J E D H A
He awoke in a sweat, something he had not done in quite some time.
He swore he heard thunder, saw lightning. Perhaps he did- heat storms were possible. But not this time of year, it was still too cool at night.
No, something else beckoned him awake. He slowly lowered his feet to the floor, not losing his agility with age. Now a man of 40, he wasn't as spry as he once was. Years as a Jedi and a Supercommando did take their toll on someone eventually, but for Tracyn, it was a matter of balancing what he wanted to do and what he could do at his age, without the aid of the force. Hair unkempt and beard long overgrown, Tracyn looked half the man he used to be, with twice the hair.
He walked across his small home, bypassing the meditation area and going straight for the fridge-
Another bottle to go.
He hadn't touched the meditation pad in years. Never had a reason to anymore. He originally came to Jedha to connect with the old Jedi, to try and find some solace after his wife and his son were ripped from him. After a while, peace didn't come, and neither did any answers or insights from the long-dead Jedi, or the tombs and temples located beneath the sands. The only thing that Jedha had plentiful of, besides the fine wind-swept sand, was of course-
Booze from offworld.
Those were his days now, simple work as a mechanic when the sun was up, and simple work as a broken man when the sun went down. The sun went down, and the bottle went up. It was a simple, painful life. The lightsaber, his robes, his armor gathered dust. The light of the fridge went away as he shut it, holding the clear bottle of foul brown liquor in his hands, once more, once again.
His eyes, blue as clear ocean water, danced over to the meditation pad.
Thunder again.
He put down the bottle, falling to his knees, just as his Masters had taught him. Cazer Kresh was a good teacher. He felt shame, remembering him in the state he was in. Shame, guilt. Things a Jedi shouldn't feel.
But was he really a Jedi, anymore?
He closed his eyes, trying to search through the force. Something was telling him to be here, meditating, right now.
He reached out into the force, trying to dip his toes into the current, as Cazer would say. He imagined the force as a river- gently moving, but never ceasing. Jedi were able to put their feet in the water and swim in it, but they could not move the river. He pictured himself, a bright sunny beach, as he always did. The gentle waves, the bright sun. A beautiful sight. He smiled for the first time in a while. He knew it was a projection of his own mind, that none of it was real.
But that didn't mean it didn't feel good at the least.
Digging his feet into the sand, he eventually sat down, watching the horizon and the waves crash on the sand.
A sound came behind him.
The sounds of combat. Fire. Blaster fire. Blades crashing together.
And here he was, on his little beach, away from it all. While all the suffering was behind him, but still very much so-
There. There and real.
He understood in a moment what someone, or something was trying to tell him. He was not doing anyone, or himself, any good by sitting here feeling sorry for himself. He did not find anything in the past few years on Jedha because he was not searching the right places. He was combing the temples and tomes, but should have been looking at himself, not the musings of bygone and long-dead Jedi.
Tracyn slowly rose from the floor, crossing his legs. He felt the force again. Felt it course through him, invigorating him. He drew deep from the well, his fists clenched as he reconnected with the force truly for the first time in years. He hadn't cut himself off, but in fact had simply stopped listening to it, so to speak.
He listened, as it called him. There was a great tragedy on the horizon. Life unending, beautiful as it was, the very essence of the Jedi was threatened. A single image formed in his mind, from the collective worry and conscience of hundreds of Jedi-
Tython.
That's where he needed to go, where the Force wanted him to go.
He lowered himself, palms on the floor. He breathed deeply, more aware of where he was and who he was than he had been in years. He rose to his feet, and went to the Refresher, cleaning himself of the grime. He shaved and cut his hair for the first time in months, looking at himself in the mirror.
He looked more like himself after a few bits of cleaning.
He walked over to his bed, flipping the mattress and dragging from underneath, a long plasteel container. He opened it, and looked inside.
Among the enclosed things were many items a Jedi typically had, and many more that a Guardian would wield and wear. But his hands, his eyes, and his soul-
Went first to grab his lightsaber. And in the darkness of his sand-swept and decaying home, he activated it, just to be sure. The blue hue raced across the room.
And for the first time in several years,
Tracyn smiled.
