Private Barash

[Placeholder 0128]

The ambitions of empire were all consuming. No matter the intention, blood would always be the substance that greased the gears of progress, and broken corpses the foundations upon which that progress could be forged. It had always been Cedric's intent to prove this reality false: to show that benevolent rule could bring about great change without the requirement of oppression. For a moment, that dream had seemed attainable.

And then, as a building collapsed around him and the screams of his people being slaughtered thundered in his ears, it had shattered. The Essonian had stood upon the brink of death many times, but this one had seemed the most certain. He'd simply accepted it, registering only a brief sharp pain as the concrete crashed against his skull before being encompassed in utter nothingness.

Vague images and shadowed murmurings had followed. The scene would shift at the whims of some unseen god, plucking him from memories of childhood to the fields of war. It lacked the warm comfort of the Force, and so he knew he was not dead at the very least. There was no rhyme or reason to it, and Cedric had begun to reason within his half-conscious mind that his brain was working to piece itself back together.

Thought beyond that was something he could grasp for, but it was like trying to grab a flow of water. For brief moments he had it, and then it would slip from his fingers and return him to incoherence. Eventually he elected to give up, allowing his broken mind to transport him wherever it willed.

He saw mountains of fire, worlds set aflame, fleets that spanned the stars, and armies clashing across a thousand worlds for a thousand different reasons. Unsure as to whether these were visions gifted by the Force, or simple hallucinations of his failing mind, Cedric was forced to content himself with being a powerless passenger.

Until he wasn't.

When his eyes opened, he could only register the vague shape of the room and a blinding pale light. The beeps and whirrs of medical equipment registered in his ears as the light began to fade, revealing a small clinical room that could have only been in a hospital. Soft evening light poured in through the sole window as Cedric's eyes fluttered, his hands pulling meekly at the breathing tube that had been shoved down his throat. It finally popped away after a few seconds of fiddling, and Cedric wasted little time in taking a huge loud gulp of fresh air.

"Kark," he breathed, running a hand over his face. He was surprised to feel a few new narrow divets and canyons carved through his flesh - hopefully it didn't look too bad. With a loud grunt, the Essonian forced himself to sit up straight, the movement causing his head to throb with pain. Mumbling a string of curses, the Jedi Master rested his head in his hands, willing the pain to go away.

Ryv , Loske Treicolt , Dak

 

[Loske Treicolt]

S e v e r a l hours earlier...
Touch my mind
​

As much as the Force could predict the nature of life, credit was due to the medical monitors P Placeholder 0128 was plugged into. The rhythms on the charts did well to suggest an uptick in a patient's status, or in more tragic instances, the downturn.

The last time Loske and Frank had visited the comatose Jedi, it had been a forlorn occasion; difficult to distinguish who was more responsible for the breaths the Jedi was taking. The machine or the man. Unable to stick around much longer than a few hours at a time (and even that was to the staff's chagrin), Frank had interfaced with the central monitoring system and downloaded the connection to replicate an asynchronous database. The information on the Jedi Master's status would be replicated in almost real-time to his own circuits, which was partially useful until Loske had found a program to train him to understand what the different variables meant.

At first, the data was coming back in a disorganized lump. He'd had to sort it out to replicate the exact synthesis the nurse staff were seeing. Most of it was reports on physical damage. Frank had come to understand that he needed to narrow in on the magnetic pulses. It was those that made him light up, and turn to Loske -- who looked particularly alert.

"I feel it!" She exclaimed, unable to throttle her reaction to something that was less than optimistic.

Frank seemed irritated. If you can feel it, why'd I have to clutter up my database with this information. I thought I was the bearer of good news?

"You are! You're a reinforcement." Loske reassured him, balancing to shove her legs into her pants and hopping around on one foot in the bunker while scrambling to get dressed. "You're like the news news, my senses are only tabloid level."

Could you at least pretend to be surprised.

"You can tell me the statistics and likelihoods of this being accurate, and projected timelines to consciousness. I can't really tell that."

That seemed to appease the droid, and he began a monotonous read out of vitals and stats. It started with: Well, we definitely have ample time to get there...

---

Presently
​

By the time Cedric finally started making noises and interfering with the set up, Loske and Frank were on the verge of overstaying their welcome again. Curled in a chair in the corner, she was bleary eyed and jutted forward at the movements. At the same time, Frank let out a little indicative beep that sounded the same as the equipment when the oxygen tube was removed. Realizing the shared frequency was no longer necessary, Frank bashfully disconnected so as not to amplify additional klaxon noises while the patient protested the constraints from the inflicted stasis precautions.

"Oh my god." She murmured as a rushed slur before projecting forward, swiftly closing the distance from her corner to the bed the wan patient occupied. The swell of the connection restored was enough information for her to cast caution to the wind. With the oxygen tube out of the way, there weren't any other obstacles from her leaning against the side of the mattress and looping her arms happily around the shoulders of her mangled companion. Relief suffused her actions and every emotion she was presently overwhelmed with. Anything that wasn't pushed into the strength of her squeeze manifested as silent, hot, happy tears.

Frank remained near the empty chair Loske had been occupying, content to see the human expression of relief from a distance. He'd already interrupted more than one intimate scenario and was using caution not to reproduce their negative reactions.

 

[Ryv]

Months had come and gone since the accident that claimed his master's conscious state. The transition had been a hard one for many. It hit the kiffar pretty hard, given the position Cedric had unknowingly taken in Ryv's life. Without any guidance, he stumbled into some of the worst possible places, time and time again. If he had it his way, he'd of died on the floor of his apartment's kitchen nearly two years ago. In his worst moment, Cedric found Ryv and brought him back from the brink. Promising to train him if he cleaned up, the kiffar eventually met those standards and had been taken on as a Jedi Padawan once more. Training beneath Cedric couldn't be taken lightly, given his beliefs on the state of the galaxy and the force, but Ryv managed to fight his way through it all. The former-Imperator's disappearance left Ryv once more struggling to find a place among the stars.

The kiffar made a habit of visiting Cedric whenever he had the time. The responsibilities of the Order and Ryv's tenure under Sith imprisonment left him unable to attend for months. Perhaps the will of the force guided him to Coruscant this particular day, maybe a cosmic coincidence, but it didn't matter. Ryv lit up like a child, nonetheless when a medical droid came to collect him. Pushing past the droid, he hurried down the halls and slowed as he approached the room. Hearing the silent sobbing from within the room, Ryv stopped beside the door and waited. He leaned against the wall, out of sight from the two, and crossed his arms over his chest. What purpose did he even have here? The meeting between the two of them would be enough for Cedric, which meant it to be enough for Ryv.

Ryv propped his head against the wall and closed his eyes. There'd be time enough to talk soon. It wasn't his place to interrupt.

P Placeholder 0128 | Loske Treicolt ​

 

[Dak]

"I see you've been informed as well?" Dak asks the Kiffar Knight as he approaches from further down the hall. The droid wasn't as tactful as the apprentice, and offered no reservation in his volume despite the emotional encounter taking place on the other side of the door "My preliminary logical assessments suggested Cedric would die of complications during his recovery - I had confirmed these results with several medical units who were better equipped for such specialized evaluations."

He pauses at the doorway next to Ryv, glancing inside momentarily before turning his head back to him "This news is surprising, but welcomed."

At that, the door to the ex-Lord-Imperator's secure medical holding is pushed open, announcing the arrival of the metal guardian.

"Master Cedric," he greets, taking a position at the foot of his bed. Dak's natural tone makes it seem like nothing had even happened "I am glad you are alive."

P Placeholder 0128 | Loske Treicolt | Ryv ​

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Coherent thought was a slippery thing, and Cedric was having difficulty getting a grasp on it. One moment he was finally able to recognize the room he inhabited, and the next some small fleshy thing was all over him. His eyes fluttered for a few seconds as his view came into focus; it was the texture of Loske's hair between his fingertips that finally brought him realization.

His arms flew about her as he drew her close, lips pressing to her temple for a moment before he spoke. "I take it I've been out for a little while?" He asked weakly, his voice a hoarse whisper after having been scarred from the injuries he'd sustained from the crumbling building. As he tore his gaze from his beloved to the others inhabiting the room, he felt a meek smile touch his lips.

This was far different than the last time he'd been on the brink of death. Then, no one had been around to receive him. When he'd healed things were simply business as usual, the Essonians pleased their leader was still capable, but no one was personally happy. As his gaze drifted from Loske Treicolt , to Ryv , and then to Dak , Cedric was allowed a realization.

For better or worse, the three individuals gathered in this room were the closest living things he had to family. It was an oddly comforting feeling, and one he'd not experienced in decades. There was a stability there that Cedric only now realized he'd been desperately lacking.

For a moment, the Jedi's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he gave Loske one more kiss before shifting his gaze to regard his friends. He willed those tears away, not wishing to let his student see him being so emotionally compromised, though his effort was only half successful.

"Glad you're still kicking around too Dak, Ryv," he offered them a tired smile. "Care to tell me what happened? I just remember a building deciding it was time to collapse on top of me."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The calm reaction from P Placeholder 0128 simply accepting the state of where they were was reassuring - having that much burden on your psyche while under the duress of stasis could open up a realm of unsavoury side effects. Many comatose patients had to undergo a series of trials to reeducate themselves on even the most primal expressions. Speech therapy didn't seem to be required, thank Ashla, and overall motor skills and performance would likely be restored too -- depending on the grace period he allowed himself.

Loske leaned into him, nodding slowly at his question on timing. Careful note was made about the faintness of his voice. She supposed that was natural, what with the tubes and arid requirements of all the machinery. Liquid was only being delivered through his veins, so it made sense his throat was particularly dry. "Just a bit." She validated while Frank rolled from the corner into the room, taking the cue that it was an appropriate time to do so given the entrance of the other metal guardian and member of Saber Squadron.

It was a very good thing Dak and Ryv 's exchange happened before the doors opened, because Loske was about at her limit with the droid's charming statistical approach to life. It sucked because she couldn't fault him for it, but she still had to listen to it. It was all too much for the naturally panglossian kiffar.

The Jedi Master's kiss trapped her lips in a taste that was foreign to her. She couldn't place it, and didn't take time to dwell on it in the moment - simply enjoying the interaction for what it was. It wasn't until he pulled away that she looked down and was able to place the flavour as prominently antiseptic.

Beyond that near-elysian interaction, she was surprised. With both Dak and Ryv in the room, that was a whole other person that was privy to her and Cedric's relationship. Not that such boundaries were are the fore of her mind right now, but it did send her on a mental tangent of the reality of where they were in the timeline. She and Cedric had elected to keep their intimacy private to keep her from the public eye and scrutiny of The Imperium. Cedric was awakening to a galaxy that had taken the Imperium and denounced his position --and the pressures that came with it that had at the time extended to her --- and grown it into The Alliance. Which meant affection would no longer have to be shadowed under subtle pretences. There was something exciting about that.

She was broken from her thoughts and bit her lip at Cedric's casual question that related his final memorable moment. Paramnesia was likely ample, his wires were probably somewhat crossed with the events that he'd seen in the real world, and the ones that saturated his comatose dreams. Adjusting her position to lean against the side of the mattress and lace her fingers with his, she drew her lips into a twist. Hard for her to completely relay what happened when she wasn't there. Ryv had been. And then ooooof the whole Imperium thing. She used the introduction to the question with the names of the other two in the room as rationale for it not to be her place to divulge a recollection of events for the Jedi's benefit.

 

[Ryv]

"Don't do it, don't do it, don't do i-" Ryv muttered quietly to himself the entire time he listened to Dak's metal feet clomp up the hall behind him. The kiffar wasn't surprised in the slightest by the droid's tactless interruption. With a lack of any emotional depth to its programming, he couldn't blame it for carelessly announcing their presence and barging into the room. Ryv rubbed the tattoo running beneath his eye and stepped in after Dak. He offered Loske and Cedric a nod before stepping off to the side, leaning against the counter with arms crossed once more. He couldn't say the development before his eyes came as a surprise either. A man of power such as Cedric attracted the attention of many in the galaxy, being the former Imperator.

The scarred Knight considered his master's question as his gaze drifted to the window. Speeders raced back and forth above the city of Coruscant, smog drifting past them to dissipate in the upper atmosphere. The galaxy continued to drift along, the quartet, forgotten, in its infinite crawl towards an inevitable end.

"One of our evac ships was swarmed elsewhere in the city. The infected creatures managed to force their way aboard and attack the crew and passengers alike. The bird went down, blowing through whatever supports kept the building, well, a building. When it started to collapse, you uh-," Ryv paused, tilting his head to the side as he considered the events of that horrible day. "No idea how, man, but you stopped it. Then you crushed a nearby horde by shifting most of it in the direction of the creatures, I s'ppose. Hit the ground right after that. Took a few of us to drag you aboard a nearby dropship and get you out of there."

Ryv slid his jacket off his shoulders and set it down on the counter behind him. He imagined he'd be here awhile.

P Placeholder 0128 | Dak | Loske Treicolt ​

 

[Dak]

Dak watches Cedric's apprentice as he explains the event. The droid hadn't been there, but he had heard the account a dozen times now from numerous perspectives. Despite a few minor differences, each one shared one crucial detail - the Imperator had demonstrated a truly magnificent feat of Force mastery on the battlefield. He had made himself a symbol in the eyes of many that day, inspiring the Imperium's forces to fight on against the overwhelming odds.

"While we did not win the battle, your efforts were vital in securing the time our naval forces needed to evacuate who we did," Dak raises his left hand and projects a small holo-image of Brentaal IV from his palm. Hundreds of data readouts cover it, and the typically blue image is painted in massive blotches of dark red, orange and yellow. "Unfortunately, Brentaal IV has remained in control of the extra-dimensional hostiles who attacked that day. The new admini-" the droid catches himself and pauses.

The holo-display shrinks back into his hand and Dak straightens himself, "A lot has changed in the last few months, Master Cedric," he shifts his glance between the two Kiffar, knowing they were well aware "Perhaps it is best that you rest and collect yourself before you're thrown back into it all."

P Placeholder 0128 | Ryv | Loske Treicolt ​

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Cedric did well to maintain his composure now that they were on to easier topics. He listened curiously as Ryv and Dak recounted the events that had transpired back on that zombie infested hellhole. He appreciated them for it - just about everything past that last stand at the top of the parking garage was a fuzzy haze.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips as they finished the short tale. It seemed things had not gone as well as he might've hoped, though they were all still alive, so that was something at the very least.

"Well," he huffed as he tried to sit himself up a little straighter. "I suppose it's time to get back to work then." He couldn't help but pause. Dak had begun to mention something, and it twisted a little dagger of worry in his heart.

"What was that you were saying Dak?" He asked, brow furrowing. Something was off. He could feel it in the ebb and flow of the empyrean.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Dak]

It would seem he'd be unable to dodge the explanation afterall. Conceding, Dak explains;

"Well, considering the active national emergency and the fact that your death was presumed to be imminent, a Declaration of Incapacity was passed in the House of Lords," Dak looks to the sole window, observing the surroundings as he uncharacteristically considers the optimal phrasing. It was something he seemed to only do for Cedric, and only sometimes.

"The worlds of the Imperium have formed a Federation and formalized their allegiance to one-another under a Common Charter," he looks back to his his organic friend with sympathy intended, but not apparent "the High Lord of Tepasi has been elected Chief of State. In your honour, they've granted your family the title of royalty on the planet," the droid pauses, "but I'm afraid the Monarchy has ended. We now find ourselves in the Core Federation of Free Alliances."

​

P Placeholder 0128 | Ryv | Loske Treicolt ​

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The warmth Cedric had exuded faded from his features near instantaneously. His rational mind understood why the people of the Imperium had made the decision to shift toward something different, but it still wasn't connecting properly. It wasn't something he could blame them for - he'd been comatose for what he assumed to be some time - but it still wasn't good news.

The point of the Imperium had been to maintain civil order amidst the chaos. Without direct control, he could not enact that change. His means and purpose were gone, all because some architect couldn't be assed to create a structurally sound building.

There wasn't any divine providence. If anything, the Ashla was telling him he shouldn't rule, and it didn't make sense to him.

A few long moments of silence passed as Cedric processed the news. When he spoke, it was with the same dutiful tone with which he had once run Coruscant, though it was more to contain his emotions than any kind of inspiration.

"I see," he breathed a heavy sigh, "That's understandable. I'm...I'm just glad things are still being held together." He offered the trio a small smile, and squeezed Loske's hand.

"And how are you three?" He asked, eager for a change of subject. "Doesn't look like anyone's lost any limbs. Yet."

Ryv , Loske Treicolt , Dak

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Held together was a generous term.

Stitched at tearing seams and surviving out of necessity was a little more realistic. And the seamstress was stressed. The past few months seemed to hit a critical mass of horror in the galactic core and dealing with the devil had just turned normal. Between the opening of the Netherworld into the skies of Brentaal IV, and the intersection that it was to several primary trade routes, and genocidal monsters at the outskirts, P Placeholder 0128 had a lot of current events to catch up on. And that was notwithstanding the changes of the group in the room.

"Very close." Loske started to respond. Truth was, she and Dak 's stories paled in comparison to the literal hell Ryv had been through.

"Brentaal IV was only the beginning.

We were forced to retreat." She looked down, still hating the sound of those words. It was the fierce independence of that Kiffar blood, gratitude to her maternal donor, that made her so uncomfortable with accepting it. It almost made her throat tight just to admit defeat. The day had been one that had eternally scarred the culture of the planet. They'd had to raze it to the ground, on command of the Anaxes Admiral. Anyone left behind had been incinerated.

"We lost a lot of people, and..actually," she cocked her head and tilted it in the direction of the other Kiffar in the room. "Temporarily lost Ryv to the abyss, too.

That's worth an update."

 

[Ryv]

Ryv remained silent through Dak's explanation, opting instead to watch the continued passage of time beyond the window. The kiffar wanted his master to awaken after so long comatose, but Ryv dreaded the idea of having to tell Cedric what had become of his empire. Without a voice to unify the core worlds and the House of Lords, the Imperium couldn't survive. At the time of the Jedi Master's disappearance, neither Loske nor Ryv could step up into such a position. Even now, Ryv wasn't so sure he had the potential to lead others in any capacity. When Cedric fell on Brentaal IV, the weight of leadership fell onto his shoulders, and the young Jedi failed. So much so, that Cassius had to bombard the planet, sacrificing more than the Imperium's good soldiers could save. He frequented the memorial constructed for the fallen heroes, hoping in some way it would earn him the forgiveness and peace he sought.

Cedric's concern for the trio around him didn't surprise his apprentice. Ryv knew the older Jedi as a kind and compassionate man, one who'd overlook his own emotions and misgivings for the sake of those he cared about. The kiffar looked to Loske, and Dak, in turn, reminded further of his inability to step into his master's shoes when they needed him most. What right did Ryv have to stand among this group of heroes when he could barely drag himself out of bed in the morning to face each new day?

He pushed himself off the counter and turned his head to the door. Before he could take a step towards the exit, Loske's comment froze him in his tracks. An involuntary breath escaped his lungs as her words echoed through his mind. Images he could not escape resurfaced, clawing through the kiffar's brain like a ravenous beast searching for its next meal. Feeling the strength leave his legs, Ryv's gloved hand tightened on the counter's edge to keep him aloft.

"Yeah," Ryv took hold of the Blade of Ruusan at his side, gently running his bare thumb across the weapon's surface. As the sense of calm slowly washed over him, he moved towards the bed and held the weapon out to Cedric. "I'm alright, man. Nether wasn't so bad, but uh, I think you should take this back. I'm not fit to carry it around anymore. Hell, I doubt I ever was," Ryv's eyes closed as he fell into silence. He didn't even want to get into the time he spent at the mercy of a senile, Sith Lord.

P Placeholder 0128 | Dak | Loske Treicolt ​

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The news wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Cedric's greatest fear was that the core would fall into anarchy should his rule be usurped - it seemed the people were more capable of organizing themselves than he'd thought. Part of him hoped his actions had helped to influence that, but his rational mind understood such wants to be arrogance.

This was their victory. Not his.

"Is the threat gone? Did you find out what caused it?" He asked, unable to contain his curiosity. That curiosity quickly gave way to concern as Ryv spoke up. The boy was changed. Not in a fundamental sense, but Cedric could see the weight of the world hanging off his padawan's shoulders just as well as he could feel it in the Force. Whatever misgivings the Jedi might have had were dashed at this realization - what one might call his paternal instincts were particularly strong.

"There was no one more suited," he replied soundly, his eyes boring into Ryv's as if that might help better translate his meaning. "The Blade of Ruusan can only be wielded by those it chooses." He continued as he took the weapon from Ryv's oustretched hand. The familiar hilt was comfortable in his grasp, and brought him a feeling of stability he'd been lacking since waking up. "If it worked for you, then you were worthy. Are worthy. Perhaps worthy enough to take care of it for me when I no longer need it."

A new path presented itself then. For a moment, as Cedric examined the emblazoned pommel of the blade, he saw another life. He could pass the blade on now knowing it was in safe hands, and with it his duties to the Jedi Order. He could do anything then, and be beholden to no one save for those he loved. A life of conflict and strife left behind for something far simpler, and maybe happier too.

His gaze drifted from Ryv to Loske Treicolt and then to Dak , brow furrowing as he warred with his own thoughts. After a few moments of silence, he set the weapon aside. "My purpose was clear when I was Imperator. I knew what the Force needed from me. Now...I have no idea," he sighed, running a hand over his bare scalp as he tried to put his thoughts to words.

"I'm going to take the Barash Vow. It's an ancient Jedi rite. One sequesters himself where he is needed most, and focuses solely on the Force in order to cleanse the mind and find new purpose." He explained as he tried to sit up a little straighter. His body was still numb, and the effort was a little taxing, but he managed. "Whatever stands against what the people have built, I'll oppose. If I'm not to lead then I'm to fight. That's always been my path." His brow furrowed. "I hope you all still have the spirit for it."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The exchange between Ryv and P Placeholder 0128 was genuinely sweet. From an outside perspective, they served to fill the gaps the other felt. An unlikely pairing, but worked to inspire one another like a double helix; ultimately manifesting in growth. There was the need to protect, and continue on in legacy for Cedric, and rising to the challenge under the fatherly eye for Ryv. At least, that was Loske's interpretation of the relationship from her relative position. For all intents and purposes, Ryv filled the role that she'd denied, and the obvious mirth that evoked in the Jedi Master brought relief.

I don't think I'm qualified to be that person all the time. All of the person you need for your vision.
The only part I'm really unsure about is rebuilding the Jedi and their temples. I..I don't think that's me."

She chewed on her cheek while the internal struggle manifested in Cedric's mind, somewhat helpless to assist in the mental wrestle. The Imperium he’d been the face of had been groomed into The Alliance, and his family’s name bronzed in gratitude but he was no longer the leader. Decisions were out of his control, not influence, but acting without question and the support of zealous followers wasn't so grandiose now. It was no secret that so much of Cedric’s self purpose was closely knotted to The Imperium and it's vision. They were intrinsic of one another.

"I've spent many years pondering how to restore the galaxy to its old glory," Cedric began as he toyed with a small wooden carving that had been shaped into the image of a nexu. "My entire life, I have been devoted to four things. The Jedi Order, the people of the galaxy, my own people the Essonians, and the living force. I have spent far more time than is healthy pondering how best to serve these causes, and the Imperium was my answer.
[......]
From the Imperium, we can do the greatest good for the galaxy. We can act in the interests of the people, and no one is above us to tell us to do otherwise."

Being wrenched apart involuntarily seemed to leave him disoriented and lost..and he needed a north star. It was almost demoralizing to watch and feel. For someone who'd had such a pure, firm resolve to be unsettled made her mildly uncomfortable. There'd been more than one occasion Cedric gave way to his unguarded thoughts, wandering down the whimsical consideration of what if...he didn't have the responsibilities he shouldered with his House and The Imperium? What what if had turned into a what now. An opportunity to capitalize on all the theories and conjectures of afore.

Sorry, a Barash what? Was this a chastity thin--oh. No. She flushed with slight relief. Another ancient Jedi tradition. Where did they come up with this stuff?

A machine Cedric was hooked up to beeped angrily when he shifted, the screen lighting up with an amber message before it decided everything was fine and went back to it's typical binary scrolling. Frank, who still hadn't disconnected, accidentally beeped as well. "Oop," Loske murmured, relinquishing Cedric's hand and dropping to her knee to finagle with her droid. It wasn't to seem disinterested, but it did buy her some time to process the sentiment. Looking concentrated on popping open Frank's logic function, tracing her finger along until she found that program she'd shoved in several months prior. With a pop it was removed. Frank's holo projector flickered for a moment, but satisfied, returned back to normal. With the chip in her palm, she stood again, closing her fingers over the little inch-wide square. Frank looked a little embarrassed, well. Insofar as an astromech could express himself, and purposely avoided the advanced AI's gaze, for apprehension of Dak 's superior manufacturnig judgement. He probably had so much bandwidth for any sort of program, that he didn't have to worry about sacrificing space! How abashing.

Did they have the spirit for it? She cocked her head with a shake and a simper.

"I think we'd all be insulted if you thought otherwise. And naive to think we had any other options.

Sounds like you're operating now unaffiliated, without borders. If the GA needs you, you'll be there, The Silvers, any one who's taking a stand against all the threats in the galaxy. Do you become like..a kind of nomad now?"

 

[Dak]

Dak watches the exchanges of the others silently, his receptors jumping between Ryv & P Placeholder 0128 . Times were changing.

His concentration on the meaning of their words fades as thoughts surface. He finds himself at a faded memory of a much older Grayson man, one he can no longer recall the name of. He's giving a speech - something reminiscent of those he's heard Cedric recite. The year is a blur, but the droid knows it to be at some point towards the end of the New Sith Wars - the sight of Delara at the other end of the stone hall they were gathered in confirms it.

Unlike the others here, Dak had been fighting this war for millennia. Did that make him more capable than the Knight or Master? Certainly not. But nonetheless, he had found himself bound to the never ending conflict between Jedi and Sith. The droid was barely able to recall anything else because of it. He had lost the faces of those he had helped long ago; replaced by lingering guilt for the companions he had lost along the way, whether to the enemy, time, or to the cruel loss of memory that came with his age. It was all he knew.

That is, until these last few years.

The Galaxy was far different now, for better or worse. His first instinct when Cedric had re-activated him had been to return to service. A Grayson lived, and Cedric was certainly full of ambition. But Dak's own years on his isolated journey to find answers from his past, paired with the growing purpose he'd felt in the protection of others, brought new perspectives to the old droid.

"I cannot go with you," Dak announces abruptly, the comment a response to Cedric's announcement of his Barash Vow. He glances to Loske Treicolt , wondering if she would silently judge him for not helping the situation according to their standards "I am helping people. People who need to be helped. I cannot abandon them, Master Cedric."

As a droid, it felt strange for him to declare his own action so assertively. It was one of the few gifts time had offered him for his sacrifices.

"You do not need me, Master. Not as a guardian at least." He pauses, attempting to find his next words "Your fight is well beyond my ability. It always has been, yet I have been honoured to be there. But I must help those I can."

 

[Ryv]

Still unsure of such claims, Ryv took a step back and returned to his place across the room. He hopped up to take a seat on the counter, his legs dangling beneath him as he listened to the others speak. He didn't have the same faith in himself that the rest of them seemed to hold. Each of them believed in something, himself included, but his belief fell in others. The force proved to a constant ally and guide to the young Jedi during his fight to unite the Jedi against a common threat. That hope began to slowly disappear as his master spoke to the rest of them. Ryv had heard the very same speech before. So many believed by acting unbeholden to something greater, they could make a difference in the galaxy. Yet, the Sith went mostly unchallenged while the Bryn'adul massacred trillions without fail.

"Cedric, man, I can't tell if you're arrogant, selfish, or disillusioned," Ryv cut in after Dak finished speaking. "Dak's right. We're helping people now. Not separated from the rest of the galaxy, but working side by side. You can't just bow out of here because you aren't on the throne anymore. We shouldn't rule, that isn't the place of the Jedi. We fight bad guys, we inspire hope, and we never give up. We can't hold ourselves back with government titles, because all they do is slow us down," his tone carried with it a weight unfamiliar to his former master, but to Loske and Dak, they would recognize the resolve behind the young Jedi Knight. A product of each hardship he overcame in his continued quest for the light.

"You should be the Sword of the Jedi. You should be the one to shoulder the burden of leading the Jedi to war, Cedric, not me. I'm a dumb kid who doesn't have half the charisma or wisdom you carry. You're holding yourself back—that mask of yours is an anchor to the past. I get it, man, I do," Ryv looks down as he paused his words, one of his hands taking hold of the jacket hanging from his shoulders. It belonged to his late father, and it was all the kiffar had left of his past life. "There are some things I can't let go of either, but it isn't the Jedi way to live in a shrouded past. We've got to lead others to a brighter future, or we aren't doing our part."

The Jedi Knight met his former master's eyes, challenging his decision. "People need you, Cedric," Ryv motioned towards the other two in the room. "We need you," he balled his hand into a fist before pressing it against his heart. "I need you."

P Placeholder 0128 | Loske Treicolt | Dak ​