16 Plans Of Peace & Chaos

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~~~(POV: Adren Saydra)~~~

~~~(Location: Light Freighter, Hyperspace, Hydian Way Hyperroute)~~~

~~~(Current Age: 17 Years)~~~

~~~(Date: 568 BBY)~~~

A breath of cold air enters me from the chilled training room. My eyes are closed as I slowly and methodically practice the vectors of saber combat. Ingraining the movements in my very muscles. Lessons I've learned over the years have piled up.

The holographic gaze of Darth Traya falls on me. Sensing that she's watching my movements and taking note of my progress. The very memory of her has left an imprint in the Darkside strong enough to feel even now.

An all-familiar purple blade spins in elegance and precision when my eyes open. The Zophis crystal inside the hilt gives off its unique hiss.

"Out of all the force sensitives I've taught in my time of life and death, you're the quickest to learn. Revan was the same. You remind me much of him, along with the failures suffered."

Ever leveled voice. Always calm and serene. It's been unreadable to me. She does this from time to time. Comparing the students of the past and me... It would be considered an honor to others.

It means nothing to me.

Revan. Meetra. Nihilus. Sion.

Great names among the Jedi and Sith. Heros to their respective Orders. One long extinct and the other trapped within the bloated and stagnant center of the Republic.

"If you don't have something to teach me, return to your Holocron."

The voice that responds to hers is deeper but not overly so. Influential and tall in its place. It's never affected her as it has others.

My gaze shifts to hers as I halt my training. Looking directly at her with a neutral face. The same neutral line on her lips.

"Do you know the downfall of every great Sith?"

A lesson from one of my earliest days under her tutelage. Traya has taught me much of her time as a Sith Master. A Jedi one as well. It'd be idiotic to think she's taught me everything. I know she never will.

I didn't have an answer when she asked me the first time shortly after our meeting. She told me she'd ask me again when she believed I was ready.

Always the vague one. Not that I cared. Ultimately, I always got the answers to any questions, either alone or through her.

"Themselves."

A tiny smile forms on Traya, one I've rarely ever seen. Only showing it when my suffering, failures, or pride amuse her.

It's never been anything except those. I have no reason to think differently now. Every Sith that's lived has always been responsible for his own destruction. I'm not Sith. I'm not Jedi. I use The Force as a Darksider but won't fight for a dead Order.

The time of the Sith has passed.

"Ahh... Adren... You're as wrong as you are right. One day, you'll see The Force for what it is. And hate it as I do."

Out of the neutral voice she always has comes a tone I've never heard from her. One mixed with disappointment, regret, and pity.

My saber hilt is back on my belt as I walk to the Holocron. Tapping on the pyramid's tip with The Force, causing it to close. Spending time with Traya isn't something I do anymore. She finds ways to interrupt me, but what she is now will never stand up to me.

The Holocron lifts from the table and hovers over to the shelf. Resting in its place in the training room.

A warning beep fills the room from the intercom. My journey through hyperspace is ending. Three days ago, the Senate had a meltdown. Chaos spread as fists and fights among Senators broke out.

I leave the training room and follow the same hallway I always do to the command deck. D4 is already at the astromech terminal.

BEEP. BEEP. BOOP. BEEP. BEEP.

His constant chatter about his fears do nothing to change my mind. Now that the Hutts are gone, I must focus on my true goal.

Star charts holding the location of the crash site for the Star Forge.

If I want to find Rakata Prime and Revan's Holocron, I need to break into the Jedi Temple where they're kept.

"Quit talking. All you need to do is keep the ship in one piece."

A flurry of noises comes from D4, but I easily ignore them. I tune out his objections and review the process of getting into the Jedi Temple. The first step isn't even near Coruscant, which is precisely why we're here.

Corellia.

There is a Jedi Master located on this planet with something I need before I take any further steps into breaking into the Temple.

The light of hyperspace ends and several hundreds of thousands of ships are coming and leaving the surface of Corellia. Having a high population due to its status in the Republic.

A familiar pit of hubris.

I take manual control of the ship and begin the descent to the surface of the decrepit planet. Those insensitive to The Force know not what a world transformed from its natural state feels like. Planets like Denon, Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa, and Corellia are twisted.

Though Corellia isn't nearly as deformed and damaged as the aforementioned planets. This planet still has oceans and forests, after all.

But I doubt it'll remain that way forever.

They're powerful in The Force, but the forced shifts in the environments and topography of the planets are similar to Sith Alchemy.

As we break the atmosphere, a beeping on the console takes my attention. It's a signal from one of the control towers for the main port. They have customs and port authority in the Core. A hindrance I like to avoid.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BOOP.

D4 makes it clear that ignoring them will lead to bigger problems. In response to his critique, I shut off the warning signal and continued my descent. Eventually, we landed in a port in Coronet City.

The capital of Corellia.

As the ship powers down, I sense trouble coming my way. You need authorization from the control towers if you want to land anywhere on Corellia; that's what I ignored earlier.

They insist on searching any ship that lands on Corellia for smuggled items. There are no Jedi with them; no reason to have any. D4 lowers the ramp so I can leave the ship, and I see the approaching squad of Corellian Port Security.

They're heavily armored and look like they mean business. I can appreciate a particular dedication to one's job, no matter how trivial it may be.

I stop my movement at the bottom of the ramp and give a motion with my hand that D4 can see. He closes the ship and brings the ramp back up. Not providing access to anyone. I can see the leader of the port security look at me.

Squinting his eyes as he does. His thoughts and feelings tell me he knows this will evolve into something more than a disagreement.

After a few seconds, the armed security squad stops before me. About 25 feet away from me. Getting a better look at the leader, I can see he's around a lieutenant rank. Perhaps higher.

Corellia has a different military and public ranking system than any planet I've been to yet. The lieutenant steps forward with a certain pomp and arrogance.

How Alderaanian like. You can expect the same arrogance and attitude from a Core planet. Especially a founding planet of the Republic.

"Well, well."

Great, a cliche. If I'm fighting people, I'd like a decent conversation first.

"I must say, you've got a nice ship here for a scumsucking smuggler. Staining The Jewel of Corellia with your presence won't be allowed on my watch."

These days, it always ends in a fight. Instead of saying anything, I hold out my right hand, and my saber hilt flies into it. That's when I sense a shift in the energy around the security forces, along with the group leader.

He tightens his collar as if meeting a superior and swallows a large chunk of saliva as I hear his gulp. A forced smile appears on his features, and he seems stressed.

"Is what I'd say to anyone that lands unauthorized who isn't a Jedi! Welcome to Corellia, Master Jedi."

What?

"Sorry for the inconvenience, we weren't informed of a Jedi's arrival, but it's not like the Order needs permission to land on any planet in the galaxy."

This is a first... He must think I'm a Jedi from the Order... This is my first time on a planet so close to Coruscant. Jedi must come and go from here often enough to avoid trouble from the Port Security.

That's very convenient for me. I won't have to carve a path into the city, and D4 won't have to leave with the ship.

"Rest assured; you won't have any trouble. Your ship will be secure in this private hangar. Now, forgive this minor inconvenience, Master Jedi."

He bows his head in a rushed manner as panic creeps into his eager voice. Seeing that I won't have to fight my way through, I simply wave my hand dismissively, and they let me pass. This must be the treatment Jedi receive daily.

In the Core, at least.

~~~(POV: Jedi Master Jerome Lymdor)~~~

~~~(Location: Treasure Ship Row, Blue Sector, Coronet (Capital City), Corellia)~~~

~~~(Current Age: 54 Years)~~~

~~~(Date: 568 BBY)~~~

My eyes stay locked on my apprentice as she negotiates for a Jedi artifact. Sadly, the Duros that has it in his possession knows exactly what he has. And is using that to gouge the price higher.

Normally, I'd take control of the negotiations, but padawan Vaeda needs to learn aspects of society that aren't taught at the Temple.

Throwing people's minds off balance with The Force is a neat trick, but there are species naturally immune to such tactics. The Duros species is one such people. I can see she's getting frustrated, and I would, too, if I were still her age.

I fold my arms and smile. It reminds me of when I was a padawan, and Master Garness would throw me to the wolves to teach me. He wasn't my teacher for long, but he was a good one. I'm glad Krayla was able to spend her entire time under him.

Old Garn took me in when my Master died in battle defending a colony against a mercenary attack. When my first Master died, I thought my time as a Jedi was over. But Garness changed that for me.

A terrible chill runs up my spine as I'm about to step forward and help my young padawan. I've never sensed such a power in the Darkside before. I slowly turn around, and the world around me slows down.

My vision locks on a hooded individual in the crowd walking toward me. His features are covered, but his armored robes prove something greater.

Listening to The Force, I rush to my padawan's side and grab her by the arm. Pulling her away from the Duros.

"Master!? What are yo-!!"

VRAAAAAAACCCCCHHHHHHHH!!!

"GRAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

The Duros behind us screams in agony, and the smell of burnt meat fills my nostrils. Carlina runs next to me now that she understands we're running from someone. This wouldn't be my reaction to danger under normal circumstances.

What happened to Master Hendi is still fresh in many people's minds, and he was one of the best duelists in the Order. Killed in saber combat by the Darksider.

That Darksider is right behind us. I know what I felt; we'll die if we fight him. Carlina's life is my responsibility, and she mustn't die. But I fear he's here for something I'm carrying with me.

Under orders of the Jedi High-Council.

"Keep running, Vaeda! We can't fight him alone!!"

We're rushing through street after street. After a minute of running, the crowd ahead is too thick to keep up the pace needed to save our lives. I pick up Carlina and leap through the air. Landing on a building.

I set her down a second later, and we continue running. I hear a loud thump and the bending of metal behind us. He's not letting up in the slightest.

If I'm forced to decide between our lives and the memory crystals, then I know what must be done.

~~~(POV: Jedi Knight Taylor Azure)~~~

~~~(Location: Meditation Chambers, Jedi Temple, Coruscant)~~~

~~~(Current Age: 17 Years)~~~

~~~(Date: 568 BBY)~~~

Air enters and leaves me over and again. Balancing and centering myself in The Force. The Force will guide me to the answers I seek; it never disappoints me. Mom has brought up the cause for such mediation.

When I became a Knight two days ago, she started a line of thought I never considered her having. She's been contemplating a major change for herself and me if I choose to join her.

Leaving the Jedi Order.

It's not something I ever considered, but Mom is greatly affected by all the changes occurring in the Senate and the Order. I don't know whether or not to leave with her. Or if she's actually committed to leaving.

All she said to me was to give leaving the Order some thought. What if I did want to leave... Mom and I will be leaving for Ryloth today, and I'm betting she's wanting an answer to her question by the time we get back.

In the meantime, I need to focus on helping the twi'leks. Their planet and people are constantly being exploited. More so now than ever before. Husbands are having their wives taken away from them.

Used and owned by other men.

Children are losing their parents. Daughters are being sold. Sons are being used as labor. Ryloth is in a crisis and needs the Jedi's help. Planets like Ryloth are the reason Mom wants to leave the Order.

The Republic isn't doing anything to help these people, and only after thousands of pleas are the Jedi lifting a finger.

"I don't know where this path will lead me... But I will follow..."

Something tells me that I need to go to Ryloth. For some reason, beyond helping the people that call it home. A breath enters my lungs for a final time before I stand up and reach the door. Leaving the meditation chamber behind me.

I go to the training grounds and see Ezark sparring with Master Izok again. This time Kight Darsana is with them. Tayda and Dysare have been a team for a long time, and it seems they're working on Ezark together.

My old friend is upset, and I seem to be the cause this time. I'm the youngest Jedi to be Knighted in the history of the Order. Beating Mom by just a little bit. Ezark was convinced he'd become a Knight before me.

But he's still a padawan.

The frustration and anger are clearly present in his swings. His movements and attacks overpower Master Izok. Tayda and Dysare decide to attack Ezark together, making it impossible for him to win.

They're trying to teach him through defeat. But I think they're being hard on him. He's the only one to survive against the Darksider. The loss of his Master haunts him.

"It's not fair when the two of you fight against me like that!! I can't win!!"

Ezark is far from being Knighted, and I don't know how much longer he'll want to stay in the Order. He wants to be out there hunting down the man that killed his Master.

The disappointment on Dysares face is evident, and Tayda just deactivates her saber and places it on her belt. She walks forward and stands in front of the beaten Ezark.

"How do you expect to beat the Darksider if you can't beat us? He defeated one of the greatest duelists in our Order. Master Hendi died fighting with all he had, and it wasn't enough."

I can't say if what they're taking in approach to teaching Ezark will work, but if that's the only option left. I don't see how it could fail. The changing face of Ezark seems to prove that he sees a point that needs to be made.

Master Hendi wasn't my favorite person and was always against the idea of my Mom teaching me the Jedi ways. But he was a fair man. A kind one too.

Ezark won't stop until the Darksider is dead, and I fear he'll fall to the Darkside in his ambition...