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In normal circumstances, the return of a Jedi Master's personal freighter would often draw attention.
The return of a Jedi Master's freighter which had been presumed lost three years ago, with which the last contact had occurred five years ago, was sure to draw slightly more attention.
When this freighter was painted blue and white with a bizarre and alien pattern, that was sure to draw even more attention.
But when this freighter refused to communicate with space, ground, and air traffic controllers, when republic fighters had buzzed the cockpit and fired warning shots across its bow, when it continued on what appeared to be a preprogrammed course for the Masters' landing pads at the Jedi temple, and when masters did not detect their own, lost friend aboard, but instead sensed a swirling wildness, this would draw significant attention.
As the craft settled in for a landing, one of its skids did not deploy. Sensing disaster, one of the masters stabilized the landing ship, ripped the gear out of its socket and into place, and gently set the obviously damaged craft gently upon the landing pad. And there they waited, curious, and worried.
The hatch whined as it attempted to open, but before one of the masters could act, a flash of white wildness within the vessel saw the hatch forced downward by a single, massive leg.
The man who descended the ramp wore strange clothing. His chest was bare. His flowing red hair was braided through with bits of wood. He wore trousers in an odd, crisscrossed pattern, and thick boots of an unusual but practical style rose to his mid calves. A bandoleer of strange leather around which swirled an essence of sorrow held a modified cortosis-weave vibroblade, and a modified holster on the man's back awkwardly and impractically held a battered blaster rifle which was almost depleted from disuse.
He was huge. He stood just over two meters tall, and he weighed more than 120 kilos. Though he did not know his age, he looked to be in his twenties. His dark Hazel eyes looked solemnly out at the knights and masters arrayed before him. He descended the seized staircase slowly, and with great solemnity. A huge, wolf-like creature followed, and it seemed to sense the solemness it did not quite understand. Following behind was a strangely silent astromech droid which had been the companion of Master Tara Mainadd.
In his hands, he held folded, blood stained robes, on top of which lay an undamaged but somehow dead lightsaber. Both the saber and the ship gave off hints of the wild, wanton, joyful lightness that emanated from the man despite his solemnity. He spoke, and though he had significant training in the force, there was much for him to learn, for his mind was completely open and unguarded.
“Saorsa luynn.” He said, his booming voice somehow solemn despite its volume. The lyrical language called out, and its sound was echoed in his basic. “Let loose the light, an' may it be ever wi' ye, noble lightbearers of Coor-assynt. I am Ard Rithe, Uilleam Og. Dyrhyll and a' its people aince ca'd me High King. I were a leader o' war, and a leader o' peace must rule in me stead, an' so she does. I ha'e traversed o'er the great blanket o' stars across distances I scarcely understand, tae bring yin th' robes, and sword o' light, o' the one who taught me peace, an' my people the great law: Nae Emotion, an yet peace. Nae Ignorance, an yet knowledge. Nae Passion, an yet serenity. Nae Chaos, an yet harmony. Nae Death, ken ye light.” And as he spoke these words, the wildness in him intensified, but focused into a clarity that was like a rushing mountain stream.
“A great war taak many lives amang my people.” He continued. “An' it was ain woman o' great wisdom and strength wha taught us new ways tae use oour light-craft. Wi' her guidan and wisdame, I and my tribe united wi' aithers against the darkness.
“In oour final battle her sword o' light did falter, an' she was struck by the dark raider laird, a man ca'd Gynnyr. But in her death, a great light flew out o' her, and filled the minds of a' in the battle. Gynnyr was humbled, and diminished, as did many o' his followers, an' we wan a greater victory that day because sae many o' oour enemies cam back tae the light. She sold her life for the redemption of our enemies. Gynnyr lives on still, tho' as a seirvant o' the light.
“We repaired Ta'arra's vessel, an' her droid did guide me here that I might return wha' she left, and too, that I might learn tae waulk the road she did.”
The return of a Jedi Master's freighter which had been presumed lost three years ago, with which the last contact had occurred five years ago, was sure to draw slightly more attention.
When this freighter was painted blue and white with a bizarre and alien pattern, that was sure to draw even more attention.
But when this freighter refused to communicate with space, ground, and air traffic controllers, when republic fighters had buzzed the cockpit and fired warning shots across its bow, when it continued on what appeared to be a preprogrammed course for the Masters' landing pads at the Jedi temple, and when masters did not detect their own, lost friend aboard, but instead sensed a swirling wildness, this would draw significant attention.
As the craft settled in for a landing, one of its skids did not deploy. Sensing disaster, one of the masters stabilized the landing ship, ripped the gear out of its socket and into place, and gently set the obviously damaged craft gently upon the landing pad. And there they waited, curious, and worried.
The hatch whined as it attempted to open, but before one of the masters could act, a flash of white wildness within the vessel saw the hatch forced downward by a single, massive leg.
The man who descended the ramp wore strange clothing. His chest was bare. His flowing red hair was braided through with bits of wood. He wore trousers in an odd, crisscrossed pattern, and thick boots of an unusual but practical style rose to his mid calves. A bandoleer of strange leather around which swirled an essence of sorrow held a modified cortosis-weave vibroblade, and a modified holster on the man's back awkwardly and impractically held a battered blaster rifle which was almost depleted from disuse.
He was huge. He stood just over two meters tall, and he weighed more than 120 kilos. Though he did not know his age, he looked to be in his twenties. His dark Hazel eyes looked solemnly out at the knights and masters arrayed before him. He descended the seized staircase slowly, and with great solemnity. A huge, wolf-like creature followed, and it seemed to sense the solemness it did not quite understand. Following behind was a strangely silent astromech droid which had been the companion of Master Tara Mainadd.
In his hands, he held folded, blood stained robes, on top of which lay an undamaged but somehow dead lightsaber. Both the saber and the ship gave off hints of the wild, wanton, joyful lightness that emanated from the man despite his solemnity. He spoke, and though he had significant training in the force, there was much for him to learn, for his mind was completely open and unguarded.
“Saorsa luynn.” He said, his booming voice somehow solemn despite its volume. The lyrical language called out, and its sound was echoed in his basic. “Let loose the light, an' may it be ever wi' ye, noble lightbearers of Coor-assynt. I am Ard Rithe, Uilleam Og. Dyrhyll and a' its people aince ca'd me High King. I were a leader o' war, and a leader o' peace must rule in me stead, an' so she does. I ha'e traversed o'er the great blanket o' stars across distances I scarcely understand, tae bring yin th' robes, and sword o' light, o' the one who taught me peace, an' my people the great law: Nae Emotion, an yet peace. Nae Ignorance, an yet knowledge. Nae Passion, an yet serenity. Nae Chaos, an yet harmony. Nae Death, ken ye light.” And as he spoke these words, the wildness in him intensified, but focused into a clarity that was like a rushing mountain stream.
“A great war taak many lives amang my people.” He continued. “An' it was ain woman o' great wisdom and strength wha taught us new ways tae use oour light-craft. Wi' her guidan and wisdame, I and my tribe united wi' aithers against the darkness.
“In oour final battle her sword o' light did falter, an' she was struck by the dark raider laird, a man ca'd Gynnyr. But in her death, a great light flew out o' her, and filled the minds of a' in the battle. Gynnyr was humbled, and diminished, as did many o' his followers, an' we wan a greater victory that day because sae many o' oour enemies cam back tae the light. She sold her life for the redemption of our enemies. Gynnyr lives on still, tho' as a seirvant o' the light.
“We repaired Ta'arra's vessel, an' her droid did guide me here that I might return wha' she left, and too, that I might learn tae waulk the road she did.”