Space

[Tobias Vos]

"You're fine, Sandy." He chuckled, and let his face crack into a smile. "I don't foresee them having an issue, they will see the logic in my decision. I did everything to call the withdrawal, so any repercussions will fall unto my shoulders. I've put myself into such a position in the Jedi that it will be very difficult to kick me out. But, Kirlocca responds well to thought out- logical- conversations."

 

He sighed and pressed back into his chair- rotating his shoulders twice to stretch them. Then a wave of Force Energy washed over him. It was... overwhelming. Every thing that Tobias felt he knew about the force- which as a lot, considering his past... adventure- seemed as though it was impacted by a giant wave. Shaking him down to his core- he tried to catch his breath, but it was too much to contend with. What had just happened? It was almost too much for his mind to deal with- so he inched his seat back a bit- trying to shake the feeling off, and not to alert Sandy what he was doing- he winced, realizing his thoughts were along the lines of Sabatin's teaching methods. Oh, the irony...

 

Clearing his throat- "This is the last jump, right? It's going to be a blessing to get out of this seat- even if we do have to mess with the lizards back there. But right now- I think I would welcome the bubble they create without any Force influence. You feel that, right? As if the Force is trying to break you from the inside out?"

 

Vos dug his knuckles into his chest- as if he had heartburn.

[Haphaestus]

As an ancient ship navigated the sea, the Helios traversed the galaxy within hyperspace toward distant Nubia.

 

For a moment the main hold was still, the Sith in the cockpit ensuring that the vessel was safely embarked. Along one wall there were lined Enyo-class droids, currently in standby mode. Beside another there silently floated NYX-1, in some part responsible for what had transpired moments before on Carida. In the hold's center there lay a heap of brown fur, its numerous strands matted with dark crimson blood, clinging to the mass of muscle and flesh that had once been the Jedi Grand Master.

 

Presently Haphaestus and Kitaara left the cockpit and came to look upon it, to view the work they had completed, to reflect upon the life they had ended and the consequences far-reaching of their triumph.

 

"You have done well," Haphaestus intoned. Victory alone he could not have guaranteed, such was the wookiee's might. That together they had defeated such a foe surely lent credence to his teachings, that the Sith were better united in purpose than embittered in the squabbling and rivalries that had long been their hallmark and curse. But just as surely it lent credence to the growing skills of Kitaara Shiri.

 

"That you have accomplished this thing reveals that my guidance you no longer require to be successful," he said. "I grant upon you the rank of Sith Lord and the name Darth Angelia. 'For when devils do the blackest sins put on, they do suggest at first with heavenly shows'; great aptitude in this have you demonstrated even as you have mastered every other skill which I have taught you."

 

He inclined his head to her for a moment in recognition of her achievement before returning to his usual posture. "Though you are no longer bound to me as my student, I sense that our partnership is only beginning," he continued. "We shall continue to explore the secrets of the dark side together, and Lemnos Industries will remain our shared endeavor."

 

The former Dark Lord indicated the body. "I believe it is time to connect with the Order and to see what sort of being now presides over it. Some token of proof that we have slain the Grand Master ought to suffice as an introduction, though they may yet remember my name."

[Kitaara Shiri]

Freedom.

 

For the first time in the scope of her life, Kitaara savored the taste of true freedom. Her teacher had acquired it, the Wookie's broken body lying in the hold had purchased it, and she bore a new name never to be tainted by a slaver's filthy tongue. In truth, Haphaestus had offered her her freedom when first they arrived on Nubia, but at that time, a child with no resources, no skills, and no knowledge may have simply resigned herself to the hidden slumlord-governed streets of Rordis City for the entirety of her sorry existence. Over their time together, he had earned her undying gratitude and affection, as a benevolent father receives from a beloved child. Kitaara had been crafted into the ultimate tool by perseverance, ambition, and guidance; now she could find even more ways to apply herself as his equal, determined to prove her worth in her accomplishments.

 

For such a reason, Darth Angelia teemed with pride at her mentor's words.

 

"The galaxy is returning to darkness, isn't it?" Excitement glittered at the edges of her tone. She extended her hand to him, the hilt of the Wookiee's uniquely crafted saber held therein. "It won't activate. I assume it won't ever activate again if it was linked to him somehow. Perhaps this can serve as an appropriate token of our achievement."

 

The battle-belt he wore like a bandolier was all but severed, hanging together by a thread thanks to her surgical strike. Reaching out within the Force, it rose from the Wookiee's body and into Kitaara's outstretched hands. "I will account for his possessions. Do you know where we should send our gift?"

[JJK]

Joelle let out another sigh, this one more along the lines of relief, her frustration slightly calmed by her master’s response. "Thank you for that reminder and reassurance, Master Roene," she replied gratefully. "I struggle with accepting the gray areas of life at times, and I've always been easily frustrated by confusion. However, you're right in pointing out that it's a part of the learning process. If I already understood all of this, then I'd probably already be a Jedi! Maybe even have a place on the Council!" Joelle ended this with a self-deprecating chuckle.

 

“You’ve given me a lot to process here, Master. I think I’d prefer to reflect on it quietly for a bit, if you don’t mind?” A wave of tiredness hit Joelle at that moment and she let out a yawn. “And possibly take a nap, actually. It would be getting fairly late if we were still on Corellia, and I doubt we’ll be getting a lot of rest once we reach Ossus.”

 

She reclined her seat back and shifted to find the most comfortable position possible. Tyue, apparently curious about the movement, turned his attention to her, nuzzling his head against her knee. She lifted her head and smiled down at him, “Just trying to get some rest, Tyue.” She reached down and scratched him behind the ears, letting her hand rest on her knee after a couple of moments. The Garral pup was less than content with this. He whined softly, pushing his nose between hand and knee, then maneuvering until Joelle’s fingers were once again hitting that spot where all canines can’t get enough attention. “Alright, boy!” she laughed gently and continued to give him the ministrations he so clearly desired as her thoughts, and then her consciousness, slowly drifted...

[Haphaestus]

"Of all worlds, none is more likely to host the Sith than Korriban, its ancestral home," Haphaestus responded. "With no certainty can I predict that the Dark Lord will be there, but any messenger we send will be received." He did not at this point intend to travel there himself to deliver the gift, but rather send one of Lemnos' droids. Perhaps a Deimos-class would present well his missive. For Haphaestus was loathe to kneel to any man or woman save Nurgle or Rivan, and a Dark Lord that saw what he and Kitaara had created -- indeed what was theirs to offer -- might instead come before them.

 

"Concerning the wookiee's body, let us for now preserve it until we might devise a use for it," he continued. "No doubt the Remnant eagerly hunts for his killers. There may yet be a way to encourage the breakdown of negotiations between it and the Galactic Alliance even while we divert suspicion away from Lemnos. On this we should meditate."

 

Already would Haphaestus have formed such a plan, had he foreseen the encounter with Kirlocca. But such had been the nature of the shatterpoint, lacking as it had in specificity, that its consequences had eluded him.

 

For the time being, he retired from the main chamber and sought solitude. He wished not only to consider their next moves at length, but to see to any pending matters from Lemnos that may have emerged in his absence from Nubia.

[Roene Givrah]

The gasping breaths of a dying star bit at Roene’s mind. The middle aged Knight’s pale blue eyes grew somber, his brows knitting together in a tight pattern. His chest tightened with an unseen weight. And reflexively, the corners of his eyes tingled. A light chuckle was offered in return to Joelle’s witty response and playful display, but silence followed. The Cerean watched as the slow careful hands of nocturnal bliss guided his padawan to sleep...

 

There is no emotion, there is peace...

 

• The furry hand of Galen brushed against Roene’s as the kushiban probed the Wookiee master for answers. Other padawans stood, side-by-side, gazing toward Kirlocca; gazing in awe of his presence. Aira, Reptilia, Galen, and more were listening to the Wookiee’s wisdom without knowing what was to come.
   
  << One cannot avoid the darkness unless one knows where it lies and the routes that lead to it. And that is not something that I, nor any other Jedi can teach you...>>

 

That is the day Gala fell; the day the Sith attacked and only a short time before Roene lost his arm. It was the first time Roene met Kirlocca. He’d seen him in passing while training with Kitt and Gavin. But that was the first time he’d talked with the Wookiee.

 

Every moment since then, was a privilege. Under Kirlocca's influence and tutelage, Roene aspired to wisdom and encouraged spiritual enlightenment in the younger generations to help pass along the old Wookiee's legacy.

 

Now…

 

Conflict swam in the ocean of his mind. Anger and hate lingered, an easy temptation to draw him from his path, on the fringe of his thoughts. But, the more Roene gave to his thoughts, the more his anger diffused. Hesitation would be a disservice to the memory of his friend. He was one with the force now and there would be no use belying Roene's grief with fury and vengeance. Vengeance fed vengeance and fury fed fury. It was cyclical and never ending.

 

A single tear crested the weathered edge of Roene’s cheek. He bowed his coned head in silent honorance. The empathic bond that Tyue shared with Roene brought the pup to his side, bowing his canine head in a mirrored gesture. The Garral rubbed up against Roene’s leg, wuffing softly and settled down, resting at the foot of the Cerean’s chair. Roene smiled wanly and rubbed Tyue between the ears.

 

Thank you Master. Thank you for your words, your time and your favor. You are one with the force and the force is with you. May it stay with you always. May you guide our steps and our journeys into the shrouded veil of our future.

 

With Joelle fast in the depths of slumber’s embrace and Tyue close behind, Roene closed his eyes with intent to follow their example.

 

But sleep never came...

[Drilcea]

In a moment she was standing, all the grace of her upbringing and confidence she believed she had straightening her spine and holding her head high, and staring into the face of Death with smoldering, molten eyes. Her nails dug into her palms as she balled her hands into tight, angry fists.

 

“You do not get to steal my ship and then proceed to tell me that my desires are invalid. Whatever powers you possess that lets you allow yourself into my mind does not in any way mean that you know one second of my life or one ounce of who I am. I owe no explanation to a common thief who has been caught amongst her spoils.”

 

Her words were calm, calculated, reverting back to her childhood in mannerism, but that was no longer who she was. She was her own, she was free...well, almost…

 

“From the moment of my existence I have not been alone. Whisperings in my ear, some unknown puppeteer pulling the strings of my life at every turn. So, this is how this is going to work. You’re either going to teach me about this presence - this force which rules my every breath - to control it and gain control over my life in every aspect, or to harness it and give in to its temptations and urges. Or we’re going to dock on Nal Hutta, you’re going to leave my ship and my life, and I’m going back to Korriban until I find someone who will teach me.”

[Tristin Stellar]

Space sprawled across the view screen of the passenger shuttle as it's pilot expertly guided the craft toward it's destination of Coruscant. A group of passengers moved past the scenery and passing the only person who was actually acknowledging the sight of space. His white suit a perfect contrast to the void beyond the vessel. I suppose I too should be seated before the final jump. He leaned into the metal grip of his cane for a moment before striding to the seat that was assigned to him according to the ticket in his breast pocket.

 

Empty and beautiful... It never truly changes. He said as he took his seat.

 

Sir? A young boy said as he looked up at the man in white. Yes lad? Tristin Replied. Why would you wear such a expensive suit and ride with people like us? My mommy said rich got that way by stealing from the poo... Kodi! A frazzled woman shouted and placed her hand over the young boys mouth. I'm so sorry, he's just a child and it's my faul... Shh, replied the man in white. He's got a point, must get it from his mother, a warm smile starting at his hazel eyes and stretched across his face. The women blushed and removed her hand from the boys mouth.

 

Young Kodi looked up at the man in white and back to his mother as they both buckled in and pulled out data slates to read.

 

The engines roared to life as the small ship leaped into hyperspace.

[Aira Cadan]

A diplomatic envoy, composed of several ambassadors and their support staff--and one Jedi Knight and her padawan that were kind of both--slipped through hyperspace.

 

___

 

The atmosphere of our expedition had certainly been tainted. Everyone on the voyage knew at least of Kirlocca--indeed, there would be few in the galaxy who wouldn't have heard the old Wookiee's name. Several of the team had met Kirlocca personally, if briefly. The Holonet was void of news, which seemed telling to me. It meant that he had indeed died recently, and that the Sith weren't immediately claiming responsibility.

 

Of course, I believed it was them, and told Aelyn as much. Few others could kill a Jedi Master such as him. But still, there was a chance he had died in an accident, or there had been another cause of his death besides murder. After talking about it for a while with Aelyn and her father, I sighed. "We'll have to let the Jedi Council deal with this, although perhaps after we're done on Carida, we can be involved in the investigation." I shook my head sadly. "Try not to dwell on it, padawan. It's sad, indeed, but in the end, we all die. And Jedi believe that we become one with the Force after death. Death ceases to lose much of its sting when you know that when you die, you'll be one with that which you serve. In a way, it's a cause to rejoice for them. It's why we say in the code: There is no death, there is only the Force."

 

___

 

After an uneventful trip, the envoy dropped out of hyperspace in the Carida System.

[Keenava Dira]

Vivid ire hung like a thick murky cloud in the Twi’lek’s mind as drivel continued to pour from the woman’s crooked mouth. Before she could continue her petulant display, fingers of cold dread extended outward, clamping against the woman’s neck and slamming her to the hull of her ship. Her back clattered against the cold steel bulkhead in a raucous display of force. But the action was swift and decisive. Carefully, the Sith Lord extinguished her blade and replaced it at her hip. The spectral hand that clasped at Drilcea’s larynx left the woman just enough room to breathe but kept it tight enough to hurt, hanging her body inches from the deck plating.

 

“One - for your first lesson - NEVER yell at someone who is leveling a blade at you. That is a good way to die if you attempt to return to Korriban and seek different means to learn. Two, I get to do what I need to do to finish my duty. That is my prerogative. YOU, however, don’t get to claim entitlement to a power that escapes your comprehension; a power that I have bled to earn and build; a power that I've sacrificed everything to achieve. Do. You. Understand?” Keenava’s words were clipped and her tone was extremely severe, but she didn't raise her voice. Even when her anger reached a fever pitch, the Twi'lek was still; her words level and measured. The invisible fingers that dug into the woman’s skin trembled at every syllable, yet remained terribly strong.

 

When she resumed her ‘lecture,’ Keenava’s voice took a lethal edge. “What you don't seem to grasp, is that you are messing with something that will change your entire life. You are tainting the core of your soul. You cannot return from this. You will be forever scarred. The fact that I seem to be the only one who cares about your future should tell you something, Princess…" With a casual gesture, Keenava pulled her hood back, maintaining her grip on Drilcea and revealing the ebony black Twi'lek underneath. Hard ruby eyes glowed with fire as they stared at the woman, judging her.

 

“You are a naive fool. You claim to know. You push your power around like it means something to me; like all apprentices do. But power plays are stupid. In the end, there is always someone with more power. There will always be a bigger fish. And with every step to further your own power and ambition, there is a sacrifice. You let something of yourself go with every inch you crawl into the dark. This isn’t about your ship anymore. I was going to give it back. I may be an evil cuss, but I have my moments. No. This is about you making the biggest mistake of your life. This is not a choice to make lightly. I didn't have a second chance. So, I am giving you one.”

 

An all-consuming hunger emerged from the core of Keenava’s being, snuffing the fire of Drilcea’s anger like a candle in a hurricane. Terror, desire, rage, sorrow, hunger, and need, wove together. It was a terrible tapestry of power that welled to the fore of Keenava’s mind. Her fiery red eyes burst into actual crimson flame and her voice took on an ethereal duality that echoed off the metal of the ship.

 

“THIS is how it's going to work. If you submit to my teachings, my word is law. You know nothing. You have nothing except what you earn and what I give to you. If you betray me, the Dark Lord, or the Sith Empire, your life is forfeit. I will be harsh. Your training will be difficult and you will not enjoy it. I will never mark or draw blood from you unless it's appropriate. But that does not mean I will not punish you. By the end, you will be a blade in the dark. You will strike fear in the hearts of those that would oppose you. Or, if you wish to flee and find training with the Jedi or a simpler life in the Galaxy, you can take this ship from Nal Hutta and leave. I promise you, the likelihood of finding a genial Sith to train you in the art you describe is zero. My Master would have done worse for your impudence than I have.” The brilliant red fire faded as Keenava’s form drifted out of visibility, melding with the shadows around her. “That is your choice. I don't need a slave. I don't need dead weight. But if you will forsake everything for the Sith, then I will teach you.”

 

The spectral grip did not abate even as the Twi'lek faded into the shadows. Only the fury of her ruby eyes remained, smoldering with power, waiting to strike.

[Darex Trevelian]

A comm arrived for Skye Organa, on her personal comm channel, and was picked up by her ship, the Serenity.

 

 

Skye, my dear friend...I'm back. The Force has seen fit to return me to the galaxy.

 

I've been trying to get caught up on what's been going on, and I just saw that you were put on the Council. It's about time. I'm so glad for you.

 

I don't know where you are or what you are doing now, but I hope we can meet in person soon. I'm eager to see you again, and I'm sure you can fill me in much better as to what's been going on than the holonet can.

 

Your friend,

Darex

 

 

The message was opened and read by I-Nine and Flitter. The droids were happy to hear the news, and knew that Skye would be eager to hear it as soon as they arrived on Onderon. In the meantime, I-Nine took the initiative to send a reply back to Darex, informing him that Skye had been on the tail of Faust and that she was overdue to check in with them. It also informed Darex that they were making their way to Onderon, Skye's last known location.

 

((approved by Christine))

[Faux]

So...cold...

 

It made sense why it would be so cold, being in space and all, but Faux had never been so cold in her life. Her body shivered and shook to burn calories to make up heat as quick as it was lost to the air around her. It was a body's autonomous response to the stimuli, normally uncontrollable until the system was returned to normal. But she knew through years of practice any one of her muscles could be commanded through conscious direction. Instead of trying to tighten the muscles against increasingly violent convulsion against the cold she relaxed and urged her muscles to do the same. Sitting cross legged on the small bed, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. In quickly, out slowly. This rhythm would turn the cool air in her lungs warm as the body naturally does, then the slow exhales would keep the heat in longer. She took breath with her abdomen, drawing it down deeper than what the chest could command, feeling the energy draw down into the major vessel. Exhales drove the energy up and out, through muscle and sinew to the skin. Though she never needed to retain her heat on the desert world of Tatooine, the principles in the practice were always taught alongside expelling excess heat. It was all about balance, controlling your own flow of life essence to where it was needed most to maintain a harmonious system. For an hour she continued this practice until she began to sweat, feeling her own essence vibrantly through all the major and lesser channels. Each had their own path, and took concentration to direct the energy as necessary. No longer did her muscles twitch like sticks rubbing together to create fire from friction.

 

Warm, her muscles were ready to stretch and get ready for today’s practice, but the room the pilots gave her was much too small for all of that. With a deep exhale Faux expunged any remaining stagnant energy and got out of bed, pressing the button to let the door slid away into the wall. She didn’t remember much from when Stan showed her around the ship. The Juma juice made her a little fuzzy and sleepy, which was why a nap quickly ensued just after making the jump to hyperspace. However, most of the ship was cargo space, half of which was sealed and she was forbade to go, so navigating the remainder of the ship to find the cockpit was a simple task.

 

“Hello.” She chimed. Stan appeared to be the only one in the cockpit, busying himself by flicking through a datapad with half interest. Dukono must have been in his quarters, or the section of cargo bay she wasn’t allowed into.

 

“Ah, so she’s awake.” He said without looking up. “What’s the matter? Juma juice too much for ya?”

 

“I…” she started, suddenly a little embarrassed for an assumed ineptitude. “Well, I’ve never had anything with alcohol before. It didn’t taste very good and it just made me sleepy. How does everyone enjoy it?”

 

“You get used to it. Keep drinking and you get past that sleepy bit and it starts to make you feel good.”

 

I don’t need a substance to feel good… but what I do need…

 

“Would you mind if I used the open cargo bay to practice?”

 

“Practice what?” He said, turning from the datapad to look her over. She didn’t have any instruments or equipment.

 

“Vitality.” She said without pause.

 

After staring blankly for a moment, Stan said “What?” in a confused way. Faux returned the blank stare, not really sure where his confusion came from.

 

“I…uh, practice moving. You know, stretching and holds. Small circles and large.”

 

“O….kay….” Stan finally said, still unsure what she really meant. “You mean exercise?”

 

“Not qui-“ Faux stopped, realizing that in the time she got him to some solid ground of understanding she could be done with practice and already onto dinner. “Pretty much, yeah.”

 

“Sure. Just don’t break anything.” Stan meant not to break anything on her person, but Faux took it to mean don’t break anything in the room. I guess bone conditioning is out.

 

“Thank you.” She said with a courteous nod, then proceeded toward the open cargo room. Just as she was opening the door, the door behind her leading to the sealed cargo bay opened up. She turned to see Dukono leaving, with what appeared to be two dozen or so humanoid size cages filling the cargo bay. Dukono said something in an angry tone and quickly sealed the door behind him before stomping off toward the cockpit.

 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t…” But he was already gone. Oh well. I wonder what the cages are intended for? Are we picking up animals somewhere? Oh, I’ll get to see animals.

 

The thought occurred to her that they may be intended for people, but she pushed it away. Why would they transport people in cages? Unless they were hired to transport criminals, maybe…

 

The cargo bay open to her was mostly empty save for a few empty containers and shelves lined with spare ship parts. After taking a moment to move everything against the walls she returned to the middle and began. First she stretched everything, slow and methodical like she had a million times before. Down to taunt, then consciously relax the muscle and push it a little further. Back up to a neutral position, repeat a dozen or so times. All the way down to the toes, every joint was pushed to maximal range.

 

Hmm…let’s see. Yesterday was technique, so that makes today endurance.

 

Faux started going through her regular regimen of calisthenics, holding the body in abnormal poses for extended periods to put strain on the muscles to build strength. When one muscle group started to get tired or shaky beyond her ability to keep them relaxed, she would shift into another pose to utilize another group. Moving from legs to abdomen, back to shoulders to arms, hands, everything was pushed to hold the entirety of her bodyweight in one fashion or another. To anyone starting new with these exercises they would look impossible, but Faux had been doing handstand pushups and horse stance since she was a little girl. Now they served more as mental exercises than physical, pushing willpower over pain.

 

With a deep breath she leaned forward to put her weight on her hands and off of her legs, now resting on crates a meter in the air two meters apart, and let them go to the ground and rose to her feet. It would take a couple minutes for breathing to make sure all the channels were flowing properly and no excess energy was trapped in the course of the exercises. When she opened her eyes, Stan was leaning in the doorway mesmerized. There was something wolfish about his expression.

 

“How long have you been there?” Faux asked, giving everything one last stretch.

 

“Not long…” Something about how he said it made her think it was a lie. “Dukono said you tried to go into the other cargo bay.

 

“He was leaving it as I was coming in here. If I saw something I shouldn’t have, it was an unavoidable mistake. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay…” He said, blinking as if coming back to himself. “We’ve been ordered to pick up some specimens on Kashyyyk for study. They’ll be pretty dangerous, even in their cages, so we didn’t want you going in there and get yourself hurt.”

 

But there isn’t anything in there now… “I appreciate your concern. I will respect your wishes and leave that section of the ship alone.” She bowed her head slightly, giving way to his wishes. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but what else was there? This was their ship after all.

 

“We’ll be landing on Kashyyyk within the hour. There’s a small trading port you can look around in while we load the ship.”

 

“Thanks. I’ll get my things ready.”

 

Stan gave a half smile and left, but something didn’t feel right.

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

When their borrowed Jedi transport blasted off of Lehon the next day, surrounded once again by the welcoming openness of traversable space, Tirzah could not help but feel a strange sense of wonder as she ran about the small ship with Jax and Alana, inventing what games they could play in the limited square footage available. Whatever she had expected when she stowed away on the Eternal Vigilance or whatever she had expected when she followed the voice to Lehon, it was not this. Apprenticed to one of the most legendary heroes in the galaxy, surrounded by friends more or less her age, and knowing that, for all their mutual dysfunction, she retained her mother's love, the smile on her face gave way to nothing as she and the twins tossed a training remote back and forth between them, attempting not to be the one holding it when it decided to fire its charges.

 

Several hours into their journey, Tirzah found herself alone in the crew lounge of the transport with the discarded remote. It had not occurred to her until now that she had not yet had cause to pull out and practice with her own saber since it was given. Pulling the hilt from her belt, she activated it. Its soprano snap-hiss befitted its diminutive size, and the shoto saber glowed with a brilliant fire that even she could perceive. The remote circled around her, and once, twice, three times she batted its bolts harmlessly away, standing in the standard Shii-Cho ready stance. Darting behind her, the sphere leveled another bolt at her ankle, but with a sharp twist of her hand, she swung the short blade to intercept. It fired two more at her opposite shoulder, and Tirzah barely recovered in time to catch the first, but the second hit its mark, and the beam of light disappeared as she dropped her saber to clutch at her painfully tingling arm, nerves protesting angrily.

[Darex Trevelian]

Darex had spent the first few hours of the journey alternating between playing with the kids and sitting in the cockpit watching the starlines swirl around them. He had always loved the blue whirl of hyperspace. It drove some people crazy after a while, but to Darex, it had always lulled his mind to a welcome state of calm meditation. He had much to think on, but instead, he allowed himself simply to rest; to be at peace in the ebb and flow of the Force.

 

After some time, he rose and headed back to the lounge. It was cold, and he was looking for his cloak. But Tirzah was already there, bathed in the deep emerald green of the shoto her mother had made for her. Not wishing to disturb her, Darex stayed back in the hallway, observing. The girl clearly had had some lessons already, or she wouldn't have been using a full-powered lightsaber. As the remote circled around her, she carefully picked off its bolts one by one, until it increased its rate of fire. Then she winced and dropped the saber, letting the hilt roll on the cold decking of the shuttle.

 

Hiding his smile, the Jedi Master entered the room, scooping up the shoto as he did so and handing it back to her. "Dropping your lightsaber is not a good habit to get into," he said a little sternly. "If a real being was firing at you, that would be the quickest way to get yourself killed." He crossed the room and grabbed his cloak. Wrapping it around himself, he motioned for Tirzah to join him on one of the sofas. "Let's talk. I want to know what else you've learned besides how to swing a weapon. What things have your teachers been telling you?"

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

Accepting the short handle of her saber back from her master, Tirzah sat across from him in the lounge, only slightly sullen at the reprimand. For a minute, her eyes darted to and fro, unsure of what he was looking for. There were years worth of lessons that she could summarize, but her mind went blank, and the only thing she could think of was how far away dinner was. The more she tried not to think about it, the more hungry she felt: until finally she spoke simply to drown out the growl in her stomach.

 

"We learned a lot. History of the Order. How a Jedi wields a weapon to defend, never attack. The Force flows through us." Her words sounded shallow in her own ears, and her frustration made her clam up. "I don't know."

[Sapphire]

There was no place a pirate belonged more than at the helm of her ship.

 

Sapphire was glad Emerald was in the back, because she knew her friend would laugh at her if she caught her stroking the control yoke. But the red-head couldn't help it. This ship meant almost as much to her as her fellow pirates, and she had been pining away while it had been in the shop. There were few things in the galaxy Sapphire truly loved, but her ship was one of them.

 

She spent a good portion of the flight doing a complete systems diagnostic on the Glory, making sure everything was up to snuff. Jalos' former crew was some of the best in the business, but she still felt more comfortable checking everything out personally.

 

When she finally made it back to the lounge, she found Emerald up to her knees in foam insulation. "Emperor's black bones! What have you gotten yourself into, Em?"

[Darex Trevelian]

Darex raised his eyebrows at her suddenly terse tone. "I'm not testing you. If I'm going to train you, I simply wish to know what you've already learned so I don't spend time covering topics you already know." He wasn't sure what was going on in her head. "Tirzah, I want you to know: you need never be afraid of voicing your opinion or sharing your thoughts with me. I'd much rather you speak your mind than bottle things up. But at the same time, I need you to trust me. I promise to answer any question you put to me. Okay?" He knew she would have trouble trusting him; he was a stranger, and she was already dealing with issues of abandonment. But he hoped she would make the effort.

 

He reached out gently with the Force and fed her a small trickle of energy to push off her hunger. "Now tell me, do you know the Jedi Code?"

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

Every biting retort that rose in her throat like bile melted away at the realization of who she was talking to. Darex Trevelian, hero of the galaxy; the Jedi Code was not simply mere words to him. This was a man who had already proved that he would die for what he believed in. This was a man whose beliefs ran so deep that their currents mingled with the Force's own.

 

Obediently, she cleared her throat and recited, like she had every day from the day she arrived at Lehon as a timid eight-year-old. "There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force."

[Emerald]

Muttering curses under her breath, Emerald glared up at the redhead. "You didn't tell me you brought a friend. Kriffing thing tried to turn me into a couch."

 

This, of course, was an absolute falsehood, but it made her feel better than admitting what had actually happened. In the crew lounge, Emerald had been watching the ship's security cams on her datapad, chuckling to herself at all the ways she was going to tease Sapphire for her ridiculous display of affection for her ship's helm, concocting all kinds of jokes about how much the latter loved control sticks and the bigger the better and all manner of innuendos at her friend's expense. So engrossed was she in her plotting that she didn't notice the whirring of servomotors behind her.

 

The lights in the lounge turned off, and Emerald dropped the datapad instantly, assuming a ready combat stance. "Not cool, Sapph," she yelled, though she was far enough to the rear of the ship that her friend likely wouldn't hear her in the cockpit.

 

A clanking of metal sounded on the deck, and she whirled around, muscles taut, expecting that at any moment one of the other pirate captains of Nar Shaddaa would strike, or she would hear the blaster bolts that would signify the end of her.

 

Then the lights flickered back on, and she squinted against the sudden brightness before spying the rounded black shape of Kain's BB unit in the center of the lounge.

 

"Sacred kriff, you scared the sithspit out of me," she growled at the droid. "What are you even doing here?!"

 

The droid answered with a huffy blat before rolling away toward the refresher. Watching the doorway, Emerald heard the flushing mechanism activate no fewer than five times before yelling in after him, "Will you quit it? Get back out here."

 

Kriffing thing's due for a memory wipe, she thought to herself irritably as she grabbed her hydrospanner. Rolling out like a drunken Weequay, the droid came to a stop mere feet away, and Emerald leaned down to fasten a restraining bolt on its dome. Without warning, an appendage darted out from its innards, pointed at her feet, drenching her legs in quick-expanding foam insulation before she could even react, effectively cementing her in her current location in the center of the lounge as surely as a sticky grenade would have.

 

At that very moment, Sapphire walked in.

 

Tossing the restraining bolt at her compatriot, she yelled, "See if you can do something with the little schutta."

 

Emerald wasn't sure, but it seemed to her that the droid was chortling maniacally to himself as he rolled away.

[Darex Trevelian]

The familiar words were comforting, giving Darex the sense of greeting an old friend after many years' separation. "Excellent," he praised. "I don't know what your masters have taught you about the meaning of it, but in my experience, it is often misunderstood, misapplied, and leads Jedi to feel stifled, when in reality, it is the opposite."

 

He settled himself more comfortably on the sofa. "There is no emotion, there is peace. This is likely the most misunderstood line in the entire code. I remember as a padawan thinking that it meant I had to be like a droid: unfeeling and purely logical. But that is not only impossible, but misses the meaning of the line. Jedi feel emotions. Often deeply. But we do not let our emotions control us. Let me give you an example: my first padawan turned to the dark side. For a long time, I felt personally responsible. If I had only trained her better, maybe she wouldn't have fallen. My guilt ate me up on the inside. I had no peace. Until one day, we had the opportunity to talk, and I realized that she had chosen her path with her eyes wide open. It had been no fault of mine, but rather, her own actions that lead her down that path. With that revelation came the lifting of a huge emotional burden. It dissipated into the Force, and I felt peace. This is what the code teaches us in this line. We experience and acknowledge our emotions--they are natural and valid--but we don't let them overwhelm or burden us, and we don't allow them to influence our decision making. Also, the Code is referring to emotions such as anger, fear and hate. There is no room for these emotions at all, as they are a sure path to the dark side."

 

He rubbed his chin. "There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. On the surface, this is simple. A Jedi is always learning new things. Whether that is how the galaxy works, or some new insight on the Force, it is only through constant education that we can successfully bring peace and justice to the galaxy. But this line refers not only to training, which should be of the mind, body, and spirit, but also to knowledge of the situation you are in. Making sure all the factors are present and all sides have presented their evidence before making your decision. Also a general knowledge of the galaxy, and it's species. A Jedi is a mediator, a negotiator, and a diplomat, and that requires at least a general familiarity with other cultures. Finally, it refers to self-knowledge. A Jedi is expected to know herself, to know her strengths--and how to use them to defend the innocent, and her weaknesses--and how to deal with them when they arise.

 

"There is no passion, there is serenity. There is a lot in this galaxy I care about. Passion is natural to a certain degree, and it's good to be 'passionate' about helping people, or working to preserve justice. But to become obsessed is insanity, and that is the last quality a Jedi could want. Like I said earlier, strong emotions can also lead you to make decisions based solely on those emotions. A Jedi makes decisions based on the will of the Force, not what they are feeling at the moment. A clear, serene mind is necessary for the Jedi to be able to hear the will of the Force clearly." His tone grew fond, and yet still held reverential awe. "For it is always speaking to us."

 

There was a pause as he was lost in his thoughts for a moment. Then he continued. "There is no chaos, there is harmony. The galaxy is full of chaos, but a Jedi's role is to bring harmony to the discord. I see this most strongly when it comes to the dark side. A true Sith recognizes the chaos in the galaxy, and seeks to promote it. They see the galaxy as an endless spiral of darkness, and feed into it simply because they are a tool of the dark side. But they don't realize that a single candle is enough to hold back the darkness. A Jedi is that light, and everyone around them experiences harmony."

 

A wistful look crossed the Jedi Master's face. "There is no death, there is only the Force." The words came out reverently. He glanced up and met Tirzah's eyes. "All I can say is that line is more true than I could possibly communicate. Death...is not the end."

 

There was another pause, and then Darex spoke again. "So Tirzah, why do you think the Jedi have a code in the first place?"

[Drilcea]

Drilcea felt panic as those fingers clasped and held her, even as she realized she could still breath she sucked in greedy gasps and still clawed at the restraint. Righteous anger burned in her at every second this treatment of her continued, of every word out of the other woman’s mouth. For a moment she was 6 years old and back on Zoist, in her parents’ apartments being yelled at by her father for embarrassing them at a political function. He was telling her to stay quiet, behave, smile, something she hadn’t done right that she’d been trained to do since birth. She’d wanted to scream, yell back at him, rebel in any way but that hand of his was quick and hard whenever she would do so. She could still remember the sting on her cheek. She wanted to explode, to lash out at and then…

 

It was gone. The anger that ruled her life since she’d learned it as an emotion. The anger that had been a crutch as her constant companion and saved her from crumbling years ago was simply gone along with every other emotion. She would have panicked but fear was gone as well. She was...empty and she couldn’t even relish in the feeling.

 

She watched the revealed Twi’lek as she displayed her powers. She took in the hand holding her, the fire, the projection of her voice, and finally she stared at the eyes that floated before her. She’d listened as her perspective teacher burned with emotion while seeming to have taken away her own but also to the words she spat as if each was a hot iron on her tongue.

 

Silence lingered and she listened to that, listened to the logic and reason that were the only things that remained, and listened as there in that silence that tug sang to her. It called her name, beckoned her to its sway, and it existed without her anger. As she listened her resolve clicked into place.

 

“This is the first choice I’ve gotten to make for myself. I will accept any terms, my choice is to learn,” she replied simply. She’d been forced to learn things she had no desire in learning with no room for error and taken each punishment, she would be able to do so again for something she did.

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

"So they don't go crazy and fall into the dark side," she answered without delay, as though rehearsed. After his long and careful explanation, however, she could not just leave her response there. "I mean, isn't that what they always teach? The Code is to keep us from straying down a dark path that will ruin us forever. Is it true? Touching the dark just once leaves a scar that you can never recover from?"

 

Tirzah's gaze looked askance, though, with the blackness of space surrounding the ship, the presences of Master Darex and the twins were all that she could behold clearly in the half-light, blazing like beacons in her limited view.

 

"It always seemed to me that using the dark side of the Force would have consequences. But does using the Light Side mean that mean we always have to be doing things for everyone else?"

[Keenava Dira]

Good...

 

The grim vice that held Drilcea in place began to loosen. Keenava released the wild emotion she'd harnessed back into the ship as it shot through hyperspace. And the glow of her fiery crimson eyes dimmed until nought but smoldering rubies remained. A marble-white toothy smile heralded the Assassin's return. It was the first part to appear, and it preceded the rest of her body as the Twi’lek regained visibility.

 

Her smile was sharp; predatory.

 

“That is the first sensible thing I've heard you say.” The red of the Sith Lord's eyes, pierced through the thin veneer of thought that clouded Drilcea’s mind and documented her family drama for later use. Then, with casual grace, she bowed. “You shall call me Master. For to you, that is all I should be.”

 

With a nod, the force hold disappeared completely from Drilcea’s throat and Keenava walked off toward the cockpit to check on their progress. Just as she departed, however, a small shrill tweeting noise caught her ear nub and persisted until she brought the incessant device to her attention.

 

“Yes?” Keenava purred with lethal fervor into the small transmitter of her comm device

 

Vidaya Langarmie’s voice was a bright and pleasant alto; a balm to Keenava’s wearied mind.

 

<< There’s been a development. >>

 

Keenava’s brow furrowed slightly and she looked intently at the melting white lines of space as she stepped beside the captain's chair. “What is it?”

 

<< Dordjooba was spotted on Carida. >>

 

Keenava frowned. Carida meant the Imperial Remnant. And the Imperial Remnant meant certain death for a Sith. If this information was solid, she would need to proceed with caution.

 

“Is this a trustworthy source?” Keenava hedged, trying to find some hole in her lead. “Cause you said earlier…”

 

<< Yeah. I remember. But Farsha just called a little while ago. She's a facility maintenance worker in the Imperial HQ. She saw Dordjooba in the halls and confirmed it was him through some creative eavesdropping. >>

 

Urgency struck Keenava like a harsh blow with a blunt instrument. “Did you tell anyone I was or you were looking for him?”

 

<< Not specifically. I put the word out to my friends that I was looking for some information on Dordjooba; not why or for whom. >>

 

Keenava’s intensity backed off a few notches, but wary skepticism still hung to the vestiges of her doubt. “Whew. Alright… Well, it's the only solid lead I have. Thanks Vidaya.”

 

<< No problem >>

 

Keenava heard the click as her comm device went silent. She sighed deeply to the open air and hung her head a little lower, letting her lekku drape toward the floor.

Apprentice. Change of plans. We’re headed to somewhere outside the Carida System. Keenava said to Drilcea through the force.

 

The ebony Twi'lek pushed a few buttons on the navigation terminal and took the ship out of hyperspace. Then, grabbing on the yoke and turning the ship around, Keenava found the autopilot function - after a little trouble - and registered new coordinates in the ship’s computer.

 

This is going to be a bumpy ride.

Edited August 25, 2017 by Guest

[Darex Trevelian]

"Yes and no," Darex replied. Here we are talking about the dark side already and it's only lesson one... "The Code is a set of guidelines that encompass what it means to be a Jedi. What distinguishes us from the rest of the galaxy, including the Sith. Mere words won't be enough to keep you from slipping down the path to the dark side, no matter how time-honored. They are there to be a reminder to you how a Jedi should act in difficult situations.

 

"Yes, the dark side always has consequences. If someone touches it, it does often leave a scar on their soul. But scars can heal and reveal who you truly are. Even the darkest, most corrupt and vile Sith can be redeemed. It's a hard road, but it is always possible, especially through the love of friends and family. It is essential to the life of a Jedi that they believe this. No Sith is truly evil to the core. Even Vladimir Faust has some noble characteristics--he, too, has people he cares about."

 

The Jedi sighed. "Honestly, the Force is much less dichotomous than most people believe. Dark and light are just two sides to the same coin, and the Force is not whole without both. Using the Force is not an inherently evil or good thing; it's all about how you use it. So a Jedi is not only a servant of the Force, but one who is dedicated to the light. Often times, yes, this means that you always have to be doing things for others. A Jedi's life is self-sacrifice. It's what makes being a Jedi such a hard road to walk."

[Sapphire]

"Awww," Sapphire said, chuckling, "he just doesn't like you. C'm'ere baby," she crooned. The little black droid warbled a satisfied tone and rolled over to the red-head. With a quick motion, she snapped on the restraining bolt, then gave the droid an affectionate kiss on its metal head. It warbled again, clearly pleased, then rolled off elsewhere into the ship.

 

Meanwhile, the pirate had fetched a dissolving agent from the cleaning supplies and tossed it to her friend. "Here. You better stay on that droid's good side. He's a handful. I was working with him earlier and he's got a vicious humor algorithm programmed into his circuits. I wonder if it's that Sith's idea of a joke, or if his previous owner just appreciated dark humor. Anyway, it's got an ego the size of a Wookiee. I was going to wipe the routine, but I figured it'd be worth some laughs." Glancing at her friend's flustered face, she winked. "Guess I was right."

 

She lounged back on one of the chaises in the area, not lifting a hand to help Emerald out of her sticky situation. "We'll make good time to Endor. The Glory's running like a dream; we'll probably shave a few hours off the normal transit time."

[Lusef Aryan]

That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons even death may die.

 

Somewhere in the blackness of space:

 

Report: LucifAIrian 001 terminated on Onderon

 

Status Report on Current Projects

 

• Status on Project Soulbind:
   
  Objectives 0/2 Complete
   
  Locate the Eyes of the Hunter: Pending. Resonance set up.
   
  
  • Co-Op Cult of Morthos: Failure. Assist in terminating them with extreme prejudice.

Locate Repair Vessel: Pending.

 

Status on Project New Order:

 

Objectives 1/3 Complete

 

Data: Obtained & Complete

 

Manufacture: Pending. Suitable facilities at point zero needed.

 

Dispersion: Pending. Suitable Vessel Needed. Security scoping needed.

 

Commencing LucifAIrian vessel 002 for deployment. Model: Vaderoid. Vessel: Disposable.

 

He processed the report, readying his next move. Another suicide run this time. As was expected.

 

Death had been something he skirted before. Survival was about facing down death, defeating it, overcoming nature and the other predators that roamed the wilds of the cosmos. He sought to take on the biggest predator of all and strike it down, sundering it, taking its place. He failed and paid the ultimate price.

 

That burned. A raw, undiluted hatred still ran through him. He hated the Jedi who thwarted him, the servants that failed him, the others who stood in his way. He hated them all. Pure, dark, consuming hatred. He could see the lingering effects even now, looking through cybernetic eyes from many cameras and sensors at his own body. Flesh and blood was weak. Man was meat and bone and sinew. He was an expert at taking it apart, turning something living into empty matter. And now he stared at his own meat, bone, sinew. Attempts to vitalize it came again and again, but the rot set in. Nothing natural was causing this. His sensors, his arrays could tell that there was no natural cause.

 

He tried to transcend the flesh, to escape the trap of bone and flesh and become something greater, something immortal that would endure. The apex predator over a universe of squabbling filth, fighting for survival. He succeeded for brief moments, and the flesh vanished as he became one with the Dark Side of the Force. And was consumed by it completely, utterly. Flesh to spirit. Spirit to flesh. That door swung both ways and even now leeched at the life force he needed. Consuming it. Consuming him!

 

He hated the Force, even as he drew upon its power once. He dared not try it now, lest it snuff out that tiny spark he tried to cultivate. His pet warded off the worst of the Force's powers, but the Force was tied to life itself. That constant battling, the schizophrenic god that set its pawns to do battle generation after generation had eclipsed him now and there was no escape. Not unless he could find what he needed. The Eyes, and a means to repair his vessel, his living vessel, his self.

 

He settled a copy of his consciousness, his self, into LucifAIrian 002, the orders going out. He could feel the duality of his senses, even as he was trapped here in this tomb. Oh, it was a tomb. His greatest works were here, but he was surrounded by the dead as well. Trapped among them until he could be freed. He could feel that edge as he pulled himself together. He was hungry, famished. He consumed worlds before and needed to again. He would go world by world if he had to. Until then, he would be patient, and serve, and play the parts he needed.

 

He was a valuable piece to some still. No longer royalty, but no mere pawn. He would move across the board as needed until he found what he needed. And then he could break the board in twain. But now, he channeled his anger, his rage, his hatred and malice. He could feel nothing else anymore, but they were powerful emotions, even if their higher powers were lost to him. He would endure, even in this half-state for millennia until he could draw his spirit in full back from the abyss of the Dark Side. He would die again and again until he came back for good and death itself died by his hands. His hatred transcended death and would last until the last stars grew cold.

 

For now though, he had his purpose, and his mission. He would send his vessel back to where he lost everything. Back to Coruscant.

 

Vladimir Faust, Darth Luciferian had made promises, and now he would keep them. Project New Order would be seen to completion.

[Lux]

Everything was a blur. Taut muscles, fervid passion, and seething rage filled the air like thick gelatinous sludge. It threatened to swallow Lux whole and inundate her with chaotic energy. A horde of ragged, ravenous talons clung to the outside of her skull, attempting to pierce the veneer of her scalp with whispers of power; irascible thoughts collided with the strong crystalline defense arrested by the fragile skin of her palm. The square was electric and tumultuous.

 

But, to Lux, everything gleamed with intense lucidity. Her luminous snowy gaze took in the scene as if it were behind a thick sheet of glass. The surreal irony of her emotional detachment played on the tiny hairs of her forehead as the groups split apart. And the awkward silence that fell between them, was the loudest silence she'd ever witnessed.

 

Although conflicted, the Thyrsian took her leave with a benumbed stride and headed straight for The Raisonneur. No words were shed, nor consolation required. Lux walked with purpose toward her chambers, said a small piece to Lorecait and her family, and closed the door behind her. When she was finally settled; when the world around her stopped pounding against the hollow shell that surrounded her, Lux released the crystal from her hand and let it drop to the deck plates with a small clattering sound.

 

It was a simple thing -- the sound of rock hitting bare durasteel. But roaring fires pushed inward, violently chasing the Thyrsian that thrust herself into the raging inferno.

 

• “THIS JUST IN, THREE OF CORUSCANT’S BIGGEST SKYSCRAPERS WERE CUT DOWN TODAY!”

… the Marie…

 

• “I am so glad you came to get me. I thought I was dead.”

 

"I'm...I'm sorry. I'm not trying to take all this out on you. I promise. You're ...the closest person I have to all this in my life right now..."

 

• “You spar with spirit and fight well… for a Thyrsian.”

 

"I can feel your fear for your master. Your anger. Your hatred of powerlessness. It makes you stronger, but you deny it."

 

• "Run along now and dwell on your failure to protect her, and reflect on what it means to be a Jedi."

 

“..I can set you free. You know nothing of the danger you are in...”

 

Without defense, the Thyrsian embraced her vulnerability. The frigid hand of regret and sorrow tore across her obsidian face and ripped away the facade. Burning lacrimal stars streamed from the corners of her eyes, lit only by dull fluorescence. A miserable dance of memory and woe played on the dearth of joy that fought to regain her heart. The frail ballerina, at the mercy of her danzatore, struggled to regain the vivacity she had only a week prior. The Thyrsain bound herself in her own arms and curled up by the wall, trying to muster the strength to stand.

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

Absorbing the Jedi Master's words, for a long time, the young apprentice said nothing. Her life had already been wrapped up in the scars of the dark side: the story that Master Quietus had told her was evidence of that. Her mother had once been counted among the ranks of the dark siders, and had carried those scars with her. Even the kindness and gentility that the Sith Master had shown her confirmed what Master Darex was now saying: Sith and Jedi were unhelpful words, words that did not adequately explain the meanderings of the soul. Some Jedi were cruel, some Sith were kind. The realities of the Force were commanded by intent, by the heart within, as much as they were commanded by the actions without.

 

There was more to the Force than what the Jedi taught, that much was certain. Her curiosity had awoken, her interest had been piqued.

 

"I don't mind helping people," she began at long last, very slowly as though she were choosing her words carefully. "But what about helping people by defending them? What if you have to kill one person to save someone else?"

 

She scuffed the floor of the crew lounge with her foot. "What makes one person's life worth saving over another? Why did you choose to leave Jax and Alana without a dad?"

 

The searching quality of her hazy eyes and the earnest hope in her voice bespoke the truth behind her question: in all things, TIrzah was attempting to make sense of her father's disappearance from her life, and coming up short. A fiery indignation burned just below the surface every time her thoughts turned to him, and she sought comfort in what the Jedi Master might have to share with her.

[Darex Trevelian]

It didn't take a Jedi Master to figure out that this went deeper than Jedi philosophy for Tirzah. Darex was silent for a long moment after her question. "Yes, we do defend people. It's why Jedi carry weapons. And it's also why our weapon blocks blaster bolts. It is not always lethal, although when it does have to kill, it is quick, painless, and bloodless. There are times when a Jedi has to kill someone to save others. But it's a last resort. A Jedi always seeks a peaceful solution first. There are almost always other ways to solve the situation without resorting to violence. But when violence is necessary, we act compassionately and humanely."

 

He sighed. "That was what had to happen with Faust. Our paths have crossed many times before, and most of them didn't involve violence. But in the end, he had to be stopped, and the only way he was going to stop was in death." He frowned suddenly, sensing something strong in the Force. It was like the breaking of an intense bit of concentration, mixed with frustration and resigned disappointment, but not despair. And it bore with it the familiar rage of Vladimir Faust. The sensation passed quickly, and he let it go. "Faust was going to destroy the galaxy. Everyone."

 

He lowered his voice. "Choosing to leave my children without a dad...that was never the choice," he replied quietly. "It was never, 'do I leave them fatherless, or do I not'. I knew that I could sacrifice my life to save the trillions of beings in the galaxy...and to save them. A father's life is lived for his children. If I could save them...My life was a small price to pay for that. I'd rather they have to live without me than die because I was unwilling to make that decision. That kind of self-sacrifice...it's what being a Jedi is all about." He paused again. "And I have to face the fact that I may need to eventually make that decision again. It breaks my heart, but I know they're worth dying for again and again if that's what it takes to keep them safe."

 

Just then, his comm chimed. He started; only Skye knew he was back in the galaxy, so it had to be her returning his call. He rose to cross over to get it, but before he did, he turned back to Tirzah. "I'm sorry you feel abandoned by your father. I'm sorry he's gone. I wish for your sake he was still alive. I don't have any answers for you about why he died...but if you want, I will help you seek them out."

 

He continued across the room then, and pulled out his comm. To his surprise, it wasn't Skye, but rather an announcement for all Jedi. It didn't say who it had come from, though it had Council authorization. He keyed it open. It was a text-based message, and he read it aloud. "All allies and members of the Order, please proceed with all haste to Kachirho on Kashyyyk, to pay respects to our fallen Grandmaster on his ancestral home in three days’ time."

 

"Fallen Grandmaster?" he commented. "So Master Kirlocca has fallen..." His voice trailed off in a moment of sorrow. Vaguely in the back of his mind, he saw the scene the Force had shown him before his rebirth. This was a key catalytic event. He didn't know what the state of the Order was, and while he hoped that this wouldn't set off an internal power struggle, the Force seemed turbulent, as if a moment of change was upon the galaxy. It concerned the Jedi Master. Unity had, even in his day, been something of a struggle for the Jedi.

 

"Well, we need to go pay our respects to Master Kirlocca," he said aloud. "He was a good wookiee, and a good Jedi. And...this seems like an opportune moment for me to reunite with the Jedi Order. They should know of my return."

 

Heading to the cockpit, he took them out of hyperspace and plugged in the new coordinates, heading towards Kashyyyk.

[Ary the Grey]

Aryian normally didn't reflect much in the long stretches between planetary systems in the cold reaches of space. It was simply something that was, normal to him as driving to a job for most other beings who never left their planets. But recent events had him deep in thought. Kirlocca's death, confirmed by the comm he'd received from the Jedi shortly before making the jump to hyperspace, deeply troubled him. His recent recovery of his memories also had him worried. Was there more locked away from him? The simple answer was he didn't know. He was who he was, a collection of knowledge and experience regarding combat and the Force, his other memories...blurry. He didn't even know if it had affected his personality much. Had he been like this since the Ares incident?

 

A warning klaxon sounded, and his eyes snapped open, reading at the same time what Saladin's onboard AI told him. "Master, I am experiencing a malfunction in my navicomputer. The course laid in to the hyperdrive has been corrupted, and I am unable to pull out of hyperspace." Aryian's face blanched, this was one of those malfunctions that usually just led to flying down a black hole or a small explosion on some asteroid somewhere in the middle of unpopulated space, or perhaps populated by frozen space monkeys, where nobody would know what happened. His hand reached out, gripping one control, and he closed his eyes halfway, grabbing the other with the Force. "Saladin, emergency override, transfer piloting controls to the main console." There was a minor pause before the AI chirped an acknowledgement. "Controls transferred, Master. Protocol requires me to remind you of the dangers in manually piloting a spacecraft travelling through hyperspace."

 

But Aryian didn't really pay attention to the warning, the Force was already flowing through him, guiding his movements. Softly, he spoke again, barely able to maintain enough concentration to ask a question. "Can you fix the problem?" Another pause as the AI assessed the situation deeper. "The navicomputer is beyond my ability to fix. I can bypass the hyperdrive to allow for manual shutoff, but this will require rerouting many power conduits to provide for the correct grid sequence for a scaled shutdown, as well as reprogramming several subroutines. There will also be significant damage to my systems upon triggering the hyperdrive shutdown, necessitated by causing a cascade failure in order to do so." Not good, Aryian thought. "How long?" "Approximately five point three seven galactic standard hours."

 

"...Do it."

 

They could wind up halfway across the rim in that amount of time, and Aryian had no idea where the Force was guiding him, only that it was away from dangers hidden in realspace. But, the Grey Master had no choice. He was at the mercy of the guiding will of the Force, something he hadn't trusted in a long time.