Silver Jedi Master
Three Days After the Destruction of the Silver Rest
The journey on the medical freighter was an uncomfortable one for Tycho Ordona. Not due to the lack of space in the guest cabin, for he had spent many a night on the floor of a century-old passenger liner sleeping shoulder to should to a hundred souls. No, it was the total lack of news coming out of Kashyyyk and the Silver Rest. Though understandably so, he thought, it would be detrimental to publicize the extent of the damage to the their enemies, and the Order would be far too occupied to answer his questions considering what had just happened.
Tycho closed his eyes and sat cross-legged on the floor of his cabin, attempting to meditate. His mind was wracked with disruption, and with the ever-growing sense of fear. It had felt like weeks when he had felt it. It tore through him. As if his heart was being torn in two by the force. It would not have helped to visit the grave of his former master and meditate on the spot where he had died those 200 years ago. His connection to the force was stronger than it normally was and he could feel the collective anguish of his people. He could feel the tremendous loss of life. Not of just one individual but of a multitude of souls. It didn't take long to sense Matsu. Even thousands of lightyears away he could sense her message of pain, of anguish but also of assurance and confidence: 'Remember us'.
At once he abandoned his pilgrimage and made the long journey back home to Silver Rest, Kashyyyk. He had left his personal ship back at the Silver Rest, as he preferred to travel light amongst the poor and the lowly. Being packed shoulder to shoulder in rickety rusting cans always brought a sense of perspective to his life that can often be forgotten having the resources of the Jedi Order at your disposal. He found a ride with a freighter loaded with medical supplies bound for Kashyyyk.
The captain's voice crackled through the ship's speaker. Tycho didn't need the captain's announcement to know that they had arrived. Through the force, he could sense the collective grief radiating off the planet. Both Wookiee, human, Jedi, and non-force sensitive alike mourned in their souls. He made his way to the main doors; pulling the hood of his simple robes over his head. As the doors slowly lowered, he wanted to look away. He could still hear his old Master's voice berate him even now; telling him how he allowed his emotions get the best of him. He now wished he could have seen images of the destruction beforehand, rather than letting the onlookers see the Jedi Master cry.
The loading ramp touched down onto the Kashyyyk soil and the old Master cried.
The journey on the medical freighter was an uncomfortable one for Tycho Ordona. Not due to the lack of space in the guest cabin, for he had spent many a night on the floor of a century-old passenger liner sleeping shoulder to should to a hundred souls. No, it was the total lack of news coming out of Kashyyyk and the Silver Rest. Though understandably so, he thought, it would be detrimental to publicize the extent of the damage to the their enemies, and the Order would be far too occupied to answer his questions considering what had just happened.
Tycho closed his eyes and sat cross-legged on the floor of his cabin, attempting to meditate. His mind was wracked with disruption, and with the ever-growing sense of fear. It had felt like weeks when he had felt it. It tore through him. As if his heart was being torn in two by the force. It would not have helped to visit the grave of his former master and meditate on the spot where he had died those 200 years ago. His connection to the force was stronger than it normally was and he could feel the collective anguish of his people. He could feel the tremendous loss of life. Not of just one individual but of a multitude of souls. It didn't take long to sense Matsu. Even thousands of lightyears away he could sense her message of pain, of anguish but also of assurance and confidence: 'Remember us'.
At once he abandoned his pilgrimage and made the long journey back home to Silver Rest, Kashyyyk. He had left his personal ship back at the Silver Rest, as he preferred to travel light amongst the poor and the lowly. Being packed shoulder to shoulder in rickety rusting cans always brought a sense of perspective to his life that can often be forgotten having the resources of the Jedi Order at your disposal. He found a ride with a freighter loaded with medical supplies bound for Kashyyyk.
The captain's voice crackled through the ship's speaker. Tycho didn't need the captain's announcement to know that they had arrived. Through the force, he could sense the collective grief radiating off the planet. Both Wookiee, human, Jedi, and non-force sensitive alike mourned in their souls. He made his way to the main doors; pulling the hood of his simple robes over his head. As the doors slowly lowered, he wanted to look away. He could still hear his old Master's voice berate him even now; telling him how he allowed his emotions get the best of him. He now wished he could have seen images of the destruction beforehand, rather than letting the onlookers see the Jedi Master cry.
The loading ramp touched down onto the Kashyyyk soil and the old Master cried.
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