.:.Mhenlan meditated in the middle of the chamber, the cold tiling of the floor seeping itself through the brown robes of the Kiffar. He drew upon the force, letting its power flow through the Jedi Master. He felt at peace with the force, the very look on his face was enlightening. A lot had happened since he was rescued from Arkania from the grasp of Darth Calamity. Mhenlan imagined a flame and let all his troubles be absorbed by the flame. Meditation was one place where the Jedi Master could truly be at peace. Supposedly the Jedi had a new padawan, by the name of Reron Andross. Mhenlan Vos awaited anxiously in the training chamber - he enjoyed training padawans, but it was also a great risk. He remembered his former padawan - who had such potential was murdered by the Dark Lord Darth Calamity. Mhenlan had much to teach this newcomer - through knowledge comes power.:.
The Training of Reron Andross
- Thread starter lordember
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"Sorry, wrong room."
'How in the world does anyone find anything in this place? This is why I stick to the archives...'
Reron Andross, the pupil of which the Council had so many high hopes...was lost. And this wasn't the first time, either. When one is late for a Council meeting, and their excuse is, 'I got lost' after a lifetime on the Jedi secret training facility, people begin talking.
It was his padawan acceptance all over again...
"Sorry again, do you know where I could find...er...Master..."
He quickly glanced down at his datapad. It had the room number, the Master's name, everything but directions. And now he looked incompetant in front of a class of younglings. One, a rather hideous Gammorean girl, poked her slimy tongue out at the young Jedi. He quickly swallowed the bile rushing up his throat.
"Master Vos? Oh, he's been asking around for you for the past four hour-"
'Four hours? Great, i'm late and i'll have missed half a day of training. That's the last thing I need.-'
"Sorry, what was that?"
"He's down the hall, third door on the left, son."
Reron wordlessly bowed to the old teacher, his creased and weathered smile showing patience; his eyes showing annoyance. The young boy raced off as quickly as possible.
Thirty seconds later, a young Jedi Padawan, his long hair unkempt and without the traditional padawan's braid, his robes several sizes too big, and holding one of his boots which had fallen off as he was running, entered the room, panting heavily. For a short sprint, he was way too tired. 'That's what I get for spending hours in the archives...', the young Jedi thought. He wasn't very good at introductions, or really saying the right thing, so he sat there, regaining his breath in the doorway. He didn't even notice his heavy panting had disrupted his Master's meditation.
'How in the world does anyone find anything in this place? This is why I stick to the archives...'
Reron Andross, the pupil of which the Council had so many high hopes...was lost. And this wasn't the first time, either. When one is late for a Council meeting, and their excuse is, 'I got lost' after a lifetime on the Jedi secret training facility, people begin talking.
It was his padawan acceptance all over again...
"Sorry again, do you know where I could find...er...Master..."
He quickly glanced down at his datapad. It had the room number, the Master's name, everything but directions. And now he looked incompetant in front of a class of younglings. One, a rather hideous Gammorean girl, poked her slimy tongue out at the young Jedi. He quickly swallowed the bile rushing up his throat.
"Master Vos? Oh, he's been asking around for you for the past four hour-"
'Four hours? Great, i'm late and i'll have missed half a day of training. That's the last thing I need.-'
"Sorry, what was that?"
"He's down the hall, third door on the left, son."
Reron wordlessly bowed to the old teacher, his creased and weathered smile showing patience; his eyes showing annoyance. The young boy raced off as quickly as possible.
Thirty seconds later, a young Jedi Padawan, his long hair unkempt and without the traditional padawan's braid, his robes several sizes too big, and holding one of his boots which had fallen off as he was running, entered the room, panting heavily. For a short sprint, he was way too tired. 'That's what I get for spending hours in the archives...', the young Jedi thought. He wasn't very good at introductions, or really saying the right thing, so he sat there, regaining his breath in the doorway. He didn't even notice his heavy panting had disrupted his Master's meditation.
.:.Although his padawan was four hours late, the master did not notice. Time seemed to stand still in the trance that Mhenlan Vos was enveloped within. It was a light trance, if one could admit one; the master wanted to know when his padawan showed. Even though the padawan was four hours late, Mhenlan was simply glad that his apprentice showed up. Now, he decided to begin the test of patience. He knew that his padawan would already be tired, and he wanted to see the patience and control Reron Andross was capable of.:.
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For what seemed an age, Reron sat in the doorway, regaining his breath, basically staring at his Master, taking in the whole deal of a Jedi Council Master as his own Master. And he knew that meant one thing. Reron's own progress was going to be watched very closely by the Council. Like he needed additional pressure anyway. His mind went back to his childhood, to the pressures his family put on him.
'Our son Reron, the next great Jedi of the esteemed Andross name!'
'Come on, Reron, show them your talent! Lift the block, go on!'
'Yes, Reron, lift the block, show us how much you love us!'
'Come on Reron'
'Do it...why...'
'Give him some time, he will do it...Come on, Reron...'
'He's not doing it? Why not?'
'I...I don't know...now, dear...don't cry, it's alright...It's not your fault...'
'He's a failure! We're a failure!'
'Oh, now, dear...calm down...Maid, please take Reron away...we need some time alone...'
He shook the thoughts off. Thoughts of failure, time and time again...a latent talent, blocked by...something...
'Our son Reron, the next great Jedi of the esteemed Andross name!'
'Come on, Reron, show them your talent! Lift the block, go on!'
'Yes, Reron, lift the block, show us how much you love us!'
'Come on Reron'
'Do it...why...'
'Give him some time, he will do it...Come on, Reron...'
'He's not doing it? Why not?'
'I...I don't know...now, dear...don't cry, it's alright...It's not your fault...'
'He's a failure! We're a failure!'
'Oh, now, dear...calm down...Maid, please take Reron away...we need some time alone...'
He shook the thoughts off. Thoughts of failure, time and time again...a latent talent, blocked by...something...