Setzi Lunelle
Searching for Eleos's Altar
**Six months ago**
There wasn’t one thing she could point to and say, this was the cause of the mental break. But it happened just the same. And galaxy doctors or psychological experts likely had names for it – nervous exhaustion, melancholia, existential crisis… even psychosis.
But despite a strong circle of Silver Jedi around her – Master Connor Harrison and her friend and sometimes companion, Krux Mullaras – Setzi Lunelle began to push them all away, both physically and mentally. She would come to terms with the why and the how later. Her actions were cruel, her intentions as foggy as a Dagobah swamp, but there was only one remedy for the Jedi-turned-Seth-turned-Jedi (complicated didn’t even begin to describe it). And then Knight Mullarus disappeared, and she no longer even had that emotional anchor.
Setzi didn’t just run; she lifted off of Voss, flying into the familiar, dark atmosphere of the Tion Cluster. Piloting the trusty Pirate’s Foe, a hulking behemoth of a freighter she’d had for over four years, the Jedi Padawan plotted her course and did not turn on her view screen to glimpse the breathtaking, oceanic blue, white and mustard-colored swirls of Voss’s terrain from this distance as she left it behind.
She’d started her journey by visiting every temple she could. Lightside or darkside… it didn’t matter. Padawan Lunelle's search for esoteric knowledge had become a voracious need inside her, a solution for the turmoil she felt, this shroud of guilt and regret which had become so familiar, clinging to her like a lost soul, that she’d almost forgotten it was there.
Until she was finally able to throw off the choking pelisse, letting it decompose around her like thorilide.
**Present Day**
Setzi sat in a creaky booth in a dusky cantina on the outskirts of Voss. Even though, she’d returned, she wanted to avoid spotlight detection right away and sought an unfamiliar bar, tucked far away from the Voss Temple and the student training ground of the Silvers. It had been years since she’d been in a cantina as the brunette padawan, then Sith Lord, had been extremely dedicated to her Force studies, likely at the price of her mental health at times.
It’s okay to unwind, she told herself. Part of this healing process required her to have a little fun, and as long as it didn’t dissolve into full-on hedonism, it was healthy. Wasn’t it? It’s why the padawan preferred the Silver or Grey Jedi as opposed to the staunch, monastic Jedi Order of the Republic.
Balance was certainly an underrated property in the Galaxy.
“A Corellian ale please,” said the padawan, smiling warmly at the bartender. Once the wheat-flavored alcohol hit her throat, she began to relax into her seat, gazing around the cantina. Her eye caught a mirror nearby, and by the Core, how bronzed you are from your travels, Setzi thought - as tan as when she was on assignment with Agricorps or even learning how to deep sea dive with the Levantines.
She smiled at the memory, her mood much lighter than it was a few months ago. A sudden anxious feeling crept over her at the thought of Connor Harrison walking in and interrupting her singular plan. Would he try and stop her if he knew what she wanted to do?
Probably. But at this time, she sought an ally who could help her. Someone who didn’t mind getting their hands a little dirty, strolling into enemy territory with a nonchalance versus a death wish.
Setzi had the plan. All she needed was the partner.
[member="Alkor Centaris"]
There wasn’t one thing she could point to and say, this was the cause of the mental break. But it happened just the same. And galaxy doctors or psychological experts likely had names for it – nervous exhaustion, melancholia, existential crisis… even psychosis.
But despite a strong circle of Silver Jedi around her – Master Connor Harrison and her friend and sometimes companion, Krux Mullaras – Setzi Lunelle began to push them all away, both physically and mentally. She would come to terms with the why and the how later. Her actions were cruel, her intentions as foggy as a Dagobah swamp, but there was only one remedy for the Jedi-turned-Seth-turned-Jedi (complicated didn’t even begin to describe it). And then Knight Mullarus disappeared, and she no longer even had that emotional anchor.
Setzi didn’t just run; she lifted off of Voss, flying into the familiar, dark atmosphere of the Tion Cluster. Piloting the trusty Pirate’s Foe, a hulking behemoth of a freighter she’d had for over four years, the Jedi Padawan plotted her course and did not turn on her view screen to glimpse the breathtaking, oceanic blue, white and mustard-colored swirls of Voss’s terrain from this distance as she left it behind.
She’d started her journey by visiting every temple she could. Lightside or darkside… it didn’t matter. Padawan Lunelle's search for esoteric knowledge had become a voracious need inside her, a solution for the turmoil she felt, this shroud of guilt and regret which had become so familiar, clinging to her like a lost soul, that she’d almost forgotten it was there.
Until she was finally able to throw off the choking pelisse, letting it decompose around her like thorilide.
**Present Day**
Setzi sat in a creaky booth in a dusky cantina on the outskirts of Voss. Even though, she’d returned, she wanted to avoid spotlight detection right away and sought an unfamiliar bar, tucked far away from the Voss Temple and the student training ground of the Silvers. It had been years since she’d been in a cantina as the brunette padawan, then Sith Lord, had been extremely dedicated to her Force studies, likely at the price of her mental health at times.
It’s okay to unwind, she told herself. Part of this healing process required her to have a little fun, and as long as it didn’t dissolve into full-on hedonism, it was healthy. Wasn’t it? It’s why the padawan preferred the Silver or Grey Jedi as opposed to the staunch, monastic Jedi Order of the Republic.
Balance was certainly an underrated property in the Galaxy.
“A Corellian ale please,” said the padawan, smiling warmly at the bartender. Once the wheat-flavored alcohol hit her throat, she began to relax into her seat, gazing around the cantina. Her eye caught a mirror nearby, and by the Core, how bronzed you are from your travels, Setzi thought - as tan as when she was on assignment with Agricorps or even learning how to deep sea dive with the Levantines.
She smiled at the memory, her mood much lighter than it was a few months ago. A sudden anxious feeling crept over her at the thought of Connor Harrison walking in and interrupting her singular plan. Would he try and stop her if he knew what she wanted to do?
Probably. But at this time, she sought an ally who could help her. Someone who didn’t mind getting their hands a little dirty, strolling into enemy territory with a nonchalance versus a death wish.
Setzi had the plan. All she needed was the partner.
[member="Alkor Centaris"]