((Open for anyone who is commonly on Yavin IV; just think about how you'd find out about Vahn's secret mission!))
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Vahn Berand was on a secret mission. He held a bundle cradled in his arms of the highest importance under his dark grey robes. Perhaps he could even be expelled from the Jedi Order! But no matter; Vahn couldn’t conceive of a mission more dire than the one he was embarked upon at this moment.
Then, a voice. Vahn crouched, using the shadows of the growing night as cover as he approached. Lights flickered in the distance between Yavin’s trees. With the temple far behind him, for all intents and purposes they were, or should be, all alone with just the company of the starry night above them.
“I have returned…” Vahn said, turning around the corner of a tree into a clearing in Yavin’s jungles. “Unseen, and unsuspected, triumphant!” he crowed, and shouldered his robes open.
Vahn fanned his armed wide, producing several sealed bags packed heavy with sugary frybreads. He grinned as realization spread across the cadre of younglings, padawans and even a handful of the non-force sensitive refugee children that now lived on site. It had been difficult to get enough treats to satisfy the small party he’d managed to sneak down into the jungle as is; it would have been difficult to justify exactly the right sort of treats for the “training regimen” he had in mind; so there was an ample supply of nuts, dried fruit and meat. Vahn had an interesting interpretation of what “Survival Training” meant. But that wasn’t *really* what he wanted for this venture, so he’d had to sneak down during the day to make sure he could, well, appropriate some fresh goodies from Aola’s kitchen. She’d understand.
A handful of the older padawans and younglings stood up from the campfire they’d been tending and approached. Vahn handed over the bags of frybreads.
“Make sure everyone gets at least one,” he said, needlessly as they went to start distributing his plunder.
“Master Berand, are you sure we won’t get in trouble? Master Jido always says we need to show restraint and wait for meal time.” A young girl spoke while nibbling the corner of a frybread, a short, beansprout of a Togruta. One of the younger children he’d seen at the temple.
Vahn folded his arms over his chest, and conspicuously looked from side to side, ignoring the question.
“How strange. I could have sworn someone was trying to talk to me just now.” He said, while looking off to a faded, partially rusted over durasteel plate that he’d fixed to a tree. What seemed like ages ago three sets of hands had scoured the words “No Padawans, No Knights, No Masters!” with a lightsaber. One elegant and restrained, one refined and flamboyant, and the last clumsy but bold. Vahn remembered that day.
“Vahn, is it okay?” she said, correcting her speech after a moment with a small unsure smile on her face.
He smiled, and crouched down to tap the youngling on the nose.
“It’s okay if I do it. I’ll just say I ate them all. They’ll probably believe it.”
“Cause you’re so big!” The little togruta clipped between a giggle, and Vahn grinned before flexing one arm into a curl.
“And strong! Don’t forget strong!” he said, standing after a moment as the little padawan scurried off to a series of old mats he’d salvaged from the temple’s hangar.
The padawans and younglings sat in a wide semi-circle on the series of cobbled seats he’d managed to smuggle. There was even a blasted out old X-wing seat he’d found in the temple’s storage room. Vahn didn’t want to think about how long it had been sitting back there, but it was still comfy enough once he braced it against the trunk of a tree. He was certain to claim that one for himself right away. A pile of sleeping rolls were tucked off to the side of the small camp.
The real treasure, however, was an older model, but still highly functional holovid projector that he’d hooked up to a portable generator in the center of the clearing. He’d had this for a long time, stashed away in the storage bay of his X-wing but he always took care of it. Sure, the colors could be a little off, and the resolution wasn’t the best, but someone important had given it to him.
“Alright everyone,” Vahn said, clapping his hands together as he walked in front of the holoprojector. “Sorry I kept you waiting so long, I’m sure the expert performance of Cav Bryno was enough to just keep you all enthralled while I was away,” Vahn fought to keep a straight face against the chorus of “Boo”s and hisses. The Cav Bryno films were just awful. Exactly the sort of schlock that invites one to cringe and laugh at the same time. Vahn had no idea how the man had a career for so long. He delighted in the bit of torment he'd put them through while he was away.
“What should we watch next?” Vahn asked, thumbing through a datapad that had a listing of the many, many films he’d stored on the projector. Mostly Jedi holodramas. Well, actually, almost entirely Jedi holodramas. Lots of Jedi holodramas. Perhaps too many. “We’ve got “A Dream of A Thousand Fountains” Good action, bad acting. Oh, this one’s great; “Between Duty and Sacrifice”. This one has some really *interesting* ideas about what it’s like to be a Jedi.” Vahn grinned as a chorus rose in favor of “A Dream of a Thousand Fountains”.
Then, a voice. Vahn crouched, using the shadows of the growing night as cover as he approached. Lights flickered in the distance between Yavin’s trees. With the temple far behind him, for all intents and purposes they were, or should be, all alone with just the company of the starry night above them.
“I have returned…” Vahn said, turning around the corner of a tree into a clearing in Yavin’s jungles. “Unseen, and unsuspected, triumphant!” he crowed, and shouldered his robes open.
Vahn fanned his armed wide, producing several sealed bags packed heavy with sugary frybreads. He grinned as realization spread across the cadre of younglings, padawans and even a handful of the non-force sensitive refugee children that now lived on site. It had been difficult to get enough treats to satisfy the small party he’d managed to sneak down into the jungle as is; it would have been difficult to justify exactly the right sort of treats for the “training regimen” he had in mind; so there was an ample supply of nuts, dried fruit and meat. Vahn had an interesting interpretation of what “Survival Training” meant. But that wasn’t *really* what he wanted for this venture, so he’d had to sneak down during the day to make sure he could, well, appropriate some fresh goodies from Aola’s kitchen. She’d understand.
A handful of the older padawans and younglings stood up from the campfire they’d been tending and approached. Vahn handed over the bags of frybreads.
“Make sure everyone gets at least one,” he said, needlessly as they went to start distributing his plunder.
“Master Berand, are you sure we won’t get in trouble? Master Jido always says we need to show restraint and wait for meal time.” A young girl spoke while nibbling the corner of a frybread, a short, beansprout of a Togruta. One of the younger children he’d seen at the temple.
Vahn folded his arms over his chest, and conspicuously looked from side to side, ignoring the question.
“How strange. I could have sworn someone was trying to talk to me just now.” He said, while looking off to a faded, partially rusted over durasteel plate that he’d fixed to a tree. What seemed like ages ago three sets of hands had scoured the words “No Padawans, No Knights, No Masters!” with a lightsaber. One elegant and restrained, one refined and flamboyant, and the last clumsy but bold. Vahn remembered that day.
“Vahn, is it okay?” she said, correcting her speech after a moment with a small unsure smile on her face.
He smiled, and crouched down to tap the youngling on the nose.
“It’s okay if I do it. I’ll just say I ate them all. They’ll probably believe it.”
“Cause you’re so big!” The little togruta clipped between a giggle, and Vahn grinned before flexing one arm into a curl.
“And strong! Don’t forget strong!” he said, standing after a moment as the little padawan scurried off to a series of old mats he’d salvaged from the temple’s hangar.
The padawans and younglings sat in a wide semi-circle on the series of cobbled seats he’d managed to smuggle. There was even a blasted out old X-wing seat he’d found in the temple’s storage room. Vahn didn’t want to think about how long it had been sitting back there, but it was still comfy enough once he braced it against the trunk of a tree. He was certain to claim that one for himself right away. A pile of sleeping rolls were tucked off to the side of the small camp.
The real treasure, however, was an older model, but still highly functional holovid projector that he’d hooked up to a portable generator in the center of the clearing. He’d had this for a long time, stashed away in the storage bay of his X-wing but he always took care of it. Sure, the colors could be a little off, and the resolution wasn’t the best, but someone important had given it to him.
“Alright everyone,” Vahn said, clapping his hands together as he walked in front of the holoprojector. “Sorry I kept you waiting so long, I’m sure the expert performance of Cav Bryno was enough to just keep you all enthralled while I was away,” Vahn fought to keep a straight face against the chorus of “Boo”s and hisses. The Cav Bryno films were just awful. Exactly the sort of schlock that invites one to cringe and laugh at the same time. Vahn had no idea how the man had a career for so long. He delighted in the bit of torment he'd put them through while he was away.
“What should we watch next?” Vahn asked, thumbing through a datapad that had a listing of the many, many films he’d stored on the projector. Mostly Jedi holodramas. Well, actually, almost entirely Jedi holodramas. Lots of Jedi holodramas. Perhaps too many. “We’ve got “A Dream of A Thousand Fountains” Good action, bad acting. Oh, this one’s great; “Between Duty and Sacrifice”. This one has some really *interesting* ideas about what it’s like to be a Jedi.” Vahn grinned as a chorus rose in favor of “A Dream of a Thousand Fountains”.