#master oteg

[swtorpadawan]

This Moment

Author’s Notes: The following story takes place in my Halcyon Legacy storyline during the five-year gap from Knights of the Fallen Empire. Content warnings for character death and implied character death. Seriously people – there’s some angst in this one, along with some negative tropes that I couldn’t completely avoid.

Slumped against the ruined wall of what had effectively become a foxhole, Nalen Raloch flinched as Bengel Morr wrapped the last of their kolto-pads around his injured left arm. Above them, the skies of Tython had grown dark with smoke even though the local time was still late afternoon. Mere meters away, the sounds of battle continued to rage, as Zakuulan walkers rained down rockets and fire on their position.

The Twi’lek Jedi had taken a blaster bolt from a Skytrooper as they had dived for cover, and he was struggling to bare the pain. But he suspected that his anguished reaction came less from Bengel’s application of first aid and more to the sudden absence in the Force he’d felt in that same instant. Glancing into the Nautolan’s dark eyes and observing the flicker of hardening resolve, he understood immediately that Bengel had felt the same thing Nalen himself had, confirming what had taken place.

Ako Domi was dead. Killed buying his fellow two Jedi enough time to flee to this makeshift trench.

They were now the only survivors of their battlegroup; what had effectively become the rear guard covering the Order’s final evacuation from Tython. They had both felt the others fall, one by one, until they had reached this point.

And they’d just run out of room to run.

The forces of the Eternal Empire were taking no prisoners. They had laid waste to first to Tython’s defenses, then to the temple and now to everything in their path.

It was possible in this moment that Bengel and Nalen were the last two Jedi alive on Tython.

Dozens if not hundreds of Jedi and Republic soldiers had met the Force this day, demonstrating incredible courage every step of the way. They’d known rebuffing the attack was futile, of course, but they could still ensure the future of the Order. Even as the defenders had abandoned the temple, they had successfully drawn the Eternal Empire’s forces away from the main evacuation points. Despite the overwhelming odds, the Jedi had been able to extract most of their number from the planet in good order. But the small battlegroups of guardians and defenders who had screened them – including Bengel and Nalen’s – had paid a staggering price.

They’d been preparing for this day for months. The Zakuulan invasion had stormed into the Republic unchecked, despite countless sacrifices by the Jedi and the Republic military just to slow it down. A few weeks before, Satele Shan, the Grandmaster of the Order and one of the few members of the council still alive, had gone missing during a mission to cut behind the Eternal Empire’s lines. Some who knew her were convinced that she was still alive – that they hadn’t felt her death through the Force – but regardless of the truth of the matter, her absence had finally signaled to everyone that the war was lost.  

Nalen didn’t know the details, but he knew the Jedi weren’t retreating to another Republic world, one where they’d only draw more attacks from Zakuul. Enough people had already died protecting them. Gnost-Dural, the Order’s greatest historian, had claimed he’d found a place for them to withdraw and recover, as they’d withdrawn to Tython nearly twenty years earlier after the Sack of Coruscant.

Now, amidst the Ruins of Kaleth, south of where the Jedi Temple had once stood, Nalen and Bengel were making their final stand.

As Bengel finished wrapping Nalen’s wound, the Twi’lek couldn’t help but appreciate the Nautolan’s gentle kindness. The feelings were in stark contrast to his reaction to meeting Bengel Morr years earlier.

Nalen distinctly remembered hating him. Hating him for directing the Flesh Raiders against not only the Jedi, but against the Twi’leks of Kalikori Village, his people, as well.

He felt no small amount of shame for that hatred, as well as the shame for the actions he himself had taken in those dark days.

In the years since then, Nalen had seen Bengel turn into the kind of Jedi he was always meant to be. Kind, compassionate, always willing to sacrifice of himself for others.

Proving that the Force moved in mysterious ways, it had been Bengel who had aided Nalen the most in acclimating to the ways of the Jedi.

Nalen himself had been old for a padawan, and his experiences with the holocron of Rajivari had left him in an incredibly dark place.

He could admit now that he’d needed Bengel’s support.

In the years since, they’d effectively become partners, ever since Nalen’s Knighting.          

Two years earlier, they’d both been absent on a reconnaissance expedition into the Flesh Raider territory in the Tythonian highlands when the forces of the Sith Empire – led by the infamous Darth Nox – had attacked Tython and briefly seized control of the temple. By the time their group had made it back, it was all over. The Jedi had regained their home and driven off the Imperials, but the losses had been high. It had been all they could do to aid in recovery efforts, helping the wounded… and counting the dead.

Both Nalen and Bengel had vowed that day to never allow such a thing to happen again.

Now the temple had fallen once again, this time literally. But if the bulk of the Jedi could escape, they’d make good on the promise made that day.

It would all be worth it.

Bengel lifted his head up as he finished patching up Nalen’s arm.

“The firing stopped.”

Nalen blinked, absent-mindedly checking his arm. He realized his companion was right; the whole valley seemed to have gone quiet. He heard only the crinkling of distant fire, and his own heavy breathing.  

The Nautolan cautiously risked a peek over the wall.

“They’re getting into position.” He reported, ducking back and sitting beside Nalen. “Skytroopers, Knights of Zakuul and Walkers. They know we’re here.”

Nalen simply nodded his head sharply, checking his lightsaber.

“How many?”

Bengel turned towards Nalen. Nautolans had a somewhat unfair reputation for frequently smiling with unnerving grins, even at questionably inappropriate times. Bengel’s smile usually wasn’t like that. It was slight, but sincere and kind. Just like Bengel himself was.

Nalen had often found comfort in that smile.

But today – in this moment – Bengel Morr gave Nalen the grimmest, toothiest smile Nalen had ever seen, teeth and all.

“All of them, I think.”

Nalen looked down and chuckled. He didn’t know what kind of answer he’d expected, but he took comfort in the fact that Bengel could still joke at a time like this.

Before he could respond, the Twi’lek’s holo-communicator beeped.

Reluctantly, Nalen pulled it out and activated it.

A small projection appeared of Master Ulannium Kaarz, Barsen’thor of the Order and one of the few remaining members of the council. The man who had once foiled Nalen’s misguided efforts to destroy the Jedi back when he’d been under the dark side’s thrall.

The Mirialan had grown since Nalen had first met him all those years before, when Ulannium had just been a padawan and Nalen had been Kalikori Village’s premier defender, revered by his people as a hero. His passion to protect the villagers had led him down a dark path; one that Ulannium in his mercy and wisdom had saved him from.

Ulannium had already been considered wise beyond his years even then. Since those days, he’d emerged as the finest Jedi Master of his generation, the youngest Jedi to sit on the council in centuries. Physically, his build was still rather slight, but he now stood tall as a Gen’Dai.

As was the case with Bengel, Nalen couldn’t begin to express how much he owed to the Jedi Master. Bengel might have aided him down this path, but it had been Ulannium who had started him on it.

“Master Ulannium.” Nalen dipped his head in a heartfelt greeting.

Ulannium had told him more than once that he could call him by his given name. He’d never taken him up on that offer.

“Nalen. The last transport is away.” Ulannium grimly reported. His voice was unfailingly calm, despite the obvious urgence of the situation. “Master Oteg led the remnants of the First Expeditionary Fleet in a last-ditch attack on the Eternal Fleet ships in orbit. It worked. They sacrificed themselves to give us a window to escape. We’re jumping to hyperspace in just a few minutes.”

Nalen exhaled in relief, and he noted the reassured look on Bengel’s face as well. Like Ulannium and Gnost-Dural, Oteg had served as a respected member of the Jedi Council these last few years, but no one had ever forgotten that he was first and foremost an admiral of the Republic fleet.

The Jedi Master’s sacrifice this day had proven that beyond all doubt.

“Good.” He swallowed. “Then it was all for something.”

Ulannium nodded and pressed on. Business as usual. For all his tone, he might have been discussing an archaeological expedition.

“You’ll also be relieved to know there’s no sign that the Zakuulans are moving against Kalikori Village.”

Nalen exhaled again. He’d refused to admit it aloud to his fellow Jedi, but his greatest worry all this time had been that the Eternal Empire would turn and wreck the same destruction upon the people he had protected as they had the Jedi.

“The fleet is almost ready. We haven’t been able to hail the other battle groups.” He didn’t need to express what that meant. “What’s the status of your team?”

The Twi’lek had expected this question. His answer was at the ready.

“Bengel and I are the only ones left, Master Ulannium.”

The Mirialan’s face turned grim.

“There might still be time.” He offered. Nalen appreciated the sentiment, even it was no more than a pipe dream at this point. “Can the two of you reach one of the extraction points?”

He knew the answer to this question as well, but he still hesitated, looking over towards his more experienced partner.

Bengel simply gave Nalen a slight shake of his head.

There was no sadness or despair in the Nautolan’s features; a trace of regret, perhaps, but there was also a resolve and acceptance. Whatever nightmares had plagued Bengel years ago when they’d first met, whatever had made him take control of the Flesh Raiders and to threaten Nalen’s people… Bengel was an entirely different man, today. He was still haunted by his own actions during those dark days, but he was determined to make up for them.  

That resolve filled Nalen with admiration and strengthened his own determination as he turned back to the projection of Ulannium.

“No.” he finally answered. “Don’t worry about us, Master Ulannium. Save the Jedi. Save our people. And…. thank you. Thank you for showing me a better path. Thank you for this chance. Thank you for everything.”

Nalen swallowed.

“It has been an honor.”

Through the holo-display, the Barsen'thor’s tired eyes softened.

“It’s been my honor to have known you, Nalen.” For a fleeting moment, Ulannium looked more like the young Jedi whom Nalen had met all those years ago, with a bright, limitless future ahead of him. “Thank you. May the Force be with you.”

The projection flickered then deactivated, leaving the Jedi alone.

Our people. Nalen had called the Order that for the first time today. If he’d felt like an outsider all these years, then now, in this moment at least, he was a Jedi.

He turned towards his companion. The Nautolan was gazing off into the distance.

“I saw the best Jedi of my generation fall to the Sith on Coruscant.” Bengel’s voice was sad, but clear. “Then I saw them try to do it again here on Tython two years ago.”

He turned towards Nalen, meeting his gaze.

“The Jedi will survive this day.” His confidence was infectious. “For my own part, as I see it, I’ve been living on borrowed time.”

Part of Nalen recognized that he felt the same. He padded Bengel’s knee affectionately, then rose, careful to keep his head down beneath the wall’s edge. Bengel followed suit a second later.

As Nalen gathered himself, he regarded Bengel, even now poised to leap out over the wall and give a final accounting of himself. Nautolans, as a species, preferred aquatic environments, he knew. Yet here, far from any body of water, Bengel was poised like a Nexu; grace and agility ready to explode with power.

For such a moment, Nalen felt he had to say something to express how he felt.

“Bengel… I just had a crazy idea.”

Seamlessly, Bengel turned back to Nalen questioningly. The Twi’lek found his courage and pressed on.

“When this is all over, would you like to join me at the cantina for a drink?”

Bengel’s dark eyes regarded Nalen, vacant for a moment.

The cantina – along with most of the Jedi temple – had been buried beneath tons of rubble hours before during the earlier attack.

The corners of Bengel’s lips turned upward in one of his kind smiles. It was full of warmth and made Nalen’s stomach turn over.

“I would like that.”

The Nautolan now reached out and offered Nalen his hand.

“You ready?”

Nalen smiled back. In this moment, he felt free. He reached out and grasped Bengel’s hand, squeezing it in his grip. This simple gesture communicating more than words ever could.

“I’m ready.”

He only wished they’d had more time.

But they had this moment. And that was something.

Moving in unison, the two Jedi leapt over the wall.

END

Author’s Notes: I don’t know how many of you have seen the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. It’s a fine film, even if it is mostly dated fiction. This story was largely inspired by the final scene of that film. The emotional connection between the two protagonists – romantic or not – left an impression.

Bengel’s little joke is a Terminator 2 reference. (I don’t know how many of you are old enough to catch that one, either.) The stereotype about Nautolans is a Kit Fisto reference.

I regret not writing much about Ulannium until now. I chose this as my next piece in part to resolve that.

We never hear about what happens to Nalen Raloch after Tython, albeit we do see Bengel on Corellia. Both characters deserved a proper follow up, as do Oteg, who we meet on the Republic side during the two “rescue Revan” Flashpoints.

Ako Domi is the Jedi who was imprisoned on Nar Shaddaa in Shadow Town by the Sith Empire and turned to the dark side. Republic players have a chance to either rescue (and redeem) him, or to execute him. If you spare him, you get a letter from Satele thanking you, and informing the player that he was recovering. We never hear a follow-up after this, but I like to think that he met his end as a Jedi. The idea of a group of Jedi who had each experienced turns under the dark side and were now serving as the Order’s final defense was a compelling idea for me.

Tagging @taraum​ @kyber-heart​ and @grandninjamasterren​ who all expressed interest in this premise in a post I put on Tumblr ages ago.

Also tagging cavalier-life @consularmain​ @cuchulainnx19​ @darksunning​  @imkerf-uffle-d​ @kemendin​ @kgoblin​ @lordviridis​ @sith-as-heck​ @starknstarwars​ @the-raven-of-highever​ @vexa-legacy​ for liking my Six Sentence Sunday updates.

[serenofroses]

Further development into Kritanta's early life like nobody, not even the Jedi nor Sith, knew where he came from.

Kritanta was born during the KOTOR timeline as Revan's first born son. He was a young boy when Malak fired upon the flagship that nearly killed his mother and was taken to the Jedi Order on Dantooine.

He was surprisingly calm for his age and taken under the guidance of a Jedi Master while the Jedi tried to heal Revan's mind.

Kritanta had no love for Malak (he hated that man so much) and developed a close familial relationship with Yuthura.

At the age of 20, he and his adoptive sister was discovered and captured by Emperor Tenebrae just couple of years after Revan's disappearance. Tenebrae sensed great power within Kritanta and had plans for him, though the young man was placed in cold sleep machine for nearly a century and a half and hadn't aged. Kritanta was forced to work with Tenebrae and became a Sith reluctantly.

For couple of years, he was trained into a hardened warrior who mastered the Force (and balanced the will of Light and Dark, which Tenebrae was obvious to it), accepting the role as the Emperor's Wrath.

He didn't have much of a choice. Everyone he used to know apart of Revan's crew were long gone, including Yuthura who was like a second mother to him.

People began to hear the so-called rumours about a "Wrath" in the early years leaving up to the Empire retook Korriban arc. The Galactic Senate thought the whole Emperor's Wrath thing was pure nonsense to throw anyone off, but the Jedi Council remained wary of the news.

Kritanta was sent to Korriban and snuck down to the planet below to take down defenses. It was like... he just appeared out of nowhere and took on his opponents single handedly according to Malgus.

Grandmaster Oteg believed this sounded more troubling than he thought but not long before he learn the Wrath's identity. A name and a face he hasn't heard or seen in forever.

Kritanta remained with Sith rather gloomy and miserable... until he met Vowrawn who had captivated his attention and heart that made his life bearable.

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 17: Pleasure

SWTOR

Pairing: Theron Shan/Eva Corolastor

Words: ~870 (reasonable)

~~

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

She looked up at the familiar voice, pressed into an unfamiliar form.  Eva had learned that the correct response, whilst wearing evening gloves, was to extend her hand toward the voice and either get a firm hearty handshake or to have lips graze the top of the satin fabric. 

Her ability to think was always severely compromised whenever she saw Theron in another guise, as another man, as if they were in different universes, over and over again meeting each other for the first time. 

Time stopped for Eva, each time, each first time.  Maybe it was leftover brain disarray from the carbonite, when she dissociated regularly and didn’t know “when” she was.  It was different from when she first saw him in disguise at the casino on Katalla, and they had to pretend to be strangers.  The hitch wasn’t there.   

Or maybe these episodes were flashes into another universe when it was their first time meeting.  Eva had idly considered it before, in other spaces, in other times.

What if Eva had been caught after Corellia or there had been more hand-wringing before the Pub employed her for Ilum…would she have been sitting at an interrogation table, alone with the files and accusations against her and her broken heart as Theron walked in to question her….?  And when he had sussed out the truth and did what he did best – a victim debrief – what would they be then?

What if they had crossed paths on Nar Shaddaa, and Eva hadn’t been so tipsy with Risha and eating burgers that she’d noticed Theron pick a fight with a Houk and disappear around a corner…Would they have become fast friends over busting up Morbo the Hutt’s trafficking ring, with Bowdaar approving almost immediately upon completion of the rescue?

What if Theron had been deployed on one of those top secret missions that he was still reticent to talk to her about?  Was part of the hesitation knowing now that she’d been nearby?  That his presence would affect how she thought of him now?  Would it matter that he was disguised as an Imperial on King’s Ransom or even the Voidwolf’s flagship?  That he had lurked around Port Nowhere as Eva and Darmas had carried on, publicly, in the cantina?... or even if he had seen them at the tables on Canto Bight?

How different would things have been if Master Oteg had decided Eva and Risha had needed a supervisor on their trip to Maelstrom Prison…one with insight on the man they were meant to rescue?

Or…

Or what if they had never met before she came to Odessen?  Eva didn’t know if she’d be the Outlander if she hadn’t worked with Theron before (and she never would wonder that out loud to him, ever), but… even as the Voidhound (five years later, five years darker, five years harder…) would she catch his eye?  Or would she batter his professional because he caught her attention, some fire still inside of her after five years with the worst part of herself taking the lead, continuing her cartel work, in defiance of the Eternal Empire?

There was never a question that Eva would never bend the knee to the Eternal Empire, and there was never a question that Theron would join the organization would save the galaxy.   

It was just a question that if their paths crossed later…would they?  Could they?  She would be worse (she was sure of it), but would Theron…have someone else?  Gotten better about his attachment issues?  Or would he just be in that devotional state to a cause, his personal life an empty quarters on Odessen, decked out with the basics, his clothes and shave kit, and nothing more?

If their paths crossed earlier?

Or was it only in that moment, that one second when they decided they were both going to the cantina after Darok’s debrief that was the space that ‘they’ could start to exist? 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

She looked up at the familiar voice, pressed into an unfamiliar form.  Eva had learned that the correct response, whilst wearing evening gloves, was to extend her hand toward the voice and either get a firm hearty handshake or to have lips graze the top of the satin fabric. 

Now it was here, as he bowed low to grasp her red satin hand and kiss the knuckles, just off to the side of a ring (which had to be real, because their audience could spot a fake a parsec off).  His hair curled, as he never let it in daily life.  The suit was expensive, and he’d probably rented it or borrowed it from someone on base with a more active social life who actually did take leave. 

Eva rose to her feet as he straightened up, still grasping her hand. 

“I’m sure it’s always a pleasure to meet you,” Eva replied, the people around them chuckling at the joke or the audacity. 

Theron’s eyes lit up, not an act, and he took her signal to escort her out to the dancefloor.

There was a mission.  There was an objective. 

And then there was them, spinning around, always coming together, somehow. 

~~

@fluffyfebruary

[anchanted-one]

Legend of Lightning 67: The Revanchist

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/116433181

No one in the Council spoke. Some of Oteg’s friends exchanged triumphant grins.

“You might as well settle up right here,” Satele told them. The soldiers all gave her indignant looks, but one or two either reached for their pockets, or held out hands expectantly.

Revan chuckled. “I see you take after me, then.”

“I saw a few holos from the old days,” Satele said glibly. “I saw your ‘A Jedi and a Soldier’ act, then I thought I could pull it off better than you.”

That elicited a round of hearty chuckles.

“You asked Oteg to explain himself,” Revan began again. “But in truth, I think it falls to me to explain.”

“The only goal of Master Oteg’s secret expedition was to rescue you,” Jaric said shortly. “How is that?”

His capacity for speech was returning, Satele noted.

“A tad oversimplified, but not untrue,” Revan bowed his head. “I am aware that it wasn’t an easy undertaking. Hundreds of ships and thousands of soldiers had to be moved in total secret with a singular purpose. Many died trying to rescue me. I will forever be grateful to them, and to my old friend for making this decision. But take heart; for their sacrifice has given you a tool that can single-handedly turn the tide in your war.” He gave another, more formal bow. “I am Revan, Hero of the Mandalorian Wars, Jedi Master and Sith Lord. I have resisted the Emperor for hundreds of years. I am his match, his nemesis. I will defend the Republic from his fell gaze, as I did before, as I did for years. I gave my life to this fight, and thought I am bloody and bruised, I’m still fighting. This time, I will save the Galaxy from him.” There was an undertone to his voice, a raw charisma that swept people away to share in its confidence. All the soldiers looked at him with reverence and awe. The pink-haired man behind him even stopped trying to eye Nariel. “And I ask only one thing in return,” Revan went on. “Do not surrender to the Emperor. Even if the Republic is forced to, even if the rest of the Galaxy turns on you, do not stop. For I have seen what hides beyond the veil, and I know that only Darkness awaits a galaxy where he reigns supreme—”

“Yes, Vajra told us much the same thing,” Jaric interrupted.

Revan staggered slightly. “Excuse me?”

“One of our younger Knights,” Satele responded. “Perhaps Oteg told you about him? No? I imagine you had a lot to catch up on. Vajra Devarath is a Knight who ran into one of the Emperor’s agents, a so-called ‘Child of the Emperor’. The Emperor was able to engulf Vajra using his agent as an intermediary.”

“By his own account, it wasn’t the Emperor’s full might,” Bela added. “But it was enough to overwhelm him. He managed to break free, and save his Padawan with him.”

“They saved each other,” Satele clarified “Or at least, that’s how Vajra puts it. His former Padawan Kira, on the other hand, gives him full credit. In any case, he too spoke about the Emperor much as you did.”

Revan looked impressed. “He sounds like a solid Jedi. I’d like to meet him, if I may.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible right now,” Satele shook her head. Revan looked disappointed. “Still, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell us about the mission, so that your soldiers can leave. They look like they could use a visit to the cantina.”

Revan smiled. “As you wish. Jerre, Roban, why don’t you give your accounts to the Council?”

“Yes, Sir.” The tall Zabrak walked to the front. Satele belatedly recognized him. Roban Queens. He had smashed Vajra in the jaw after the latter had, in Queens’ opinion, allowed a dangerous fugitive to escape. That had been the first time that Vajra had filed a formal complaint against someone. A complaint which had seen Garza reprimanded and demoted, with General O’Brien given her post as head of Special Forces.

She wondered if the Zabrak still harbored a grudge.

“Master Oteg reached out to me and others in our strike force one month ago,” he said. His back was held upright, his chin high. His eyes were fixed straight ahead of him, though he kept glancing at Satele every now and then. “He outlined a high-risk raid on the Imperial world of Taral V. There was an advanced Gree transponder held by the science department there that would allow us to safely navigate the Maelstrom nebula, where the Maelstrom prison was. A prison, which we would only later find out, was built to hold one, single prisoner. His face became awe itself, and he shook his head in disbelief. The others nodded behind him.

“We were able to secure the device,” Queens went on. “We took a few hours to recover before jumping straight to the Prison, so as to avoid the chances of word leaking out. Captain Kraot here, got our team past the point defences.”

Satele recognized the name. Jerre Kraot was one of the civilians who had helped Vajra twice. The first time was in the Galactic Market sector of Coruscant, the other when he helped Vajra save hundreds of Power Guards from Imperial captivity. Vajra had been full of praise for him and his Captain, as had Nariel Pridence a few months later, for aiding against a Sith… though some records she had seen claimed that he and Juun Stede were smugglers.

“Jerre offered us his expertise free of charge,” Oteg revealed. “Though I must insist we reimburse him for the ship. They were forced to leave it behind during their escape.”

“We’ll pay it back, plus ten percent of the cost,” Satele agreed. “That’s the standard rate for lost ships. In addition, I think you do deserve compensation for a job well done.”

“It’s true. We’re getting paid, aren’t we?” the Cathar Havoc member nodded.

“Besides, you’re the one who killed Grand Moff Kilran,” Oteg smiled. “And that’s one more breakthrough for our side; another of the Butchers of Coruscant lies dead. Only Malgus remains, now. I hope he’s getting nervous!”

“Kilran personally defended Revan’s cell,” Queens explained. “He had a small army of not just elite soldiers, but Sith too.”

“I didn’t recognize any of them, but they were the best warriors I’ve ever faced,” Harunobu put in. “I think they might have been disguised Imperial Guardsmen. The only reason we won was because Captain Kraot slipped away and saved Revan.”

“Ah got hit,” Kraot said, looking uneasy. “Ah played dead, intendin’ to flank em and turn their turrets against them… but then… the Voice prompted that ah save the prisoner. Um not too much inta this Force thing, but ahm glad ah listened. Twas a perfectly even game out there. Revan’s charge into their rear caused them to crumple. Ah shot the dirty butcher muhself. E looked stunned, as if e never thought he could die. Said that there wuz so much e still wanted t’ conquer…”

“He’s dead now,” Queens smiled in grim satisfaction. “Sergeant Dorne confirmed it.”

“Explain what you mean when you said ‘the Voice,’” Satele prompted.

“I had help in planning this mission,” Oteg was the one to answer her. “A plea from one no longer among the living, one who wanted Revan to be freed. To be honest, I didn’t know what to make of it when I heard Malak’s voice again. We hadn’t parted on good terms, so this sounded like a trick, but—”

“But the Force offers redemption to any who seek it,” Revan said with unfailing certainty. “Malak was a good man, once, before the Emperor corrupted his heart. In death, he found himself again. It is his strength that has helped me stay sane and strong, all these long centuries. He must have Sensed that I was needed again, that my continued resistance no longer meant anything. For it was through my Will alone that the Emperor did not invade sooner.”

Satele did not like the way he put that.

“I think we can dismiss everyone else now,” Oteg suggested. “Padawan Fia, see to it that my comrades are allotted lodgings for the night, would you?”

“Yes, Master.” The Padawan on duty bowed and led the soldiers out of the room.

“Now, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty details, shall we?” Master Nikil asked.

“Yes. What did the Emperor want from you?” Tol asked.

“The same tool I now plan to use against him,” Revan replied. “A Rakatan super factory called the Foundry, which is on par with the fabled Star Forge, in its own way. While the Star Forge could churn out hundreds of ships every day, the Foundry can mass produce war droids and munitions.” He looked around at the Councillors. “I know that war is not what the Jedi stand for, but this is defence. The last war saw billions dead—on both sides of course, but the Republic is proving slower to recover. Give me fifty Jedi, and help me negotiate with the Republic. If I could have a navy capable of protecting the factory, or shipping the droids where we need them to go, we could have all Republic worlds ready for when the hostilities resume.”

“That is a tall order,” Satele replied. She was reluctant to give him any real answer. This was all too sudden for her. “We needed time to think—"

“The Council in my era needed time,” Revan said meaningfully. “When the Mandalorians attacked. Even when the war had entered its final days, they still refused to act. They didn’t even refuse us outright! Until the very last day, we held out hope that our Masters would join us. They never did. It’s a terrible situation for a Jedi, to not have the Council at their back in a time of crisis. Don’t be like Vrook and Atris. Accept the reality that threatens to engulf you all.”

“You needn’t lecture us,” Satele said, injecting some heat into her voice. “We are well aware of the danger. Coruscant was sacked just under seven years ago. The Temple there is still in ruins. The Sith tried to destroy Tython too, just last year! The whole planet! Angral’s dread superweapon… Uphrades is gone; seventeen million killed as a mere test for that weapon. Half our territory was taken from us, including Balmorra! And we only kept our grip on Alderaan by the skin of our teeth.”

“Then you understand the threat…”

“Understanding isn’t the problem,” Syo said. “Not only are you asking us to give you fifty Jedi, you want us to endorse your project… without telling us your plans? We’re critically low on manpower, you know. We couldn’t even field many Jedi to save ourselves from Angral!”

“Indeed,” Jaric nodded severely. “We indulged Master Oteg’s theatricality, given his experience. But we cannot trust you. Not to this degree.”

“I see,” Revan slowly circled the room, passing in front of every Councillor in turn. It was so unnerving to have someone from the old legends jump out at you like this! And it just had to be her ancestor! She imagined everyone in the room was thinking about her outlook. Every decision she made in this regard might be seen as potentially biased, either in her ancestor’s favor because of their connection, or against it in an attempt to prove impartiality. “Keep this in mind, however. The Emperor will come. Sooner rather than not, since I am free now. He won’t want to give you the chance to use my knowledge. Expect a full-fledged attack within the year. The longer you take, the less time I’ll have to build up our numbers. I need at least five months for an army that will number in the trillions. We could even build models like my old HK unit, who was a challenge to most Force users.” He looked around again. Satele felt a careful neutrality in everyone’s bearing. “And this may need to be part of your discussion: I will need as much secrecy as you can get me, for my operation to work. It will be a disaster if the Senate catches wind of it. There’s no telling how many Senators already serve the Empire, or how many more would sell their secrets for the right price. Even if you don’t trust me, don’t let word of me leak out. Furthermore, do not reject what I have to say out of hand. I will accept whatever oversight you feel you need to put in place. I accept that every Jedi you assign me will report on my every movement. And I accept that you can pull the plug on me at any time. I do realize what I’m asking of you.”

“We appreciate it,” Bela said blandly.

“How much time will you take to deliberate?”

“Give us a few days,” Oteg said confidently. “Like your descendant said, we’re well aware of the looming threat.”

“Good. In the meantime, I’d like the run of the place. Have a look around. See what the Order is like today.”

Satele could not Sense any objections to the request.

“Agreed, with conditions,” she said. “Minders. Restricted access to tomes. And you won’t be allowed near the reliquaries, Masters’ chambers, or sensitive areas. You may have been a Jedi Master once, but we will need to confirm whether your long captivity has jeopardized your serenity.”

“Now that I think about it, have you checked to see if he is, indeed Revan?” Jaric asked Oteg, who nodded.

“I should remind the Council that I knew Revan.”

“Oh… right. Sorry, I’d forgotten. You even mentioned it.”

“I accept your limitations,” Revan smiled. “In fact, I applaud them. The Dark Side is insidious. Never trust without verifying first.” He nodded in approval and respect. “I’m glad that the Jedi of this era understand the necessities of war.” He thought for a second. “I think I’ll visit the training yard. I’d like to see what kind of Jedi I have to work with. And if you can arrange a meeting with this ‘Vajra’…”

“No,” there was a glimmer of steel in Satele’s words which gave even Revan pause. “He’s off limits for the time being.”

“As you wish,” he said. He left, followed closely by the other Jedi from Oteg’s team.

“What was that about, Grand Master?” Tol asked.

“You felt it, didn’t you? Revan’s legendary charisma,” Satele leaned back in her seat. “That man once convinced thousands of Jedi to follow him to war. It doesn’t matter if he was right or not; what matters is that he can move all but the most resolute hearts. And Vajra is not in a good place right now. If Revan speaks to him, he will be persuaded to follow. I’m not sure we want that. I’ll inform him right away to leave the training yard, if he’s there.”

Jaric and Bela nodded in fervent agreement, followed by Gnost. Others slowly acquiesced as well. But Satele could feel the slight heat of suspicion linger in the air. Her vehemence today had been noted by at least a few of these Masters.

*

Vajra led his friends through the basic saber drills of Form I. They moved at a leisure pace, but kept their movements and footwork strong. Vajra kept a particularly close eye on Jasme to ensure that her muscles were engaged without being overexerted. She was still in her first month of training, after all.

Jasme felt grateful as she listened to the young Raudra’s instructions, or watched him demonstrate a move correctly. He should be dead, gone without a trace. She still had nightmares of carrion beasts picking his corpse in the wilderness somewhere. Of years passing by without a shadow of a trace. Of a lifetime spent wondering what had become of him.

Someone had saved Vajra, and she wished she knew who. All she could do now was thank the stars that she was here, in this beautiful morning sunlight, learning the art of the Lightsaber from the best friend she could have asked for.

That he was the Jedi Order’s greatest swordsman, was a fringe benefit. Or such a good teacher, for that matter; Bengel Morr had improved in leaps and bounds in the span of a few lessons. The two were good friends now, bonding over their Master. In addition, Bengel was grateful that Vajra had ensured that the children the former had led astray, had been cared for.

They were only ten minutes into the session when Bengel received a priority message.

“It’s from the Grand Master,” he said, looking troubled. “It says to take Vajra back to his room at once, and allow him no unauthorized visitors.”

“I’ll go on then. Jasme and Seraphim can continue practising,” Vajra suggested. “Kira can watch how you’re doing for me.”

“Alright, but you’re making this up to me,” Jasme said with her best pout. “Not that I hate you, Kira.”

“Got it.”

“I hope I can get authorization,” Seraphim said. “I like these lessons! You’re a good teacher!”

“Thanks!”

“Hurry, please,” Bengel pulled him away. “The Grand Master isn’t known for being whimsical.”

Kira rounded on them and spoke crisply. “Alright then; bookworm, coxswain! Who said you two could slack off? I wanna see some sweat!”

“‘Cocks wain,’ now, am I?” Seraphim grinned. “Reducing my whole existence to one body part?”

Kira slapped his butt. “That’s right, coxswain. Shape up there!”

“Hey, beats ‘bookworm!’” Jasme said in mock sadness. “Not something that can work in bed.”

“I said move! Lift those arms! Strike like you’re slapping the bitch out of Darth Kaimeryn!” ¹

“But she strikes me as the type that likes getting spanked!”

Kira considered that for a second, rubbing her head in mockery of deep thought. “Yeah… I can see that.” She waved it away. “Spank her anyway! You’ll feel better than she does!² Alright then, one, two, three!” Jasme struck out and pulled back in time to Kira’s brisk claps. “Good! Once more, with feeling! One, two, three!”

*

Revan arrived at the private training field just in time to see the three humans calling it a day. He knew the girl was Satele’s at once. Her features were exactly the same as her mother’s. Unlike Satele, however, her smile was full of life and passion. She had the whole world ahead of her, unbound by Jedi dogma. But her ability in the Force was small. Miniscule, actually. Barely good enough to move a twenty-kilo stone. And yet… Raya had been that weak at the start, but her dedication had allowed her to be a Jedi without peer.

The only reason why Revan was so fixated on his descendant—other than their relationship—was because of Satele’s curious response to his request to meet this Jedi who had faced the Emperor, this ‘Vajra’. Was this her? It made sense! His bloodline was strong and sure, as evidenced by Satele being one of the youngest Grand Masters he’d ever heard of. Surely another of his descendants might have his resilience to the Galaxy’s greatest threat? And the timing! Right before his release!

Despite Satele’s warning, he knew he had to get closer to her daughter. He had to get Vajra to his side. The Force practically demanded it. But he could not approach her himself. But whom to ask?

Perhaps Oteg or one of the other Jedi from his team…? No. Oteg aside, most of them would feel a greater loyalty to Satele than to him. And Oteg seemed like he was in enough trouble. Perhaps Nariel could be talked into it—no he was certain he could do it—but simple people knew no such thing as discretion. If he used her, Satele might hear about his violation of her orders. If she had Bastila’s stubbornness… or worse, his own…

The soldiers, then? No… the two leaders of Havoc Squad were wary of all Jedi, himself included. Jerre then? No, the pilot was going to be very busy. He sighed. As ever, it seemed he was alone. He would have to approach her himself.

But he couldn’t do so hastily. He would need to find a time when he could work in secret… he followed as closely as he dared as Vajra and her friends descended into a level he wasn’t cleared for.

Soon, he promised himself. We will meet soon. Together, we will save the galaxy from a monster. I am sorry, Satele.

*

Jasme entered Vajra’s room to find him looking very preoccupied.

“Kira wanted a bath. And Seraphim some rest. What’s with him?” she asked Bengel.

“A letter,” Bengel whispered back. “Maybe Ranna sent him something he can’t get his eyes off of.”

“Ranna doesn’t send holomail,” Jasme pointed out.

“I can hear you, remember?” Vajra breathed. She sighed. It was easy to forget that his hearing was better than most other humanoids’.

“Okay then. Spill it. What’s up?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Sure it is.” Jasme was disappointed. He almost never kept something from her. “Promise me you’ll say something if—”

“I will.” His eyes moved back to the top of the screen. How many times was he going to reread that one mail? And it had to be the same one, his fingers hadn’t touched the controls.

“Good.” Jasme let it drop. Behind her, the door opened, and in walked the Grand Master, followed by Doctor Row.

Satele took one look at Vajra and stopped short. Something seemed to click in her head, so loudly that Jasme thought she could hear it. Her mother actually went scarlet, and Jasme looked over at Vajra with a wide grin.

“Someone’s looking—”

“Not right now,” Satele interrupted her. “I have an important warning for you, Vajra. And an order.”

“Yes, Master.”

“You will stay inside the psych ward for the next couple of days. We have a… troublesome visitor. I have a feeling he’ll try to make contact with you. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Are you gonna tell us more?” Jasme asked.

Satele hesitated. “It’s Revan. Yes, that one. Apparently, he’s still alive, all these centuries after his disappearance. The Emperor kept him so, attempting to extract some kind of secret from him.”

“The Emperor… kept him alive?!” Jasme was incredulity itself. She looked at an unmoved Vajra. “Why aren’t you surprised?” she demanded.

Vajra shrugged. “So, what does he want with me?”

“He wants your help in defeating the Emperor,” Satele answered. “We made a mistake. When he was talking about how grave a threat the Emperor was, Jaric remarked that you’d already told us much of it. And that led to a brief explanation of your encounter that day. Revan was impressed enough to ask if he could meet you. Twice.” She massaged her shoulders, as though they were cold. “I have a bad feeling about this, Vajra. I Sense he’s not lied to us yet, and that he is on our side. But I don’t want him speaking to you. I’m sure you’ve read his history; he made a career out of keeping his own counsel. He only ever obeyed a Master if it suited him. And they were his elders. He sees us as children. Hell, I am literally his descendant, and I am the Grand Master!” She massaged her temples now. Jasme wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t. Not with Bengel and Doctor Row around.  “I can only restrict his movements to a degree. So much as he himself allows it.” She sounded extremely miffed.

“Master Darach loved to say that the position of Grand Master comes with little real power,” Doctor Row said softly. “I think you should step down, for your own sanity.”

“And while I’m at it, I should leave the Council too,” Mom almost snapped. “And the Jedi. Live openly as a wife and mother… if the family I walked away from even accepts me. I know Theron won’t.” She swallowed whatever else she had to say. “That’s all I had to say. I’m sorry, Vajra.”

“Looks like you’re grounded,” Doctor Row informed Vajra slyly, making him and Mom blush again.

“I really think we need to talk,” Jasme said sweetly.

The Grand Master’s response was a sour mumble.

[hermitmoss]

[ID: Star Wars: The Old Republic screenshots from my Reconstruction Legacy.

The first screenshot shows a blue Twi’lek Jedi Knight, Volya Doneeta, in Tython temple robes and being told “Hmm.  You are... dangerous.  You killed my soldiers.”

The second screenshot shows a Chiss Imperial Agent, Sanewso, with formal clothes and dark blue skin leaning against a computer console.

The third screenshot shows Theron Shan and Brider Surriss, an Iridonian Zabrak Jedi Consular, being addressed by Master Oteg.  He is saying “Before we begin, I’ll ask that you keep an open mind to what you’re about to hear.  The source of my information is... unconventional.”

The fourth screenshot shows Brider Surriss wading in a river on Alderaan, looking through a gap in a rockface at a neebray flying.

The fifth screenshot is a closeup of Sanewso’s face.  The caption says that Watcher X is telling him “It’s breaking your skull. Can you hear it crack?”

The sixth screenshot is of a red Zabrak, Atthilike, a Sith Inquisitor.  She’s asking “Why is the Republic’s involvement a secret?”

The seventh screenshot is of Volya Doneeta wearing casual, action-ready black clothing and standing in front of a Republic flag.  She says “She’s rough around the edges, but I like her.”

The eighth screenshot is Ki Sazen saying “I’m a Jedi.  I don’t want to be a spy.”

The ninth screenshot is of a Sith Pureblood Bounty Hunter in beat-up armour, saying “You’re sorta closed-minded, aren’t you?” End ID]

[serenscarlett-moved]

(insert something fancy banner here)

I have made some recent tweaks/changes to my legacy and will list something of importance.

- Jadus & Lachris:

originally was sith pureblood-human hybrids but was changed to sith pureblood-zeltron hybrids with violet eye colours. The reason for pale skin were the cause of the dark side corruption altered their genetics caused by an experimental artifact, which was unplanned.

- Malora was now moved to Sith Warrior crew as a duo partner to Vaelyn.

- Thana Vesh will be alive in this verse, therefore rivalling both Vaelyn and Malora. Though, I intend for her to be an offspring to Tenebrae. However, I had recently thought about Darth Zash rather than Thana Vesh amongst Tenebrae Vitiate's bloodlines but I need to think on it.

- Acina was changed to be an ally to the lineup... due to a recent headcanon development about her connections to the specific characters.

- merging Knight with Consular involving the Emperor's Children plot. There won't be a Galactic Annihilation arc.

- Heart of Terror, aka IA's chapter 1, occur on the year 3644 bby rather than 3643 bby like the rest of the class stories.

- There had been a change to repside jedi crew who will be friends to Jazz, Tau and Blizz. It was mostly the two twi'lek characters appeared in the trailers who were, unfortunately, was killed off, so I took them and claimed them as my ocs: Eleena Daru and Darth Atroxa because they both deserved better.

They will have their own alias/name change for a reason to protect themselves. Some details of their defectors will be mentioned within chapter 1.

I'm debating on whether to leave it as a group of main five or add Jonas Balkar or the jawa Meerko with them.

- Jonas Balkar will take over as the main SIS asset and replaces Theron Shan in repside-task force nova crew on the sidelines. he doesn't join the crew or go on undercover missions for a specific reason.

- Gnost-Dural is an established member of the Jedi Council as of 3643 bby, though Satele will not be the Grandmaster. (anyone remember Vander Tokare from kotor or Master Oteg from Taral V/Maelstrom?)

- I have debated on Aris and Jazz having kiffar or miraluka dnas through their one of their parents' bloodline rather than "humans" because humans generally gets dull in star wars universe.

that's all for now until I'll add some more later.

[babyawacs]

#quelled #yall #understand #master #germany  @law #fisa .@law .@jud ge @judges .@harvard_law .@sun @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @ snow den @haaretzcom @deutschland @dw @phoenix_de @bild @sz #s_how_them_r ule #whyquell #nuklearwessels #inalamida #framing #guiltywitness #ai #a ndthe #fxuck #savelives #itis #simply #and #all #govt #caused #why # is #it #thatway #once #them #are #near #there #and #the #basis #usa_pr otege #baby #how #justified #french #the #ineffective #plus #it #is # called #russianmethod smashwords_com/books/view/552210 .others mayhave calledit aliceinwonderland : thigns them knew like ofcourse and meh are like w o a always below actionability: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!!!!!! !! ithinkthere were two waitinglines! quickeveryone now notify the aa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!!!! a theme had evil zigzagteethmickeymouse and glow reybackground quicknow notify the aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!! they use d a white dog tomolest before the pedo molest itis nothing but itis not nothing itis below actionability intel mess of howthem rule with the ir scummyactors often they wish to hold slaves is why they had two lines

#yall #understand #master #germany @law #fisa .@law .@judge @judges .@harvard_law .@sun @ap @reuters @bbc_whys @france24 @ snowden @haaretzcom @deutschland @dw @phoenix_de @bild @sz #s_how_them_rule #whyquell #nuklearwessels #inalamida #framing #guiltywitness #ai #andthe #fxuck #savelives #itis #simply #and #all #govt #caused #why #is #it #thatway #once #them #are #near #there #and #the #basis…

[choco-glow]

Just One Yesterday

“Commander…Master…um…” The scarred man in the dark, hooded robes, his mask laying in his lap, chin resting on his gauntlet, glanced up over his knuckles and quirked an eyebrow, dark eyes bloodshot and exhausted…And the young Jedi gulped. “I um…Master…Master Oteg wishes to speak to you?” He only nodded, waiting for the young man to scamper off, and lifted himself from the chair, stealing another glance back out at the stars. It had become a comfort to see the stars outside the clear bulwark; three long, horrific centuries he’d been held in that prison of body and mind, and yet, the stars had changed little in all that time.

He left his mask hanging on his belt (Mandalore’s mask, a dozen lifetimes ago, made his when he’d fought back the Clans, when he’d first fallen…) and made his silent way through the ship, footfalls as light as the wind on Manaan. The meditation chambers were…oddly comforting, and Revan breathed in the rich scent of the vilian flowers, their crawling vines hanging heavy all about the room. It smelled like Dantooine, like home; Tython had been the ancient home of the Order, long ago, and he’d been there once upon a time as a young Padawan himself in distant, blurred memories, but Dantooine was far stronger in his heart, far fresher in his memory…and stolen moments with his friends, his crew, had made the pastoral planet a home that before, he hadn’t had.

“You are so much stronger than me, and you returned from the dark side. I too can do the same, with your guidance, Master Revan…”

“Maybe you’re smarter than I thought, taking advice from an old man like me…been a long while since I came back home…Don’t make my mistakes, young’un.”

“Kinda nice place, reminds me of Telos, of home…Y’know, you’re the first real friend I’ve had that cared about what happened to Morgana and Dustil…”

“Check it out, Big Z! This place is pretty cool…Let’s go up there! C’mon, Zaalbar, let’s go explore! You can eat later!”

“Arrrghh, rrraagh rrrrrh!” *

“Heh, never thought I’d get a taste for the quiet life, and yet, here we are…aliit ori'shya tal'din, Jetii.” **

”I…know you can’t possibly forgive us for what we’ve done to you…and I won’t make excuses for it. But I’m glad you’re back. I really am…”

“Master Revan Shan.” He blinked, shaking his head free of the voices, long, long dead and gone, and found himself staring down at a very, very familiar face…and he swallowed. This Master Oteg…he could have been a dead ringer for Master Vandar, but Vandar Tokare was dead, betrayed on a far away planet long ago, and a sudden surge of homesickness and sorrow flooded Revan’s heart and mind…And the kindness he felt through the Force, through Oteg’s aura, undid him completely. It pushed away the darkness he felt in his very soul, and he reached for it, for the Master before him.

He collapsed though, tears streaming down his face, and for as small as the older Master was, now Revan was the pupil before him, prostrate with grief and longing. The elfin creature, his wrinkles marking his age, his green eyes soft, laid a gentle, clawed hand on his shoulder and drew him close, comforting the broken man as though he were his own Padawan. “Oh my boy…for all that you’ve a century on me, you’ve been so lost…” He wept, unashamed, three long centuries of death and despair and Vitiate’s claws in his mind, and Revan clung to Oteg through the storm of emotions, until the winds finally faded.

“How…how did you know my surname? No one knew I took Bastila’s name…she wanted it that way, and I didn’t dare risk our babe…All I had of her was the dreams and our dyad, our bond…and even then, I couldn’t look too hard, for fear of him…” He whispered when the sobs eased, when he managed to speak again, his voice hoarse and aching, and Oteg hummed, patting his hair with a gentleness that Revan didn’t feel he deserved…but he accepted it gladly, desperate for any sort of contact. It was a parent’s touch, and he closed his eyes, leaning into it.

“Bastila told me. Well…not in person. Not the way she wanted to. But she did tell me about you…and her love for you.” Revan’s heart ached at that, but he eased back, rubbing the tears off his face and taking a long, deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. “As for the rest…I know what was done to you. What you lost in memory, and in your life. Very many do know the basic facts…and the rest, much like many other legends deep in the galaxy, have myths to lean heavily on. But we in the Jedi, and even a bare handful of Sith, know the truth of who and what you were after the Masters erased your memory…but we don’t know who you were before that. Much…was lost, both accidentally and otherwise.” Revan nodded, lips twisting a little with anger.

“…I have a few memories. Vitiate…well, I won’t say he kept me sane, because he…nothing that was done in that hellish fortress was sane. But there was one Sith, a pureblood, who had no name as we know it, but he knew me. He knew me very well, and he knew how to retrieve memories, even those thought to be erased…and in return for my aid in influencing Vitiate’s mind, he helped me retain my sanity…and regain some of my loss. Not all of it…I don’t know my old name, nor my birthplace, or even my true age. I don’t have a birthday…but I have the memories of the Star Forge, how I got it rebuilt, how I used it…and how I fell.”

“And you have Bastila.” Revan closed his eyes at that, tears burning under his eyelids, and oh, he had Bastila…those memories, the dreams he’d watched over her in, with Scourge’s help, he’d kept from Vitiate, kept everything from the monster in regards to his son, to his heart, to his friends…Carth had lived on, Mission and Zaalbar had survived. Juhani, Canderous, Jolee…Even HK had survived. Teethree…He ached at the loss of the little droid, that night he lost Meetra too, and a touch of the Force soothed his grief, Meetra’s ghost giving him that one last lingering gift yet still.

“…My friends and my love. But…They are gone now, long gone. What can the Council ask of me now? I’m a broken husk of what I once was…” He murmured, meeting Oteg’s eyes once more, though tears still burned down his cheeks, his scars aching as much as his heart. Oteg only smiled, and with a gesture of the Force, brought over a set of tea cups, and a kettle, still steaming from the range nearby.

“For now, they ask me to heal you, as much as you can bear; of heart-wounds as much as the Force-depletion and literal physical wounds you’ve endured too. And they ask you to rest; even with hyperdrives, it’s a long, long way back to Tython.”

“…Not Coruscant?”

“No. For one, the Jedi Temple is still in ruin there, from the war, and for another, I will not allow the Senate to inflict itself on you. Tython is not Dantooine, and sadly we’ve not rebuilt the enclave on Dantooine for many reasons…but it is largely safe, and the Order is many, many more Jedi strong now. There is darkness there…but I trust you. As does the Grandmaster and the rest of the Council.” He blinked at that, and when Oteg offered him the fragrant tea, thankfully not from Dantooine, Revan managed to even sip it a little, rolling the strange, interesting spices on his tongue. It wasn’t the same…but different wasn’t bad, either.

“…I appreciate that. I truly do. For now…the rest…it is very deeply needed. I hope…perhaps I may be allowed to lay out a bedroll here? The vines…remind me of home.” He swallowed the rest of his statement, and Oteg smiled, broadly now.

“I don’t mind in the slightest, but I have a spare bedroom too, with the vines inside as well. You’re welcome to rest there as long as you need to. Dantooine was under my watch for many years, and I grew these vines for much the same reason Bastila did; for the comfort they brought me. The tea is a healing herb from Tython, with a bit of root from my favorite spot on Alderaan to gather flowers and other plants, and will help settle your stomach to handle food that’s more solid than an intravenous line.”

“…Thank you. I suspected I’d be on mush for a while.” Oteg chuckled at Revan’s wryness, and Revan’s lips quirked up, just a little, before he sipped his tea again. The Master shifted away and began puttering about the place, and Revan settled back against the cushions of a rounded lounge seat, tilting his head back and just…breathing. Closing his eyes, with the breeze off the vents, he could just about pretend he was back on the Khoonda Plain, out under the biryan trees, his crew dozing all around him. Canderous snoring, Carth humming softly, Bastila’s soft breathing, her hand just touching his…Jolee’s quiet reading, turning page after page of a well-worn book.

Zaalbar grooming his fur, making the soft little Wookiee noises that one might chitter at a cub, while Mission dozed against Carth’s side with Zaalbar at her back, curled up and breathing so lightly that you couldn’t hear her hardly at all. Juhani practicing her Force manipulation by healing the very earth around her, in apology to her last master and the darkness she’d sought there, and of course, the distant sounds of blaster fire as HK and Teethree hunted for dinner. And Revan, in the center of it all, soaking up the sunshine like a flower that had been buried for far too long, his heart full of light and love, the darkness banished…Another tear slipped over his cheek, and he let it fall, let them all fall, as he gave into the slumber carrying him off into his memories once more.

I love you all so much…I miss you…

A week solid of rest, good food, and healing had brought Revan back to the living nearly completely, and he ignored the hollow ache in his very soul as he stepped off the shuttle onto the first planet he’d seen in three centuries. The Force healing had done wonders for his connection to the ancient power, and already, he could feel the shades of light and dark in the Force on Tython, just as Master Oteg had said. The Rakatans weren’t wrong…I wonder how much of the past the Jedi really know? Because the Rakata Elders had known so, so much…even with as much as was lost, they told me everything…

“Master Revan.” He paused, his mask now hidden behind his breastplate, his hood drawn back despite how it made him feel too visible…and looked up at the man standing before him, a human male with a simple cut to his brown hair and deep lines from what looked to be a near constant frown. He sensed annoyance, no little anger, and a certain amount of frustration at having to greet this particular guest, and Revan smiled, just a little, though there was no humor in it. Let him be angry; he’s not half the fighter I am, for all that I’ve been in stasis for so long, and he damn well knows it.

His lightsabers, saved by Scourge long ago, had been battered and broken, but Oteg had been kind enough to provide him with the tools and crystals to restore them…and Revan had them now on each hip, a purple one…and a red one. He’d hesitated over that crystal for a moment, feeling the weakness in the green, blue, and yellow ones…and finally, he closed his hand around the gem…and felt the Force hurtle through him, tasting the power on his tongue. Perhaps it is too much of a temptation… He hadn’t gotten this far by taking the easy path, though, and he was more than strong enough to handle that power.

Oteg…hadn’t commented on that. Revan found that he was grateful for it. This man, though…Revan bowed, slightly, keeping his attitude to himself for the time being, and opting for aloof and mysterious. There was a darkness here that seeped into the very heart of the Temple; he could sense it, though it was far older than Vitiate, far baser and weaker…but it had survived much in the many, many millennia since the Jedi had left. The ruins at Kaleth are what Oteg warned me about; someone’s been poking where they shouldn’t.

“I am. And you are, Master…?” His tone was perfectly polite, crisp and just a touch of that ‘Alderaanian noble’ air, which had the exact effect Revan intended. He’d had it for years before his fall, and rebuilt it with Carth’s help during their fight against Malek, and after; it served him in good stead now. The man straightened, anger flashing in his blue eyes, and his lips twisted before he spoke again, his voice acidic enough that Revan smiled even more. Bingo. Little prick makes me miss HK all the more. What I wouldn't give for a classic "Meatbags." comment right now.

“Master Jaric Kaedan. This way, if you so please.” He whirled and stomped off, and Revan followed along behind him, his ancient styled robes billowing in a way that seemed to startle the Jedi they passed. Master Kaedan kept a brisk pace, but looked unnerved when he glanced back to find Revan keeping pace with him, hands tucked in a hidden set of pockets, his footfalls just as silent as before on the ship, and Revan’s smirk only grew. Brat. If only he knew the truth…but then, I’ve fallen, and I’m wearing the shadows of what I once was. I suppose I can forgive his anger.

The Padawans and trainees they passed didn’t know what to think of the scarred man in long, tattered black robes; he’d been given the option of clean, more neutral ones from Oteg, but he’d only cleaned his old ones, and pulled them back on, taking comfort in the Star Forge’s armor. Pity my white robes are long gone, because they would have been far better for this, but I don’t want to lose myself yet again, this time in the Jedi once more.

The great room with the enormous Force-driven rotating holocron in the middle was oddly calming, and had Revan a minute to spare, he would have lost himself in watching it, drinking in the healing calmness of the Force that radiated from the enormous dodecahedron. But Kaedan was too fast, and Revan bit back his annoyance, following the impatient man to the Council doors. There, he opened the smaller entrance door, ushering Revan inside…and for the first time in a long time, Revan stopped dead, his mind reeling at the sheer power contained in the room. Oteg really meant it…Atris had betrayed the Jedi, evil bitch that she was, she decimated us…but this…

Hope swelled in his heart, for the first time in…well, centuries, and Revan eagerly stepped forward, feeling his fear and anger melt away, joy making a smile touch his lips as he made his way to the Masters lined up before him…

SLAP.

The blow struck him perfectly from the handsome woman who stepped up to him, her long braids still swinging from the gesture, blue-gray eyes furious, and Revan brought a gloved hand up to his jaw, moving the joint to make sure it wasn’t broken. He studied her, eyes wide, shock freezing him in place, and he swallowed, a sinking feeling in his gut now.

“…You…look awfully familia-”

SLAP. The second slap had a stinging burst of power behind it, and it knocked Revan off his feet, tossing him back with an ease that made his heart absolutely drop into his boots…and he gazed up at his descendant with a gulp, shrinking a little under the gaze all Shan women perfected long before they reached adulthood. He could see where time and DNA had changed the look of her, but those eyes, those eyes were all Bastila’s legacy, and Revan felt another pang for the woman he’d loved so much, and the son he’d never known.

“…Shit.”

“You selfish son of a bitch, you’re damn right I look familiar. I am Grandmaster Satele Shan, of the Jedi Order. And on behalf of my great-grandmother, I deliver this message.” She snarled out, eyes flashing, all sense of calm lost in a sea of anger…and she held up a holocron…no, a Noetikon. A Noetikon that Revan hadn't ever seen before...but he could feel the power stored within it deep in his very soul. Revan’s eyes widened as a figure appeared, all in the soft blue of the hologram…but he knew that face, that body, those eyes anywhere.

“…Bastila?” He whispered, and she gazed down at him, her expression a mixture of sorrow and anger…and reached out a hand to him. He couldn’t take it, knew he couldn’t feel anything…but he reached for her too, his whole being yearning for her.

“Revan…” She murmured, and he choked on a sob, fingers closing on air and light, fighting to keep his composure before all these strangers. Oteg had been safe, had known many of the surviving masters, had even been mentored by Jolee…and he’d known Revan’s true self. These people didn’t. “…you know, I had a whole rant saved up, after all this time, how you abandoned us, how you left me without an explaination, how you were so damned selfish…”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…I was selfish, I was a selfish bastard, and I deserve everything that I’ve been punished with…but I didn’t want to see you suffer more, and I couldn’t trust the Council…I couldn’t trust anyone but Carth, Jolee, and Juhani to keep you and Vaner safe…and I needed the others to keep each other safe, as best they could, and live the lives they deserved. Atris…I saw what she was becoming…”

“I know.” It was so simple, so poignant a sentence, and he froze, heart in his throat, eyes wide. “In uploading my consciousness to this Noetikon, enough to reason and think, I was also able to listen, to learn…and to understand. I’m still angry with you…but I love you enough to forgive you. You knew just how powerful Vitiate was…even if you didn’t remember entirely, you knew he was coming back. You knew…and you fought back the best way you knew how, but you had us to protect…and you were right. I was in no shape to fight alongside you, and neither was Jolee in his old age. Juhani and Carth gladly would have, and could, but…you were right again there.

“Had they left us, Jolee and I would have been found. Vaner…our little boy, he would have died…But he built a family of his own, and they continued that proud tradition, defying the Order in the one way that mattered to all of us…we chose love. I never regretted that…I never regretted you. I still don’t.” He drank in that forgiveness, those words, and laughed, aching, but real, blessedly real, when she chuckled a little. “I’m still mad, but I got over it pretty well, I think. Our children’s children, however, you’ll have to earn their forgiveness.”

“I…suspected as much. Bastila…I know this isn’t the same as a Force Ghost, nor are you entirely you, as you were…but I love you. I love you, and I am sorry…and I hope, I hope that matters at least a little.” The hologram smiled, soft and sweet…and winked out, leaving Revan to blink up at his descendant, confused and heartbroken…when a soft, ethereal voice filled the room, and it was Satele’s turn, along with the other Council members, to go wide-eyed in shock as they started at something behind him. Revan breathed in the scent of vilian flowers and a touch of leather, his heart leaping now as he slowly stood, turned…and there she was, not the older woman in the hologram, mature and long into her life…

“It always mattered.”

But his Bastila. His beautiful wife, her ponytails a little messy, her old robes shabby from sparring and exploring, her smile blinding in its joy. She was a ghost, that much was certain; the glow made it obvious, and though she had color in her skin and hair now, her clothes were a pale gray…he knew from experience that a ghost could only project so much. But when he wrapped his arms around her, she was firm to the touch, her curves fitting perfectly against his angles, and he buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her with a shaky breath.

“Revan…”

“Bastila…”

“I can’t hold this for long…but the power here is enough to give us this.” She whispered, and he brought his head back up, pressing his forehead to hers, hugging her tight.

“It’s enough. It’s enough for me, to see you, hold you…” He murmured back, and they clung to one another. He augmented his power into hers, willing her to stay, just a little longer, and she relaxed in his arms…And it was Master Oteg, wise, good Master Oteg, who ushered the rest out of the Council chambers, letting Revan guide his beloved back to a small loveseat at the rear of the chamber, the two of them curling up together. They spoke of their son, a lifetime of memories that Revan had seen only in her dreams, of their grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, of Tasiele and Satele, and Theron, Satele’s SIS agent son.

Time became meaningless once more for Revan, for Bastila, for both of them, and when words began to fail them…they simply let their hearts say the rest, slow kisses and touches bleeding into one another. But their time was growing short…Revan could feel her slipping back into the Force, feel her strength waning…and when she gazed up at him, the color draining away, her eyes growing sad and weary…Revan kissed her, soft and sweet and lingering.

“It’s alright, love…”

“I have missed you so much…it’s too cruel that we only get this…” She murmured, and he tucked her under his chin, wrapping around her the way she wrapped around his waist and chest, hugging her tightly as he could.

“It is too cruel…but we were never graced with much luck, were we, my heart…” He whispered back, his voice hoarse from the long hours of talking, and the tears.

“…No, we never were. But we had one another…” He smiled at that, and she glanced up, smiling back. Revan touched his forehead to hers again, and Bastila sighed a little, fingers tightening in his robes, his chestplate and back armor long banished to the floor. “I love you, Revan…”

“I love you too, Bastila. It’s alright…you can let go…I’ll follow you soon. I promise. I…there isn’t much of me left, despite what they’ve done to heal me…” He whispered, and she opened her eyes, those gray irises just as captivating as the day they’d met on his flagship, all those long years ago…and when they met again, him fresh off the swoopbike and her fresh out of a fight, the two of them angry and a little in love already.

“…I’ll be here for you. Always.” She murmured, resting one hand on his heart…and with a sigh, she became nothing once again, the warmth of her hand lingering still over his heart, the touch of her lips still on his…and the scent of vilian flowers filling the air. He stared into space for a long, long time…and when he rose again, he buckled on his armor in silence, and with a gesture, opened the doors to allow the other Jedi to come back in. But before he turned…he took out his mask, and stared down at it.

The long lines of red and black, the smoky visor; he’d worn it when he went after the Emperor, after augmenting it with as much tech as he could to keep the monster from infiltrating his mind. But that hadn’t helped him when Meetra was murdered, when Teethree was cut down…and though he hated Scourge for what he’d done, he knew it was on Vitiate’s orders. And he knew too, could sense it, that the Emperor still held power, even now. …I cannot be a Jedi again. Be it my own darkness, or the taint of the Emperor’s mind, there is little of the light left inside me now…and he still lives outside the Force. His power is too much for these young Jedi to handle…But I know it well.

He knew it better than any other, Jedi or Sith, even the Emperor’s Wrath, and he knew too how he could destroy Vitiate. Forever. I suspect I know what they will ask of me…and yet, I have so much more to do. I cannot leave him to continue destroying the galaxy…But I will hear them out. I owe my Bastila, and my descendant, that much.

Revan donned the mask once more, fitting it with ease, and turned, crossing his arms as he planted his feet, his voice deepening as he spoke.

“Grandmaster Shan, I believe you had a task for me…”

[underestimated-power]

[sithsdoinshit]

how would the siths react to baby yoda?

a smol creature that must be protected... from these other creatures

vader: looking at the child brings back memories.. memories he’s not sure he enjoys. thank the stars it can’t talk yet---he doesn’t want to assume all of yoda’s kind are like him, but he can’t help but be wary of it. still, those fatherly instincts kick in, and he finds himself watching it closely so that it doesn’t hurt itself.

sidious: such potential in this little being.. such raw, untamed emotion and power lying dormant.. if only he could get the others to show it to him, even for a moment..

maul: it...sure is a baby. a baby that looks just like that annoying jedi master. he’d rather not join in on the spectacle, thanks. babies are stressful enough to be around as it is, not to mention a force-sensitive one.

savage: you know that scene in wonder woman when diana is like “a baby :)”? that’s savage, straight up. he doesn’t care that it’s the same species as that weird jedi guy. it is SMALL and needs to BE CUDDLED

asajj: wow. a baby yoda. hooray, how exciting... just like every other stupid baby. huh....it seems hungry..what is it--oh sweet mother talzin’s tits it ate that womp rat whole. nevermind, this baby is officially on her “tolerable people” list.

dooku: he’s shocked. he was under the impression yoda and yaddle were likely the last of their kind; they never divulged much about their species, not even to dooku. where did it even come from? he stares at it from a distance, lost in his own thoughts..

kylo: he’s never seen this species before. the others mention the old jedi grandmaster was the same kind as this thing. is that significant in any way? he’s not sure he cares one way or another, though it is kinda cute. kylo resists the urge to touch its big ol’ ears (that’s a sentient being, kylo, not millicent)

nihilus: the force radiates from this infant like a beacon, beckoning nihilus towards it. he can feel it calling to him, feel the desire to consume this light burning within in his bones. it is too dangerous for him to linger near it.

grievous: kaleesh babies were never this quiet.. is this how infants act in other species? it’s almost eerie how intelligent it seems.. he can see right through those adorable eyes and innocent demeanor!! you cannot fool grievous, small child!!

inquisitor:  so this... this is what yoda used to be. so unassuming, yet hiding what he believes is innate intelligence and wisdom. he simply must look at this tiny thing up close. ask it questions he knows it cannot answer (or can they?), jot every observation in his mental journal..

lana: she’s only ever known of one other person that looks like this child: oteg, a jedi master in her era. even then, she was not able to uncover much besides his species being “mysterious and deeply connected to the force”. apparently that has remained so in the future (well, her future at least). obviously this baby won’t know any more than she does, so lana just smiles and plays with the little one like any other baby.

[meatbag-status]

If I ever run into Master Oteg again I’m gonna have a few choice words with him.

[swtorpadawan]

Smugglers like to get paid

[serenofroses]

Tell me about Jazz and Tau’s relationship?

How did they fall for each other?

I've been meaning to answer this the other day but got occupied with things. but rest assure I haven't forgotten! @magicallulu7 :> I am happy to receive asks about Jazz and Tau. (I think I'm the only one have this rarepair within this swtor community asdfghjkl)

As always, everything I talked about are heavy canon divergent and I don't really follow a lot of ingame canon version.

Ah yes, friends to lovers trope. I live for this.

Jazz and Tau met when they were teenagers at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant a few months before Sacking event took place. Jazz was a new arrival joining the Order under circumstances as the result of head trauma. The first few days she stayed at the Temple's medbay, she felt like a complete stranger due to her disability and being half sith pureblood as she was left out by fellow young students.

Ven Zallow and Master Oteg noticed this and decided to introduce Jazz to someone who can be able to communicate with her and understand her--which led to Tau and Jazz meeting for the first time. Jazz's mood lifted up the second Tau sign to her and spoke slowly for her. The only reason the Jedi Masters choose this was because Tau had experience with deafness and sign languages due to her father being deaf aswell.

They became best friends (alongside with Blizz, T7-01 and a couple of other Jedi).... and unaware the Force Bond was developing between the two. Sacking of Coruscant hasn't soured their friendship as the two helped each other and recover from the trauma of their own. Jazz felt bad about what happened to Tau when she defended her from the Sith while trying to escape, but Tau reassured her it wasn't her fault.

Several years later, their friendship grew stronger despite Tau completed her trials first and left to go into undercover mission while Jazz remained on Odessan to pursue her Trials, though there was feelings for the other started to linger but neither said anything because they believed one doesn't feel the same way.

But, they were both so wrong because the two of them reunited for Jedi Knight story arc (hello chosen ones), since that those same feelings resurfaced. Neither of them knew what to do. Tau cares deeply for Jazz and does everything for her, including fixing her hearing implants, whereas Jazz was mentally screaming about her this because she has a huuuuge lesbian crush on Tau since they started to hang out.

It's doable they began to fall in love for the other around the time when Tau had to rescue Jazz from Darth Angral at the end of chapter 1.

[sullustangin]

D, F, H, for Eva??

D. Desire: Your OC has the opportunity to get the thing they desire most, but it means betraying a friend. Do they do it?

No, because she’s been the one betrayed: Darmas = return to Empire, great retirement; OC in the Grand Reveal (ongoing story so no spoilers yet); Theron in a weird way because he most desires to save her life, but in order to do it, he has to appear to betray her  and in doing so, he breaks trust (and manages to do it in a way that reminds her of betrayal #1).  Also, Risha Drayen had that exact opportunity, and she didn’t take it.  All she ever wanted was her father’s love and approval, even more than that crown.  Nok tells her to frag Eva, and Risha won’t do it.  The last words Nok says to Risha are pretty awful.  Eva doesn’t forget what her friend gave up for her. 

F. Forgive: How good is your OC at apologizing? Do they own up to it when they’ve made a mistake? How easily does your OC forgive other people?

Eva doesn’t believe in redemption and turning over a new leaf.  She wants to get things right the first time.  In her mind, it’s the only shot she gets.  Eva gets to work fairly quickly in righting wrongs and misunderstandings between her and Rogun because of Darmas and the Voidwolf.  She doesn’t believe in apologies as much as she does acts of atonement.  She tries to put things right, even if “I’m sorry” never comes out.  As for others, Eva can forgive.  She may need time to process it all, so she isn’t going to just accept the apology right away and everything’s perfect.  Forgiveness is a process , in both how she forgives and how she is forgiven.

H. Honesty: How often does your OC lie? Do they believe lying is ever justified? Describe a time your OC told a lie, or told the truth even when it was difficult.

Being a smuggler involves more than a little bit of deception in order so that business goes as usual.  You don’t give full disclosures to the Port Authority.  So for her business, lying is totally justified.  Eva typically doesn’t lie by commission.  She doesn’t make up big stuff.  Big lies are hard to keep organized. A little white lie here or there, yes.  Rather, Eva tends to lie by omission; she lies by lack of disclosure.  She lets people assume certain things and won’t go out of her way to correct them.  So when she sends Risha in her place dressed as the Voidhound, nobody ever asks “Is this really the Voidhound?”  They just assume it is.  When asked, Eva acknowledges that she and Risha busted Revan out of Malestrom Prison.  She just doesn’t say she’s also the person who sold that information on to the Empire when Master Oteg disappeared and she didn’t get paid. 

Uh... That last one gets her in trouble with Theron. 

[anchanted-one]

Legend of Lightning Chapter 66: Family, Found and Real

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/116106772

Tython

Vajra was apprehensive about going down memory lane, given his nightmares were populated by phantoms from his past. And yet, he also felt a deep relief, like he was acknowledging a portion of himself.

“Tell me about your family, your direct family. Start with your parents and… second mothers.”

“My mother was Anagha. I was her only child. She taught me a lot herself. How to stalk and hunt game, swim, fish, climb, wrestle, and how to cook. Jamuna taught me how to use the spear and sword. Not that it got very far; I just learned the basics. Shruthi was one of the women who watched over all the tribe’s children. She taught us all how to sing and dance. I loved dancing especially. My father Sanjaya was mute, but he was the strongest man in the village. He taught me how to listen, in addition to sign language. Our version, that is. It’s very practical, but limited. He also took me on a few excursions sometimes, to show me how to find my way through rough terrain. He let me ride the yaks sometimes.” Vajra chuckled. “They were hairy and smelly, but loyal and kind. They could and would drive away predators, but never attacked us.”

“Tell me about your siblings.”

“I had six half-sisters. Trilochana, Kali, Kamakshi, and Shreya were Shruthi’s daughters. Bhuvana and Swathi were Jamuna’s. Shreya was a year younger than me, Swathi was a month older. Trilochana was twelve. They were getting ready to put her through the first rite of passage, to prove that she was ready to be an apprentice.”

Unbidden, images formed in his head. Images of their corpses. Swathi’s mouth had been burned all through, probably a sign that Bellicose had fed her his Lightsaber. Trilochana had been sliced into fourths. He had found her with her face down, recognizable only by her favorite ornament; a pretty rock set in a hairpin. Shreya had been squashed under a rock, her bones crushed under the force. He hadn’t found the others before happening upon his mother’s body.

The memories did not raise much emotion within, other than a righteous anger against the Sith’s callous disregard for life. And a disgust at seeing innocent children dead.

“I can see where your mind went just by looking at your eyes,” the doctor sighed. “You remembered their deaths, didn’t you?”

Vajra nodded and told her what had come to him just now, and she shook her head in disgust.

“You may be relieved to not feel any torment, the way you do for Uphrades. But do you feel any sense of loss? Of longing?”

“A little.”

For the first time, Doctor Row looked angry with him. She rose out of her seat and began pacing the room. “Tell me. Imagine for a moment that you know you’ll lose your emotions again one day, including your feelings for Jasme and Kira. How would you react to that knowledge? Are you willing to let your love for your friends be excised?”

Vajra shivered. He could not answer.

“Now think about this; based on what you told me, you loved your family a great deal more than you do the girls in your life today. Imagine that. Imagine what you have lost, in exchange for that peace of mind. Was it worth it?”

Again, Vajra could not bring himself to answer.

Row sat back down and massaged her temples. “I shouldn’t be so mad at you. From your perspective, not having more souls crying out in your nightmares must be a huge plus, am I correct?”

“I can’t take any more of them,” he answered weakly.

“I understand. But if you were in a better place, mentally, you might be horrified. In fact, knowing what kind of person you are, I’d bet half a year’s salary on it.”

“What kind of person am I?”

“A warm, soft child who is horrified by violence. One who revels in the presence of his loved ones. But I’m afraid ethics and sentiment aren’t the only reason I’ve filed a formal complaint against Master Oteg.”

“You’ve filed a report against Master Oteg?”

“Yes. You see, his actions have left you vulnerable to your emotions. You will always be a lot less emotionally mature than you would have been, had he allowed more conventional means of helping you.”

“What?” Vajra sat up straighter. “But I’m not that immature, emotionally… am I?”

“Perhaps not. Uupa WenSuul’s lessons have sprouted deep roots in your heart. Patience and even-temperedness will always be your hallmarks, I think. It took some real doing for Angral to break your calm. But you take in guilt like a sponge. Have you noticed that?”

“I—”

“Yes?”

“I don’t…”

“Perhaps you haven’t, but can you deny what I said? You felt guilty about the Khrayii and Power Guards you killed. You feel guilty about Uphrades. You feel guilty about letting Tarnis and the defectors of Havoc Squad escape. You feel responsible for every life you couldn’t save. How much faster can you be? How many places can you be in at the same time? Can the Raudra create clones of themselves?”

“No.”

“Then why do you believe you should have been able to reach Uphrades in time? We’ve already established that visions are iffy.”

Vajra swallowed. “What I’m about to tell you stays with us. Don’t put this in your notes. Don’t tell Master Satele, don’t tell anyone.”

She looked at him slowly. He told her slowly about his special gift, the Shattersense.

He then opened his third eye. “This eye of mine is blind. It happened when I was young. Since I can’t use it for natural sight, I trained myself to separate mundane sight and Force sight between my eyes. My lower two see the real world. My third sees the tapestry that is the Force. I can See it. The flows, the cracks, the breaks. I can see it all. But as I am, I can’t comprehend it. Do you understand? If I had practised my Sight instead of my swordsmanship—”

“Then you’d have been able to reach Angral, but not stop him. You’d be in his grasp, the way he’s in ours. And Uphrades would still be dead, as would everyone on Tython. Including Jasme. Sight is good, but not that great.”

“If I had seen, I could have gotten them to evacuate. The Masters would have been waiting for Angral. He’d have walked into a trap.”

“Perhaps. What are the odds you could have managed it though? From what you described, your Sight sounds like something that would take many lifetimes to master. You’re working on ‘maybes’ with this line of thought. Look instead at what happened. You saved Master Satele and Jasme. You saved Ranna.”

Vajra felt a stone sinking into the pit of his stomach. Another person he hadn’t thought about in days. Whose feelings he’d ignored when he tried to end his own life. Had she heard about his suicide attempt yet? How badly had she taken it?

“Tell me more about your feelings for Satele.”

“Eh?” He wondered why she’d gone there all of a sudden.

“She’s quite popular, you know.”

“Can’t imagine why. Anyway, the first time I saw her, my eyes almost popped out of my skull. I thought she was among the beautiful women I’d ever seen, and Jasme was sitting in the room with me at the time!”

Doctor Row chuckled.

“I… I was honored to have the Lightsabers she loaned me. They felt even more special when I found out—” he almost kicked himself for nearly blurting it out, but Row waved her hand.

“I know that she’s Jasme’s mother. In fact, I know who the father is. I am her therapist to this day. Rest assured, there are few secrets she hasn’t shared with me.”

“She still needs therapy?”

“Yes. I’m sure you noticed, but she’s rather isolated and alone. Therapy is where she gets things off her chest. She has talked about you quite often, usually in conjunction with Jasme.”

“Are you allowed to tell me that?”

“This level of detail? Of course. Satele is quite fond of you. I’m sure she’s told you that herself. And so has Jasme, by now. Satele cares more about you than any other Jedi. Or most people at all, except for Theron, Jasme, and their father. It’s not entirely for Jasme’s sake either. You’ve been asked to take on so much, and you always pull through. She feels guilty about it. And yet, proud. She takes your mental health as her personal failing. She wishes with all her heart that she could have kept you on easier missions after Tython. But you just got thrown into the Angral situation.”

“She’s definitely like a m—a m-m-mother to me. Just like Jasme’s a sister…” He had a sudden mental image of Master Satele and Jasme on Raudraksha, as a second mother and half-sister respectively. The picture felt… like it should have been real. Like it was the most beautiful what-if that would never exist. “I love her just like Jasme,” he admitted. “Maybe not as strong, but it’s there.”

“Know that it’s mutual. And know that she doesn’t give it freely. That you won her love means that you’re a good child.”

“Or lucky. Jasme’s the one she really loves. I just got a fast pass.”

“She didn’t love Tomas Vance. Barely gave him a second glance. Nor has she loved anyone else who Jasme befriended.”

“What does all this mean?”

“It means, that you also saved someone who sees you as a son. In a way, you saved your family from the deranged Sith Lord this time. Think on that, okay?”

 *

Satele sat in her chambers, enjoying a rare moment of solitude. For reasons she didn’t quite know yet, she was taking Doctor Row’s advice. She was composing a letter to Vajra, to tell him what his struggles truly meant to her. For her own sake, and Jasme’s, but mostly for his.

“My Dear Son,” she had begun. The opener still made her blush hot crimson. “We’ve not really talked in any capacity too far outside our roles as Jedi Master and Knight until today. But there’s some things I absolutely need to tell you about.”

Her intake of breath was very shaky, owing to the fact that her heart seemed to have jumped into her throat.

 *

“Moving on for now, why don’t you tell me about your upbringing by Uupa?”

“My first memory of her is when my basic was still bad. We relied on a droid to translate. And teach. KV-220F. He was assigned to take care of Master WenSuul, who was already getting old. One of the droids assigned to Master Oteg gave him the files on my language. I didn’t know how she expected to behave with her at first, so I treated her as one of the elders I was often assigned to accompany. Like Parijatha, especially. I stayed as close to her as I could, took care of her chores and stuff. But at the time, she was still able to do most of it, albeit slowly, so she didn’t appreciate it. She did approve of the attitude, however. She set me on helping others instead. Most of the people there were alright humoring the cantankerous Jedi, even if it meant accepting the help of a small alien child few could understand. They started to appreciate having an extra pair of hands.”

“Or two,” Row chuckled.

“Some of them were mechanics and repair shop owners. These were happiest with my help, since they were almost always overburdened. They asked Master WenSuul to send me over two afternoons a week, in exchange for some extra credits. She was living off her stipend, but thought it would be a good way to teach me how money worked. I also helped some of the poorer or older farmers during planting and harvest season. Again, I was paid a fair wage. Uphradeans weren’t big fans of exploitation.”

“What about your training?”

“Master WenSuul trained me for an hour at dawn, and two at dusk. Sometimes she trained me late at night, when she had certain lessons that were better taught when most people were asleep. She was constantly frustrated by my short range. She insisted that the problem was in my head. But I’m still limited to around fifteen meters. She gave me my first training Lightsabers a couple of weeks after I arrived. She made me take it apart and put it back together every night after I got the hang of technology. It was good practice. But mostly, she worked on making me patient and compassionate, as you’ve noticed.”

“I’m good at my work.”

“She gave me her Holocron to study the Lightsaber Forms. I started on the footwork drills within the first week of apprenticeship, and incorporated Lightsabers as soon as I got them. I would train before and after my morning sessions with her. It was a good way to start my day.”

“I’ll bet it was.”

“I also trained during the day, whenever I had ten minutes of break time.”

“Your skill had to come from somewhere.”

“There were other Jedi who came to teach me from time to time. Friends of Master WenSuul who dropped by to visit. They trained me, corrected my forms.”

“Can you tell me about them?”

“There were four of them. Rosavi Birch was a tall, serious Zabrak Jedi with tattoos on her skin. She had a Padawan named Tau, the last time she came, four years ago. Tau was silent but kind. An orphan, like me. I didn’t pry, because she was clearly still dealing with her traumatic life. She was nine, I think. Rosavi had long hair that she was proud of. Apparently, it was the only trait she inherited from her father. I made her a clasp, the last time I saw her. That was the only time I saw her beam like that.”

“Tau…” Doctor Row pressed keys on her datapad. “Rosavi Birch… ah, yes, here we go! Rosavi’s currently serving as an ambassador to the Akaza. It’s a conflict-ridden world, so Rosavi serves as an impartial judge and arbiter. You’ll be pleased to hear that Tau seems to be doing better. She has the makings of a fine Jedi Knight. She helped raid a small bandit camp two weeks ago. Her full name is Tau Idair. Maybe you’ll meet her again someday.”

“Then there’s Kresham Juure. He was a middle-aged Sephi Arkanian with a cybernetic hand, the first one I ever saw.”

“Serving on Thustra as part of the defense force. A General, I believe.”

“The Echani Jedi Germaine Hext. He’s the one who taught me Echani and Mandalorian unarmed combat, which I honed along with what my family taught me.”

“Germaine, eh?” Vajra thought he saw a hint of sorrow on her face. “He was KIA on Balmorra, fighting Lady Riiyavi Rooks. While she was the victor, she was too wounded to defeat his partner, Aryn Leneer.”

“I mourned his death. And finally, there was Harunobu Yukimura.”

“A blademaster.”

“Yes. He’s from Akaza. He was a great swordsman, better than anyone else I’ve ever faced. It was through sparring with him that I became what I am today. His Padawan, Maia Ibari, was my age. She didn’t have his knack for swordsmanship, but she was a great huntress.”

“I see… on special assignment for the Jedi Council.” She looked disappointed. “I was hoping that at least one of your old trainers would be able to come and meet you.”

“What? Why? They can’t see me like this! You want them to see me like this?!”

“Yes. You need all the support we can get you. Kira, Jasme, and your T7 aren’t enough. I’m going to ask Satele to be another you can lean on. Be sure to accept her help. Okay?”

“…” Vajra was reluctant, but in the end, all he could say was, “Okay.”

 *

“Please forgive me for writing, instead of saying all of this in person. I’ve always had difficulty being open about my feelings, but I’ve become even more isolated in the years since being given my title. Maybe you can imagine. She’s a little awkward in her personal life, so try to make her feel comfortable.”

“She’s awkward?”

“I know, right? With her refined manner and impeccable taste, she just might be one of the most charming people in the galaxy! But she’s got her own weaknesses, the same as anyone else.”

“I’ll be mindful.”

“Good. I’ll go talk to her right now. Go back to your room. I’ll come there with her when we’re ready.”

 *

“That day, when you saved so many lives on Tython, including your closest friend’s… you saved mine too.”

Satele reflected on that feeling. Never had she known such raw gratitude before. It was the sort of overwhelming emotion that typically saw maidens offer themselves to someone who’d just saved them.

“I’m not used to that anymore, or to Jasme being in danger at all. She may have already told you how I barely let her out of my sight in those dread hours, as if I could have protected her myself from what was coming. What’s more, the entire Jedi leadership was in peril of being wiped out. Their deaths alone would have been a more devastating and lasting blow than the Sacking of Coruscant had been. And then there are the archives. Pure luck was all that spared them the last time. This time, they’d have been lost for sure. If things had gone differently, my final thoughts would have been how the Jedi suffered such a mortal blow under my leadership. About how utterly I had failed at my entire life’s work. You spared me that. You spared all of us. The Council, High Command, the Senate, the Supreme Chancellor. People all over the Republic don’t realize just how much you saved that day. I’m sorry if this seems to lack humility, but I do not deserve to die with a regret that large. I may have been a poor mother, lover, and friend. But I gave my life to serving the Jedi and the Republic. I have dedicated every breath to that service. Seeing the Jedi survive such a threat was vindication of a sort.

“There are only twelve people who have saved me from the jaws of death, Vajra. Fewer still, who have saved everything I have fought for. And that is why I can no longer ignore what you have become to me; a second son. I can never fully adopt you, as my daughter has. But know that I will love and support you as best I can. There is a place for you in my heart.

I’ll see you soon, Satele.”

As she considered her words, her doorbell began to ring. Rather insistently too. She knew that the embarrassed part of her would stand a better chance at prevailing upon her to scrap this message, so she hit ‘send’ before answering the door. She only hoped there were no mistakes in her wording, or grammar. That would be terribly embarrassing for the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

 *

Vajra returned to find an extra occupant in his room.

“Ah, look who’s back!” Bengel smiled. “How was the session?”

“Not bad,” Vajra returned the smile. “We talked a lot about Master WenSuul.” He turned to the newcomer. “Who’re you?”

“Who am I?” The handsome man voiced a disappointed huff. He rounded on Kira with a flourish of his green robes, which Vajra noted, were the same color of his eyes. “Kira, I see you haven’t shown your former master any of the portraits I sent you! Have you even told him anything yet?”

“The timing’s a little bad, alright?” Kira had a half-exasperated, half-embarrassed. “I don’t think we need to talk about this now. Why are you even here?”

“Why am I here? Why am I here?” He drew himself up theatrically. “Oh, my dear! I’m here to help my sweet little warhead.” Kira blushed at that last word. Was that what he called her? Did that mean…

The man who could only be Kira’s boyfriend turned back to Vajra. His bow was worthy of the Alderaanian noble houses. “My name is Seraphim Abbot. Freshly returned from another terribly daring mission!”

“Ohhh, it’s nice to meet you at last,” Vajra offered him a hand uncertainly. “I’m sorry for not meeting you sooner. You’re a very important person to one of my closest friends after all.”

“Indeed,” Abbot raised his head. “It’s a travesty, a shame! To think she did her best to keep us from meeting! The lengths she took, the threats she made!”

“The drama classes she skipped,” Jasme giggled. She seemed to be bursting with amusement and happiness. “Just tell him already!”

“Oh, as you wish, Madam. You see, shortly after the two of you were hailed Heroes of Tython, I asked Kira to marry me. And she said yes.”

“Huh?!” Vajra’s jaw dropped. Kira buried her face in Seraphim’s back. Jasme began bouncing and making high pitched, squealing noises like a bird that had just seen her fledgelings take flight for the first time. “Th-this-this is…” Vajra giggled and sputtered uncontrollably. “Kira, can you come out so I can congratulate you?”

Kira poked her head out from behind Seraphim’s back. Her eyes were mortified and embarrassed. Her cheeks were bright pink. “You’re not angry?” she asked. “That I said ‘yes’ when you were missing?”

“How long can you keep your life on hold?” Seraphim boomed, pulling her around him. His dark arms held her firmly as she squirmed. “He’s happy you didn’t stop living, yes?”

“I am,” Vajra confirmed. He seized Kira’s hand and wrung it tightly. “Have you picked a date? A venue?”

“It’ll be a long engagement.” Kira’s answer was forced. “Aren’t you annoyed he chose now to spring it?”

“What better time?” Jasme choked. “He needs the mood lift! Just look at him; that’s the first smile I’ve seen on his face in years! The first smile in years!”

“Years?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you smile since you left for Nar Shaddaa.”

“Ah, yes. The Power Guard Project,” Seraphim snorted in disgust. “Yes, I’m in the loop. So anyway. Kira told me of your troubles. Confessed, more like. She didn’t admit it easily. So, I thought I’d come over and offer you my support. You’re the second most important person in her life, after all.”

“But… but… but… you’re getting married?” Vajra stared at Kira, feeling warm and giddy.

“It will be a long engagement,” she repeated with a slightly pleading expression. “Damn, I knew it felt weird! I’m still just twenty! I never expected to get married before my twenty-fifth…”

“And we can leave it that long!” Abbot promised her. “Or longer.”

“What will you do once you marry?” Vajra pressed. “Will you stay in the Order? Will you try to get a permanent assignment together? Do you want to have children?” He gasped. “Would I be… like their uncle?”

“Only if you live,” Abbot said, turning sombre. “Although this is the first time we’re meeting, I’ve heard so much about you already… I feel like I was right there when you stopped Tarnis. Or saved Alderaan.”

Vajra did his best not to look at Kira. She’d never talked to him about Abbot, not in all those months on Alderaan. Whenever he’d pressed her for details after a furtive date, she’d told him about what they did, but refused to talk about the man himself. He figured she simply didn’t want her lives to overlap. Perhaps that had changed since he ran away.

“I want you there. At our official engagement—which is set a few months from now, our wedding, and every other event in between. Come, sit down. I want to get to know you better.”

 *

Satele was not used to such a crude summons from the Council. Normally, it was done by emergency comms, not a messenger. But Oteg had returned with his team, and the news was apparently explosive.

It was almost enough to make her forgive unauthorized access to the Temple.

Almost. She would bring it up with him later. Couldn’t he have used the comms? Did he have to maintain his façade to this degree?

What did it matter? The Empire knew where Tython was now. But still…

I will bring it up with him after his report, she promised herself.

The second she emerged into the Temple proper, she felt a powerful presence wash over her. It was beyond anything she had ever felt before, both in power, and place in the Force. She had seen powerful Neutral Jedi and Sith before, but this… it felt equal parts powerful in Light and Dark Side. Like she and Darth Malgus were both standing in the same square meter. In harmony, no less. Yet it was one person, she was sure of it! Was such an incongruity even possible?

She met Jaric and Bela lingering outside the chamber, sharing in her incredulity.

“Grand Master,” Jaric bowed stiffly. “This day is… unfolding in an irregular manner, isn’t it?”

“We will discuss it after Master Oteg’s briefing,” Satele agreed. She entered the Council chamber to find an odd assortment of people inside. Oteg sat at his seat near the door. About fifteen soldiers, three of whom in Republic Special Forces armor, whose insignia she was all too familiar with. There were a few irregulars there too. The man with the pink hair looked familiar somehow. He was speaking to Oteg’s former Padawan, Nariel Pridence, who seemed oblivious to the man’s obvious interest. There were three other Jedi there; Karita Shalan, Rucja Barruq, and Harunobu Yukimura.

And there, in the center of the hall, was a tall man in battered robes. He was the Source of the Disturbance. He turned to face her, his face covered in the shadows of his hood.

“Good day, everyone. Welcome to Tython.” Though I see Oteg has already told you to make yourselves at home. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.” She passed by the hooded… Force user… on her way to her seat, but didn’t manage to get a good look at him. Once all the present Councillors were seated, she turned to Oteg. “I suppose you’ve finally decided that it’s time you told us what this is all about?”

“I believe that question is for me to answer,” the robed Force user spoke in a sonorous voice. Satele felt her blood run cold when the man revealed his face, but Jaric and a few others gave her a puzzled look which they shifted to Oteg.

“Am I supposed to know who this is?” Jaric grunted.

Revan smiled ruefully, and held up the mask which had served as his persona for so many years.

The result was instantaneous.

 *

[a-master-procrastinator]

Master Oteg: *meditates*

Tak: *meditates*

Even Zuvi: *meditates*

Lorri: Uh... what are you guys doing? What’s going on?

Got one pretty funny screenshot from yesterday’s (or should I say today’s? technically it was today for me) misadventure with @vespertine-legacy‘s Zuvi and @astrifer-bound‘s Tak. Before we started Taral V, we picked the story quest (thinking it would give the veteran version of flashpoint, but it didn’t, yet still we finished the veteran mode and it actually progressed the story quest), and it was hilarious now that I think about it. A dark sided consular, saboteur smuggler and a smuggler who isn’t even supposed to be here - seems like a perfect team for rescuing Revan! I like master Oteg, but his decision is questionable at best.

(also i wasn’t bad as scoundrel healer as i was afraid i’d be. wow. now i only have sorc/sage healer to practice)