For All The Broken Memories

[Myla Lessi]

(OOC: This is my roleplay/story out of Myla's release from the carbonite and the following events.)

Out in the fields, the farmers say, is a haunted ship. They say it crashed into Lothal, and everyone on board was dead…well, those who were alive in the first place. The droid crew had mostly been wiped out by the crash, and the remainder were swiftly destroyed by enraged locals. And so it sat, for over a hundred years, unbothered and untouched. Even the wildlife avoided it, although nobody could ever agree if it was out of respect, or out of fear. The legends and tales were told through generations, each retelling changing a detail and adding it's own twist. No two people who live near the wreck will tell the same story. Some say it carried spare parts, others a superweapon. And, on a crisp Lothal morning, the last functioning system onboard the mangled starship finally gave out. The carbonite block had lasted well past its assigned lifespan, a testament to its long-dead creators. So, with a whirr, the carbonite dissolved…and out fell the thing inside.

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The first thing that registered in Myla's mind was that it was awfully chilly. The second was that she couldn't see. The third, that she was a ssore. As. Heck. With a gasp she stumbled forwards, landing hard. "Agh…Master!" Myla called weakly, before she remembered her master was dead. And wait, wasn't she supposed to be a Separatist prisoner? The Mirialan listened, but no droid threatened her. In fact, everything was eerily quiet. No monitors hummed. No clankers muttered in the background. Odd. Struggling blindly to her feet, she felt her way along the wall until she found an opening in the wall. Had the ship been shot down? Myla stepped out-then instantly tripped and fell. "I…help…please…" She tried to see where she was, but everything was black. The confusion, stress, and hibernation sickness were too much for the nervous Padawan, and she collapsed, unconscious.

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Jekel elbowed his friend, Quen. "Dare you to go into the wreck!" The two human teenagers were a good half-mile from the ancient crash site on a small, grassy knoll overlooking the destroyed shuttle. Quen pushed back playfully. "Heh, Only if you come with me. Maybe we'll find some battle droids or something." After teasing each other back and forth for a few minutes, they finally decided to go down together. Jekel led the way, dark brown hair bouncing as the boys jogged down the hill. Suddenly, he halted, and Quen stopped beside him, a confused look on his face. "What's wrong, Jek?"
"You hear that?"
"Hear what, man?"
"I thought I heard-there! From the direction of the wreck!"
"Let's check it out." The two dashed at full speed towards the wreck, almost tripping on the Mirialan. Quen knelt down and rolled the girl onto her back. She was wearing a light blue cloak, and had a fitted blue bodysuit on. Her black hair was a little dusty, and her hand rested on her chest. "Who is she?" Quen asked in a hushed voice. "I don't know. Maybe we should take her to the farmstead."

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[Myla Lessi]

Unsurprisingly, Jekel's mother was less than enthused. "A stranger?" She asked suspiciously when the two boys came up to her and explained the situation. The woman examined Myla's unconscious face with a dubious expression. "Oh, all right. Bring her in." Jekel and Quen picked up the makeshift stretcher and entered the small hut. The inside was not much to look at. A few stools were placed haphazardly around a wooden table, and three cots off in the corner designated the sleeping area. A set of stone stairs led down to a makeshift cellar, which housed an old stove and miscellaneous household items. "Mother? Should I get some water?" Jekel asked uncertainly. His mother, Mika, nodded, and soon Jekel returned with a water-filled wooden mug in his hands. He silently passed it over, and Mika held it over Myla's mouth, allowing the water to dribble down.

Myla coughed and shot up, then winced. Now she had a nasty headache. A voice said something off to her left, but all the Mirialan could see were some blurry shapes. "What happened?" She muttered, gingerly touching her forehead with one hand. Someone handed her what felt like some kind of cup, and she raised it shakily to her lips, almost splashing half the contents in her face a few times due to her impaired vision. Finally, she took a long sip and lowered the mug. Her eyesight was starting to improve, and she could make out two or three people looking at her. "Are you okay?" The shortest shape asked nervously. Whoever it was sounded male. "Mostly. Wha...where am I?" The person farthest from her spoke up. Another male. "This is Lothal." Myla struggled to recall the name from her groggy mind. Lothal, Lothal...oh, right. She had had a geography quiz before departing for Jabiim. Lothal was a smaller planet. Lots of farms, a few industrial sites. "How did you get here?" The smallest shape piped up again. Myla took another sip of water before answering, trying to clear the headache. "Ship I was in...crashed." Then she gasped. "My master...I need to get back to the Order."

 

[Myla Lessi]

Now, Jekel had heard a few unbelievable things in his life. Like the time a farmer was fixing his sink and accidentally caused a flood that wiped out half his crops. Or when two guys took to hunting the local wildlife-with a turbolaser. He hadn't believed that story until he had heard the weapon, thundering out death to some hapless rodent at three in the morning. But this? A Jedi? Who had somehow crashed right into their fields? He figured the chances of that somewhere around one in one billion. "Prove it," he said without thinking. "Prove you're a Jedi." His mother glared at him, but he had already said it.

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Myla's vision was slightly less blurry, but it was still pretty bad. So when the blob asked her to prove she was a Jedi, she sighed and almost said she couldn't…and then remembered something Master Yoda had told her, back when she was a youngling. "Require sight, a Jedi does not. Better than simple methods, the Force is." So the Mirialan closed her eyes and concentrated, searching with her mind, reaching out. The first item she found was the mug, so Myla allowed her focus to wrap around it, elevate it. It took more effort than it should have-probably on account of the sickness-but Myla heard a gasp, indicating that she had succeeded. Once she had confirmation of her achievement, she slowly lowered the cup into it's original location. "Satisfied?" she asked quietly.

 

[Myla Lessi]

Mika, Jekel and Quen just stood there in shocked silence for a few moments. Jekel's mind was spinning. A Jedi. A real, live Jedi. He had heard tales of their grand heroics and incredible powers. And here was one of them, sick, half-blind, and non-conversational. "Yeah," Quen finally said, breaking the awkward silence, "We're satisfied."

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Myla pulled back her hood, her dark, short hair secured by her darker headband. She shrugged off her cloak weakly, revealing her form-fitting, long-sleeve black top and dark leggings. Her boots were the same midnight black, but the soles still had a few pieces of mud in between the grooves. She knocked a small bit of it into her green hand, then winced at the sight of it. Jabiim mud. The thought brought with it hundreds of memories, playing back to back: an AT-TE detonating, sending debris smashing through the ranks of clones. Another padawan, sobbing as she sat at her dead master's side. The blast that killed Myla's own master. She felt the tears running down her cheeks, and she fell back onto the pillow that her hosts had generously placed under her head. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the vivid memories. "No…" She whispered.