Chapter IX. 7930.923 to 7931.7xx CRC
Chapter IX. 7930.923 to 7931.7xx CRC
Quinlan Vos was wailing.
It had been over a week since their trip to the Outlander, and the boy still wasn’t over the fact that Obi Wan had far outstripped his earning in the gambling den.
Since then, they’d been organizing – during the evening, not only money had been won. Obi Wan had ended with eight blasters, a speeder, and three speeder-bikes on top of his 3000 credits earning. Most of the blasters were immediately bought back by their owners, adding nearly 400 credits more to his earnings.
Obi Wan did keep one weapon, remembering Arya mentioning he’d need one. While he preferred blades to firearms, he had to admit the Auresh-180 Blastech was a good weapon, that had the advantage of being modular. It was only when Arya had laughed that he realized the blaster he’d kept was the newest iteration of her own Trill-181.
The speeder and bikes, he’d bartered with a junk dealer, since none of their owners could buy them back, making about 700 credits more. All in all, not a bad haul for an evening.
Quinlan, truth be told, had been far from bad too – he’d come back with nearly 3000 credits, most of it earned by betting on fights in the rings. The returned Jedi was pretty sure he wouldn’t have done as well as a padawan the first time around.
Without any surprise, it was Arya and Tholme who’d brought back the largest haul.
On top of the money – which amounted to several times the amount which Obi Wan and Quinlan had brought back, Arya had won another starship. The HT-2200 medium freighter wasn’t really that good of a ship, thought they had no doubt it would be vastly improved once it was left in the expert hands of Shmi – but it had four independent cargo bays, each with their own environmental settings. For the kind of mission they were gearing toward, it would be perfect.
The Mirialan had also unlocked the CardSharkProficiency, which she’d found rather amusing, as she’d been gambling for years with her cover as a smuggler – but well, it had been the first time she’d played for so much, so it may be why the proficiency had only appeared now.
Tholme had brought back a small weapon shipment, that had originally been meant to be traded in the Outer Rim – three crates of Dorn-Leth-18, the go-to blaster from starting smugglers, a crate of old Cresh-72 field survival carbines, and even three brand new Xesh-45 sniper rifles, but also one crate of luma grenades and three more of stun grenades.
“Was this guy looking to sell things, or to start a war?” the dark-haired padawan had wondered when his master had listed his prize
“The two are similar enough in the Outer Rim.” Arya had been the one to answer with the shrug of someone well-used to the situation
Arya had traded back a spice crate for a dozen of B3-7T construction droids – the model wasn't the newest, but they were rather versatile, and would be very useful in the ruins of Zehava, Melida/Daan’s capital city.
She’d also already arranged to give a Nabooian smuggler his ship back in exchange for a full shipment of Nunas and their fodder for a few months. Obi Wan had been doubly impressed – for one, he hadn’t seen any Nabooian smugglers before, and had nearly doubted they even existed, and secondly, he wouldn’t have thought about the Nabooians swamp turkeys, but they were a genius idea for food, as they laid eggs every day and could forage for their own food.
And of course – they also had enough money to buy medical supplies, seeds and fertilizers, and so on.
But first – there was work to be done on the newly dubbed RedBird. System to check and upgrade, because the HT 2200 class were reputedly slow and ungainly, but they were also easily modifiable. Shmi Skywalker has gold in her hands, and Obi Wan is stunned to realize, when he’s dragged to help with the preparations, that she was also Force sensitive, though her presence was so subtle it was oh so easy to miss.
“You’re hiding yourself.” he blurted out, too surprised to filter his words
Shmi, who’d been painting a symbol in a deep shade of grey along the black edge line with blue she’d already added to the ship, paused, tilting her head in thought.
“It’s not good for a slave to be noticed.” she eventually stated in answer
“I know.” Obi Wan couldn’t help but agree – because while he hadn’t spent years with an explosive ship under his skin, and he probably won’t have the scars of the explosive collar he’d once worn on Bandomeer
He still remembered.
Shmi was surprised by the answer, but once more she took her time to answer, head tilted and focusing on her paint job – it was Ekkreth’s mark, he recognized, the same symbol he’d kept hidden in his clothes once upon a lifetime ago, freed but needing to remember.
“You do know.” she eventually agreed, and this time, Obi Wan had felt the slight movements around her, a nearly unnoticeable presence, lightly questioning the Force
Anakin’s mother had been a Force-user – and he’d never known.
Warm, familiar blue eyes smiled at him, and with a last glance at the symbol nearly invisible on her ship’s hull, Shmi put her paintbrush down, gracefully sitting cross-legged on the ground of the hangar, and gesturing for him to join her.
After a second of hesitation, Obi Wan did join her, and she pronounced words he hadn’t yet heard in this life-time, yet were still painfully familiar.
In Shmi’s voice, he heard the echo of the GarIpa on Bandomeer, an old Twi’lek who was slowly losing his sight – and probably would have lost his life too, hadn’t Qui-Gon and he managed to free the deep-mine’s slaves.
The voice of the GanAmu on Zygerria, the female Togruta barely adult, but already there for nearly a decade.
The voice of Beru Whitesun, whispering to little Luke when he couldn’t sleep, teaching the first freeborn of his line, the tales of his people.
¤.¤.¤
Far away, and just as long ago, Ekkreth stumbled on a place with countless slaves, a grand temple built for Depur,lost in the middle of the desert. There were no collars around the slaves’ necks, no chains around their feet, yet desperation hung above the slaves' heart as if they were trapped in the worst of ways.
“Why do you not run?” Ekkreth asked the slaves
“We dare not.” a slave answered, “There is no collar around our neck, nor chains around our feet because Depur has found a power far more terrifying.”
Ekkreth was surprised at the affirmation, for they hadn’t encountered such a thing in their travel yet. They hid, and watched, and witnessed what the slaves had told them; how Depur could move the world without a touch, and guess the slaves' thoughts before they voiced them.
So Ekkreth took the shape of a little girl, whosepresence was so bright she shone in the eyes of all.
The Depur’s greed was immediately awoken, for they needed to possess all that shone and was beautiful.
As soon as they were brought before Depur, Ekkreth raised their voice in false awe, “Oh great one, I see countless slaves, all kept in place without chains nor collar. I see how you keep them tamed without even leaving your throne, or ordering your overseer. How did you manage such a feat?”
At this, Depur thought the little girl very wise, and boasted easily “You have good eyes, little girl! I did this by mastering the currents of life itself!”
Ekkreth was troubled.
They could speak to creatures, or travel the land, but they didn’t know how one could find the currents of life itself.
Still, there were slaves to be freed, so Ekkreth took the form of a red bird, and travelled long and far, by secret paths, and hidden ways, until they arrived near a water point, where Bantha and her herd were staying.
“I feel you, Sky Walker!” Bantha called, for she had already been stung by Ekkreth once and knew the trickster’s way, “What has Depur done, for you to seek my counsel again?”
And so Ekkreth told her, about Depur, and his new tricks.
Just like Ekkreth, Bantha was troubled, for she had no solution to offer to this problem.
“Go and see Anooba, for she is cunning and may well have an answer for you.”
Ekkreth thanked Bantha for her words, and went back to their travel, venturing even further in the desert, until the suns were replaced by the moons, and the heat of the day by the cold of the night, until they arrived at the great cliff where Anooba lived with her pack.
There, the children and grand-children of Anooba tried to attack them, but Ekkreth was so swift to change shape that none could lay a fang or claw on them, and quickly, they realized who it was they were facing.
“I know you, Shape Changer.” one of the eldest children said, “Are you here to see Grand Mother again?”
“So am I.” Ekkreth agreed, and quickly, they were brought to the den where Anooba rested
Once more, Ekkreth told their tale.
Just like Bantha, Anooba found themselves unable to help.
“Go and see your daughter,” Anooba eventually advised, “For if neither resilience nor cunning can help, they surely her fury will set the slaves free.”
Once more, Ekkreth took flight, weary already, but knowing they couldn’t afford to rest, not as long as Depur still held the slaves with his powers.
They didn’t know how long they spent across the hidden paths, until finally, the wind started to cry, and a shadow as tall and dark as death fell upon him.
“Parent.” the great dragon said as she swept the air and settled by his side, “You have come a long way, and are weary from your road. Tell me, what has Depur done that made you travel with such haste?”
Once more, Ekkreth told their tale, beginning to think that no one knew the secrets to life itself.
But instead, Leia smiled wisely,“ The answer is easy, parent. Isn’t Ar-Amu the mother of all?”
And finally, Ekkreth finally heard the whispers who had been following them all through their travel.
“Sky Walker,” the voice whispered fondly,“ always looking to the horizon.”
The answer, they realized, had been with them all along. They just had to listen to their mother.
If the Depur could see without watching, punish without touching and hear the silence.
Then Ekkreth would learn to silence the silence itself, endure the punishment, and hide without the night.
For seven days and seven nights, Ekkreth rested in a hidden place, listening to Ar-Amu’s voice as she told them how to work with life.
Not master it never, for they weren’t Depur and knew they couldn’t own life, only learn how to listen to it, encourage it, and work with it.
Slaves, Ar Amu told them, were like the desert.
Countless, and tiny, and negligible alone, yet put them all together, and they could rage and destroy, but also shape and change.
And so, Ekkreth when back to the temple, and taught the slaves the secret ways to hide themselves even in plain sight, to silence their thoughts even in their head, and to push the pain away until Depur was gone.
And ever since, all slaves learn the Yanariya.
For no chain has yet been made that can’t be broken.
I tell you this to save your life.
¤.¤.¤
“I will remember.” Obi Wan answered automatically, mind still reeling from the story
The Amavikkan weren’t Force users – a whole people, especially one as disparate as the slaves were, couldn’t be. Could they?
Except – there was a content hum in the Force, and now that he knew to look for it, he realized that Shmi’s presence was slightly altered – an urging to look away, not to give her too much attention.
It didn’t feel that powerful in terms of Force-use, but it was effective enough, probably even more so on the non-Force-sensitive.
In his surprise, he hadn’t even heard Arya arrived, Obi Wan noticed – nearly hadn't heard her voice answer Shmi as he had.
“I’ve received the healing supply.” she explained, the tears in her eyes already hidden – the returned Jedi couldn’t help but wonder what it was, that had affected her so in the story, but he didn't pry, “As soon as you’re done upgrading the RedBird, we’re ready to go. Master Tholme had a connection who pushed us ahead on the waiting line on Hetzal Prime.”
Three weeks after their trip to the Outlander – the RedBird and the SandwalkingMooka were leaving the Jedi temple, taking the Corellian Run Hyper-lane down until Christophsis.
They had met with Mace before leaving.
“You’re going to stop a war with three masters, two padawans and a mechanic?” the Korun said slowly, as if trying to make them understand how dumb of an idea it was
“It’s the will of the Force.” Obi Wan had pipped with an angelical smile – Arya had wondered if the vein beating of the grand master of the order’s brow would burst, clearly, the expression was one he was familiar with
“Obi Wan had a vision.” she explained a bit more – visions were what they’d settled on to explain their knowledge, “And I need a base for my Shadow cover.”
He eyed the group – Quinlan, bursting with barely contained excitation at the idea of the mission, a stark contrast with the rest of the group, that was presenting the front of perfectly serene Jedi master.
Even the former slave had a better hold on her emotions than the boy!
But – the boy, who so often worried the council for his dark tendencies, also seemed far more focused than usual, and the shatter-points around him, thought still as numerous, seemed less ominous.
The dark-skinned master glanced at Arkous, Arya and Obi Wan – but wasn’t surprise to see that their shatter-points were just as ethereal and unreadable as usual. He centered himself, easily hearing the appreciative whispers of the Force.
“No help has been asked from the Melida/Daan government.” he pointed out, already knowing he was going to lose this argument – and not really minding, truth be told
“There is no government, Mace.” Tholme said brusquely, having verified himself what Arkous, Arya and Obi Wan had told him while they were preparing to help, “Two of the factions are busy killing each other and denying the mere existence of the third, all the while gunning them down all the same. Third faction, might I add, consisting of their own children.”
Mace groaned.
He wasn’t that surprised – after all, a quick search on the holonet when they’d told him where they wanted to go had quickly produced rather telling results.
Those guys weren’t even able to agree on their planet’s name!
As for their Senatorial position – it was, of course, empty, as it had been for nearly three centuries as neither faction wanted to allow the other a say in the Senate.
The team in front of him was right, those weren’t people who were going to call for help.
“The Senate won’t like us interfering.” he warned them
“Since when have we become dogs of the Senate?” Tholme asked rather harshly
“You sound like Yan.” Mace sighed tiredly
“I sound like any Jedi who’ve been out there a bit and has bothered to listen to people, Mace.” the shadow master corrected gently, “People don’t believe in us anymore. They see us as children-stealer, enforcers of the Senate with mysterious powers.”
“We are the peacekeepers of the Republic.” the master of the order corrected weakly, not having expected this assessment
“Then let us keep peace.”
Mace had sighed once more, even more heavily than before, before waving them away, “Go. Help the people.”
They hadn’t wasted a moment.
Mace himself had glanced at his pad, and quickly gone on the holonet, wondering if the regular citizens’ vision of them really was as bad as the Shadow had hinted – but knowing Tholme well-enough to know he wasn’t one for exaggeration.
He eyed the list of files pertaining to the Order’s population in recent years and older days, and knew he’d just gained a new topic to worry about. He needed help.
Scrolling through the rather long list of contacts on his holopad, he finally hit the correct frequency.
A tall blond-haired, blue-eyed human appeared – though of course his coloring couldn’t be seen through the usual blue sheen of the projection, “Master Din.”
“Master Windu.”
“I was wondering if you were available for a research project, since you’re currently Temple-bond while your padawan goes through his course-work?”
An eyebrow was raised in a gesture Mace was far too familiar with, “What about?”
“The Order’s effective.” Mace said, explaining further, “I want to know about our recent numbers, their evolution, and the reason for it, but also a comparison with our numbers before the Ruusan Reformation.”
“Have you been speaking with my former Master?” the knight couldn’t help but ask, mirth clear in his voice, “Never-mind, I’m rather fond of History… And the topic does sound interesting, I’m in!”
“I’ll send you what I’ve already gathered.” Mace said, “And tell Master Nu to give you access to the relevant Master-level data.”
This visibly surprised the knight, but he refrained from commenting, instead taking his leave to start working on his new assignment.
Mace leaned back on his seat, taking a moment to relieve the tension in his back, then called another frequency. With Tholme going to Melida/Daan – he’d have to another shadow take a deeper look at what had been pointed out to him.
“Master Dooku.” he greeted, as the regal silhouette of a middle-aged human appeared
¤.¤.¤
Hetzal Prime was a beautiful agriworld, with a population of over forty billions.
It was said that all the crops in the galaxy could grow on the planet – which wasn’t quite true, thought not that far off, which made the planet a rather popular choice for agricultural endeavor of all kind, and meant some could wait months before being granted the authorization to land for trading – Tholme’s connection had thankfully helped them avoid the rather lengthy waiting list.
They landed in Aguirre City, the capital, where they were met with a Bothan Jedi from the Agricorp. The small, furry man was a beacon of the Living Force, who quickly and expertly oriented them toward crops that grew quickly and in depleted grounds – they didn’t give the more tasty products, but were nutritious and easy to grow. Exactly what a war-torn planet needed.
The Jedi was great in giving them advice they wouldn’t have known about, and didn’t let them leave without giving them some very basic training and data-modules about Agricorp Force ways to encourage plants to grow, soil to heal and purify, or repel insects and plant diseases.
After the green of Hetzal – even from space, Melida/Daan was quite different.
Which was rather disheartening – especially when you took in the fact that the planet was classified as an agriworld too.
It was startling, Obi Wan mused – how well he remembered.
He directed Arya and Shmi to land, not too close to the city, in a crack barely large enough to let the two starships land – the returned Jedi was honestly astonished that Shmi had managed the maneuver so smoothly, given that she was piloting the larger ship, but clearly, Anakin had inherited far more from his mother than he’d ever known.
As soon as they landed, they quickly got out the camouflage-net and jammers that would help hide the SandwalkingMooka and RedBird from the eyes, and from regular scanning.
The next step was scouting – and establishing contact with the Young.
“Quinlan and I should go.” Obi Wan had quickly thrown out, “The Young don’t trust adults.”
Arkous didn’t see a problem with it – Tholme was more hesitant.
While he’d already put his padawan in quite dire situations, given that the young Kiffar was undergoing shadow training – it still didn’t mean he felt comfortable letting two eleven-year-old kids run alone around a warring-zone.
As if feeling his dilemma, Arya sighed, “I’ll go with them.”
“No offense, Jen’Nwit,” the returned Jedi contradicted, “but no matter how young you look for your age, you’re still an adult.”
She winked – and suddenly, Obi Wan just knew the green-skinned woman was about to do something outrageous. Arkous, he could feel through their bond, was intrigued, but didn’t know anything more than he did – Arya was clearly looking forward to sowing chaos.
“What the kriff!”
Quinlan’s voice broke on the last word, making Obi Wan snort – but he couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment – even Tholme’s surprise was easy to feel in the Force, and clearly, not even Arkous had expected what had just happened.
What – being his wife’s silhouette shifting, the Force humming – and said wife suddenly looking about as old as she had when she’d first stepped foot on Dromund Kaas.
“Do I look young enough now?”
“That’s one useful talent.” master Tholme praised, a clear appreciative note in his voice, “Is there any way to learn it?”
“I’m afraid it’s something I’ve inherited from birth.” Arya contradicted, “And it took me years to be able to do that much.” she admitted, “But I can look into an amulet doing something similar…” she mused, already thinking about it
“Amulet? Isn’t that like… something Sith did?” Quinlan mused, sounding both disapproving and intrigued in a way only a teenager could
“It does come from Sith sorcery.” Arya agreed, having forgotten that Jedi tended to see Force imbued artifacts with distrust, “Though I’ve managed to adapt not to use the depravities Sith used to make the magic work.”
“I remember your father finding your first attempts very entertaining.” Arkous reminisced, his lips twinging in amusement
Arya threw him a dirty glare that didn’t contradict him, though she added, “You were the main reason I tried to learn sorcery. To hide from you!” she rolled her eyes, “Of course, I hadn’t realized yet that our bond made it quite impossible.”
Quinlan and Obi Wan laughed at how put-out yet fond she sounded – and though they weren’t quite as expressive, it was clear that both Shmi and Tholme were just as amused.
Arkous – merely looked smug yet happy, like always when his relationship with the Mirialan was called up.
Soon after, the trio had soon gotten to scouting the area, Obi Wan taking point, since he was the one who had the best idea about where they would find the Young.
It took them a couple of hours to creep near to the capital city, where most fights occurred – soon slipping in the sewers and maze of underground tunnels.
After that, it only took them one more hour to find the Young, Obi Wan feeling quite impressed with Quinlan’s ability to track them down – though he had the feeling Arya was letting him lead, the padawan’s abilities still were quite impressive for his age.
The returned Jedi felt his breath catch in his throat, as two young teenagers confronted them in a tunnel.
Cerasi – light skinned tarnished by grim and dust, copper hair in a messy bun and light green eyes tired and far too old for her face. Nield, skin just as light and just as grim, with brown hairs and eyes, just as old and tired as Cerasi’s.
His emotions were loud, he knew – so loud Quinlan glanced toward him, the talented boy able to pick up on his pain/grief/love/happiness/hope easily. Arya, thankfully, took the lead.
“We’re envoys from the Jedi. We’ve come to help.”
Hope and mistrust were warring in the two child-soldiers’ eyes.
“And we should believe you why?”
“We have lightsabers.” Obi Wan said dryly, finding his voice and knowing fudging things wouldn’t help, “But more importantly, we have healing material, and food, and we’re willing to listen, and to help.”
It took some more talk before they eventually managed to convince the two leaders to come to the starships with a small team, to check on their truthfulness.
They’d taken a team of older Young at first, which, of course, Obi Wan wasn’t too surprised by.
What had surprised him – was to see Arya among the people present when the team arrived, ready to help give out medical supplies and food.
It took him quite a few moments to realize it was a rather impressive mix of Force illusion and manipulation – once more, reminding him that, clearly, the woman wasn’t a Jedi.
“How… How?”
It had been Nield, always brasher than Cerasi, that finally broke down and asked.
Obi Wan understood all that the boy was asking in his broken sentence – he’d dreamed about it once upon a lifetime, after all. About Jedi, suddenly appearing to save them all, with all they needed to do it. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy – no matter how he wished for it, the Young were still at war, and would be for as long as they didn’t manage to force a cease-fire with the Melida and the Daan.
And for that to happen, said Melida and Daan would have to finally recognize that they were fighting against their children. Recognize the existence of the Young, something both sides were quite reluctant to do, despite not hesitating to fight them in the ruins of Zehava.
Over the following days, slowly, they gained the trust of the Young, first convincing them to take the medical supplies, then to come daily for food – and finally, after a ten-day, they were finally sitting around a table, talking strategy.
In that lapse of time, of course, the Jedi hadn’t stayed idle, Tholme and Arkous both scouting the capital city to learn more about the situation. Both quickly coming to the conclusion that Obi Wan had been right – only the Young were in any state-of-mind to negotiate right now, and both Melida and Daan would have to be brought to the negotiation table screaming and shouting.
¤.¤.¤
“I’m honestly impressed you managed to survive alone, the first time around.” Arkous had admitted the third day of their stay on the planet
“I’d really like to scream at your master.” Arya had added – the serious tone rather strange with how young she currently looked
After all – with the years of war she’d lived through, it was only here, on Melida/Daan, that she’d unlocked the GuerrillaFighterProficiency – not to mention the leaps and bound progress she’d made with her Trap and Strategyskills.
“I know you did love him, but… what kind of man leaves a child alone on a planet like this?” she couldn’t help but ask
“A broken one.” Obi Wan had to admit
It had taken him years to realize that what Qui-Gon had done – wasn’t something any regular master would have. For a long time, he’d tried to hide behind the state of master Tahl's health, or the mission parameters – but once he’d become Anakin’s master…
Well…
Once Obi Wan put all his adventures by Qui-Gon’s side in the new spectrum of being the master – some things stood out. Strikingly so.
Qui-Gon had loved him, sure enough – but the master hadn’t been ready for a new padawan, and while he’d healed along the way, he’d also induced plenty of unhealthy character traits in Obi Wan – among which a low self-esteem and an overly developed self-sacrifice sense were but a few.
He was rather thankful that neither Arkous nor Arya had pushed the topic – despite feeling their rage about it. It was rather terrifying, to feel not one but two people feel so freely such powerful emotions – all for his sake. It was also rather satisfying, he had to admit – because no matter how deep his bond with Qui-Gon had been, it had never been that powerful.
Probably because the man had always held back somewhat, out of an instinctual fear of being betrayed and hurt again after Xanathos – and conversely, Obi Wan too had held back, because of his mirroring fear of always being compared to the prodigal padawan, of not being good enough, of being left behind once more…
Things had gotten better over the years, sure enough – but both Obi Wan and Qui-Gon had never been good at expressing themselves, something that had only grown worse after master Tahl’s death. And all that had been accomplished, all the bonding and camaraderie grown between them– Qui-Gon had accidentally torn down because of one little boy.
Obi Wan had known that his master hadn’t meant to renounce him when he’d brought Anakin to Coruscant – but his words had been far too equivocal, and Obi Wan had been hurt. And after that – as a young knight, with a too young padawan – it was never the proper time to grieve and finally get over his master’s parting words.
Obi Wan had never blamed Anakin — but while he’d missed his master, he’d also blamed him; for saddling the far too young man with a child to raise, protect and mentor. And the more the years went by, and he struggled in raising Anakin – because, let’s face it, it had never been an easy endeavor – the more he’d realized all that had been wrong with his own padawanship.
Such as abandoning him on a war-torn planet, without his lightsaber, at thirteen-year-olds.
Not, of course – that Anakin’s padawanship’s had been smooth-sailing all the way, far from it. Obi Wan’s errors had merely been different ones.
As soon as the Young had started to consistently believe in them, the Jedi had started to move out – never, of course, leaving the ships unprotected – to scope out better the situation, and how to bring out peace.
As much as the Jedi were peace-bringers – this wasn’t a situation where talking would work.
Or at least – not right away.
The Melida and the Daan were far too deeply entrenched in their hatred to deign to sit around a negotiation table. The Young were ready to fight to force the two adults’ factions to talk about peace – and sadly, they were right.
Obi Wan grieved, as day after day, he could see the light of innocence die in Quinlan’s eyes, just like it already had in the Young’s eyes.
Each night, the two padawans went to sleep in the middle of a cuddle pile of canines – and each night, the pile grew larger as one by one, the youngest and more wounded of the Young were brought to the starships’ encampment – and didn’t leave.
A month went by – and while peace wasn’t any closer, at least the Young were now better off. Even Tholme, that was probably the most Jedi-like of the three masters in their team – probably by din of being the only real Jedi master aboard – was starting to show clear signs of his patience growing thinner.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Arya all but growled as a team brought out their wounded, her eyes glowing golden and green in the dim light of the nighttime lights of the RedBird
“Cerasi, Nield.”
The two young – far too young – war-leaders had been stunned when Arya had revealed that her appearance was an illusion, but hadn’t felt betrayed, as she hadn’t wasted any time in revealing her trick as soon as they’d started to talk. Still – the half-Mirialan, tended to use both her younger looking appearance and her older one freely, taking the smaller form around the Young she knew were more wary around adults.
Currently, she was looking younger even, probably under ten-year-old, and curled protectively around the little boy they’d just rescued – who wasn’t any older, and even delirious from the fever born from a festering blaster-wound, still couldn’t help but tense when an adult came in sight.
“Tomorrow, we take the war to the Melida and the Daan.”
The two nodded.
Nield had advocated for it the loudest, but both had told them – that neither Melida nor Daan would come to the negotiation table unless they were already beaten. Now, the Jedi finally agreed – yet they couldn’t enjoy being right.
After all – how mad did one need to be – to exhaust even the patience of the mythic Jedi?
¤.¤.¤
Obi Wan felt Cerasi’s heart break, as once more she mourned a father still alive yet too stubborn to listen. Felt Nield try to harden his heart once more, as the side of his family proved once more how deaf they were.
The next day, they were in the SandwalkingMooka’s mess – with maps sprawled on the tables – and plotting.
Obi Wan was impressed with Arya’s knowledge of war.
It wasn’t the same instinctual knowledge Arkous and him somehow seemed to share – it was knowledge born from experience, from countless battlefields, countless losses – and never-ending hope and determination.
Seeing her on the battlefield was both far more impressive and far more horrible than seeing her sparring.
Arya in the sparring ring was beautiful, full of life and enjoying each moment.
Arya on the battlefield was all of that – if not for her glinting eyes, that told a story of both regret for the needless bloodshed and unwavering determination. And on Melida/Daan – once more – countless lives were cut down.
Obi Wan grieved for each life he took on the battlefield, but knew it was inevitable.
Arkous – didn’t relish in the wasted lives, but respected all true warriors, and enjoyed the thrill of life-or-death battle.
Tholme was a hardened Jedi master, the years he’d spent as a watchman having already taught him the atrocities that war could sow — he did his duty without any joy nor regret.
Quinlan – Quinlan had his first taste of war, and while he’d already seen some of the depravities people could do in this galaxy, this was a new low, and left its mark on him. But the Kiffar rose to the challenge – and came out on the other side a bit more jaded, but also far more assured about his role as a Jedi. Finally, understanding why they defined themselves as peace-keeper, rather than warriors.
Arya knew both how to enjoy the fights yet grieve for the life cut down – and on the battlefield, her three familiars were far more terrifying than in their usual cuddly-size, making Obi Wan finally understand why they had a whole room for them back at the Temple.
The fighting was taking its toll on them all, and soon the only way for Quinlan to sleep was tugged her in the middle of the ever-growing puppy pile in the midst of the SandwalkingMooka’s cargo area – Obi Wan had soon followed, then Arya.
Little by little, the Young started to gain territory for the first time – pushing both the Melida and the Daan back toward their headquarters.
In the following months, they destroyed the weapon fabrics on each side, took possession of the spaceport and the three lone starfighters that makes the Melida/Daan fleet, and gained control of the communication tower.
The Melida and the Daan kept fighting, taking up blades once the blasters were gone, ready to take up rocks once the blades were dulled and broken, fists once there were no more rocks to throw.
The Young didn’t let them get this far.
They hit the only thing that they knew both Melida and Daan would rush to protect.
The Halls of Evidence.
Memorial of the dead – holos of countless Melida and Daan, spanning decades and centuries, enshrined in gigantic rectangular black buildings. And all of those memories left behind were speaking of death, war, and revenge for a vendetta all had long since forgotten.
Nield had wanted to raze them all down.
Cerasi had protested, maintaining that as bleak as those holo were, they still were the only things left of their ancestors.
It was Arkous, who like Tholme tended to stay back since they knew the Young had trouble believing in adults, who convinced Nield against destruction.
After all – Nield may not be a Force user, he was still filled with anger – enough of it that if he could touch the Force, doubtlessly, his eyes would be the golden of those touched by the Dark side.
Who better than a Sith, to teach him to canalize and use his hate, rather than get consumed by it?
Who, better than the last one of his specie, to convince him not to destroy the only traces of their past they had?
The Melida and the Daan were quick to establish a cease-fire and ally against the Young once they started to destroy the large, black buildings.
They were furious, but to protect the resting place of their dead, they finally agreed to a parley with the children.
They met in a large plaza – who’d gotten only larger thought the destruction of the surrounding buildings.
Each Young that entered the area carried some holo-recording with them. As they spread around the area, each of them activated them – without the sound.
The Halls of Evidence may have been destroyed – but they were emptied before.
And without the sound – neither the Melida nor the Daan could differentiate between the projection of their ancestors.
It took a long time, and multiple arguments, but that first demonstration had finally shocked the adults enough to remember who the Young were — to realize it was their own children they slaughtered on the battlefield.
Three months after their arrival on Melida/Daan, the SandwalkingMooka and the RedBird finally left the canyon where they were hidden – and unloaded the building droids, the Nunas and the seeds.
Six months after their departure, the SandwalkingMooka and RedBird were landing back in the Jedi hanger bays of Coruscant once more.
Though only Arya and Arkous could see it, they’d all earned the Friend of Melidaan Perk, which gave a social bonus with any Melidaan, and a smaller one with their allies.
Obi Wan and Quinlan Vos both had earned two new beads – a violet one, for wartime exploits, the kind of which hadn’t been seen in over a millennium.
The returned Jedi could see the shock in most masters' eyes as they took in the bead. And the sorrow and acceptance in Yoda’s eyes.
A green one – to symbolize the Living Force, for the harrowing work they’d put in to start making the planet livable once more. For the three months of back-breaking work, clearing the rumbles, building new structures, and more importantly, making new farms around the slowly reviving Zehava.
It had been quite eye-opening for Obi Wan, to realize just how critical the Agricorp work could be on a warring world – as a teenager the first time around, he’d felt it rather degrading to be booted out of the Knight training to be sent to the Corps… Now, a lifetime later, he’d gained a whole new appreciation for the work they did – and wondered why they weren’t told more about it as children. He would have been so much less afraid of his future, if he’d realized just how much – the Jedi Corps were just that.
Jedi.
Not knights, sure enough – but Jedi all the same.
Still, though the war was ended, and the reconstruction well on its way, Obi Wan didn’t delude himself. While they’d put the basis in position for the newly re-christened Melidaan’s new government, things still had a long way to go.
But this time – with crops to plant, droids to clear the rubble and build anew, bacta to treat the wounds – and, most of all, an alive Cerasi…
Things were looking up for the planet – far more than the first time around – and not only had Arya and Shmi both earned a permanent, private landing space near the cantina they had started, not to mention the ownership of said cantina; but even the Jedi had been granted the promise of assistance on the planet from the new government – which truth be told was more than many governments afforded them.
Mace had tried to look stern as he listened to their report – but it was clear that the rather young master of the order was in truth rather pleased about the unorthodox mission’s outcome.
¤.¤.¤
It wasn’t easy to fall back into the peaceful rhythm of the Jedi temple. Or rather – as difficult as it was, it was still far too natural for Arya and Arkous, unwittingly proving to Obi Wan that what Tholme, but also his padawan, had felt as grueling, the couple had only taken as par for the course.
Truth be told – Obi Wan, too, hadn’t been that much worn by the battlefield as he'd have been once upon a time.
No matter how bad it had felt as a padawan the first time around – for the war-torn returned Jedi who’d already lived through far worse, Melidaan…
Hadn’t been that bad.
And what a sobering realization it was.
“So, anything else next?” Arkous asked as he sprawled on the decadently comfortable sofa
“On the galactic scale? Well, there’s a new float that’ll be launched at the beginning of next year… and lost. And a mission gone wrong will end up in a bloodbath for the Jedi and the Haat’Mando’ade.”
“Better prevent both if we can.” the red-skinned man agreed, “And on the personal side?”
Obi Wan hesitated.
As a Jedi, he should abstain from egoistical choices, and focus only on the greater good.
But well – the returned Jedi had long since realized he had never been that good of a Jedi. Not, at least, according to modern Jedi wisdom.
“Qui-Gon Jinn took me as padawan in 7932.” he mused, “That was the first, but certainly not the last time, I encountered his former padawan.” he paused for a second, “Xanathos Du Crion.”
He hadn’t realized, before he said his name – just how many contradictory feelings he still had about the man…
Xanathos had been his first encounter with a Dark Sider – but while he’d seemed so monstrous to him as a teenager – in hindsight, Obi Wan only saw a lost young man.
Not Jedi material, sure enough, that ship had sailed and sunk for him.
Not even a good guy by any measure – but while what Offworld Corporation had been up to under his leadership had been reprehensible enough, and his attempts against the Temple itself were to be avoided at all coast…
Compared to Sidious, truly, Qui-Gon’s fallen padawan’s crimes had merely been a speckle of dust.
He needed to be put to trial – and probably to spend quite a few hours with a mind-healer.
He didn’t deserve the horrible death he’d inflicted on himself on Telos IV.
The returned Jedi was extensively interrogated by Arya, the shadow master taking note of any and everything of note, before starting to dig into Offworld Corporation.
Then, they had been rather surprised to receive a call from an unexpected source.
Feemor Din had been Qui-Gon’s first padawan, for all that the Jedi had only finished the knight’s formation after his previous master’s death – but when Xanathos had fallen, he’d been repudiated along the Dark Sider.
Of course, Obi Wan suspected that this had been accidental, Qui-Gon failing to realize the weight of his words, still reeling as he’d been from the betrayal of the aristocratic padawan. But Qui-Gon was stubborn to a fault, and as such, had never taken the step to correct his mistake – which was why the returned Jedi had only learned the man’s existence after the death of his master, when he’d just taken Anakin as a padawan.
Feemor was a good scholar, and a better diplomat – he also lacked the flair for dramatics most shared in their lineage, being instead rather quiet and reserved.
He was also kind and patient, and had become a great friend.
The man was welcomed in their quarters, where he briefly explained the project Mace had given to him – and the conclusions he’d come to in a mere six months.
“The order is dying, isn’t it?”
Arkous, Arya and Obi Wan shared a glance, and let the man expand on his first affirmation.
“I didn’t really expect much when I started this project.” a shrug, “I mean, I knew there were less Jedi than during the wars, but it didn’t seem that important, after all, we’re at peace…”
He nodded gratefully at Obi Wan, who’d started to make tea as soon as he’d arrived, and was now placing a cup in his hands, the man automatically calming himself as he gently inhaled the aroma of the floral mix.
“For thousands of years, our numbers were either constant or growing…” he said, “And then, within a few generations after the Ruusan Reformation, our numbers started to drop.” a sigh, “It was too bad at first, there were less new Jedi, but less fall than there had been during the war, so it balanced…”
“But it didn’t stop there.” Arya prompted
“It didn’t.” Feemor agreed, “An age limitation was put in place after one Jedi too many who’d entered the Order older than usual dropped out.”
“And the numbers dropped again.”
“And the numbers dropped again.” Feemor nodded, “The aging out came after, as there weren’t enough people to train all the initiates…”
“And rather than repel the limitation on the number of padawan per master, they reduced the number padawan.” Arkous completed, eyes raised to the roof
Feemor nodded.
“So I started to wonder a bit more about how things were before the Reformation.”
By the way his fingers were twitching around his cup of tea, Obi Wan was pretty sure the usual even tempered man was barely preventing himself from pacing.
“There are far more Force-sensitive children born from Force-sensitive couple than non Force-sensitive, or mixed ones. And the number of fall that can really be attributed to familial attachment or love are far less than what I expected.” he said, “Those had increased before the Reformation, sure enough… But it was more correlated with the war than those bonds.”
A shrug.
“So I went further.” he admitted, eyeing them both, “Which, by the way… How the kriff did a pureblood Sith end up as a crèche master?”
Arkous and Arya both laughed at that, while Obi Wan groaned.
Of course, someone as conscientious and scholarly as Feemor would realize, once he started to look into it!
“Never mind,” Feemor waved his question, “master Yoda told me he knew, that’s good enough for me.” a sigh, “What I mean is… In your era, Force-sensitive families were more common among Jedi than Sith! So, clearly we can’t say that having a family is something that lead to the Dark Side!”
“Of course.” Arkous nodded, “While us pureblood Sith valued family, most Sith were far too obsessed with power to want to share it, even with a spouse or a child.”
“So I’ve made a presentation. And I’d like your testimony about the old era in it.”
“I don’t mind.” Arkous agreed, “Though of course, the fact that I know far more about the Sith than the Jedi will be rather impossible to miss.”
“Poor Mace.” Obi Wan couldn’t help but quip, “The headache you’re going to cause him when he realizes you have no intention of hiding your origins!”
At that, even Feemor, no matter how tired and stressed out he looked, had to laugh – before turning toward Arya, “What about you? Would you mind telling me more about the Jedi?”
“How bold of you to assume I’m not a Sith, too.” Arya mused with a smirk
“I thought one of you to had to be a Jedi for you to end up in the Temple.” Feemor explained, looking rather curious now
“Well, my parents were.” Arya admitted, “I could tell you a few things.”
¤.¤.¤
Which is how they found themselves in front of the High Council a week later, with Feemor and Sehn, his padawan, a Noorian teenager with long dark hair tied in a heavy braid, golden skin, and stripped eyes, azure and violet, that nearly glowed.
Feemor wasn’t the maverick that Qui-Gon was – so rather than state things bluntly like he had with Arya, Arkous and Obi Wan, he built up to it little by little, starting with current numbers before going back in time little by little.
Sehn was producing charts and lists at all the right times, that were automatically shared around the room for all to examine better.
As the presentation went on, they could see each member slowly start to understand what Feemor was leading toward.
By the time Feemor had gone back in time enough to ask Arkous and Arya more about the Sith and Jedi of their era’s view on family, padawan and apprenticeship, and so on – the whole Council had come to the same conclusion as him.
If nothing changed – their Order would continue to die a slow, agonizing death.
The fact that Arkous was talking about the Sith’s view so intimately took several minutes to dawn on them, so unsettled were they with the whole presentation.
“We thank you for your work.” Mace said to Feemor before the rest of the Council members could stop to think about Arkous’ true nature too deeply, “Do you have any suggestions?”
“Several.” the knight agreed, “The most immediate would be to drop the age restriction to be chosen as a padawan, or at least extend it.”
There were mutters around the room, but not too heated.
“Still,” an old Thisspisian master pointed out, “we can’t well deplete the Corps either.”
“True.” Feemor agreed, “which is why we need to up our recruitment too.”
“We can’t well force people to give up their children!” a tall, dark-haired human contradicted
“Master Giiett is right.” master T’un agreed
“What about sending more seekers to the Outer Rim?”
The masters turned their attention toward Obi Wan, surprised by the padawan’s intervention, but while some were frowning at the fact that he’d dared give his opinion, others were looking intrigued.
“People in the Core worlds and stable Mid Rim ones don’t have a reason to give up their child.” he explained, seeing that he’d caught their attention, “But in Hutts worlds or other planets where the situation isn’t as stable as in the Republic, there’s a lot of people who are never found, and among them children whose parent would want to give them a chance at a better life.”
Arya was nodding at that – and several Council members were looking interested by now.
“He is right.” master Yaddle mused, the green-skinned alien eyeing the rest of her fellow masters solemnly, “It’s our duty as Jedi to help people… Even if, sometimes, it is merely by giving a child a better chance at life.”
Yoda hummed his agreement at that.
“Speaking about seekers…” Feemor added, “We should also see about relaxing the age limit to be admitted in the order.”
This recommendation – to no one's surprise – was far more controverted, masters soon trading arguments for and against, the noise quickly climbing in the chamber under Sehn’s wide eyes, the Noorian clearly not having expected the debate to grow that heated. Obi Wan couldn’t help but smile, rather amused – usually the High Council tended to avoid letting people see those heavy debates, but the presentation Feemor had just done had been mind-shattering enough that they were forgetting their usual sense of decorum.
“It’s true that children who arrive later in the Order will have a harder time adapting.” Arya agreed, “But while they may not all be able to adapt to the life of sacrifice you ask of your knights… Couldn’t they be a good fit for the Corps?”
The argument broke through the hubbub, the masters clearly taking the time to think about it and finding the suggestion rather agreeable.
“Speaking about the Corps…” Arkous said, “Do you realize that most of the initiates know so little about them that they see them as a sideline for those who aren’t good enough to be knights, rather than other ways to serve the Force?”
This affirmation surprised quite a few among the councilors once more, and it was Yoda that asked the two padawans present, “True, it is?”
Sehn hesitated a bit, clearly intimidated to suddenly be under the scrutiny of the twelve councilors, but after taking a second to center himself, he nodded, “It is true masters.” he agreed, “Some know that they are destined for the Corps early on and don’t mind it, but many initiates feel they could serve the Force better as knights, and see the aging-out limit and the assignation to the Corps as a punishment.”
“And because of this, the aging limit is a source of stress and even fear for a lot of us.” Obi Wan added, “While we may well have been more centered and less emotional if we’d known more about the Corps before.” he said, “I saw the Agricorp during our mission to Melidaan, and I never realized before how impressive their work was!”
Once more, people started to talk back, and the returned Jedi was rather startled to realize just out of touch the High Council seemed to be with the everyday life of the initiates – how could they lead the Order properly, if they were so removed from its daily preoccupations?
“Another suggestion, knight Feemor?” Mace prompted, knowing that the debate would go on for days once the presentation was completed
¤.¤.¤
“Several.” the knight agreed, “Though of course, I don’t suggest implementing all I’m talking about all at once, but rather over time.”
It was clear, from his frown, that Mace knew the suggestions to come were going to be only more revolutionary and create even more hours of debate among the council.
“We could allow the most experimented masters, who’ve already proved they could raise a padawan, to take several of them instead of just one.”
Once more, the noise was rising, but Arya did notice that while some were completely against this suggestion – quite a few of the councilors, quite to the contrary, were looking rather intrigued by the idea.
“What about families?” she asked, knowing she was going to lit a fire in the room
Indeed – the first recriminations were already loudly heard
“Jedi can’t have family!”
“They used to.” she reminded them – they’d just talked about it after all, “My father was a consular Jedi. And my mother a guardian.” she reminded them, “Even after my birth, they kept up their mission beyond the borders of the Sith Empire for several years.” she pointed out
“You fail to differentiate love and attachment.” Arkous added, “And by doing this, you are teaching your youngling to ignore their feelings rather than learn to acknowledge them without letting them govern their actions.”
“That’s rich coming from a man who waited three thousand years to heal his wife!”
Arkous smirked, “Ah, but I never claimed to be a Jedi.” he reminded them
Mace sighed.
This time, finally, the rest of the councilors realized that he’d talked more about the Sith than the Jedi of old.
“I am a man of passion.” the pureblood Sith said with a wild smile, “But…” by now his golden eyes were glowing ethereally, and the usually tame aura had grown far less controlled, whispers of darkness all around him, “It doesn’t mean I can’t achieve serenity when I need it. And your Jedi of old, for all that they didn’t revel in their emotions as I did, understood that one didn’t preclude the other.”
“Passion yet Serenity.” Arya agreed
“The old code was dangerous!” a red-skinned Iktotchi contradicted immediately
“Knight Feemor just spent the past three hours proving that it wasn’t.” Arya contradicted
“Even so,” Mace interrupted, seeing that Oppo Rancisis was about to give a more heated counter-argument, “while you’ve clearly made your point that Jedi families aren’t quite as dangerous as we thought.” he ignored the disagreeing mutters, “Changing the whole Order from one day to the other wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“It would destabilize the whole Order.” Arkous agreed, “We’re not telling you to revert to all your old ways all at once.”
“Just to start relaxing some rules little by little to encourage growth and change.” Arya completed
“Precisely.” Feemor agreed, “But even if it’s not all at once…” he eyed all the councilors solemnly, conveying once more with his eyes the weight of the presentation he’d just done, “We need to change if we don’t want to disappear and become beings of legends and old History, just like the Sith.”
Obi Wan had to hide a wince at that – but right now, the High Council had enough to deal with, breaching the topic of the Sith clearly wasn’t the right time.
Presentation done, Feemor, Sehn, Arya, Arkous and Obi Wan had left the Council to its debate.
Most of the councilors were seen in the Archives in the following days, to check independently what they’d been told by Feemor.
Then, it was the members of the Council of First Knowledge and of the Council of Reassignment who were seen perusing the same data. Within a week, the Temple was a beehive of speculation, as all, from the initiate to the masters, had realized something big was going on.
Two months after their return from Melidaan – the aging-out limitation was removed, much to the relief of quite a few Initiates.
A new mandatory module had been added to the course-work of all initiates and padawans, that delved into the work of each of the Corps.
While no official announcement had been made about it – the watchmen knights and seekers were encouraged to look a bit more closely for children that could benefit from a Temple education, even if they were slightly older than preferred.
Shmi Skywalker found herself taking quite a few seekers to the Outer Rim with the RedBird – and along the way, most were more than happy to help her set up the freedom trail she and Arya were working on.
Obi Wan was honestly stunned by all the changes Feemor’s report had brought. As an added bonus, the knight, and his padawan, were now regular visitors in their quarters, just like Tholme and Quinlan, helping him reforge anew one more friendship only he remembered.
The two other padawans had quickly noticed how ahead of them he was – but in true Jedi fashion, rather than be frustrated or jealous, they instead took to asking him for help to improve themselves.
As soon they heard Obi Wan was helping his fellow padawan with some lessons and lightsaber work, Bant, then Garen, Siri and Taria wiggled their way in. Then, because he was watching from afar, Obi Wan felt compelled to invite Bruck – no matter how annoying the teenager was, he wasn’t as bad as he used to, the removal of the aging-out limit having done wonders for his temper.
Of course – Obi Wan didn’t frame most of what he taught to his friends as course-work, instead focusing on skills that could be useful in life… and in pranking.
Thus, began the great pranking war of the seventh month of 7931 CRC.
¤.¤.¤
“Very fetching color, padawan Kenobi.”
Obi Wan groaned, letting his head hit the table near to the datapad he’d been studying, “I’ve unleashed a monster on this Temple, master Windu, and I didn’t even know it!”
It had taken a few months for the Force-presence hiding technique he’d taught to Bant, Garen and Siri before leaving for Melidaan to make the round around the Temple, and while not everyone was good enough at it to hide in plain sight like experimented shadows could – becoming good enough to go unnoticed around the Temple, that was always full of Force-sensitive, was easier.
Add to this the improved way to use Force Pull and Push that delved in Telekinesis he’d learned in the desert, and rather foolishly taught not only his friends, but also Arya and Arkous when they’d voiced their interest…
Then Arya had taught Siri Tachi the nuances of the art of trapping, and the young girl had taken to it with relish. She’d learned more about it with Shmi, of all people.
Bant had learned some very basic Force alchemy with Arya – she hadn’t even realized what she was learning until she’d managed a new, more potent formula of color-changing potion that worked on Force-sensitive.
Then she’d improved the formula to make it change color according to emotions.
At first – only the initiates and the padawans had gotten caught in all the pranks – but when an ill-times color-bomb had hit master Fisto instead of his padawan, it became a free for all, the masters taking advantage of the situation to teach some survival lessons to their students.
Most initiates and padawans tended to forget – that whatever shenanigans they got up to, the knights and masters had done just the same in their time.
There were a few masters who managed to stroll unarmed in the strange, colorful battlefield that some area of the Temple had become – just like Arkous or Mace.
Others, who relished in the chaos just as much as the younglings did – and among those, Yoda and Arya, were doubtlessly the worst.
Which was why Obi Wan was currently completing his assignment for his Advanced Galactic Geo-Politic with bright blue hair that rippled with yellow and purple now and then as he focused on his work. Not the best color combination – but he was used to it, as it had already been three days since he got hit by the potion Bant had invented, and Arya and Yoda had conspired to drop on him. And of course, the two masters had somehow improved the formula his Mon Cal friend had come up with enough that her antidote didn't work on it.
Instead, Arya had given him some ancient Kashi Mer texts — telling him the hair would encourage him to learn faster.
“I don’t suppose you’re here to deliver me from this technicolor disaster?” the Obi Wan asked without much hope
“I’m afraid I know nothing about Healing.” the master of the Order contradicted, his amusement visible only in the way his eyes shone a bit brighter than usual
The Korun really had a perfect sabacc face.
“Ah well, no matter. I have some tea still warm if you'd like?”
The other was soon nursing a cup of sapir tea, Obi Wan himself pushing his assignment to the side to give his attention to the man. Arya and Arkous, the former who’d been working on a weaving project, the latter sharpening an ancient looking blade, joining them at the table.
“You’ve been dropping hints left and right since padawan Kenobi got his vision, and you woke up from the past.” the man said bluntly, “A simple remark about our declining numbers ended in a presentation pointing out we're dying out, and another about our reputation in the galaxy is gearing up to be just as mind-shattering, if what master Dooku is saying true.”
“You’ve put Dooku on that?” Obi Wan couldn’t help but blurt, his hair flashing red and yellow as he burst out laughing
“I did.” Mace agreed, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected reaction
“Oh wow. He must have loved it.” the returned Jedi mused, remembering well the rumors about the Jedi master's clashes with the council before he'd left the Order and become Sidious' apprentice
“Master Dooku has already shared his misgiving about our current position regarding the Senate.” Mace agreed, “I thought he would enjoy being pointed at a real problem.”
“The Senate is a real problem.”
Mace sighed.
“Well, I guess this is why I came here, in a way.” he said, “What’s wrong with the Senate?”
“You mean apart from self-serving senators giving missions to Jedi, better to serve their interest rather than the good of people? The Senate looking at the Jedi like their personal attack dogs rather than the peace-keeping Order we’re supposed to be? The way they use budget to force us to do their bidding rather than what the Force wills?” Obi Wan blurted, thinking back to the years he'd spent on the Council, who'd given him an inside view about where quite a few problems of the Order originated from
The master of the order leaned back in his chair tiredly.
He knew most of these things, of course, but hadn’t realized it had grown to be as big a problem as Yan was making it – except Obi Wan, Arkous and Arya all apparently agreed, and they’d never met the man.
“From what I see, things have become worse so slowly over time that the Order haven’t realized it.” Arya mused, “I mean, in my days the Order did answer to the Senate for some matter, but not as much as you are currently doing. And conversely, the politicians sought our opinion and advice far more often than they seem to nowadays.”
“Part of it is the fact you’re now entirely based on Coruscant.” Arkous added “When the Order was based on Tython, they were more removed from political matters, but also less hampered by it.” a frown, “And from what I’ve seen of the Ruusan Reformation, part of it was forced on you by the Senate because they were afraid of your Order.”
“Which is why you can’t easily break ties with the Senate.” Arya agreed, “People are quick to fear what they don’t understand, and most people can’t understand the Force.”
“But at the same time, we can’t keep being so reliant on the Senate. Precisely because of this fear and of the way they're controlling us and attempting to make us go against our very mandate.”
Mace sighed.
“I’m going to have to ask someone else to look in the Senate and what we can do about it, right?”
Obi Wan patted his arm in consolation, forgetting for a moment that this wasn’t the Mace he’d spent hours upon hours with in the High Council Chambers – thankfully, the man had already grown comfortable enough with their rather improbable team that he didn’t mind.
“You should have someone look into ways to gain more independence from the Senate.” the returned Jedi agreed, “And why it is needed, of course. Otherwise, the council will never agree to anything.” he added with some humor lightening his eyes
“You really do know how the council work, don’t you?” Mace mused, both amused and thoughtful, “Those visions of yours were a lot more detailed than they usually are, weren’t they?”
Obi Wan hesitated a second – but the question had been asked without second thoughts, and honestly, Mace had reacted to things far better than he’d expected since he’d woken up in the past. It made him wonder what made the man that much hard-headed and bitter in the future, and somehow, he could see the weight of steering the Order right as the galaxy grew darker and darker doing this to him.
So he answered honestly.
4316.165.9 CRC – birth of Arya Lunika on Benduday (5th day of the week) of the 6th week of the 1st month of the year 4316 while in Hyperspace (3661 BBY / -7 ATC)
4320.412.0 CRC – Fluffy Mooka boarded, death of Sayah and Leelai Lunika, Arya Lunika registered to the Korriban Academy as “Jen’Nwit” (Little Shadow) by Darth Arkous (3657 BBY / -3 ATC)
4322.742 CRC –Arya saves Lyn’Me, they become sisters (3655 BBY / -1 ATC)
4323.273 CRC – Arya Lunika escapes the Korriban Academy and is recruited by Cipher Eleven (3654 BBY / 0 ATC)
4325.323.0 CRC – Deaknal (Born from the Wind) Raheth (Sandwalker) adopts Arya Lunika (3652 BBY / 2 ATC)
4328.444 CRC – Return to the Empire, Deaknal promoted (3649 BBY / 5 ATC)
4330.974 CRC – Lyn’Me escapes Korriban (3647 BBY / 7 ATC)
4331.165.0 CRC – re-birth of Padfoot, Arya leaves Dromund Kaas on her first solo mission (3646 BBY / 8 ATC)
4331.721 CRC – finding of the vergeance and re-birth of Blanche on Lothal (3646 BBY / 8 ATC)
4332.211 CRC– finding the vergeance of Ossus (3645 BBY / 9 ATC)
4332.231 CRC– return on Dromund Kaas (3645 BBY / 9 ATC)
4332.315 CRC– mission on Nal Hutta starts (3645 BBY / 9 ATC)
4333.164 CRC– arrival of Ketan Seva on Nal Hutta (3644 BBY / 10 ATC)
4333.333 CRC– Arya becomes Cipher Seven (3644 BBY / 10 ATC)
4333.923 CRC– Darth Arkous becomes a member of the Dark Council, Deaknal is promoted from Keeper to Minister (3644 BBY / 10 ATC)
4334.233 CRC– Dash.a Ellan becomes a Privateer for the Republic (3643 BBY / 11 ATC)
4334.762 CRC– War starts again (3643 BBY / 11 ATC)
4334.943 CRC– re-birth of Kagetsu (3643 BBY / 11 ATC)
4334.954 CRC– death of Sel-Makor (3643 BBY / 11 ATC)
4335.625 CRC– birth of Jela’Me, son of Lyn’Me and Xenloth Nor (3642 BBY / 12 ATC)
4337.172 CRC– death of Vitiate’s Voice in the Empire (3640 BBY / 14 ATC)
4340.835 CRC– battle against Revan (3637 BBY / 17 ATC)
4340.064 CRC– destruction of Ziost (3637 BBY / 17 ATC)
4341.174 CRC– Eternal Empire offensive (3636 BBY / 18 ATC)
4341.342 CRC– Arya wakes up (3636 BBY / 18 ATC)
4341.461 CRC– visit on Tython (3636 BBY / 18 ATC)
4341.512 CRC– defeat against the Eternal Empire, death of Darth Marr, Arya in cryostasis (3636 BBY / 18 ATC)
4346.364 CRC– Arya rescued and waked up (3631 BBY / 23 ATC)
4346.415 CRC– battle of Asylum (3631 BBY / 23 ATC)
4346.061 CRC– journey to Odessen’s core (3631 BBY / 23 ATC)
4346.074 CRC– Firebrand’s assault on Zakuul’s infrastructures (3631 BBY / 23 ATC)
4347.122 CRC– Arcann’s retaliation (3630 BBY / 24 ATC)
4347.413 CRC– assault on Zakuul (3630 BBY / 24 ATC)
4348.272 CRC– battle against Tenebrae (3659 BBY / 25 ATC)
4351.xxx CRC– Arkous starts living on Tython (3656 BBY / 28 ATC)
4383.xxx CRC– death of Deaknal (3624 BBY / 60 ATC)
4408.xxx CRC– death of Xenloth and Lyn’Me (3599 BBY / 85 ATC)
4439.xxx CRC– Aayla’Me becomes Grand Master (3568 BBY / 116 ATC)
4517.xxx CRC– death of Aayla’Me (3590 BBY / 194 ATC)
4568.xxx CRC– Arkous takes Arya’s pod to Coruscant (3539 BBY / 245 ATC)
6945.354 CRC– birth of Fay (1031 BBY / 2621 ATC)
6976.xxx CRC– Ruusan Reformation, Fay gives up her lightsaber (1000 BBY / 2652 ATC)
7080.075 CRC– birth of Yoda (896 BBY / 2756 ATC)
7919.653 CRC– birth of Obi Wan Kenobi (57 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7930.234 CRC– return of Obi Wan Kenobi, awakening of Arkous (46 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7930.262 CRC– awakening of Arya (46 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7930.265 CRC– second anti-poison (46 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7930.471 CRC– Obi Wan becomes Arkous’ padawan (46 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7930.654 CRC– Quinlan saves Aayla’Secura, Arya gets Pol Secura arrested (46 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7930.923 CRC– gambling cession at the Outlander (46 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7930.962 CRC– arrival on Hetzal Prime (46 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7930.971 CRC– arrival on Melida/Daan (46 BBY / 3598 ATC)
7931.212 CRC– counter-offensive begins (45 BBY / 3599 ATC)
7931.423 CRC– return to Coruscant (45 BBY / 3599 ATC)
7931.475 CRC– Feemor’s presentation (45 BBY / 3599 ATC)
7931.642 CRC– first reformations (45 BBY / 3599 ATC)
7931.7xx CRC– pranking war (45 BBY / 3599 ATC)
Fluffy Mooka – Defender Class light corvette, lime green paint job (Sayah and Leelai Lunika’s starship)
? – Praetor Class frigate (Exchange slave cargo)
Ember – Fury Class light corvette (Darth Arkous’ starship)
? –X-70B-Phatom (Cipher 11’ starship)
Unfettered Mooka – XS Stock Class light freighter, lime line around the hull (Davin and Dash.a Ellan’s starship)
Ziost’ Revenger – Terminus Class destroyer (Darth Marr’s flagship)
SandwalkingMooka – DeepWater Class light freighter, double lime- line along the top of the hull (Dasha’s starship)
Red Bird – HT 2200 Class light freighter, black band with blue borders all around the hull (Shmi’s ship)
- Repository(enhancement): unlocks the Repository System
Kitsune Weave(clothe, leveling, LV30):+30 Physical Defense
FuurinKiba (weapon, leveling, LV30): +1 AG, +32 Cutting Damages
- Saya(enhancement): +10 Force Reservoir
KageShin (weapon, leveling, LV30): +1 WIS, +31 Shadow Damages
ShiroInu Tessen (weapon, leveling, LV30): +1 LUCK, +30 Cutting Damages
Trill-181 prototype (weapon, leveling, LV30, adaptable: blaster gun/carbine/rifle): +30/32/34 Energy Damages
Arkous’ Shoto Saber (weapon, leveling, LV30): +1 AG, +32 Force Damages
- Adegan Crystal (enhancement): +1 INT, WILL and WIS
- Daiyoukai Claws (enhancement): +2 damages
[Arkous’ Shadow Weave(clothe, leveling): + x Physical Defense)]
(bXP)New Proficiency: Guerrilla Fighter
(XP)New Ability: advanced Force Push / advanced Force Pull / Force Telekinesis
(bXP)New Perk: Friend of the Melidaan
(2bXP)New Familiar Ability: Powerful Strike(Padfoot) / Pounce (Blanche) / Flurry of Claws (Kagetsu)
(2bXP)New Familiar Perk: Protector of the Young(Padfoot/Blanche/Kagetsu)
(2XP)LV MAX Ability: Force Push / Force Pull
current XP: 15 945
current LV: 36
XP to next level: 65
ARYA LUNIKA AGE 28 LV 36
BODY: Agility (14/1:15) / Strength (11/1:12) / Endurance (11/1:12)
MIND: Intelligence (12/2:14) / Willpower (15/2:17) / Wisdom (12/5:17)
Heart: Presence (10/4:14) / Instinct (12/3:15)
UNIQUE: Luck (30) / Element (17) / Godly (28)