(Open) Earning Peace

[Ush]

(Come and join, any and all!)

The room was empty and utterly silent, save for one sound. The sound of Ryloss Narexsus' heartbeat. It was extremely slow, only pumping once every three or four seconds. This was meditation. A room of silence, or full of whispered voices that Ryloss found comforting. Force Hibernation kept your body still. Ryloss was sitting cross-legged on the floor, hands on his thighs and his back straight. After a few minutes, he inhaled. The sudden sound went on for ten seconds or so. After that, a few more minutes past. And then he exhaled, another ten seconds or so.
This pattern repeated for hours, it seemed. Ryloss was deep in thought, or at times, no thought at all. He was finding peace. He dreamt while he was awake, even if most people wound't say he was. He was utterly sure of everything going on around him. Some rooms away, a Knight was showing a Padawan how to hold a lightsaber right for the form they were doing. It appeared to be Niman.
A few floors up from where he was sitting were the quarters. Two young Padawans were kissing and giggling, checking to make sure the Master's didn't find them. Ryloss smiled softly at their youth. They would have to grow up in a galaxy of darkness. Let them have each other, if nothing else, as fleeting as their relationship may be.
Once more he fell into a dreaming wakefullness. He dreamt he was back on Tython, watching as the sky darkened and the Temple lit up. It was beautiful to him. He missed his home, all these years later. The Sith had corrupted it, now. They had corrupted nearly everything.
Ryloss' pheromones made the room seem warmer, more friendly to anyone entering. You could let yourself go in there. Ryloss certainly had. His eyes danced under their lids. His face was soft and unburdened. He looked ten years younger, and fifty years wiser. Nothing here could throw someone off their balance. Ryloss was unarmed. He worse simple white Jedi robes with no cloak and only a simple belt. He was smiling slightly, appearing utterly peaceful.
He dreamt that he was a child again, not fourteen years old. He was sitting in a tree, drinking some fine wine like he was a king. Under his feet his clan-mates chattered or drank or slept much like he was doing. Within a year, every single one of those people were dead. But that was not Ryloss' fault. He cleared his conscience of their deaths for the first time in his life. He had been uneducated, young and rash at the time. They had died while he had lived. The ache of their loss still grew within him, yes, but this was no longer joined by the helplessness of not being able to help them. They would join again, for an eternity of moments like that.
The next face to appear for him was Atreia's. Her death had broken him inside. It had led him to his Fall. But again, he could not have helped her. Lain was stronger than him. Than both of them. She was dead. He was not. Ryloss cleared his conscience of her death as well. When the time was right he could hold her in his arms and smile again, and they would be together again. But until that day, he could laugh in this life. He forgave Lain Derisma and let her face pass from his mind.
The next face had no name. Just actions. Standing to the last second at the Gates of the Jedi Temple on Curoscant, this Master had been strong until the last moment. He had died strong. Ryloss had been forced to run, carrying one of his best friends as he did. But that was not his fault. The Master would have understood. He could teach Ryloss strength in the next life. He let that face pass on and Ryloss let his conscience clear in his death.
And so he continued. Face after face passed his eyes, and each one left to join the ones before. Ryloss was soon only aware of the past. He did not listen, or breath or watch. He only found peace.

 

[Sisk_Renelo]

The halls of the Light of the Force were quiet, or at least as quiet as the dreadnought could be. Jedi by nature were a quiet bunch, which, while comforting at times, could be absolutely infuriating to the Corellian Master. For some deep seated reason, he had always preferred the hustle and bustle that generated sound, it reinforced the true nature of the galaxy in his mind. Life wasn't always serene and ordered. It was frequently chaotic, dirty, and busy. Sometimes Vin felt like the Jedi forgot that, as so much effort was made to make their environments as quiet and sterile as possible. Vin had seen it before, the absolute shock that some initiates and Padawans experienced when thrust into the galaxy outside their temples and enclaves. It was always amusing to watch, but it just reinforced the notion in Vin's mind that isolation wasn't the proper strategy. Intermingling was. But it was an unfortunate fact of the times that the Jedi had to be incredibly withdrawn, with Sith and their lackeys permeating the very fabric of the galaxy.

He allowed the Living Force to fill him, and surrendered his steps to the will of a power much greater than him. His eyes closed, his feet found their own path, leading him effortlessly around the Jedi that filled the corridors, absorbed in their own little world. Losing track of time, he did not know how much time passed before he stopped, his eyes opening slowly, and found himself in front of a small bulkhead door somewhere in the training rooms. Blinking several times in confusion, he shrugged, and palmed the locking mechanism, causing the door to slide open quietly as it read the Jedi Master's palm. He stepped over the threshold, and took in the small room.

Like most of the training rooms, the room had a large bank of windows that opened up onto the vastness of space. Vin had always enjoyed this. The windows were meant to allow an initiate or Padawan to look out upon the expanse of the galaxy and feel the weight of the burden they had chosen to undertake. Trillions upon trillions of souls, each a different personality, each a different feel in the Force. And all of them had an oath sworn to them, whether known or not, of a Jedi's protection and obligation. When he was a Padawan, he had spent hours in these rooms, meditating upon the responsibility handed to him in trust, and he remembered feeling overwhelmed. Now, almost three decades later, he no longer felt overwhelmed, but he felt the weight ever more clearly.

He was dressed plainly, his normal green outer robe left in his quarters, and a plain tunic the color of cream sat upon dark brown pants and leather boots. His lightsaber hung upon his belt, and his brown hair fell into his hazel eyes. Those same eyes fell upon the Padawan kneeling in the center of the room, and Vin took him in. There was no recognition in his eyes, for his long hiatus from the Order, and the missions he had undertook before the Fall of Coruscant had kept him from many of his fellows for a long time. But the lack of recognition did not stop him from feeling the man in the Force. Emotions radiated off of him, but eventually they faded slowly as the man meditated, being replaced by a feeling of serenity. Vin smiled slowly, and, although he did not wish to interrupt, felt the Force nudging him to do so.

A light cough escaped him, and he spoke, the gentle words seeming to blend into the room, rather than shattering the silence. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

 

[Kume]

How long had he watched this man? It felt like an eternity, but he just couldn’t resist it. Lol’vei, fresh out from the Mess Hall and a satisfying (but not the most scrumpious) meal in his stomach, had been passing by when all of a sudden, passing an open room amongst the white corridors, he felt the warmest comfort. He stopped in the doorway, arms crossed and claws patiently drumming on his upper arm for no reason besides as a means to keep his hand busy. His fur was already standing on end for the most part, feeling an energy within the room as the man’s eyes moved behind the crimson lids. He could feel a slight disturbance that was quickly silenced. He seemed so at ease, at peace with himself. This gave Lol’vei an idea. He sauntered in, tail swishing with his slight hip swing, then plopped down not a foot from him and prepared to do some meditation of his own.

He took a breath then planted his hands upon the ground, carful to keep his padded hands on the ground. His small braid of fur rested on the chin of his muzzle as he planted his head on the ground and stood his body straight up, toes towards the stars above. He closed his eyes and tried to find peace as well. But peace wasn’t something he usually found. But he would try. All he could feel was as if his spirit was on the trapeze, flipping and relishing the freedom of falling without the distress of death. Beyond his own thoughts, he could only feel the presence of the Red Man. And that was just fine. Then there was a voice and this caught Lol'vei off guard. His eyes opened as he could feel his concentration miss the trapeze, taking in a gasp as his body became imbalanced. And with that, onto his back he fell with a magnificent thud, the force sending his lightsaber rolling to the Red Man’s crossed legs. His leather jacket, still finely maintained, laid splayed open on the floor as he let out a grown. He brought his head up to see who it was, but of course that wouldn't have helped because he had not the foggiest idea who he was. "Oh, not at all...owww...", he coughed out as he lifted himself to sit. He popped the collar of his jacket and dusted his pants, feeling a bit embarrassed and having no clue how much of an idiot he'd looked like.

 

[Ush]

For a few moments, Ryloss ignored both. He was bringing himself back into his real life. His own life. He felt at peace, still, and he had a mad hope the feeling would keep within him for some time. He felt the lightsaber land within his legs, heard things, but he did not react for a moment. And then the blade was in his hands and his blue eyes were open, and glaring. He stared at the wolf in front of him for some time before speaking, the pale blue eyes looking into the red with nothing but annoyance. He held the blade up, inspecting it. He attempted to activate it but nothing happened. Closing his eyes once more, he reached into it and activated it from the crystal itself. The golden blade shot out and hung in mid-air. Ryloss inspected it for some time before deactivating it and slowly standing. His legs shook and his arms seemed unsteady, but he regained his balance. The lightsaber hung from his hands loosely, but the pup wouldn't be able to pull it from him. Ryloss turned and walked over to the window beside the Jedi Master. He stared out into space and began to speak, the voice little more than a whisper.
"It takes many hours to get into a meditative trance, especially as one as deep as mine was. For nearly seven hours I have been sitting here, clearing my mind of troubles and getting ready to move on with my life. And then you, pup, you came and broke that trance. Master-" he turned to Vin Galan, his face still soft and his emotions still utterly calm and peaceful, "-You interrupted nothing. You showed wisdom and curtsy with how you entered. But this pup... He showed nothing but arrogance, and laziness and brashness of the kind the Jedi cannot afford to have."
He then completed his turn and stared at the boy with mock anger that only Vin Galan would be able to tell was false.
"In a single, stupid, idiotic move you ruined hours of my work and wasted that time. Have you never heard of the Eight-Fold path? Have you never read the papers of the Masters long dead? Did you never think that I prepared this room for legitimate discussion and meditation?"
His grip tightened around the blade and he held it in his fist.
"You are not worthy to carry such a blade. You'll kill someone in your clumsiness."
And after that he returned to staring out the window, his body rotating instantly and the stars soon taking his view.
"Prove yourself worthy of it and I shall return it to you. Otherwise... Well, scrap metal does fetch quite a price..."
It was an empty threat, but Ryloss' pheromones had changed somewhat. Now his eyes burned with hatred, he stood taller than most and he had the girth of two men. The pup would have to conquer his emotions to see Ryloss for who he really was, and Vin Galan probably already had. If they did, they would see the smaller, softer version of the man they had just witnessed. Ryloss had used the pheromones to amplify what they saw. It was all emotion, nothing more.

 

[Kume]

As soon as Lol’vei made contact with the ice this Knight called eyes, his ears folded back immediately. He knew the stare; he was preparing for a lecture, but never had this look been so intense. Lol’vei took his eyes to the lightsaber that was held in the light grip of the Red Man. He tried the button and Lol’vei admittedly gave a small smile when he did so, which was quickly removed when he realized the trick and turned it on. The mood of the room began to shift and it made Lol’vei queasy. He felt a mild unpleasantness now, but could not at all place it.

Then came the insults. All words he’d heard before against him. As he began to stare in anger, Lol’vei became very perplexed. This anger…didn’t not seem right. As much as Lol’vei wanted to get angry, he had to keep himself under control. He would never try to even raise his voice at someone above him as he did not care the authority to do so. Then came the worthless remark and that made his fists clench at his side; a growl was threatening to enter his throat. Then as he turned back to the window, Lol’vei’s ears were fully perked in surprise at the threatening visage before him. He would not be intimidated, because that was not a Jedi’s way. Once he was certain the Red Man was done, he cleared his throat and took a few steps towards him.

”I am very sorry for interrupting your meditation sir,” he bowed to him, feeling already ashamed to bring himself back into anything resembling a subservient bootlicker. ”But I fail to see how joining you in your endeavor to find inner peace makes me arrogant, lazy, or brash. I am clumsy, yes, slightly startled while standing on my head caused me to fall.” Lol’vei had brought himself up and stood tall against the Red Man, refusing whatever stare or angry look he’d be giving him. ”In response to your questions, no, no, and no and I won’t pretend to know either and lie. But what I do know is that something brought me to this room and I came here because I felt it. And I may not be worthy of that blade and if you stand by that judgment, I’d not sell it. It may save your life. As for proving myself to you, I have nothing to prove to you and I refuse to prove anything. I won’t be intimidated by anger so much in resemblance to what our enemies’ wield against us. I can always craft another saber and if you chose to stifle the potential of a Padawan, than that would be incredibly petty. I say this in the utmost respect, but you have no basis of judging me. You have known me all of 2 minutes. And I, you. My name is also not ‘pup’. My name is Lol’vei Lun and I would appreciate it if you could use it. I again, apologize.”

Lol’vei had managed to keep his tone dulcet and calm, his breath undisturbed by his outpour against the unfair words of this Knight. In any other situation, things might’ve turned worse, but what little meditation he had done seemed to have his mind at the moment in a trapeze act, working to stay in the air, where it was safe.

 

[Ush]

For a long moment Ryloss kept up the facade that he was angry. He kept the glare and the odd shape of his body up for a moment as he attempted to stand the wolf down. It really wasn't working. Maybe all of his kind were like this, bull-headed and unable to accept when they were beaten. A race after his own heart, it seemed. He also noticed the Shistavanen had called him 'Sir'. Ryloss wore no braid that marked the Jedi Padawans. His had been caught in a door when he was twelve and he'd have a friend cut it off, and he didn't have the patience to re-grow it. And besides, he liked his hair short. Things like what had led to this situation didn't happen.
Now he had to let the tension go easily. Situations like this could only worsen if you let the negative feelings go too quickly. Ryloss had once had to deal with something like that. He'd been messing with a Wookie, pretending he'd spiked his drink and laughing at him. The Wookie had attacked Ryloss when he'd told him he'd only been joking. Ryloss refused to take responsibility for his actions in the next several moments, which had included a beating worthy of song and many unhappy patrons of the bar they were in. He had to diffuse this slowly. So he stopped producing pheromones. This would slowly return him to his normal state of slightly above average height and gaunt faced. He kept glaring, though. Ryloss' eyes betrayed no hint of calm yet, but his mind was still passive as it could be.
"Defiance. Some say that that will save you. But let me tell you this, pup: In most cases, defiance will kill you. Submit if someone who has power over you and you don't know what they're capable of. I suppose you were lucky here, I'm standing in the middle of the Light of the Force, but should you ever fall into the hands of the Sith... Play dog for them, if you forgive my little joke."
All the time the pheromones had slowly been returning the room to the aura of peace and quiet. Ryloss held out the lightsaber and it held in mid air, even as he turned.
"But apart from that, you handled yourself well, Lol'vei."
The lightsaber flew back to him, leaving mid air and heading towards him as if Ryloss had thrown it. The zeltron was looking at the stars, however, desperately trying to hold onto the peace.
"And as a final note, don't do a hand-stand. Blood rushes to your head and you'll be forced to move in ten minutes, but I assume you know that."
The lightsaber came back to mind.
"Oh, and make sure you buckle your blade in correctly. It is your life, as I am sure you have heard before. First time I received that lecture I nearly fell asleep, so forgive me for not repeating it again."

 

[Dóiteán]

Firion Jilara walked down the corridors of the flagship, having just arrived on a transport from Arbra. The young, white Amaran had arrived on the ship to learn. He looked around curiously, never having been on a ship this large. Firion only had his blue jean pants, black shirt, and jacket on with his training lightsaber on a belt across his waist. The young Jedi continued down the corridor, until he heard voices and someone say pup. He got excited, hoping that maybe there was another young Amaran. When he ran into the room, his excitement went away. He saw a Shistavanen, a human, and a red skinned human. His ears flattened a bit and his tail twitched in nervousness.

Firion continued in the room, his curiosity getting the better of him. The eight year old Jedi walked further into the room, slowly. He stared at the red-skinned male curiously. Wondering what he was, Firion stopped about three feet away and tilted his head slightly to the left. It was a habit of his when he was curious and unsure of something.

 

[Sisk_Renelo]

Vin stood by patiently, watching the exchange. The harshness was unexpected, even with the farce that was behind it, the reply even more so. He stepped forward, and help up his hands. "Peace, Padawans. This is a place for learning and contemplation, not angry words and flaring tempers." He extended his hand and grabbed the hilt in mid flight, pulling it to his own waiting palm, allowing it to settle easily before closing his fingers around it. "But young one, when someone stands to lose their balance, it is best not to do so with a danger nearby." He then turned his eyes to Ryloss.

"Defiance... The very path you walk is defiance, Padawan. Defiance to the Sith, defiance to the slant of the galaxy, defiance to the law. An unjust law, to be sure, but still the law. Do not discount the power of will and defiance, for was it not a barely trained knight that brought Anakin Skywalker to redemption, which led to the fall of an Empire? Will and defiance have changed the galaxy, and the time may come when you must call upon it." Vin was calm and collected, a teacher correcting a pupil, his words steady, the lesson within them presented in a way that the listener could analyze and decide upon their own beliefs. While Vin was a master, he was not one to force his teachings upon another, presenting possible options and letting them choose their own paths. It was not a prevalent attitude among the Jedi, and in fact had lost him Amilthi, his first Padawan, but his own personal failures did not deserve to impact others.

And then, a nudge in the Force. Vin turned his head, the lightsaber still in his grip, and noticed the young, white-furred initiate standing in the doorway. He allowed a welcoming and friendly smile to spread across his face, and dropped to one knee, bringing him closer to the level of the young one. "Hello, little one. Come in. There is no reason to be afraid."

 

[Dóiteán]

Firion slowly walked further into the room, aware that he was the smallest there. His ears layed flat, with his fluffy white tail twitching every so often. The young vulpine looked at the taller man curiously. He had met quite a few people on Arbra, and wasn't as nervous or shy as he was before he joined the Jedi. Firion kept quiet and slowly inched forward. He was a bit curious about the ship and many other things. Wondering who they were and what was going on, he stopped about a foot from the man. He looked at each of them curiously, mainly the red skinned man.

 

[Kume]

This red man’s philosophy was incredibly insulting, as was his insults. Ryloss’ eyes wished for submission, unfortunately he would find none from Lol’vei. In his youth, he had no ground in which to stand up against anything. He would not let any situation similar take hold of his decisions. He kept his thoughts in his head as he mentioned the Sith, ”A good Jedi wouldn’t be caught…” Then the antagonistic air began to vanish an all of the Shistavanen’s muscles began to calm, the rippling underneath his coat subsiding. His head’s haze began to clear as he took a deep breath. But even the Red Man’s compliment didn’t excuse the fact he played with someone’s emotions. While Lol’vei had no master to teach him, he knew when he saw Sith tactics. That was underhanded if he ever saw it. Then, the Master strode in, bringing peace between the two…Padawans? This man…had the gall to act as if he was above someone of his own rank? True, Lol’vei had taken the absence of the braid to mean he was at least a night, but…Lol’vei was already aggravated. His arms crossed, the jacket stretched over to where if felt slightly constricted at the sheer broadening of his shoulders as he took a long, exasperated breath.

The Master had taken against the red man, somewhat assuring Lol’vei’s defiance as a way of the Jedi. Then, a small child, not to unlike himself in appearance, entered the room. Lol’vei gave a warming smile from his muzzle and bowed his head to the youngling. ”Hello, there,” he chimed, tones dulcid as he turned to the master and bowed from the waist, “Thank you for your insight sir. I shall try once more to meditate and examine my actions.” With that, Lol’vei backed away from the group to the wall, plopped down, and sat cross legged with closed eyes. His ears however, were perked high in case there were any more gems to store away in his head.

 

[Jacano]

The lower decks of The Light had become a familiar setting for most of Redjyon's days and nights since he requested a transfer from Arbra. He had convinced himself that he made the move because of the need for more droid maintenance workers on the ship than there were on the dense forest planet. It made sense. He spend four years as a slave on a similar ship doing exactly this kind of work; however, those days were not pleasant ones. The cold isolation of the underbelly of the cruise liner made its appearances in all of his dreams since he was escaped the ship with the help of a kind Jedi. Why then would he seek out a similar setting? Arbra was a beautiful planet, life bloomed throughout the forests, the sun shined brightly over lakes and the tops of trees. He loved to drink in the rich atmosphere. Why, then, did he sign up for this position? Why did he leave the planet for a ship which dwelled far away from any star? From any Staryen? The deities he was taught to worship as a child on Tattooine. The deities who lived in every star and every ray of sunshine. Had he forsaken the gods of his forefathers?

He tried not to think of these things and as a result, spent more time than was healthy programming and reprogramming protocol droids, doing heavy maintenance where little was needed. "Would you care for some tea Master?" the droid repeated for probably the hundreth time today. It had been stuck on that phrase for quite some time, a result of Redjyon's endless fiddling. The back panel of the droid's head unit was open and Redjyon was sitting on a cold, metallic crate that gave him the perfect perspective into the inner circuits of the malfunctioning TC-3PO.

"Would you kindly care for some tea Master?" The droid changed his wording slightly but that didn't necessarily mean he was making any progress. Redjyon sighed and leaned back. He closed his eyes and imagined the sunlight of Arbra shining on his face. It was peaceful. It was sacred. He missed it deeply. Looking back into the circuit board, he noticed wire that had come loose, an incomplete circuit staring him right in the face. Hopefully this was the problem. It wasn't and upon connecting the wire to the locomotive region of the droid's cranial processor, the TC-3PO unit shuffled quickly out of the room and into one of the elevators nearby before Redjyon could get down from his workstation to stop him. The display panel above the droid's elevator told him which floor he was headed. He ran over to the nearest empty elevator and pressed the button that would take him to the floor where the bumbling droid wandered. As the door opened, Redjyon, with cheeks reddened, made his way toward the sound of the droid's endless repetitions of "Would you kindly care for some tea?". When he finally caught up to the droid, he had wandered into a room that held three padawans he had never met: two canine-like, one red-skinned as well as Master Vin.