feel helpless and force him to turn.” All the Jedi tensed at that pronouncement and looked over at Kharjo, wondering if the young Padawan truly understood or could be prepared for the trials he would face in the person of his brother. Dashel vowed to give the young man every weapon, power, and scrap of knowledge he could for the battlefields ahead. “Master Vao,” said Dashel, “would you mind if Padawan Greene and Dax here take the current watch over Kharjo? Kala can keep us updated, watch over the two of them, and Luo will be moments away should something happen. Dax, you will be overseen by one of us until your rehabilitation is complete as well as oversight by Kala until as such time as you prove trustworthy. I mean no insult, but considering everything please understand.” Dax only nodded, understanding showing in her face without diminishing the hope that filled the Force and caused her to glow with renewed hope. “Masters and Knights,” said Dashel, “shall we go to the central lounge and discuss strategy and what we know?” Everyone of the indicated rank in the room silently filed from the room and headed towards the lounge. Once there, everyone found a seat and waited for someone to begin. The wait stretched on without break until Kala entered the room. She looked at the gathered group and said, “This makes a great picture, something that will make an entertaining story, about how four Jedi sat on acceleration couches unable to say a word or find a place to begin. Very nice and sure to bring comfort to the galaxy at large.” The sarcasm in her voice filled the room and caused the four to chuckle. “We call it meditating,” chuckled Pieta, “or if you wish, gathering and ordering our thoughts to avoid using too many words.” “Okay,” said Kala, “let me summarize everything you know or suspect. For hours she outlined the events, facts and deeds that formed the bulk of their knowledge. Once she finished with all the facts, Kala began to add her suspicians to what they knew. “One thing that keeps bothering me is the apparent link between Kharjo's family's ancestor, his brother, and everything that is occuring. Once Knight Luo found the disease, she downloaded a great deal of information about the disease. Several facts emerged from the file she downloaded. The virus bears markers indicating it originated on Cathar and was once refered to by Juhani when she was helping the Old Republic do research on the history of Cathar as the reason that the Cathar ever developed any civilization other than a nomadic one. The Old Republic researchers and Cathari never figured any time frame for when that happened.” Dashel indicated she needed to keep going when she paused as four brows furrowed in concentration, all of them seeing a connection but waiting for Kala' s independent confirmation. “Along comes Padawan Kharjo, dreaming of his ancestor, the same one that the Cathari call 'wise' and whom in their legends is credited with bringing a new civilization to them at the same time that Kharjo's brother utilizes the virus as a weapon.” Vao looked at Dashel, “You and Kharjo will need to head to Cathar after the dance on Haruun Kal and seek out everything you can about the boy's ancestor.” Dashel looked at her, nodding his head in confirmation. He looked around the room, and said, “If Dashel's brother wants to turn Kharjo, than we can expect a strike at Haruun Kal soon, in fact, he will probably strike at the governor's ball, to spread as much chaos and fear as possible and make Kharjo doubt himself further and the Jedi order. We will not allow that to happen.” He continued speaking, “Knight Sivau, you need to settle your family and explain to them what they need to know. You should probably also prepare them for a meeting with Kharjo and have your youngest sister tested for Force sensitivity. Luo, you should continue your treatment of young Dax and assist Knight Sivau with settling her family in. It might be wise to include Master Erath in all of this.” Knight Sivau spoke up, “Now, all we need is for my brother to finish his self-exile so that we can bring him up to speed and Master Dashel to continue his training. Haruun Kal From the governor's desk of Haruun Kal, the final invitations with the explicit instructions concerning the upcoming ball, including the limitations of allowed weaponry for each invitee, the number of representatives allowed for those individuals deemed dangerous by the Jedi. Unknown to the governor, the Jedi and the governor's security people, several additional names were added to the list by the printer under the influence of a hired force user of considerable dark intent. Every Senator of importance received and invitation, along with the the Jedi Kirlocca, Dahar, Kyrie, Vao, Illioni, Luo, Kharjo and Greene. The Sith Lord known as Furion or a representative as well, limited to two attendees as bodyguards as well as being unarmed, guaranteed safe passage by the Jedi as well and a representative from CoreSec and any number of agents the governor's wanted to send. Unknown to the governor, additional and separate invitations went out to the head of Black Sun or a suitable representative with the same limitations as the Sith, along with the Hutt known as Sheog, as a representative of the Hutt cartel, along with a general invitation to whomever currently lead the Mandolorians or wished to represent that race.