A Word...

[Placeholder 04]

A Padawan Cyril barely knew. That was what the Order had sent him. He was not ungrateful, just surprised. He'd expected a Knight to serve alongside him, perhaps even one of his fellow masters. Not a young girl. Still, that did not mean she was useless. Everyone could bring about change if they put their minds to it, and Cyril could help this girl progress as a Jedi so long as she was near.

What worried him was the conflict he had sensed within her. She had the fury of his sister, a girl he had sent away for her temper. The flames of malice could never burn within a Jedi, even if that particular Jedi was your baby sister. Ceska would receive a strenuous examination as Felicity had.

He awaited far from town. Lightsabers were dangerous to openly display in Kinthar after all. Here, in the abandoned alcove of a Collocoid nest, he could evaluate the Padawan in peace. The local Collocoids were allies to the resistance, and did not so much as give the Jedi Master an odd look when he'd asked for use of their old home.

It was slightly underground, carved into the base of an ancient mountain. His speeder awaited outside, and he himself kneeled in the center of the hive, connecting himself to the living force. Balmorra was a part of him; he was the planet, and it was him. He would surely sense the moment [member="Ceska Starshield"] entered the hive.

 

[huggin_munnin]

Ceska had made her to the outskirts of Kinthar just after dusk, giving an impression of just another being headed home after her shift. Gradually as she got closer to the Collocoid dwelling, the crowd and thinned out to just the occasional being. Her brisk stride, upturned collar and the shadows served to hide her face where there was no crowd. Up ahead, she could see a nondescript speeder parked outside an old building. Her Force sense confirmed this was the right place.

She was certain that he knew she was there, but she stopped just outside the door for several seconds before opening it. She stepped through and closed the door behind her. On the floor and kneeling in meditation was Cyril Grayson. Feeling the warmth of the Living Force around him, the Padawan could also see the glowing nimbis of energy visible to a trained adept. She had been taught that interrupting another's meditations was rude unless it was under some dire need and thus she waited.


[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

The approach of the Padawan was not done unseen. He felt her coming a few moments before she parted the archaic doorway leading to the heart of the hive. She was not afraid, nor was she seemingly intimidated.

Good.

"Welcome to the hive." He greeted, offering a small smile as he pushed up to his feet. He was a tall man, standing a little over two meters, and the leather jacket he wore only served to make him look like even less of a Jedi.

Well, if you didn't account the lightsaber at his belt.

"So, why are you here on Balmorra?" He asked somewhat cryptically, sidling up closer to the Padawan so that they may talk.

[member="Ceska Starshield"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

The Padawan watched him stand with a neutral expression, nodding in acknowledgement to his welcome. She studied the big man, glancing at the lightsaber hilt hooked on his belt. Her own remained up the sleeve of her own and could be in her hand before a being might finish blinking it's eyes. She wondered why he was wearing the signature Jedi weapon so openly, even here.

As he moved a bit closer to talk, she had to tilt her head up a bit but her eyes never left his. It wasn't defiance or a challenge but simply the fact that Ceska Starshield didn't allow herself to be afraid of other beings. It had been something she'd been taught by her former mentor, to not let size or appearance intimidate. The Force made all beings equal in size.

"I'm here to kill Sith," came her reply. Simple and direct, she saw no point in dressing up the answer with some Republic jingoism. She'd heard such out of some of the Rebels on her journey here. It was secondary to her, in this case, 'saving' the Republic. It did happen to coincide with her reason, fortunately.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Cyril was a stone wall. If he felt anything, or had any sort of reaction to her words, he did not show it. Instead, he offered the girl a slight smile, and lofted a brow.

"Why?" He asked simply, leaning partly forward in sincere interest. He searched her expression, blue eyes tearing past her flesh and bone, seemingly staring into the pit of her very soul.

His presence in the force reflected his facial neutrality. He was an island in a calm sea, firm and unshakeable. That was the way he perceived himself, anyway.

[member="Ceska Starshield"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

Ceska blinked and her face fell into a puzzled frown.

"Why?'" she began "Isn't it obvious, they need to be completely destroyed. They're an abomination in which the Force itself cries out against!"

She felt the familiar heat of her anger in her stomach and she had to ruthlessly suppress it before it grew into an inferno. She took in a calming breath before continuing.

"Isn't that why you're here, to stop them," it was not really a question "The longer we let them continue to exist, the more everything suffers."

The other Jedi simply stood, listening. He was calm, the surface of a pond undisturbed. In that, he was much like her former Master, she realized. A Jedi Master, unperturbed by anything and never showing the slightest negative emotion towards her un-Jedi outburts.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"We are here to dip them. We aren't here to exterminate them."

He took a step back, and slipped his hands into his coat. His thoughts took hold of him, memories and daydreams all in one. At one point, Cyril would have agreed with her assumption. He had broken away from the Order with a number of disgruntled Knights, and led a fleet against the Sith. They won many battles, more than the Republic had beforehand, but at a much greater cost. In the end, it cost them everything.

"When I was younger, near the beginning of the war, I was hot headed. The Grandmaster and I did not see eye to eye, and the Council disapproved of my older take on the force." He explained. "So I left. I took a few dozen Jedi Knights with me, tamed the armies of the Graug, found volunteers from the outer rim, and began the Ession Reformation. It was meant to be a weapon against the Sith. Instead it burned us all."

He drew in a deep breath, and began to pace. Little half-steps in either direction, ending with him turning on his heel every few paces in endless repetition.

"We kill if we have to. If your only desire is to kill, then you're better off as a soldier than a Jedi."

[member="Ceska Starshield"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

She listened to Cyril's words and simply watched him. The feelings of regret and pain were buried deep, but they were there in him. It sobered her, these emotions from the ever-calm Master. Minutes passed before she finally replied.

"I don't like killing. I have to do it, otherwise, they will kill everyone or worse."

Her voice was quiet and she looked inward, feeling sadness and regret, like she had failed her Master and the Order during her dalliance among the darkness. She'd let her emotions control her, her grief and rage. The Sith would do that to everyone, twisting them into something that was unrecognizable. Ceska looked up at him and spoke again.

"I don't care if I die. I want to die in the Light a million times before I live a second in the Dark again."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Cyril clapped a firm hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Then understand that our goal isn't to kill them. It's to save them. We only kill when they force us to. Taking a life is a terrible thing, never do it lightly."

He lectured. He was not usually the type for that sort of thing - long lessons and whatnot. It was only that her anger concerned him. She might lose control one day, and then where would she be? Alone, perhaps, broken at the feet of a Sith Lord, destined to become his pawn, or something far worse.

Cyril had seen far too many young Padawans carried off by Sith Warriors to breed them heirs.

"I want you to practice form three, Soresu. When you've made some progress, let me know. Just because you're off saving the galaxy doesn't mean you get a day off." He teased, offering a kind smile. "And think on what I've told you. It's what my Master taught me - a life is a terrible thing to lose, no matter how vile it might be."

[member="Ceska Starshield"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

Nodding slowly, Ceska replied with a sigh "I guess it is at that."

She glanced at the hand on her shoulder, like her Master had done to reassure her many times and she blinked. She was filled with memories both happy and sad as she reminisced. Ceska was surprised that she had to blink badk tears. She laughed.

"Soresu?'" she said "You will have to show me. I don't know much more than the very basics."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Cyril said nothing, but he recognized the sentiment. His words were not particularly moving - just something to think about. She was remembering something, though what it was remained a secret. The errant Jedi Master didn't plan on pressing it.

"Sure, there are some basic movements." He pulled back, and slipped his lightsaber into his hand.

The familiar weight of the weapon served to set him at ease. He breathed a quiet sigh, and ignited the blade. Its cyan glow reflected ghostly lines along the walls of the hive, and its low hum filled the chamber.

"The key is to keep the blade tight. Hold it close to your body, move as little as possible, and expel as little energy as you can in the process." He explained, drawing the weapon close too his chest.

He twisted it left, then right, then quickly span it around across his back.

"It's all basic movements. You really need to rely on the force to guide your blade. It's an especially useful technique against ranged opponents - you can bounce blaster bolts back at them."

[member="Ceska Starshield"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

Ceska watched each movement carefully with rapt attention. The lightsaber had always been her forte, having devoted more hours than she could remember to sparring, training with a remote and moving through patterns. It didn't matter to her, she just loved the feeling of moving with the hum of the saber. She could lose herself in those times and she felt one with the Force.

When Cyril had finished the velocity and stepped back, Ceska slid her weapon into her hand. With a snap-hiss, her own cyan blade came to life and she began to work through the prearranged pattern. Her movements were deliberately slower, making certain she imitated Cyril as exactly as she could. It felt good to do this, to stop thinking and merely act....

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

His lips pressed into a thin smile. The force flowed through the girl with little issue. She might be a bit less than idealistic - headstrong and perhaps dangerous, but she had potential. She matched his form well enough, not perfectly, but that was to be expected for a first try. Given time, she might very well surpass him. That was, of course, a prospect for the future, and Ceska was not his Padawan.

Perhaps he might consider taking her on.

Perhaps.

"That's a start. Just try not to trip." He snickered, folding his arms over his chest. Practice that form. When we return from our mission, I'll run you through it again."

[member="Ceska Starshield"]

 

[huggin_munnin]

Thumbing off the lightsaber, it hissed out of existence and she returned her focus to the other Jedi. She grinned at his words.

"Trip?," she laughed "Not going to happen in this lifetime."

Perhaps that was a bit arrogant sounding but she wasn't, just stating facts. It wasn't bragging if you could do it as the saying went.

"Okay, I will keep working on. After the mission."

She had every intention of making it out alive and successful. Ceska slide the hilt badk up her sleeve and walked to the door. Before she left, she turned to Cyril and spoke.

"See you at the tapcaf."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]