Felucia - Jedi Temple

[Meku Simka]

Felucia Jedi Temple, Felucia 

Felucia system, Thanium sector
Outer Rim Territories

 

The Mirialan Hopeful merely gaped, a nimble-fingered hand trembling. He had been too shaken, too... overwhelmed... to be of any help during the Invasion. Growing up in the confines of this very Temple, Simka was indeed astute enough in the Force to be able to sense its presence. The vile darkness, the sheer absence of luminosity, the void... it was his first time actually facing it, and it had paralyzed him on the spot. As he stared out across the temple grounds of the jungle world, he quivered. The Sith had retreated, but the depravedness of their recent presence still assaulted his acute senses.

More than fear, he felt guilt. He had been so numb the moment he had felt the vile presence, Simka hadn't been of any help at all, while his elder Knights and Masters had fought valiantly against the incursion. He could feel many pangs in his chest; so many voids where there once were bonds. Many had lost their lives in this battle, some whom he knew personally.

 

With a trembling hand Simka wiped the beginnings of a tear from his eye and steeled himself. Emotion, yet peace, he chanted to himself in his mind as he strolled towards the Temple Gates. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a resting Zabrak, and he couldn't help but feel for the exhausted Knight who, he assumed, needed the rest this badly because she had been engaged in brave defense of the Temple minutes prior.

 

Simka's grief began to turn into anger; at himself. He had passed his Hopeful Trials, yet here he was, useless. He needed to learn the ways of the Force, to ascend so he could become a defender of the peace, like her. Yet, he had no one to teach him. With the Sith attack, the Council probably had a lot more to focus on right now than a Padawan assignment.

Emotion, yet peace, he chanted again, trying to recentre himself in the Light with small, calming deep breaths. Good things come to those who wait, the holocron said. He had to be patient.

Edited July 6, 2021 by Simka

[Meku Simka]

Simka had been so absorbed in focusing on his breathing cycle and releasing his emotions into the Force, that he did not even register the Mon Calamari until she spoke, startling the green-skinned Mirialan.

 

"W-Whoa," he managed to gasp out as he looked at her, expression akin to a cattail deer caught in headlights. It took him a moment to regain enough composure to realize that he was talking to Jedi Master Leena Kil of all people.

 

The two had never interacted before; Simka certainly would have remembered if they had. But he had grown up in this Temple, so naturally he knew all the Jedi Masters that lived or served here, at least by reputation Leena Kil was certainly one of the Jedi Masters whose repute preceded them. In fact, it would not be far-fetched to say that the Hopeful had somewhat of a fanboy. Leena Kil and Armiena Draygo were the kinds of Masters that had their own fan clubs.

"Master Kil!" he gulped, before giving a short boy.

 

Then he registered what she had said, and gulped. He did not want her of all people to experience what he was feeling. He didn't want one of his heroes to think he was a potential future dark sider or anything. Just the thought of that was scary.

 

"I-I'm sorry," he explained, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I didn't wish to give into to grief or anger, I just..."

Lowering his hands, Simka looked around the Temple, before sighing. "They're so... vile, aren't they?" his gaze was distant as he spoke, referring obviously to Sith, the lingering remnant's of the Dark Side's presence at the very furthest edges of his senses. "I just feel so helpless. I wish I was strong enough to beat them all..."

 

@Leena Kil

[Meku Simka]

As she continued to speak, Simka eased into casual conversation. It was not every day he could get to talk to a Jedi Master, after all. Most of those who supervised his earliest education and training were ranked Knights. There always seemed to be an invisible wall between the eldest and the youngest in any particular group or organization; that was also true in the Felucia Temple it seemed.

"Thank you, Master... Leena..." he answered slowly, shoulders dropping slightly as he considered the next part of her inquiry. Tucking his hands into the sleeves of his cloak and crossing his arms underneath, the boy followed the elder Master as she seemed to take him on a tour of his own home. Still, for some reason, Simka continued to follow her and to want to converse with her. Her presence, the Light, was like a soothing balm against the backdrop of the maleficent dark side remnants still lingering in the air. Or perhaps, there was something else.

 

There was something about this lady...

"My name is Simka Suume, but you can just call me Simka of course," he answered calmly after a bit of silent contemplation, before becoming distinctly uncomfortable once the subject shifted to his training. "I-I.. well, I haven't had much training lately anyways. I mean..."

He gulped, embarrassed to say it out loud. How does one go about telling a Master why none of the Knights bothered with trying to take him on as an apprentice? Even if it was largely due to circumstance, it was still humiliating...

Edited July 8, 2021 by Simka

[Meku Simka]

Simka could only blink, silently, as the Mon Calamari trotted forwards a step ahead of him and continued to chatter. To say he was surprised by her eccentricity was an understatement. How coudl one die and be brought back to life as casually as she made it seem to have happened? She was pulling his leg, right? He tried to process all that she had been saying, and her jovial and carefree tone nonetheless made him smile.

 

Ultimately they arrived in the medical ward, and Simka flinched as he felt the Dark Side permeating the room, even if it was no more than vanishing remnant. Like a fish out of water, he instinctually leapt for the sea: he tried to direct his senses towards the overwhelming Light that was chasing away the Darkness instead.

 

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, the young Padawan stilled as the Jedi Master beside him continued to speak. It felt surreal; the way she was instructing him. For some reason, it felt so right, and Simka found himself absorbing her words like a sponge. He definitely jolted as he felt the rush of the Light, but the instant serenity it brought with it tempered him and he calmed, staring at the Mon Cala beside him with a wondering gaze.

 

Shaking his head silently, the Padawan then turned to the writhing Sith soldier before him. He resisted the urge to flinch again at the Darkness he felt emanating from the man. Still, he brought his hand up, palm facing the Darksider. 

 

Closing his eyes, Simka decided to just go with it and do as told. The Mirialan's chest rose and fell in meditation. He silently observed the Force, letting the Living Force infusing the medical ward caress him and whirl about his being. He heard it sing its silent symphony, but not through his ears, but his heart. Once he felt he had reached the level of Force immersion necessary, he opened his eyes, the aquamarine orbs now carrying a faraway look.

 

Simka took a step towards the soldier, a Duros, forcing himself with a quivering hand to stare into the patient's golden brown eyes. He felt it; the agony, the regret, the anger...

 

Simka closed his eyes and took in a couple of deep breaths, before opening them and speaking again. "This can end," he spoke up, surprised by the calmness in his own voice even though his thoughts betrayed him, "If you want it to. Let go of the Darkness."

 

The Duros growled at him, clenching his teeth and affixing a beastial snarl in Simka's direction. Golden eyes so vile it gave Simka goosebumps just staring into them. "You think you can turn me? You're nothing but a child."

 

However, even the Duros was surprised by how vibrant Simka's aquamarine eyes were, as if they were piercing deep into his soul. "I have neither power nor intent to turn anyone," he voiced calmly, directing a palm in the direction of the Duros Sith soldier and attempting to emanate a placating, serene aura, hoping that the writhing Duros would reach for the tranquility like a thirsty bantha towards a moisture pit. "I merely wish to end your suffering, and if you want to, we can do it. Together. There is no going back for you, is there? But you can make the right choice here, and," Simka reached out into the Light again, finding the right words to say, "And ensure a better future for yourself, at least."

 

The Duros attempted to answer but then screamed in agony as a jolt of pain shot through his body, before a single tear escaped his right eye. "... Help... me... I-I don't... know... how much longer..."

 

Simka glanced at Leena and nodded at her before bringing his palm closer to the Sith Soldier's chest. "Say no more," he began to channel whatsoever he could of the Living Force, the Light and Life that permeated the galaxy and bound the Universe together, into the writhing man. He knew he could not do much in terms of actual healing - that he left to the Jedi Master qualified for such - but the Light he channeled into the Darksider fought off the dark clouds of the Bogan surrounding the Duros, having a considerable effect much to his surprise. The soldier's screaming quietened, and the tension lines on his blue-skinned forehead eased somewhat. Simka even saw the golden tinge in the Duros' otherwise normally red eyes to begin to fade...

 

"T-That... better..." the Duros choked out. "... Please, help... more..."

 

Simka turned to Master Leena at that. He had helped tranquilize the man but he could not actually heal him...

Edited July 16, 2021 by Simka

[Meku Simka]

Background Theme - The Force Theme Extended

 

Simka let out a breath of relief once Master Leena finally got back around to assist him. As she took over healing the Duros from the inexperienced Hopeful, the latter could only watch the literal Master work in absolute amazement. The way Master Leena used the Force and the way her presence felt in it was more amazing than what Simka could describe in words. He listened intently as she spoke, absorbing her instructions like a sponge. Simka had never been interested in the healing aspects of the Force before this, but now, he had to admit they were certainly no joke.

 

The Hopeful followed the Master's instructions to letter, closing his eyes and withdrawing deep within himself. As the Master instructed, the Hopeful recalled his earliest lessons. His aunt's guidance, opening his mind and body up to the Force for the very first time alongside his crèche-mates. How he had opened himself up to the endless ocean of light, letting it gush down into his own self like an ethereal waterfall and cleanse away his woes and ills. Simka now reached out for that same light, letting it fall into him. This time, however, with a few deep breaths, he removed himself from the equation. Instead of falling into him, he let it flow through him, becoming a conduit and channeling the revitalizing flow through both his hands into the anaesthetized Duros' injured body.

"Whoa," the Mirialan gasped. The flow of the Force filled Simka with renewed vigor, even though he was only a conduit instead of a recipient. The spiritual residue bequeathed to the Mirialan a newfound surge in vitality. More than that, Simka experienced a profound euphoria, a feeling of total bliss that could not be described in words. A superlative serenity, affixed in the deepest chambers of his heart, one that reassured him that what Simka had just done was something beyond. Beyond the wars, the politics, the divided allegiances, the sectarianism and all the conflicts and discontent that plagued the Galaxy, what Simka had just done was something...

Irreproachable.

Immaculate.

 

Pure.

 

As the Duros' body mended itself and the Hopeful innately knew it was time to withdraw, Simka turned back towards Master Leena, mouth slightly agape. He stumbled backwards a bit, as the euphoria from acting as a conduit of the Living Force settled down, suddenly feeling awkward and... bereft.

 

"T-That was, I..." he quietened, simply staring at Leena, seeing her in a new light. Pure unadultered amazement sparkled in his pristine aquamarine eyes as he continued to stare at her. This is what she did, what she experienced, every day?!
 

"... Incredible."

Edited July 23, 2021 by Simka Suume

[Meku Simka]

Simka felt an otherwordly delight well up in his chest when Master Leena congratulated him, and he absorbed every word she said. He hadn't at all been prepared for the impromptu lesson he had certainly received, but it had already become a fond memory for him. Deep down, he began wishing that Master Leena would take him on as a full-time apprentice. It was a childish aspiration; no Knight had yet wanted to take him on, so how could he even expect that from a Master?

 

'... in all our endeavours.'

 

Wait, what?

 

"Are you saying--?"

 

The eccentric Jedi Master cut him off, enlisting the equipment he should bring along with him. Hours later, when Simka was ascending the boarding ramp of the freighter in the wake of Leena Kil, having ensured that he brought the stuff she had instructed him to bring, he was still mentally reeling from the implications that he was Master Leena's Padawan or something and that he eas going off world for the very first time.

Edited July 27, 2021 by Simka Suume