Open A Confluence of both the Strange and Familiar

Vahn Berand

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Jedi Order
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Jedi Master

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The Steel Stag
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The galaxy is a chaotic place. A whorl of emotion and memory, action and reaction, all mixed up and competing for a single gasp of relevance and always unable to breathe. However, there are some places where the rush of life slows to a crawl, where even the busiest mind can find some measure of relief.

Yavin IV is such a place, and in the jungles outside the Jedi Temple a grey robed figure sits in a narrow clearing among the undergrowth, having traded the hum of a hyperdrive for birdsong, and the adventure of setting foot on new planets for the simple crunch of familiar foliage. Here, he tries to slow his mind enough to grant him the self-evident wisdom of simple contemplation. Here, he fails.

“It happened again.”

He saw flashes, mere impressions of fragments of memories. A pair of small, empty beds, their owners never to be seen again.

“You weren’t there.”

The scorched scent of ozone on a nearly abandoned outer rim world.

“It was easier not to be there, wasn’t it?”

A friend’s grief, shouldered entirely alone.

“It was your choice.”

A temple, burning, defiled.

Vahn Berand, Jedi Knight cracked one eye open as droidspeak chirped beside him, breaking him from his meditative repose. A squat BG unit, blazened in green and black rolled around on the stone floor before him in a small, anxious orbit.

“No, Ralta. I don’t need you to fetch a medical droid.”

Ralta replied with a short series of inquisitive beeps.

“I know what my face must have looked like. I’m fine, really, just some bad memories.”

Vahn rose to his feet, leathered boots creaking as he turned back towards the temple. Ralta quickly circled around in front of him to block his path. She started chirping accusingly.

“No, this isn’t like when I ate that moongl- don’t you have a stabilizer to prod or something!?” Vahn spat.

He stormed past the little droid, cursing in several different languages. A soft, dejected digital bleat in his wake stopped him cold. Vahn sighed, and slowly turned to face her.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I know you’re just doing your best. Come on, we still have a lot to learn now that we’re back, it seems,” Vahn said, leaning one arm against a nearby tree. “There’s just a lot going on.”

Ralta chirped at him in concern, and Vahn let his response die in awkward silence before turning back towards the temple. It was a short hike back, and he followed a path he was intimately familiar with. He remembered running this same path when he was a young learner; hardly even a padawan training under Master Aeva Vetan. Every tree, every turn around jutting rocks, even some of the vines were the same. There were many times he wished he could return to those days, when Arias would brag about how far ahead he was in his training, but yet still unable to hide the look of anxiety as Vahn caught up. Things were simpler then, when he could count on Master Vetan solving every trouble with a lesson and a mug of some exotic tea. He ran his hand over the still-warm canister sloshing at his hip. It was full of his own attempts to replicate her skill. He was almost there. Almost. Almost and never.

His thoughts dwelled on those times as he started running, and somehow by the time he made it before the yawning hanger of the Jedi Temple he had actually collected his thoughts, somehow calmed himself in some fractional way. At least enough to slow his pace to a light jog and not humiliate himself by running full tilt back into the temple.

The hanger was busy with the few Jedi starcraft there were being serviced, while others ran about their own administrative or practical tasks to keep the Order afloat in a thousand separate ways. A microcosm of the galaxy at large; many hands working in their own ways towards the proper function of the whole.

He could see his own X-wing as he approached, an old grey and blue T-70, dinged and weathered in all the right places. Vahn felt it gave the ship character; made it feel more like an individual than a factory piece. The service crew surrounding it seemed less than enamored; bickering with one another, barking and cussing about how to even start.

“Life is meaningless without complications, friends. Just think of the story you’ll have to tell when you’re done with her!” Vahn said, not even slowing down as he strode past with a grin on his face.

Vahn paused as he opened a door that lead back into the temple proper, his thoughts betraying him, running back to his earlier meditations despite himself.

No matter how uncomfortable it was, every accusation was true, wasn’t it?​
 

Miris Ve Monterre

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Jedi Order
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Jedi Knight

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Odd the Lucky
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"The present day's session hast been did conclude everyone" Miris announced to the small class of padawans. The lesson was about the history of the force, regarding different religious groups and conflicts. It was something Miris was fond of, but clearly many of the padawans weren't. Rather wanting to learn how to control fire, grow plants, or shoot lightning from their fingertips.

Miris left the chamber, behind her padawans, and would walk through the temple. Meditating and training in the temples gave her a cold feeling, she would rather be out in the wilderness. With the sun's rays keeping her warm and the humid air filling her lungs. She also wanted to pick some more fruits off of Koyo trees.

As she went down the hallway towards the exit, a fellow knight entered. He looked a little tired, as if he had been training. With his eyes wandering slightly, seemingly unfocused on what was around him. Miris recognized the Knight, and continued walking towards the exit, nearing him at the same time. "Art thee tis fine, Knight Berand? Thee appeareth to beest marginally distraught." Miris would stop 4-5 feet away from the knight, with her hands clasped together per usual.


@The Steel Stag
 
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Vahn Berand

Character
Jedi Order
Rank
Jedi Master

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The Steel Stag
Joined
Jan 31, 2021
Messages
129
Reaction score
84
Vahn stood in thoughtful silence. Miris wasn’t the first woman he had met who had shielded her eyes. For a few breaths it was if he was in a trance, memories overtaking him. It was as if he were transported to a moment on Taris. A moment long since gone by.

“Are you looking for these?” Words from years gone by. They echoed in his mind, and he had to shut his eyes, and focus on the present to drive out those intrusive thoughts. Focus, Vahn. Focus. Remember what Aeva told you so long ago.

“Miris. I…. wasn’t expecting you. Caught me off guard,” he explained, his voice still strained. “It’s nothing, really. Really…” he sighed, and scrubbed a hand at the back of his neck.

“It doesn’t take The Force to see through me, does it?” He turned, and leaned against the door frame with his arms across his chest. He looked up, his brow tense in thought.

“I was trained here, you know. For a while, at least. I thought it was the coolest thing. My own space sorceress plucked me out of the gutter I’d been born in, and brought me here, and then, well, the whole world opened up,” Vahn said, gesturing widely.

“There are a lot of memories here. Mostly good, some bad,” He said, waving his hand first one way, then the next. He was silent for a time, before looking askance.

“It’s like she’s still here,” his voice was soft.

@Odd the Lucky
 

Miris Ve Monterre

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Jedi Order
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Jedi Knight

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Odd the Lucky
Joined
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Miris could feel the Knight struggling with something, his breathes sounding deeper and slightly coarse. It wasn't uncommon for Jedi to have troubling thoughts since the aftermath of Ajan Kloss. Miris would receive requests asking for help occasionally. She gave a warm smile as a response to the Jedi saying that nothing was bothering him.

Being a Jedi wasn't a profession that promised a long life. It wasn't uncommon for Jedi to have a lingering pain from the loss of a friend or master. Miris believed the notion to be trivial in the grand scheme of things, but understood that it was just a natural reaction.

"Well, because she is." Miris responded. Her voice was soft, but seemed to have an echo. Was it created from the empty hallway, or through her own will? "Thee bethink of her, correct? Thee shall at each moment heareth her voice, seeth her visage, breatheth her scent, and feeleth her robes." Miris slowly moves both of her hands and presses against her chest, feeling her beating heart. Of course it would always be impossible to forget something, even Miris can remember the face of her dying master. "but.." she added on.

"Some birds art not meanteth to beest caged. Their feathers too bright, songs too sweet. Alloweth those folk wend. The parteth of thee yond knoweth t'wast wrong to imprison them, but rejoices anyways. Thy path hast hath changed, so continueth and beest steadfast. Would the knight understand what she meant? She wouldn't know. Just like the force itself, a direct answer was hardly given, only a thought. Miris reached for her pendent and held with both hands, her head facing the ground, before saying a short phrase in another language: "Gên we gân 3 êode onemn tôhopung, nâteðæshwôn fullan hæft."

@The Steel Stag
 
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