Ask The Outlaw in the Library

[Laeonas Tannaras]

The Planet Ossus
The Broader Complex,and Ruins,
of the
Jedi Library and Academy
Y141//M3//D23,
0911 Galactic Standard Time


From a distance it was clear that Laeonas had arrived at some place of significance. Ossus was an incredibly sparse world, inhabited only by a few million primitives especially sensitive to the force.

At least, that was what he'd read about the place.

Beyond that, however, Laeonas had arrived for one specific complex.

He'd struggled to find someone to teach him how to use the force for... awhile. There was one man, a human he'd met on Coruscant-- but he'd lost contact with him years ago, and could only guess that he was dead. He'd met a self proclaimed Sith, and he thought he might have met a Jedi-- but only one seemed interested in teaching him anything of us... and he was the one who shot lightning out of his fingers.

The boy had come to reason that, if he was going to find any knowledge on the force beyond his own comprehension after years of self taught, amateur learning, this would be it. Laeonas might even find a solution to why his connection seemed to be growing weaker-- or better, how he could repair that connection.

Ossus had been a ruin for... basically ever. From what he'd read, it had only been recently when a handful of people had begun a project to restore the grand library.

That probably meant that he wouldn't be able to steal anything-- valuable manuscripts, the mythical holocrons, lightsabers, or any other treasures that had probably been carted off by the Jedi for safekeeping, or scavenged and pilfered by grave robbers over the centuries.

Ofcourse, he wasn't interested in stealing the knowledge for profit-- but for the knowledge itself.

He knew that the Jedi were protective of their vaunted libraries, or at least he'd heard they were. If he were being honest with himself, he really had no ideas about the Jedi beyond what their sworn enemies had mentioned, and the stories his mother had told him when he was little. He'd dismissed all of those stories as the words of women who wanted to comfort their children with stories of magic wielding heroes, or scare them into obedience by telling them that the evil Palpatine would eat them if they misbehaved.

But it was all true... at least the general idea. The empire had existed, so it followed that there had to be an Emperor. That Empire had ruled with an iron fist, so it wasn't to crazy to think that the man at the top was a monster, bent on power. It didn't exist anymore, so it was fair to say that the empire was either abolished, or collapsed-- and since the Emperor was bent on power, it would follow that it was brought down by force.

But by who? Maybe by the Jedi, and the heroes like the Old Ben Kenobi, and the Skywalker-- whether his name was Anakin or Luke, it didn't matter. He knew that the force was real-- the people who owned this place were real.

Approaching, the area he arrived at was... not in good shape. The central building looked in decent enough condition, but he was wary to approach unannounced. "OI!" Laeonas shouted, waving his arms. "Anyone home?!"
​

@Stick

 

[Rishe Vakren]

Someone was home. Many people, in fact. Despite the future public nature of the temple, the restoration efforts were quiet, and Jedi did not yet flock to the area like they did on Yavin IV. Just laborers, droids, and a padawan overseeing a project while the other Jedi will still out accomplishing tasks on Ossus. The weathered durasteel and stone structure, overgrown in many areas was fascinating to her. And the wasteland planet somehow gave her a feeling of life she rarely felt in other places.

A nexus of the Force. One would call it a Light side nexus, but she never liked the duality of Light and Dark sides, implying that both were part of a whole. On Ossus, she could feel the promise of that strength being returned. Just as the temple was being repaired, the Order would have to rebuild and strengthen the devastated planet to restore it's connection to the Force. Yet even now she could feel it, the Force coursing through her and bringing with it the hint of life and connection. It was a mystical feeling, even if the sensations were mere echoes of what had once been. Before the Sith.

A watcher had brought this man's arrival to her attention, and work was brought further inside the temple just in case. After the confrontation with the Syndicate mercenaries a few months ago, they worried about reprisal. Yet when she'd spent time meditating, catching glimpses and distorted views of their distant visitor through surviving, hardy wildlife, she was sure she didn't see any armor, and the man did seem to be entirely alone.

"Anyone home?!" His voice called out, echoing through the emptied stone halls. And as if summoned by it, someone emerged from one of the entrances, the Force bending light around them in such a subtle manner it might have seen a trick of one's eyes when she appeared. She was dressed in traditional Jedi colors, though the robe had been altered. More like a cloak, it draped over and covered her right side and front, appearing like a stylistic choice rather than what it was - an attempt to conceal an injury. Wavy black hair with a silvery sheen fluttered in air as she dropped from the platform, falling with a slow, controlled speed to land on the wasteland ground. Even footing with the approaching man. If he was searching for a Jedi, it was clear this woman was one through bearing and demeanor alone. It was an image she cultivated carefully.

Her saber was a familiar weight, resting atop the sling that held her ruined arm, her senses tuned and cautious. Part of this seemed like an elaborate trick, and she wanted to be ready to respond quickly if it was. "Not yet." She replied, a half-truth of sorts. "But you're far away from civilization. What's brought you here, and where is your ship?"

He didn't seem a mercenary - he wasn't armored enough for it, or in a group. Nor a scavenger, he had no speeder or ship nearby to cart away stolen artifacts. Genuine curiosity tickled the back of her mind - had he actually expected to find people in the temple when he called out?

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

The approach had at first been quick-- he'd been walking for hours, and this was the first bit of structure he'd seen in that entire time that extended past a single story. He'd grown more cautious when his answer was met with an appearance. It almost seemed mystical-- a trick of his senses, not unlike what happened to him on Tatooine, out in the Dune Sea with no water and baking heat.

That trick of light gave way to a cloaked figure, who approached the ground to slow to be normal. Laeo was familiar with a technique he'd used once; an improvised attempt at avoiding a speeder crash, when he'd flown up into the air quicker and higher than any man could jump.

He'd hit the ground like a rock afterwards, but to anyone paying attention, it might've been similarly impressive. Maybe.

The figure was a girl-- not that it would've mattered. The robed force wielder could've been a 122 year old man and his reaction still would've been the same-- a bit of surprise, but also a satisfied grin. Laeonas didn't know if he would find Jedi on this world, or this place-- but the satisfaction present either meant he was pleased with her, himself, or the current situation.

He paused for a moment, thinking of how to respond to the girl's words. Laeonas had, admittedly, probably made a bad impression on the last Jedi he'd spoken to, though he honestly wasn't sure if the Zeltron was a Jedi or just someone like him... with an oddly compassionate and protective streak.

Laeo wanted, more than anything, to get inside the temple and do a bit of reading, but talking to someone proficient in the force was also on his list of to do's. He'd managed to have polite conversation with force wielders before... once. Maybe he could try that?

Plainly, Laeonas began by opening up the long, black overcoat he wore-- exposing a blaster rifle and sheathed vibroblade inside. Dropping it, he almost looked like he was getting ready for combat... that was, until he dropped both weapons gently on the ground as well, and held up his hands.

"Ai'm not 'ere ta start trashin' yer laebrary. Already gone through 'nough from tha looks." He stated plainly, slowly lowering his hands.

"This is about the only civilized place on this world. It was'ard convincin' that captain to drop me 'ere, took about twenty minutes to find some place suitable to land. Fertunately, Ai downloaded a map and Ai walked fer a couple of days until Ai got'ere. 'At's whae Ae'v got fu-- never mind." Laeo suddenly cut himself off, ending the rambling with a lightly accented quip.

The boy looked like he was about to say something else, but he paused for a moment. "Ai... best demonstrate whae Ai'm 'ere. This might take a sec." He declared, turning around.

Turning, the boy reached out a hand-- and within a few seconds, the heavy coat leapt from the ground, and into his hands. Slipping it back over, his other weapons followed suit, and soon his arsenal was concealed again. He looked surprisingly inconspicuous, all things considered.

"Yer a Jedi... Ai think. All the stories Ai'v heard were of people in robes who happen to either be real'old men, or twenty-somethin' boys and girls runnin' around swingin' lightsabers and fightin' evil bad guys wearin' black." Laeo began, pausing. "...ai just realized Ai'm wearin' black, but Ai promise Ai'm not a'bout ta start shootin' lightnin' out of mae fingers all of a sudden."

"Wrap this up ya stupid git," he muttered to himself, before Laeo suddenly perked up again.

"Okay, er Ai used ta be real good with the force and that shite, but Ai got marooned on, er, Dantooine... and Ai can't even lift mae coat without havin' ta kriffin concentrate, so can ya let me read yer books and scrolls and holocrons and teach me how ta use this shite again?!"

"...thank ya."
​

@Stick

​

 

[Rishe Vakren]

The padawan didn't move when the man removed his coat. She saw the glimmer of the blade and the rifle, and remembered that grin. Maybe this was a Sith assassin of some kind, or some enraged child who lost a parent to the Jedi's peacekeeping. He seemed happy to see her, and nowadays - especially on Ossus - that meant someone was gunning for the saber bounty.

Her caution would give way to confusion as he willingly disarmed himself. His accent was hard to pierce, and Rishe watched him stumble over himself verbally. He was cautious as well. No, not cautious, he was trying hard to prove something to her. What it was, she wasn't quite sure, yet.

Though his reason for coming was soon clear. As his coat and weapons floated back into hand, a slow, dawning realization settled into her. It was strange, he displayed a level of control that was unnatural for someone without formal training.

"You're right. I am a Jedi." Rishe started, carefully traveling over each word. "And with the Force, age can be deceptive. But you don't need to be worried, I'm fairly sure I own a robe in black myself, and you won't be attacked for merely approaching a temple." She said with a smile, the man literally disarmed himself, she could give the appearance of disarming her caution in return.

She was walking closer to the man and speaking with a normal conversational volume, her right side kept slightly angled towards him. She couldn't deny that her heart was thumping, but she had to maintain an image of confidence and kindness if she wanted to know more. There was not much on Ossus that he could steal. Or at least, nothing that the Jedi were currently aware of. But aside from his level of mastery over the Force, she was fairly certain most of the Galaxy weren't casually aware about things like holocrons. She was certain he wasn't as ignorant as he tried to seem, and she needed to know more about this man and his story before he took a single further step towards the temple.

"But... you say you had a better control over your abilities before? Do you remember who taught you, or else, how you were able to learn? And do you know what it was that weakened you?" The padawan questioned, stopping a metre or two away from the man as wind and dust swirled by, rippling her robes. "Because the Jedi can teach you to control your abilities, but... there aren't often initiates or younglings with your level of exposure already."

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

The girl's quippy response to his comments about his wardrobe helped set Laeonas at ease, and the boy calmed rather quickly. The Jedi-- who had confirmed as much by this point-- approached him gradually, and her features became more clear.

She looked about his age-- maybe younger-- and looking a bit closer, the two of them shared quite a few features, at least close ones. Her hair was black, and so was his-- but his somehow managed to to absorb any bit of light that hit it. Here eyes were blue, and so were his-- but his eyes were an off shade, with a tinge of light green.

Laeonas couldn't help but be curious. What was her own background? Had she been like him-- the bastard of a noble, a girl who'd never known the luxury that worlds like his could afford to the right blood?

"Well... until Ai was a'bout twenty, Ai'd only ever been self taught. Ai learned mostly through experimentin', and tryin' ta teach maeself how to incorporate mae... abilities... into what Ai was good at." He began his explanation, though he felt like he needed to elaborate further.

"Ai learned combat, so, Ai focused on how Ai could facter that int'mae technique. Ai'm guessin' you'v got a bit of precog-- Ai traed teachin' maeself how ta slip that int'mae fightin." He continued, though Laeonas wouldn't be doing himself justice if he only talked about combat.

"Sometimes, Ai just... sat around, and Ai... can't describe it. Ai concentrated, and Ai listened. Sometimes Ai heard things, or saw things, going on, but most of the time, Ai felt... connected. Laike tha galaxy was stretchin' itself out," He tried to explain, before correcting himself. "Nah... life, that was what Ai felt. All of it, from the germs ta the nobles of mae world."

He paused, not sure how to continue his explanation. Regardless, there wasn't much more to explain-- except for his travels across the galaxy. Laeonas doubted that the Jedi girl would be as interested in talking to him if she knew that he was... well, a hardened criminal.

"Forgive me, but Ai traveled... awhile to get out here, and that's not ta mention my weeklong hike 'cross this planet's surface. Ai'm not tired, but... Ai would laik ta go somewhere that Ai can get a roof o'er mae head, and 'at buildin' looks like the only place round here that Ai can do that." He requested plainly.

It was up to her about what to do with the boy. She could refuse him, and Laeonas would simply... walk back to where he'd been prior, in which the captain would come by in a few days to pick him up again.

There was also the alternative approach for him-- combat.

He'd never faced a Jedi or Sith in single combat... at least not a skilled one. He'd seen combat from the Sith-- the one he'd talked to on Tatooine probably wasn't high up on their hierarchy, since he didn't have any prefixes before his name like "Darth" or "Lord" or any of that garbage.

By contrast, he had met Sith that looked more well trained... the one wearing the mask on Coruscant he'd seen practically five years ago at this point was... frighteningly skilled. He was confident that even if he were fully concentrating, and if they'd been reduced to hand to hand combat, Laeonas might have an edge... but it probably still wasn't enough.

So, was he standing before a mighty sage of the vaunted Jedi order? Someone of comparable power, with strength in the force outmatched only by the grandmasters and dark lords of the galaxy?

...or was she just more skilled in the force, and probably carrying a lightsaber?

He'd tried to glean an answer from under her robe-- which Laeonas hoped didn't look... lascivious. He couldn't find anything-- not even the glint of a lightsaber hilt.

The boy had barely seen anything, but he felt like he might be able to hold her onslaught off for long enough to kick some dirt in her eye and rush inside. He could grab any scrolls he could and than run as quickly as possible out of the temple and into the wastes...

...but more than likely he'd just get cut down.

So, Laeo waited for the answer to his request. She could take his time, he had all day-- and the next day, and day after that, and day after that.
​

@Stick

​

 

[Rishe Vakren]

Rishe paid careful attention to what he said, his dialect and mannerisms. The mention of nobles on his own world did make her a bit concerned. He seemed to lack refinement that you'd see out of someone from a noble class, and she doubted he'd be happy to know she'd been one of them. Best to keep that quiet, in case he was from Serenno.

Though, as he talked more, he seemed less like an insidious spy and more like a unique case. Perhaps the Force had led him here. Master Ran did say there are no coincidences in the Force. There's a talent to learning the Force on your own, but also heavy risks. He'll need guidance, and I'll need to convince him to seek it from the Order rather than trusting his own study.

Yet, she felt that tense observation from the man. Body language and Force together granted her glimpses of insight, bundles of emotions unraveling as she followed each thread. He was weighing his options, his desire to enter bordering on desperation. So he was likely sizing her up, trying to see what she might be hiding, and wondering how to get around her. If she turned him away, he wouldn't meekly go off into the sunset. If he was denied, he might do something drastic - and for that reason, she should reject him on principle. But if he was denied, a powerful force user would be unaccounted for, and the Sith may collect him instead. She at least had to try.

Though there was no point in displaying any vulnerability, so she kept herself angled, walking around him as if appraising the man herself. Yet, it was just a move to transition herself towards his left side, keeping her wound hidden under the nondescript brown cloth as she faced the temple. "Then you'll be the first visitor. Come in and rest, this will be a good trial run for when the temple truly opens. Though, I don't think I caught your name?" She asks, before introducing herself with a small bow after his response - if any, "I'm Rishe."

Spoiler

If he followed her, broad stone steps would lead towards a sizable doorframe that gave one a clear view of the immense atrium within. Dark stone dusted with orange sand, a domed ceiling with long-removed glass and sunbeams shining down upon a crumbling statue in the centre of the room, flanked by stone sentinels built into the walls. It was a ruin dotted with sentient life support, cables running over an empty fountain leading deeper into the complex, scaffolding, and the occasional durasteel support to keep the structure from collapsing atop workers and inhabitants. The ruins had had been desecrated and abandoned for eons, and the restoration efforts were still in their infancy.

And it was beautiful. Even as a hollow shell of former glory, the statues, the structure itself stood for an Order that Rishe had idolized since she was young. It was something the current Order could aspire to be. "Ossus was the home of one of the earliest Jedi temples. Perhaps it's fitting that you've come here to find us. Some of us have also returned for answers of our own - And Rin, it's safe, no need for any further alarm."

The last part of her sentence was aimed towards one of the high empty alcoves in the atrium, where an older human man was laying a blaster rifle across his lap. He didn't look like any sort of soldier, wearing only a jumpsuit, but if Rishe failed against some foe, most of the workers knew the other Jedi on Ossus might not return in time to save them from their fates. Of course, Rishe hoped she wasn't lying when she reassured the senior worker. She gave the visitor another look over her shoulder, motioning towards another doorway with her good arm.

Most of the temple was not long restored, but even so, she was taking him to one of the more ruined library wings. Built like an extruding spoke from a wheel, the walls were long, straight, and tall, tiny cubbies lining them from floor to ceiling, as well as broad shelves that occupied the edges in perpendicular rows, reaching nearly as high as the walls. Faded, crumbling decorations lined exposed stone where no storage for books, terminals, or holocrons were meant to be, and a smattering of benches, tables, and other furniture survived the ages in the center. Following the contours of the edges of the room, several balconies shot up towards the ceiling, providing someone access to knowledge at higher levels through stairs that have long since fallen apart. It seemed a very typical design for a Jedi library, the knowledge that it was only one of dozens - and none of those were even the primary library - still stunned and saddened Rishe. Eons of history lost to vultures.

"In better days, this library was one of several that might have held the knowledge you seek. But now, such knowledge only truly rests within the Order. Until we manage to repopulate these archives again." She said, aiming towards one of the better tables and taking a seat. "But for now, it makes a good place as any to sit, rest... and help you find your answers."

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Caution was completely understandable, and Laeonas didn't take offense when the Jedi still moved about carefully, studying him in turn.

At no point in his observation did Laeonas discount the threat the girl posed. Admittedly, she was smaller than him-- but she had formal training in the force. Sure, he had combat training-- self taught-- but she probably had a laser sword.

"Ai'd 'ave thought that more of yer kind would've been int'rested in a place like this. Ai learned about it through a couple'f roomers, and figured th'at the Jedi of all people would be crawling laike..." He went on, but Laeonas stopped himself before he said something vulgar. "Er, forgive me. Yer at least polite, Ai guess."

He almost continued, but he stopped, realizing he owed her his name. "Laeonas, er, Tannaras. The O is open."

At haste, he had followed the Jedi into the temple, or library, however either called it, inside. The architecture alone stunned him; no building he'd ever stepped inside of looked anything like this. The high dome, the statues, the supports and the various different works for rebuilding such a grand structure. It was all still underway, but Laeonas was still left breathless.

How could he have hoped to beat a girl in combat, when the order she was a part of lived in places like this?

As he found out nearly seconds later, any attempted violent confrontation would've probably ended with him either imprisoned or dead-- even if he'd taken the Jedi with him. The man on the overhang was proof enough that this place and the people in it were more than ready to handle any threats, even with only a handful of them even being there. It almost made him wonder why the Jedi was letting him in at all. He probably wasn't going to win any armed conflict, so it wasn't like she had no choice and was doing it to... protect herself?

It felt more like genuine kindness, if anything. She seemed to be doing this simply because he asked her; because he clearly felt like he needed to.

Maybe there was more to the Jedi than fae tails, even beyond simply existing? The Sith seemed to have a tendency towards being despotic pricks in his own mind and assessment of the stories-- so maybe the Jedi were similar to their own counterparts? Heroes, wielding the force for the benefit of others, rather than their own elevation.

When they arrived in the libraries, however, Laeonas was... disappointed. He had been partially right in coming here-- Ossus had contained knowledge, once. Now, there were only ruined halls like this... and the girl. The girl who'd let him in to see that, if he had been planning to steal anything, he wouldn't have just failed because he would've been cut down-- he would've failed because there was nothing to take.

A laugh escaped his lips as he realized the cruel irony of the situation. He was about to turn and leave, until the Jedi's words struck him. Laeonas looked stunned, for a moment... before a smirk slipped back across his lips. Gripping one of the nearbye columns, his gaze fell on the Jedi again.

"Ai guess Ai understand why ya pulled all of this; if ya said no outside, and told me th'at there wasn't anythin' in here, Ai wouldn't 'ave believed ya." He began, looking up and around this place. "At tha same time ya got ta show off what yer people 'ave done. Ai maight 'ave 'ad mae wonder turned to disappointment, but Ai was still... amazed."

Laeonas pursed his lips, and the grin turned into a frown. "But at tha heart of this... is The Jedi, and you. This whole temple, the knowledge in it. You wanted ta show me that the key isn't in the places like these, it's in yer order. The answers Ai want, the knowledge Ai want; mae understandin' would only improve if Ai asked tha Jedi th'emselves." He finished, finally making his way over to sit across from the girl.

"...or maybe yer still tryin' ta be nice ta me in spite of the current, shitey situation ya'v got with this place. Can't tell." Laeonas suddenly conceded, before reclining in his chair.

"Well?"
​

@Stick

​

 

[Rishe Vakren]

"Not all Jedi are historians. And not all historians study the same history." She replied to his curiosity. For her, the return for Ossus was less about history, and more about a return to form. Her reply to the question of what the Jedi Order needed to do. Return to the power and style of Orders of old.

Though it was relieving when he said his full name. For a moment, until she realized he wasn't noble. She wouldn't recognize it. She was feeling the smallest tinge of guilt, but as always, what she saw as her duty outweighed all. She adhered to it with all of her being, because she could also recognize envy creeping into her thoughts. That this young man had somehow cultivated his own control of the Force. Rishe had only barely managed to accomplish what she had now after half a decade of actual training. Nothing more than tricks. Well. Vahn did say to always have a trick up your sleeve. She thought, more than a little bitter.

And part of her worried about him being inducted. Would he outpace her? Probably. But it was still the Jedi way to try. Rishe the person held less authority over Rishe the Jedi.

Rishe relaxed as she felt felt flashes of temperance from the man, especially as they passed by one of the workers. Laborers and engineers wouldn't make very good sharpshooters, but she was fortunate it seemed to influence his perception of the odds anyway. However, his reaction to entering the library did alarm her.

But as his grin faded, her smile grew, broader than the last. He was intuitive, or clever, or she'd been doing a poor job concealing her emotions from the Force, and he was also highly tuned to them. Either way, he had a refreshingly direct manner. She really liked it.

"Well?"

"Can't the answer be 'both'?." Rishe said. "Motives being ulterior aren't automatically sinister, and they're not mutually exclusive with kindness. It's the way the Jedi must think. We typically live longer than the rest of our respective race, and our actions as Force sensitives can affect worlds, systems, and galaxies. And there are few inductees to the Order that have such ability with the Force as you do." It was equally a compliment and warning both. And she hoped that meeting his direct accusation with truth would be the most effective. He was smart enough to see through it if she lied now.

Maybe it was Laeo's earlier honesty, cutting through her just as she cut through Vahn's own mask. But, she kept talking. "And... I know how it is to plateau. You compare what you're able to do to all of those old stories and standards, but no matter how hard you try or what you learn, the improvement doesn't come." This was new for her, and she did find herself almost stumbling at times. It felt like an admission of weakness... but, the moment of levity was therapeutic in it's own way. And she could only be honest by lying to herself in some way, saying that it was part of the sale or tactic to convince this promising candidate.

"Part of the reason I was able to join the Order is because of my slow initial progress with... self education. The family line had little use for what I was able to do, and even then, the Order didn't, either. Holocrons, scrolls, and self-learning would not have gotten me to where I am now. And even if they could, if left alone, those talents would have been misused."

She'd perhaps regret opening that window into herself. The slipup was small, but to Laeonas, who was already observant? Her mannerisms would seem much more the part of a childhood upbringing than a rigid Jedi education. He could see that posture, the way she spoke. And worst of all, the padawan seemed blissfully unaware. "And perhaps I am proud of this. Despite the... 'shit-ey' situation. My plan, of all things, returned the Order to its former cradle. Now I think that's intentional. The Force led both of us here at the right time to talk now."

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Both?

The deflated boy's chest suddenly puffed out a bit again, and Laeonas raised an eyebrow. Listening to her explanation, he almost felt a bit... sickly, as he heard the words. They were laced with, initially, benefits to following the Jedi-- active, material ones at that. The only problem was that Laeo didn't consider long-term life extension to be anywhere near his most important priorities. He was young, and while he did participate in rather... self destructive habits on the regular.

Praise was... flattering, but he didn't accept it nearly as well as he might have years prior. He'd always fed into his own ego when it came to his ability to use the force. It was something he often fall back on in his lowest moments, reassurances that he could use to refute the insults that had been thrown at the boy in his youth. "Screw em', Ai can work miracles."

What Laeonas had come to realize, and the conclusion that would've been in stark contrast to his own ideas years prior, was that he... wasn't one of a kind.

It was undeniable that the boy had gifts. Out of the countless peoples to have ever lived, few were capable of what he was. But there was a difference between being rare, and one of a kind. He'd seen other people use the force-- and he'd seen them do it far, far better than anything he could manage even with all of his effort.

That conclusion had set in when he had arrived on Dantooine, and as his abilities waned from lack of use, and an increasingly unsettled mind, he had begun to suspect that his abilities, when compared to others with similar gifts, weren't impressive. So what if he could jump nearly two stories into the air, or lift a few tons of random garbage when he concentrated hard enough? There were men and women out in the galaxy who could heal wounds, who could kill an entire room full of men in minutes, maybe less...

...but as the girl spoke to him, Laeonas wondered if he'd been right from the start.

Here was a Jedi-- someone apparently devoted to the force, both in understanding and use-- telling him that he was actually impressive. That to come as far as he had with little to no help was apparently a rare achievement.

But what were her words worth? She'd essentially already admitted to trying to manipulate him. Maybe this was a speech any recruits might receive.

Even her attempts at relating were suspect in his mind.

It was one thing to compare oneself to old stories, but it was another to compare yourself to a person standing right in front of you. It was one thing to plateau and reach your limit-- it was another to sink, feeling your abilities atrophy from lack of practice.

But the most striking difference, Laeonas realized, was that he had been left alone; apart from his mother, and his grandfather on a few occasions, nobody around him was actively aware of his abilities... and he'd only ever really used them to his own benefit.

Maybe that was what she meant by misuse.

Pursing his lips, Laeo thought about the Jedi's reasoning. It wasn't... terrible. Their upbringings were obviously different, their experiences contrary in a number of ways... and yet...

Laeonas might have considered her words, assume the best, and responded with genuine thought and empathy... if not for two words.

Family line.

He stayed silent for a few seconds, previously pressed lips curling-- down.

"Y'know, Ai honestly can't think of a better way to go about buildin' up yer order! Ai mean, the way yer kind used ta do things was flawless; nobody ever challenged ya, and the Sith definitely didn't nearly kill every last one of ya till it took one of em throwin' the other in a pit ta actually stop em." Laeonas finally blurted out. There was an uneasiness in his voice; a sharpness that had previously been absent, and an obvious attempt at mockery that, had he been a bit more calm, might've actually appeared funny-- and not as a direct insult.

"It almost reminds mae of a conversation Ai once 'ad on some dustball in tha'Outer Rim! He had a laightsaber to, and he LOVED how things were before. Only, Ai distinctly remember his opinions a'bout yer kind were... hostile?" He sarcastically mused, before sitting up in his chair, and than leaning forward across the table.

"Maybe Ai can arrange a get together! If ya didn't immediately kill each other, ya could both 'ave a fine chat about all tha fun things yer orders used ta do! He could talk about 'ow the people who shoot lightnin' out of 'eir fingers, blow up planets, and treat everyone else laik a hydro'spanner." The boy continued, standing up, and inching progressively forward as he spoke.

"But yer not aevil, Ai'll admit. Ai'm not. Ai spent every day liftin' crates with mae mind. When Ai used it ta fight, it was because if Ai didn't, Ai'd'ave died. If Ai didn't steal wallets or chips or rob stores, Ai'd'ave died. If Ai didn't choke men ta near death, if Ai didn't throw 'em across alleyways, if Ai didn't hoist em in tha'air and toss em back down 'ard enough fer near every bone in their bodies ta break, AI WOULD HAVE DIED."

The table almost moved on it's own, though it was added by Laeo hoisting it, and tossing it backwards.

"What about ya, Jedi? Did yer family ever letcha get in a situation where yer laif was ever in danger? Did yer father-- whatever bullshit title he got because one of yer ancestors killed anyone who said the land they were on wasn't theirs-- did he ever letcha go hungry? Didja learn 'ow ta fight because ya needed to? Av ya ever fought someone-- really, truly fought someone-- knowin' that if ya didn't win, ya'd be in the kriffin' ground?" His questioning went on, increasingly provocative and insulting as he continued. Years of fighting, trauma, struggle-- the boy saw only her birth and background, and it made him furious.

"Or was yer gifts-- gifts any of tha billions on yer world or mine-- could've used ta'actually make their laives better-- just another perk of bein' born ta the right father, in a palace, not interminglin' with tha FILTH of tha masses?!"

By the time Laeonas had finished his rant, his hands were trembling. The centuries old dust around them was trembling with him, with small bits of rubble suspended inches off the ground.

And yet, there were tears on his face-- a face contorted in an expression of venomous, twisted rage.


​

@Stick

​

 

[Rishe Vakren]

His initial response wasn't what she expected. There wasn't many ways to take his statement as a joke, even if it lacked his current tone. She could feel a torrent of rising anger from the man, and the suddenness of it took her aback. She'd tried honesty, humility, and that's how he replied?

As he leaned across the table, the Padawan leaned back, her poise having been swept away in her moment of brevity. Then he started talking of the Sith, and the one thing that stopped her from doing something drastic was... his apparent disdain for them, as well. As he stood up and walked towards her, the Padawan's hand itched to reach for her lightsaber. Every instinct in her mind was screaming that he was about to attack. And when he threw the table across the room to shatter in the distance, she was torn between her own surprise, anger, and foolish feelings of betrayal.

But she didn't draw the saber. She didn't stand to meet him. Something in his tone kept her from doing it. Something she felt from the man himself, a raw pain. Her expression fell, and part of her tried to reach within herself for that drive. To yell at the man, rebuke him, prove him wrong about his assumptions on her. None of it was true. But to silence falsehoods with violence or scorn... that was how a Sith would handle it.

In front of her stood a testament of something she might have once condemned. A man who'd abused his abilities and had the gall to question her. But, he didn't fit the profile of a criminal she'd had in her mind. Malicious, greedy, selfish. He spoke with a pain and anger borne from struggle. And just as she'd wanted to assign that profile to him, he'd likely already done similar to her.

There's a distinction, then. Between those who made a choice because there were no others, and those who made that choice with other alternatives. The latter... makes a Sith. The former have been Jedi before.

She felt empathy. It was something she had lost sight of for nearly a year ever since the attack. It was easy at that point to rail against the world, to blanket in good and evil after what the Sith had done. Though, she wasn't sure how to process it, especially as she replaced that mask of a proper Jedi. She sat straight, seemingly unfazed by his emotions rousing the Force to disturb dust and debris around them.

Her hand motioned slightly, and Laeonas' own chair uprighted itself near his side. "I don't idolize history that recent. Our Order on Corusant had been a warning of our future fall and complacency. I look further back to the days of the High Republic. Thousands of years of peace. No clone wars. No rebellions. No empire. No suffering like you've experienced."

Perhaps it was naive for her to say that. There would always be suffering and strife, even the Jedi at the height of their power couldn't prevent all of it. And Laeonas wasn't incorrect. She hadn't suffered in her past life, not like how he'd described. She'd never gone hungry, she'd never had to fight to survive. Not until the Order.

She shrugged off her cloak with her good hand, draping the cloth around the backrest of her chair, and Laeonas got the look he had clearly been curious about earlier. Just a woman in plain Jedi attire, and a discolored, limp arm in a sling, with her lightsaber hidden within it. Words wouldn't have been effective for the man, for he'd made a picture of her that she couldn't merely argue away. But at least, in some way, she could get her own word in edgewise. Her childhood might not have been as horrendous, but she'd had physical reminders of her mortality in the Order.

And as the man in front of her shook with his torment, tears on his eyes... she didn't know what to do. What to say. How to further answer his allegations. Or how to address that rage, something that could so easily boil over if she made another mistake. Maybe he just needed someone to listen. "I don't know if they were. In the Order, we have former slaves, mechanics, rangers... and noble runaways. Force Sensitivity does not care for your creed or caste. And we all try to use our gifts to aid the galaxy."

"But the Jedi do care. Though, in the way that I've described earlier; we can often focus on the fates of a people over years rather than the person now. And I've done the same... I apologize." She said, the apology awkward as it left her. "Your trials aren't something I've experienced. But I would like to understand them all the same... if you would like to sit and talk."

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

As the Jedi was surprised by his response, so to was Laeonas when he heard the Jedi.

It was clear that at several points on his tirade, she had tensed up. Whether it was the apprehension she'd noticeably given off when he mentioned the Sith, or when he'd approached, or when the table had gone flying.

In truth, Laeonas didn't know what to expect at all. The Jedi were known for being good, and righteous... and for waging war at a moment's notice. She looked his own age-- not the best for staying composed when insults and attacks on your character are thrown at you.

Maybe he would've been surprised by any response she gave, but he initially grew confused when he reached out, and noticed...

...did she feel sorry for him?

It almost mad Laeonas want to go off on another tirade, about how "yer pity is worth kath'ound piss" or something of the like, but when she started speaking, he was further confused.

Concessions were how she opened; Laeonas didn't understand, at first, as the stories he'd heard of the gentle seemed like ancient fables-- but the Jedi stretched probably even further back than whatever stories of the Vader and Skywalkers and Kenobis were about. The temple he stood in was testament to that.

A couple of words nearly unsteadied him again; no suffering? As far as he'd known, his world had always been the way it was.

The bit he did know about the noble houses often involved grandiose claims of ancient lineages, stretching back to "the days of the imperial republica" and whatnot. The only ones who didn't was the one he'd taken his last name from, who spoke only of their manors, their glorious history of artistic and economic achievement, and whatever else the nobles thought made them people, and him not.

But... maybe there was truth. She wasn't lying or twisting words-- he didn't need the force to know that she realized being caught in the act would make him lose it again.

This temple was... ancient, but it had been reduced to this. If what she said was true, the libraries in here would've been filled with knowledge.

If a place as grand as this could become so terrible, fall into such disrepair, maybe his own homeworld was similar? Had it once been better than an overcrowded slum? The nobles might have still existed in the days that this temple was new-- but Laeonas started to wonder if in times past, the nobles might have been put in check-- he could never believe that they could be better.

What tempered that possible outburst was the display of vulnerability that came with the removal of her cloak. The Jedi didn't wear any elegant clothing, or much jewelry-- hell, even he had a pair of earrings in. That wasn't even to mention her arm, which Laeo noticeably winced at.

His crying had... simmered. The anger was still present, but as she kept speaking-- about the Jedi, about what their order looked like, and further, about the desire to listen, he started to question himself.

Here was some girl of apparent high birth, in an arm sling from some horrible injury, wearing the garbs of an order of space-born wizards. Here was a girl who hadn't drawn a lightsaber on him, when it looked like he was ready to strangle her.

Here was... a person. Not a construction of an identity that didn't really exist-- a living, flesh and blood woman, who shared his gifts-- and scars.

Slowly, Laeonas sat back. The dust around the two had settled, and he wasn't about to attack, or start screaming again. Responding to the removal of her garbs, the boy slipped out of his coat, and pulled up one the long sleeve of his left arm.

"Ai got this when Ai was twelve," He began, turning his shoulder around to reveal old scars from carbon scoring, "Ai'd stolen some guy's credits, so he pulled a blaster and shot me. Dropped tha credits, and mae ma beat me fer bein' reckless. Didn't make mistakes laik th'at a'nymore."

"This is from a kath 'ound th'at bit mae when Ai crashed on... Dantooine? Can never remember the name of th'at green pissball." He continued, pointing to a long cut across his forearm.

The boy kept on for twenty minutes, listing off scars, sometimes showing them to the Jedi when they weren't in explicit places-- at that point, he'd just describe them. They came from all sorts-- lascerations that had occured when he wasn't careful with factory machinery, blaster bolts that he wasn't able to doge, all the animals he'd killed on Brentaal, all the cuts from knives, the scrapes and tears from falls after he tried walking up a wall with the force.

When he finished, Laeonas didn't speak for a few seconds. He'd clearly remembered quite a bit of unpleasantness by going over old wounds. He looked up again, than took in a deep breath.

"...ai still stand by 'alf Ai said b'fore." He began, a slight frown still on his lips. "Ya can't tell me Ai'm wrong-- unless ya'v been divin' inta kinrath caves ever since ya joined tha Jedi, ya haven't been through what Ai ave, and ya 'aven't seen what Ai 'ave." He continued, a bitterness still present.

"...but, yer not some stuck up, overly entitled, piece of shite, tax stealin', mother of all **** aether, whose mum and dad also 'appen ta be her uncle and aunt." Laeonas finally conceded, looking away. "Maybe tha last bit's true, but ya don't look it."

"Ya maight've lived better than a good... well, most anyone else o's ever lived 'as, but instead of stayin' in yer palace and marryin' yer cousin and throwin' shite at people laik mae, ya chose to join a group of people who gotcha in a situation where ya went through th'at." he explained, pointing at the girl's arm.

"Ai didn't get ta choose shite. Ai was born... well, not ta nothin', but Ai maight as well 'ave been. Guess ya were lucky that yer mum and dad decided ta put weddin' wreaths on each other's 'eads... is th'at what they do fer marriage where ya come from?" He suddenly asked. "Kriff, Ai've been talkin' about me fer ages! Speak a bit about'cher self fer a bit, kriffin' 'ell!"


​

@Stick

​

 

[Rishe Vakren]

Rishe could see him deflate. She knew there was a point that his anger had nearly boiled once again, but she'd calmed the tempest within him. The room around them was quieter, the Force no longer disrupting the already destroyed library, or disorienting her already muddled thoughts. Frankly, she wasn't sure if it would have worked. Her mind had been thinking of backup solutions. Defensive strategies. Offensive ones. But he didn't force any of them. He sat down and talked, talked of his history and his background in a way that must have made sense for him; through his scars. For someone who had a life colored by combat and strife, it was effective a record as any.

And she let him recount each one. Each scar brought with it an emotion, something she could get a glimpse of. They all bore heavy memories.

But as he continued to talk, she nodded slightly. "Only one Kinrath cave, I'm afraid. And that has to be the highest compliment I've received in years." She finished dryly after the incestuous accusation. The tension had faded enough to where she felt fine to quip in return... if only occasionally. And it was rude. But, she didn't want to torpedo the small amount of goodwill she'd fostered so quickly. "But yes, you are still right. Our experiences are vastly different."

"It was a better life than many, but even after my choices, my fate is still kinder than most. The battle I earned this -" She motioned to her slung arm, " - claimed the lives of better Jedi." Her features were stony. Whatever grief or guilt she held, she did not want it to show. Instead, she took a breath, and continued.

Though he did ask about her. She hadn't wanted to elaborate on her life - especially her original background, or something as grandiose as marriage. She was sure he'd scorn it, or not believe her, or even if the mention of such things would incite his anger. She'd calmed him only through sacrificing in some sense, her own history. What did she deliver to him, what he wanted to hear? What she wanted to say? The truth?

Honesty had been one for one so far. And the momentum of the conversation carried her towards talking. "It was not a wreath. It's an exchange of gifts and promises over... a small period of time, usually between the individuals and their families. My father had said convincing Countess Malvern to part with her daughter was an expensive, dangerous process. Likely... as you've said, by taking things that were not his to take."

"The ceremony is a performance. Sometimes it hides that which isn't there, sometimes it inflates it. My parents did not love each other, but they were close as friends or allies. Their vows were simple, their final gifts were exchanged, and the aides signed contracts in the background as there were duels and festivities." She says, matter-of-factly. "And they weren't cousins. Serennians hold different things to import, and maintaining a wreath as a family tree is not one of them. To them, an ideal Serennian noble is... well. Just an ideal. Skilled fencers, shrewd diplomats, just Lords, men and women who can stand alone against great threats to protect family, or holdings, or obligations."

He'd asked about the traditions of marriage, and about herself. She'd tried to answer both, even if the historian padawan might be dry in her explanation. In a lot of ways, she could not quite leave her home behind, even if it had been happy to reject her after her tantrum and flight. She'd abandoned her family there, and found purpose in another, the Order. Even as a Jedi now, she bore the planet's mark. Self reliance. Independence. Duty. Perfection. Yet she'd never been good enough, much less perfect, even if she tried to look like it.

"I'm sure you'd be neither surprised nor disappointed to know I had to be molded into shape from a spoiled, whining child into what I am now. Master... Master Ahotta Ran was the woman who did it." Rishe said, but her words had grown softer. She ran a hand through her hair, pulling her locks out of her face, a comforting gesture. "And she taught me how to feel in the Force. She said I felt emotion strongly - stronger than most. We'd go into the jungle and meditate, and I could feel her, and everything, and everything they felt. The life. The desires and drives of everything nearby."

And she felt it when Ran died. When Tionson died. When Avon died. And she felt each life she took on Denon, unfairly stolen, yet she'd failed to take the two that mattered most, those who deserved it the most. All she'd done was get in the way, and come out scarred. She could have gotten Vahn killed, too.

That was enough of that. She squared her shoulders, "But, it's not the Jedi way to talk forever instead of listening." She said. Even if he had asked her, she was certain he didn't want such an in-depth look. And... she didn't want to look in there too deeply herself. So she motioned towards a small bit of rubble, and it shot towards her hand, before following the gentle twist of her wrist to float towards Laeonas at a slow, steady pace. The ball - or pebble - was in Laeonas' court. "You had no choice in your early years but to suffer and survive, and those trials have brought you here for a brief rest."

"And we have talked of what's happened in the past, but what do you want to happen, now that you know Ossus doesn't yet carry the answers you're looking for? Arriving here proves you're more than scars, and much more than nothing. And now you have choices too."

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

There was quite a bit to analyze with what she mentioned. The story she told wasn't... nearly as extravagant as he expected. Perhaps he'd set his expectations to high-- even the nobles had vast differences in wealth between them on his own world.

The titles didn't matter-- lord, count, it just meant someone who was rich, and who believed their blood made them better than anyone and everyone around them.

Laeonas audibly laughed when she mentioned the lack of familial relations between her parents-- a surprisingly high pitched, almost childlike tone to it. He was entertained, admittedly at the Jedi's expense, but the previously threatening man looked more like a happy young boy, at least for a moment.

Despite it all, she still appeared calm, humble, even reserved. She talked about her training, about some master, and about how she was probably insufferable when she was younger. He thought back to his own youth, and he almost started to cringe when he began remembering all the garbage he put the people around him through.

So, here they were; force wielders the both of them, two of high birth. One who'd been embraced into her people's upper class, and who'd known the luxury so many could only dream of. Across from her sat a bastard, a rejected son.

His eyes traced the air as he saw her movement of the pebble, and as she released the grip her mind had upon it, Laeonas took it with his own. Arriving in his palm, he'd take a deep breathe, than speak.

"Ai left mae world because Ai wanted ta do more than... whatever it was Ai did there. Ai lied, Ai cheated, Ai stole, Ai even killed people on occasion." The boy began, sighing a bit before continuing. "Ai was good at it-- Ai am good at it. Ya can hire an enforcer, someone ta break tha bones of people who 'aven't payed their protection fees. They might punch a guy in the stomach, they might break some thumbs... but that's normal. Imagine bein' some random junky schmuck who owes money ta some crime boss, and when tha'nforcer arrives, he doesn't put a hand on ya-- instead, ya just start floatin' in tha kriffin' air."

"And why the kriff would Ai enjoy that?" He suddenly burst out, lashing out for next to no reason. "Mae Ma always acted laike Ai was enjoyin' it! That Ai took pride in bein' tha guy who runs around, usin' his gifts ta make some scumbag credits." Laeo snarled, anger in his voice. "She's tha'only one who's ever given a shite about me, and Ai constantly let'er down-- and Ai was kriffin' tired of it, so Ai left! Ai promised maeself that Ai'd make it in this shitey galaxy Ai was born in."

He breathed heavily, slowly calming as he spoke. "And what 'appened? Ai kept at it. Ai was finally given a choice, and Ai kept choosin' ta let'er down. Ai ain't doin' that shite anymore." The boy finally proclaimed, both anger and resolve emanating off of him. Looking her in the eye, the boy continued, "Ya chose ta spend yer life outside a palace. Ya chose ta spend it fightin' those lightnin' shootin', wrongin' sons of *****, and buildin' up old ruins."

Perhaps she was hoping he'd humbly ask if he could join the Jedi, perhaps not. He couldn't know, but Laeo's answer would be the same regardless.

He was slow, at first. There was a clear reluctance; but he began to speak. "What Ai want is n'tirely linked to mae past, Jedi, so forgive mae fer goin' off about it again." He began, collecting himself. "Ai told ya that Ai came from nothin'. There was more ta that; in truth, Ai could've been so, so much... more."

The wistful tone the boy gave at the end of his words were followed up by a sullen expression, and embittered words.

"Mae... da... Ai think his name is Alexandras Tannaras. He's a lord on mae world-- probably laike... tha most important on tha planet. 'Is family-- mine-- owns 'nough of the ports around tha planet that they're wealthier than tha next... two largest 'ouses put ta'gether." He slowly explained. The boy clearly wanted to say more, but he waited. Laeo could feel his emotions, trying to bubble up to the surface again, but he kept calm... as calm as he could.

"He happened ta shack up with mae ma, and that's 'ow Ai'appened. But unlike yer parents, Mae ma wasn't a noble, and neither were married. A'ccordin' ta law, Ai'm not mae dad's son-- 'ell, they'd probably deny Ai exist if Ai walked right inta their palace a couple kilometers out from Cormond." Pain colored the boy's face, even if he tried to mask it with an attempt at humor.

"Ai wondered a lot a'bout 'that when Ai was younger. Never seemed fair, never seemed right. Ai know Ai'm 'is kid-- the portraits of all their family Ai've ever seen look laike me, but fer some ginger 'air." He simply continued on, recounting the mental conversations he'd had with himself to many times to count. He looked worn, all of a sudden; maybe tired.

When he finally found the energy to speak again, the less than enthusiastic tone he'd previously delivered his words with were replaced by a level of self righteous frustration one might expect out of a senator; yet it escaped through the mouth of a petty criminal.

"Rishe," He began, addressing her with the name she'd given to begin with. "Ai'v... got a debt that needs collectin.'"

He paused again; this time, Laeonas gave her a look that hid a storm behind it. "There's been a debt that house Tannaras has been needin' ta pay fer twenty-faive kriffin' years, and that comes with a hefty goddamned int'rest. Ai'm not collectin' fer any crime boss this taim; Ai'm the one owed. Owed fer every day Ai didn't know if Ai'd eat tha next. Every week Ai went without bathin', every taime Ai got beaten by cops fer lookin' the wrong way, every taime Ai thought Ai was gonna die-- and every taime Ai'ad ta look up and see their crests on speeders, or Look at holos of their palaces."

Laeonas hadn't lied when he said that he had thought so much about the circumstances of his existence. It was his narrative, his justifications for anything and everything. The conditions he'd lived in had shaped him, and they were very, very different conditions to what everyone else related to his father had ever experienced.

It wasn't fair. He didn't know how he'd make it right; even if he became as wealthy as a man with his name would suggest, it wouldn't undo any of his suffering. It wasn't revenge-- it was justice, and his anger was sharp-- and righteous.

Only... the anger radiating off of Laeonas wasn't anger at all. His feelings were subdued; there were no outbursts this time, no sudden tirades, no yelling, no insults.

Because his anger wasn't anger.

It was hatred.

Seething, copious, and near limitless hatred. He almost felt sick; the wrong was surrounding him like a cloud, choking out the air and forcing him to take in poison. Closing his eyes, he slowly tried to calm himself. Rishe could definitely sense his feelings, and she probably could've even without force sensitivity.

"Ai came'ere... ta learn 'ow ta use tha force properly. Ta get trainin', and not only that, Ai just wanted ta learn. Ai can read and write basic, and Ai know some countin'-- that made me a kriffin' scholar compared ta'veryone else, but there's so much... more out there." He continued, a calming soothe washing over his mind.

"Ai want ta make maeself the man Ai should've been. Ai want ta wear tha'mazin' gowns, walk in mine own halls, own a palace. Ai don't ever want ta want again--and Ai want ta use what Ai'ave ta do it!" Laeonas kept speaking, words followed by words, revealing his highest aspirations with increasing excitement. "Ai want ta soar where Ai should've, climb out've the goddamned much Ai've been stuck in mae entire life. Ai'll make mae da wish he hadn't dropped me in the shite pile, Ai'll make him wish he'd 'ave put aside whichever one of his sisters or cousins or whichever stuck up **** he married and kept mae ma by 'is side, cause Ai'll either become better than any sorry excuse fer a lord the rest of mai family's ever put out, or Ai'll burn it all ta the kriffin ground!" He shouted, an almost manic looking grin stretched across his face. He spoke with a passionate fervor that could only ever come from belief; sincere, pure belief...

...in himself.

"...so, unless tha Jedi are ready ta train a little shite laike mae... well, comin'ere would've been a mistake, raight?"


​

@Stick

​

 

[Rishe Vakren]

Rishe had witnessed his volatility before, but no better was it on display than when his emotions shifted from that childlike mirth to a barely restrained control, to frustration, to that hatred she now felt.

The man was unstable. She didn't need him to lash out and destroy the room to know his vulnerability. He may hate the Sith, but theirs was not the only ideology of the Dark Side. She knew that some texts made clear distinction between Sith, and those known as Dark Jedi.

And she was witnessing it. She didn't know how to temper it, how to beat it. Darkness was insidious like that, for a torch still cast shadows. Wherever she would try to confront it, it may still linger. But that's probably why this would be a task for a Jedi Master, not herself.

But, he might be willing to stay. And at least listen. If that could be done, she'd be able to get him to talk to a Master, someone who could better dissuade the man from his impulsive tendencies. "I would not say coming here was a mistake. You're controlled by your emotions, Laeonas. You temper hatred with ambition. Sorrow with mirth. But that is what the Order can teach you to control. They are always ready for someone like you."

"Your journey does not need to start now." Rishe said. The longer she could avoid an imminent slaughter at some far off noble estate, the better. "There are comfortable places to stay even within the ruins. I could send for a Jedi Master... and you could talk to them. It would be their choice on whether you can be trained. The wait would not be long, so the debt's interest wouldn't grow too much, would it?"

There was not much more for her to say. If he'd rejected the idea of Jedi training outright, she might have made a more impassioned plea... but she knew of how some men grew with their delusions. She was not experienced enough to confront them, not effectively. But there are parts of Laeonas that she was sure could be worked with. His desire to rise above, to be better, to enact justice. Even if it was warped by his experiences, the Jedi could still work with it.

But, on the other hand, she feared his darker emotions. She felt that hatred. She felt how strongly he was led by them. He claims to have distaste for the Sith, but they could convert him easily, she was certain.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Much had been said between the both of them thus far, and it was undeniable that his outbursts would have left an impression. Were it still the practices of the old order that governed the Jedi's decision, Rishe might have commanded him to leave immediately, told him that he was to emotionally compromised to be trained. Further still, she might have even attacked them-- though for the both of them, that was the last possible decision they could make.

Yet the girl had approached him differently. Laeonas was still puzzled by her words, regardless; were his feelings not justified? Had all he'd told her meant so little? He was about to scoff audibly at the thought, but he bit his tongue, allowing her to continue.

She had practically extended an invitation to join, much to the boy's visible surprise. Really? Ready for someone like him? A streetrat, colored by years of heinous deeds and who'd sunk to the lowest depths to survive? The best case, he'd imagine, hadn't reached nearly as far as this. He'd simply expected to just be allowed to peruse some knowledge, but... tutelage under a Jedi Master?

The prospect caused Laeonas to take a deep breathe, as long as the drawn out sighs that had accompanied most of his bouts of speech. It was hard to comprehend; years prior, he had thought that the Jedi were a fae tail, told by mothers to help their children sleep well at night. He'd long ago realized how untrue that assessment was, but even after all that time, the prospect of joining them seemed impossible.

She'd told Laeonas that the order wouldn't care about his background, that the lowest of the low and highest of the high could all join, but such a prospect was daunting to a boy who'd spent his entire life living on a world where the population was stringently separated by hierarchy and class. What she suggested was everything his world wasn't...

...and, looking at the ground, Laeonas couldn't help but smile at that idea.

What better assault could there be on his people's tradition? What better way to rebuke the insults and injuries against them, than by becoming part of a legend they venerated as heroic? He could almost taste the shock and vitriol, both barely contained.

What would his father think if he marched into the palace one day? Clad in robes, the hilt of a saber at his belt. How shocked, how humiliated? To look upon the product of a "bout of fun," to look upon the son he'd denied existed, and to know that he was part of one of the most celebrated orders in the history of the galaxy.

To an extent, it all seemed perfect. Justice! 25 years of scorn repaid with humiliations and a feeling of utter stupidity. Justice...

...though, was it?

What was actually happening in this situation? Laeonas would be trained in the force, and he could flaunt his new talents and titles to those who had wronged him, but would that really meet any standard beyond his own feelings? It would just be gloating and revenge at that point.

If he was being honest with himself, he had never, ever been a just person. His entire life was defined by him wronging others-- perhaps it was his desire to change that prompted retribution.

Frowning, he'd look up at Rishe. Laeonas' feelings had... changed towards the ex-noble, now Jedi. She didn't seem like the stereotype of a noble lady he'd developed in his mind. Born into privilege? Undeniably so; but one who believed herself superior because of that fact? Never.

"Ai wonder, if our positions were re'versed, what would've 'appened ta tha both of us? Maybe Ai'd be sittin' where ya be, and ya'd be sittin' where Ai am. Maybe Ai'd be convincing some girl with a coreword accent and dialogue mixed in with a Serennese di-lect and a bit'f cogney shite that joinin' tha Jedi would 'elp er find closure in laife. Maybe Ai'd 'ave tha cast on, and one of mai arms would've been kriffed up-- only signs Ai'd 'ave ever nearly died fightin.'" He elaborated, a light smile on his face as he continued.

"Or perhaps those sith shites would've grabbed Mae since yer world's definitely not coreword, and Ai'd 'ave been one of tha pricks on Denon zappin' yer Jedi friends with lightnin." Laeo suggested, a frown erasing the light smile. "Ya seem ta believe Ai've got a lot of potential-- potential ta do good or bad, at least from where yer sittin', that's how ya think of it."

"...but maybe at tha'end of t'day that's what matters, past all tha shite either of us 'ave been through. Ai'll collect on mae goddamned debt eventually. 'ell, maybe trainin' would 'elp me learn a couple'a ways ta make credits if this doesn't work out." He finished, a smile returning to the boy's pale face. "Ai'm sure Ai could pawn a lightsaber fer quite a bit if Ai ever built one."

"So... Ai'll let yer masters take a look at me and decide if they really, really think Ai can laike... learn here? Ai'm not gonna start wearin' yer kriffin' robes and shite-- no offense, but ya look kinda silly." He continued, broadly gesturing at her outfit, and the robe she'd removed. "Ai can't do it... now. Ai'v only got a few days 'ere 'fore mae ship comes back ta pick me up. But in tha meantime... Ai wouldn't mind a lesson from the only Jedi Ai'v seen 'ere so far?" He asked, a suggestive grin covering his face once more.

"Dunno if unsupervised trainin's allowed, but 'as somethin' ever really happened unless we agree it did?" He asked, a the grin growing a bit coy.


​

@Stick

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[Rishe Vakren]

"Were our positions reversed... well, I don't think you would have fallen to the Sith. And if you didn't, I would hope you made better decisions than I once you joined the Order." Rishe says, calm. She was used to the disturbing jokes Laeonas would throw out at this point... and he could only mention the disaster at Denon so many times for it to lose its strength. "Because Serennians are... independent. They don't like the idea of servitude underneath either the Jedi or the Sith. To them, the two groups are often one and the same, as ridiculous the notion is. If you were a powerful force sensitive, you could have ended up a happy pawn of the politics."

But at the end of the day, that didn't matter. They were who they were right now, and as Valtiere said, worrying about consequences or if things could have been different would not change that. Rishe knew the conversation was turning into a gamble, her hand against Laeonas'. He was betting that his hand - his independence and desire for revenge - would keep him away from truly entering the Order. She was betting that the Order would curb those things in him, change Laeonas, and perhaps, help him find closure so that he wouldn't need to leave.

She'll play that round. For all of his talk about her privilege, she learned how to play those card games from smugglers, except now, the cards were much more abstract, and the consequences of a lost round were dire.

Though, she wouldn't deny that twinge of annoyance when he mentioned pawning a lightsaber. Her lips pressed into a line, and she looked about ready to say something - but no. He would learn soon enough. Plenty of initiates and padawans are this stubborn and difficult, she was sure of it. And he'd agreed. Against all odds, she got him to agree to talk to a master, to even consider Jedi training.

"Not all padawans wear robes." Rishe said, though disdain slipped into her tone. She held respect for the Jedi Order, for its traditions and symbols. She wasn't as comfortable as throwing them aside as some of the other Jedi were - and if anything, she held to them more tightly as the Order grew more lax.

Though he did want a lesson. Part of her considered it, to keep him happy. But if she withheld it, he would be more likely to come back. There was a chance that once he took off from Ossus he may very well be satisfied, spurning the order. Plus, as he said, she couldn't teach him how to harness the Force. Even if he thought it may have been fun to spurn the rules, she was not of a mind to do so again.

So the rejection was nearly on the tip of her tongue before she said, "Close your eyes. Focus on your emotion. Give a name to what you are feeling, and each time your thoughts shift, apply a new name to it. Hatred. Joy. Ambition." Rishe ordered. She stepped around his chair, leaning down a little with her hand on the backrest. "Those feelings are strong in you. A Master will teach you to accept them, and through acceptance, you reach understanding. Through understanding, you reach control."

"Many perceive the Force in different ways. To me, these emotions are braided within you. You can tug on each strand to influence these thoughts, but each movement shifts everything within you. Just as the Force connects everything - your thoughts, your emotions, and your psyche are connected to what makes you... you." Rishe continues.

"When you feel that rage, that hatred, take what I've said into mind and meditate. Then you can Identify and stymie it. Once you control yourself, you can better control the Force."
She doubted he would be able to grow mastery over the Force from this brief, tame lesson. Though hopefully he might notice some positive effects... effects that may return him to study under a Master. And ideally, him controlling his impulses might aid her. It would make him less susceptible to the base influence of the Dark side.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

"Independent? What, a whole planet of people who embrace lords don't wanna serve 'Sith Lords'... why? Cus they're crazy? Ai don't get it." Laeo immediately stated, a bit unclear about what the difference between being ruled by a lord off planet and lords on-planet would mean. Maybe it was because the lords of his own world always felt so far from him, that the idea of putting stars between him and them didn't feel that much different. Even if he could see his lords-- which he never could, beyond their displays of vanity-- how would it change his life?

The boy had appreciated her previous vote of confidence, in that he wouldn't have come to join the Sith. Her judgement was probably better than his on that front, at least to an extent. Though, maybe that logic was flawed-- he was the one who ultimately knew himself in the end.

"Really? Clothes? Th'at's what gets ya peeved after all Ai'v said?" The boy thought, finding ways to amuse himself with what the Jedi did. The instructions she'd already given had stuck to his mind, so for now, he waited. She might grow a bit more annoyed with his antics if he continued, thought, so Laeo finally decided.

Both his eyes shut closed as the girl asked. His muscles grew lax, as he chose to apply basic meditation techniques-- at least, that's what he thought it was called-- to what he was doing.

He opened his mind to the wellspring of emotions he felt. Channeling memories that provoked all feelings-- the jolts of fear that came when his mom yelled his full name aloud, the sorrow that came whenever one of the people in the gangs he'd joined and grown close to dropped. The many, many sources of anger. The pride, envy, greed. Compassion, mercy for people who'd make the mistake of shooting at him, or the screeching rage that prompted him to pull the trigger.

The boy's face tensed up. He gritted his teeth, his nails dug into his palms.

Around the boy, the general rubble on the floor trembled, than floated-- but unlike before, it continued to rise even past the inch or two it had previously. That rubble rose into the air, feet up, and even small objects around the room began as well. Chunks of old stone or metal, broken lamps stationed on tables.

The force was no braid to him; it was a web. His mind, his feelings, they all splayed out before him, interwoven. Perhaps he could still tug, perhaps he could see it, feel it and manipulate it. His mind could only barely comprehend it all, and what he realized was that all he was doing was looking at himself.

How had this become so difficult? He'd always been able to look at the force like this before. His contemplations could include not just his own mind, but the minds of everyone in the building he was in, if he spent enough hours on his meditations.

The boy wanted to sink into the depths of despair... but as he swam through his mind, he realized what he had done.

Laeonas had stepped back into the pond.

Opening his eyes, the movements around them began to simmer. The boy himself looked a bit frazzled, the return to form being... odd for him. Looking at Rishe, he said nothing, at first.

Than, he gave her a light smile.

"Ai 'aven't tried that in awhile. Used ta do it when Ai was bored, and there was nothin' on tha holo, or no booze or sticks around. Pretty soon Ai was doin' it just fer tha'ell of it. Honestly, can't believe Ai forgot." The boy explained, chuckling a bit.

"Ai never bothered ta'focus on what Ai was feelin' though; Ai was mostly int'rested in what was goin' on. Mae'eart beat, breathin', other people, tha sounds around mae. Maybe focusin'in on all tha... matter, of things, wasn't what Ai should've been doin'."

He sat, idly. The lesson was long, long overdue practice. And now, he had no idea what to do.

"Er... should Ai leave?"


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@Stick

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[Rishe Vakren]

Well, that was mistake to have discussed. "Not all nobles are neglectful, and some planets prize munificent, dutiful lords. The Sith Lords, however, share only the name with nobility. Their empires bring about slavery, genocide, and galactic subjugation on a scale you will not see from any other. Even a poor noble is preferable to any Sith. But... this will distract you from focusing. Continue."

Rishe watched Laeonas' meditation with a clinical distance. She could feel the emotions welling inside of the man, the strong battering against his will and control. The internal turmoil grew into a tempest externally, and the room's rubble began to rise with the invisible tide of the Force.

As time passed, it was slowly becoming clear that Laeonas would not succumb to his baser impulses. Not this time. Part of her felt a strange pride, forcing her to match his smile with her own against what was surely good sense. Because another part worried about his success, had even hoped for his efforts to be frustrated, not for him to succeed with flying colors.

Envy. It was a dangerous emotion. How easy it must be for Laeonas to waltz towards the nearest Jedi, throw a fit, and be guided back to his old strength. It made her smile feel artificial, like it was painted on. Her grip on the back of his chair tensed, but she was practiced with concealing her own internal turmoils, even if she did not fully control them yet. They would return to the box, she would be the good Jedi she must be.

And what would a good Jedi say? "Looking within is just as important as looking outwards. I would not say you erred in focusing on what you felt, though. You should be doing both, not neglecting one sense for another. In this way, perceiving the Force is... like perceiving the world. You see, you hear, you smell, you taste, and you feel. The absence of one sense takes away your understanding of the whole. And these senses can be made keen with training."

It was a blatant nugget of temptation. Rishe was also concerned that... now that Laeonas might consider himself healed, he would not return. It was easier to blame her dissatisfaction with his success on that - it was a less petty reason. But as she gathered her robe over her sling, she raised an eyebrow at his next question, genuinely surprised.

"Do you truly think that I - a Jedi - would kick you out onto the wasteland? Especially when your ship isn't going to arrive for days?" Rishe asked, but answered her own question before he could deliver his - of which she was certain he'd say yes, "Of course not. I will show you to a vacant bunk, and I'm sure dinner is only an hour or two away if you're hungry. While you get comfortable, I'll contact the Order, and see if a Master can't arrive before your transport. If they do, you may be convinced. If they do not... I hope that you return to Ossus quickly, before you make choices you can't return from."

She left the question for Laeonas as she started for the door, beckoning him with her good hand as she'd lead him out of the ruined library, and towards the small, restored portion that served as home for the current workers. The sand had been cleared away, there were working lights, and with the Jedi having brought this strange visitor into the midst of the temple, he wouldn't be challenged. At least, not openly.

True to her word, she'd make sure he found a vacant bunk, and would promise she'd return soon. Though she'd be gone with a flash of brown robes, following thick power cabling deeper into the temple.

The area she'd find herself in housed a small Jedi shuttle, the 'paper airplane' she despised so much. It was hooked up to the restored bits of the Temple, providing power for utilities, as well as serving as a primary point of contact with the rest of the Order. She sat herself at the co-pilot's seat, and with some brief tinkering, she managed to activate the communicator.

Thin blue lights would cover her as the holo-message began to record. She straightened her posture, and took a moment to settle herself and her robes before she spoke.

"This is Padawan Vakren. I have found an unusually powerful force sensitive on Ossus at the restoration site, and there is a chance he can be convinced to join us... if a Master can beat his offworld transport here." She said, her voice satisfyingly clear of cracks or other tonal errors. Force forbid she stammer over her words on a message to the Yavin temple.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Coming out of his meditation, Laeonas had to begin processing what had been said prior to… whatever it was he had just done. Pulling back in his mind, he refocused on what Rishe had said prior. Listening back, his lips curled down ever so slightly, and the boy held back a couple of colorful insults.

Her replies to his comments weren't received well internally, and while he might have exploded had she said such things to him previously, he was actually starting to tolerate Rishe’s presence.

It wasn't just because she was useful to him; while that was still abundantly true, the boy with the raven hair had started to actually appreciate the company and conversation she provided.

Besides, when he thought for a few seconds about the self proclaimed lords of the Sith, she didn’t exactly seem wrong in her assessment that they would be worse rulers than what he’d already lived through.

“So on yer world tha lords actually give a shite about their subjects?” Laeonas mused, more thinking aloud than actually speaking to Rishe. It was an interesting concept; the idea that the problem with his world wasn’t that the system was broken, but that those running it were bad. It would logically follow, therefore, that removing the lords in question would solve the issues of governance.

Ofcourse, discussing political structures wasn’t what Laeonas had come here for; it was wisdom, and understanding of his own abilities. It was the words that followed his meditation that interested him the most.

Perhaps it was a simple lesson; but in truth, he hadn’t ever truly had the opportunity for a lesson of any kind. Getting even a word of guidance from the Jedi was more than he’d received from most anyone about his abilities; especially when 90% of the reactions involved people screaming at him.

"Ta be perfectly honest, whatever this is-- tha force-- never struck me as somethin' that could be compared to tha rest of tha world." The boy began, addressing her as he tried his best to explain, "At first, sure, it felt laike what'cha said; usin' mae eyes, mae'ears, everythin' fer mae perceptions... until Ai started graspin' tha'way Ai just did."

"It's one thing," Laeo went on, brow furrowing a bit, "Ta'use yer abilities ta lift some rocks, or break some bones, or maybe kriff up people's perceptions and whatnot. It's a'whole'nother sense-- but it's obviously connected to the rest of our perceptions. This shite is based off life-- Ai know it-- and it's connected ta'everythin', including you, me, an' everyone th'at's ever lived."

It was a... basic understanding. More than most would hope to have, and one that was mostly only quick to grasp due to his on-hand's practice. He'd only come to half the conclusions he'd already had from just... using the force.

The rest, however? He could say that Rishe's own words had a bit of an influence.

What came next broke the somber tone and replaced it with a... lighter one? Regardless, Laeonas had replied to her question with a, "Yer actin' laike ya'a'ren't tha first Jedi actually wearin' robes and hangin' out in a temple that A i've met. Tha rest run around actin' laike me, but nicer!" He exclaimed, an amused grin on his face when Rishe asked her question.

Still, there was no way in hell that the boy was about to turn down free room and board. Laeo followed behind, and when shown to one of the bunks-- in a small barracks that looked mostly empty-- he'd quickly climb up and sit for a bit.

The boy didn't have much in the way of material goods. He would've thanked her, or paid for her troubles; that wasn't something he normally did, all things considered, but nobody in their right mind could ever hope to call this meeting "normal."

He hadn't listened to her calls for a master; rather, the boy had sat, and waited, with very little to do.


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@Stick

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[Rishe Vakren]

“So on yer world tha lords actually give a shite about their subjects?”

What would Rishe tell him? The answer that she would have liked to tell? The answer he wanted to hear? However she thought reality really was, on some spectrum between the two points? She looked to Laeonas, conflict and consideration in her gaze. "Some did. All should." She admitted. The energy she'd had when defending her home - her background - was not as strong anymore. That pride she'd used as a defense sundered by Laeonas taking her pettiness in surprising stride. She had wanted to sell an idealized idea of her home, and Laeonas was not the only person she wanted to convince.

But those are bitter memories. Full of longing, doubt, and fear. Into the box they all went, for there were always more important matters at hand.

"Comparisons to what we know are often all we have, especially for something like the Force." Rishe says, latching onto his own observations of the Force, "What you're talking about are dual essences of the Force; The Living Force, and the Cosmic Force. The Living and its connections feeds into the Cosmic, which drives the will of the Force. And it is why there are no true coincidences, as it directs and shapes those connections according to will. I... believe I could share a personal datapad or two if you would want to dive further into that kind of topic."

The padawan was growing more comfortable with the conversation, no longer circling around Laeonas and observing his meditation like a Rancor handler. Her good hand rested on the back of her own chair, tilting it towards her as she leaned. And despite her misgivings, the former pupil enjoyed the talk, and was eager about the idea of sharing some of her own readings - especially when the topic was mostly safe and non-utilitarian theory. Many Jedi were well-read, but there were few who seemed to enjoy it, and to this end, she regarded Laeonas out of the corner of her eye, trying to make the offer seem more like a generosity rather than what it really was.

"Tha rest run around actin' laike me, but nicer!" Rishe didn't miss his comment as they were exiting. "I know." She replied, with a strong attempt to keep her tone even and lacking in judgement, and still failing.

Much later, her request had been heard, acknowledged, and replied to. The Masters on Yavin IV were, of course, interested, and there was the polite praise levied her way for defying the odds and competently handling something as a Padawan. But even with the Sojourn Paper airplane. class of shuttle, the Knight they sent wouldn't arrive in time.

Part of that worry hung in her stomach again. Some part of her knew she wouldn't retain this initiate - not this time. She did not quite believe in the Force having a predetermined destiny for all, but when it interfered, its pull was strong. Laeonas would not remain on Ossus, despite anything mundane she attempted. What happened after would be unknown to her, whether he returned, or acted on his vengeance and greed.

She tried to quiet that sensation by tightening her grip on her satchel. She'd left it - and annoyingly, Vahn's gifted darts - at her own bed, further in the Temple. It was heavy, but it was a familiar weight. And another familiar face greeted her when she returned to that barracks.

"I'm surprised you stayed in here. You seem like the type to explore." Rishe said diplomatically as she entered, setting her satchel down on a small table as gently as she could.

Thunk

Rishe was about to provide Laeonas something to do, if not pass off material goods of her own. Though, she'd definitely see the value of her gifts differently from Laeonas, though whether or not he was amenable to them would depend where he fell on the spectrum of fascination to complete boredom. He said he'd come to Ossus to understand and strengthen his abilities, and Rishe would not in good conscience give that to him. Not yet. But she would pass the theology along in hopes he'd be receptive.

@Tom