All Roads

[Thal Mantis]

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Oh he forgot how peaceful it was.​

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The tranquility.​

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The stillness of the air. Like nothing else mattered, like nothing else was going on in the galaxy.​

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But there was, wasn't there? ​

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There was always something. ​

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Someone. ​

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And of all the things, now, it was him. ​

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He had done what he wanted to do.

The Red Tower was burning, bleeding. The arena lay in shambles, all those who wronged him, dead, fleeing, or forever ruined by his slaughter, his rampage. His wrath. He had set out to do it, years, dreamed of it. A lifetime spent dreaming of something, and he achieved it. The thing he wanted most, he had.

He watched it burn, he waded in their bodies, he watched them all flee in terror.

So as he sat on the steps of an older Silver Jedi temple-

Why did he feel so empty? He was wounded still, having snuck aboard a transport ship, bound back for Silver Jedi space. A lie here, a faked accent there, and he was back near Silver Rest. But he didn't dare go near it. He didn't want to face the disappointment. It was only after his rampage, his bloodlust subsided- that it dawned on him that maybe they were right, that revenge wasn't the Jedi way.

But was he really even a Jedi?

His entire stay at Silver Rest, he had felt like an outsider, a guest. A thing to be perceived, studied upon, observed. But never welcomed within the fold, never one to declare himself a Jedi. A student of their ways, but-

A Jedi did not slaughter dozens of criminals and slavers for revenge.

He ran his hands over his face, looking outwards. In the distance, laid Silver Rest. Giving himself enough time, he supposed he could muster the strength to venture back to the temple. But for now- Thal, the prodigal man, lay in shame, unable to bear to bring himself close to the place that welcomed him. He had brought them shame, brought himself guilt. How would he right this wrong? The dark side was so tempting, so easy. He found himself drawn to it, like moths to a flame- perhaps it was always there. It gave him power, raw, unfiltered power.

He ran his hands through his hair, over his braids. Corrupt as he was, he was more conflicted- unsure of what to do, or where to go, or who to talk to next. For the moment, however, he was content to spend a while in the old temple, overgrown only slightly. Hopefully he was not accosted by Wookies or worse-

He didn't want anymore violence for a while.

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[Audren Sykes]

"If you're heading that direction, I recommend you head south for a klick or two when you hit the river. Bridge is a lot simpler to cross."

It was relatively rare for Audren on Kashyyyk. Not that he had better things to do than be involved with the Silver Jedi, just that he had other things to do. He'd rather join in on important actions whenever possible; working with his companies otherwise took up most of his time. That wasn't to call the work they performed at Silver Rest unimportant, but one had to prioritize.

When he was on the planet however, he enjoyed the environment. This was most often accomplished by a run of several kilometers and in so doing he got to know the surrounding area fairly well. This old temple was known to him, and while it was rarely used he did stop by whenever in the area. It was still standing after all, so sometimes there were people stationed there for one reason or another. This time he'd happened across what appeared to be a younger human who sat on the steps of the Temple looking at the distant Silver Rest.

The Sephi was no psychic, not a mentalist capable of pulling thoughts from one's mind. Even without the Force it didn't take much to see that the man was deep in thought about something though. And given he'd chosen the direction of the Rest from all the directions it was possible that it had to do with that location. There actually was a river in the way though, and crossing was difficult. Hence the bridge.

There was plenty of room on the stairs, so he sat down facing the same direction and took a drink of water. There was plenty of space between the two of them, no reason to feel crowded. He'd sit for a moment and rest, but if no conversation was forthcoming would be along his way. There was sometimes a value in being alone, not having to deal with others. Either choice would be respected.

[member=Thal]​

 

[Thal Mantis]

Truthfully, Thal did not expect anyone to come.

But, the galaxy had a certain way of surprising, of putting someone where they needed to be. Often, where they wanted to be, too. Thal looked over to him. He'd seen him, around- not a lot. Thal hadn't himself spent a lot of time at Silver Rest.

He reached down to his chest, touching the lightly burned skin where the blaster had barely missed him during his attack on the Red Tower. A close call, among many. His body was like that- a litany of scars, close calls. But there was a reason they called him Deathless there. They made him there, and they reaped what they sowed.

They were all dead. Corak, the slavers, the Arena in ruins. Countless of the Point Nadir security, patrons, and slavers dead. The dream he had wanted, the goal he had since childhood, fulfilled. His revenge finalized, his vengeance, his wrath incurred. And now here he was-

A failure.

"I do not think they would want me to cross that bridge."

Would they? In all cases, Thal had committed a litany of murders. Granted- they were, to some of the galaxy, justified. But still, he had killed them. Killed them all. He looked down at the ground, before half-turning his head to the Jedi.

"Have you ever...gotten everything you wanted?"

[member="Audren Sykes"]

 

[Audren Sykes]

"I do not think they would want me to cross that bridge."

Audren almost snorted at that. He wondered if the other knew how many crossed that bridge that the Order wouldn't approve of. Those that crossed peacefully were welcomed, their matters listened to and addressed as existing priorities allowed. Those crossing violently were stopped. While the young man looked capable of violence, he didn't seem to be in a violent mood at the moment. Nor, the Sephi judged, would the snort be welcomed in his current state of mind. Even some criminals dared approach; some sought sanctuary, others absolution. Whatever the case, they were listened to and treated as fairly as the Assembly or their representative could decide.

Or so he assumed. In his time on the Assembly he'd participated in very few criminal situations. Others dealt with them more...one that came to mind was the Base Zero Delta ordered by a ship captain that had incurred significant civilian casualties. That particular situation had garnered galaxy-wide media coverage, mostly twisted by the Sith to suit their own ends.

"Have you ever...gotten everything you wanted?"

That was certainly an odd question given the man's general demeanor. Most people who got what they'd wanted were ecstatic...and this mood wasn't. It could be assumed that he'd spent a significant time and effort aiming for one specific goal and had achieved it, only to find the results weren't as expected. That tended to happen with romance, or so he'd heard. No way to tell if that was the situation here, though if it was he'd be among the most unqualified to help. Though he supposed if there was nothing more to look forward to that could be a cause of melancholy.

"Can't say I have. Once I get through one goal there's always something more. Though if you'll forgive me for saying, most who accomplish their goals celebrate with friends or colleagues."

The Jedi didn't even need to lie with this one. He'd been able to accomplish quite a lot in his life thus far. His parents claimed that it came from living among the short-lived: those who lived a mere century were quicker to to react and more likely to take risks. Learning the Force had only prompted him to keep learning, forming his first company started a slow push for expansion that had yet to be satisfied. Each milestone had been cause for celebration though.

[member=Thal]​

 

[Thal Mantis]

"I have nothing to celebrate."

It was true. All he had was corpses. Lives taken. What was gained? What was gained by his revenge? Retribution? Vengeance? Only now did he realize how petty that was, how asinine it became once he had it.

He turned to look at the older Jedi, wincing in slight pain. The blaster, where it found it's mark, still hurt to move around too much. He winced again, adjusting his position. He looked down at his hands, remembering when they were coated in the blood of those who had wronged him not even a few days prior.

He clinched them into fists, looking over at the light-haired Jedi. He didn't want to avoid the topic any longer, and a stranger- well that was the perfect person to divulge it all to.

"I went back, to Point Nadir. To the Red Tower. Where they kept me, where they made me fight for them. And I killed them. I killed them all." Thal wasn't sure how many men he killed, how many he slaughtered. He turned his head to the other Jedi.

"They beat me, they enslaved me. They made me fight for them. Kill, fight, every night. For years. And I killed them. I got what I wanted for so long. I dreamed about it, you see- I saw a sea of blood, and me wading through it. Their blood. And now that I have it-" Pale blue eyes, empty aside from a pleading, deep desire to be good and whole, something he had never gotten, and from birth- perhaps cursed to never have- stared at the Jedi.

"I feel empty."

[member="Audren Sykes"]