The Force offered no easy answers. It sought balance, it breathed life into the galaxy, it tied them all together, but the path was rarely clear. There was no road map…no bright flashing lights. The Force set you on your path with little guidance along the way. Some believed in destiny. They believed all would be set right by the strength of the Light. They believed if you looked hard enough you would see your path extending forward. The Force would always find balance in the Light. How could they ever hope to explain the pain wrecked upon the Jedi…over and over again. The Force's warriors of Light ripped asunder across generations.
It was happening again.
The Force offered no answers.
Jedi Master Alexandria Thayless Voran stood motionless, her heart broken. Her mind tried to make sense of anything. He had promised her it would be okay…he had promised her they would take these steps together. Terrified and alone, her mind broken by the Curse, Max had sworn he would walk the path beside her. That she would never be alone. Alex had trusted him, believed in him, and took that first frightening step. Now she stood on that path utterly isolated.
She had felt the moment Max was taken, her soul wrenched apart as their connection splintered. Her knees had given out as sobs wracked her body. Waves of unrelenting despair had shaken her core. They poured forth from her mind, unchained, as she grieved. It was only through sheer force of will Alex managed to close her mental walls. She locked away the pain to grieve in silence. And she did grieve. Her body ached and her heart bled. She was not alone in her suffering. The Order wept with the loss of Max.
The Order wept over all they had lost on Denon.
Despair gave way to crippling guilt. She should have been there. She should have been with him. Instead, Padawan’s faced off against Sith Lords, and Max died alone. Her heart broke all over again. She failed him…she let him fall without her. A part of her knew she needed to carry on. A part of her knew the Order needed strength more than ever. Maiko needed her, but it was impossible to imagine a galaxy where she would never feel Max’s metallic fingers on her cheek ever again.
Her eyes tilted skyward. He would not have wanted this. He would not have wanted her to retreat, to give up, to fight alone. He would have wanted her to embrace the Order…embrace who she was. He would have wanted her to fight. He would not have wanted all this drama. No body had been recovered or returned. The Order needed to mourn and so they would mourn. Then they would fight.
Today was the funeral of Master Talak Rand and Councilor Maxims Tionson, the man who had pulled her back into the Order, the man who shepherded the Order forward, and the man a part of her loved. Talak had been an imperfect man. An imperfect Jedi, but he had poured his soul into the Order. He had banished his own personal demons for the sake of his fellow Jedi. His heart beat with bravery that flowed through the Order. There was no replacing Talak Rand. There was no hole to be filled. You could only hope to match the fervor of his spirit with your own.
She would join her fellow Jedi and she would not hide from her pain. There were few Masters left, and fewer Councilors. The Order tilted younger and more inexperienced. She would honor the fallen by facing her responsibilities head on. She would become what Max saw in her. It was right to grieve. It was right to hurt. They faced the struggle together.
So it was, Jedi Master Alexandria Voran lowered her mental walls and let her pain breath. She would not hide her bone deep sadness, but the Order would feel her resolve, they would feel her conviction. Max and Talak were gone but everything they fought for would live on.
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