Faction Show Me a Better Way

[Sevrin]

Sevrin found himself in a dark, endless abyss, the air thick with dread. He crouched in a damp corner of the slave pits, the chill of the stone pressing against his back. Shadows began to shift and writhe in the dim light, flickering like dying embers from the countless torches that barely illuminated the space. The air became heavy with the scent of sweat and fear with the smell of blood that clung to him. the kind of smell of rot and decay that churned his stomach.

The ground beneath him was soft but coarse sand that crumbled away in to a growing pool of murky water, vanishing like his resolve as he scrambled away from the edges. He instinctively reached out, grasping at the walls and floor as he fell in, but any semblance pr purchase on the sand floor slipped through his fingers as he sank into the dark, swirling waters below. The water's surface undulated, as it tinged with a deep, menacing green that promised nothing but despair.

As he strained to see into the depths and claw his way out, a twisting shadow shifted beneath the surface, coiling like massive ropes. Panic ignited within him, burning away any rational thought. The darkness felt alive, pulsating with a malevolent hunger. He could almost hear whispers woven into the lapping water, taunting him, urging him closer to the edge of darkness.

Then, it happened. The dark shape surged upward as if compelled by an unseen force. Water exploded around it, glistening scales catching the faint light, revealing a massive serpent with eyes of molten gold, filled with a predatory malice.

With a roar that trembled through the pit, the creature lunged. Sevrin's flight instincts kicked in, but there was nowhere to run. The serpent wrapped around him like a vice, crushing him as its fangs sank into his shoulder. A scream of agony tore from his throat.

Pain.

Searing, blinding, pain.

A burning so fierce, it froze him. It spread throughout his body, seeping through every nerve until it consumed him.

All at once he awoke in a start, sweat dripping from his brow. His hands instinctively shot up, searching his shoulder for signs of injury, but there were none. He drew in a ragged breath, then another. His heartbeat was still racing, pounding against his ribs.

A dream. It had been a dream. But even as the realization dawned on him, the pain remained, throbbing in the background like an open wound. He had seen this before. It was a vision of the past, one he had experienced countless times. The same nightmare, always ending the same.

Except this time. This time was different. This time something happened.

Still feeling the effects of the serpent from his dream he rose rose his bed casting aside the blanket. It was cold here. Not a feeling he was used to. He wiped the sweat from his face and looked at the Jedi robes provided for him. They were soft and dark, not like anything he was used to wearing or owning. He cleaned himself up and put them on, feeling out of place in their unfamiliar comfort.

Leaving his room, Sevrin walked down the quiet halls of the Jedi Temple. The place was calm and beautifully decorated... a strange grandeur very foreign to him that stood in contrast to the harsh environments he had known. He found his way to a training hall. It was empty, the middle of the night leaving it silent and still

Stepping inside the dimly lit training room, Sevrin paused, taking in the rows of practice sabers and scattered training equipment that lined the walls. He was alone,

With a deep breath to anchor himself, he unzipped the black bag slung over his shoulder and dumped its contents onto the cold, hard floor. The sound echoed in the silence, metal clattered as a collection of sabers tumbled out, almost seven in total. From a battered, scrap-worn piece he'd gotten from Darth Dacian from the remains of a fallen foes, to a few he had meticulously stripped for parts from his kills on Korriban.

He knelt down amidst the scattered equipment. He didn't entirely understand their inner workings. But this was his chance to dive deeper, to push boundaries and grasp the power behind these instruments of war.

With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a broken, scrap-worn saber into the air, letting it hover before him. The dim light glinted off its marred surface, revealing the wear and tear of countless battles. Sevrin studied it, feeling an echo of the lives it had extinguished. What made it tick? What secrets lay hidden within its hilt, waiting to be unearthed?

As he focused, the saber began to rotate slowly, drawing him further into contemplation.

 

[Tilon Quill]

Tilon, these days, felt the Force led him unexpected places much too often. That familiar urge brought him to a dark training hall at midnight after perhaps two hours' sleep.

He squinted at the lone figure and the bits of metal gleaming on the floor. When he was fairly sure they were lightsabers and the figure was up to something slightly stranger than most Jedi did at midnight, Tilon turned back and knocked on the inside of the door to announce himself.

"That's quite a collection," he said, aiming for friendly rather than the cautiousness he actually felt. "Need a hand with it? Or is this training?"

Sevrin

 

[Sevrin]

Tilon Quill
Severin was startled from his thoughts by the sound of an unfamiliar voice. The pieces of the saber clattered to the floor as his concentration broke. He turned, blue eyes settling on the newcomer, and offered a weak smile followed by an odd tilt of his head.

"Thank you... I've gathered enough, I think."

Most of the hilts had an aesthetic... typical of Sith design with harsh angles, and dark metals. None of them had crystals, of course. Drystan Creed had confiscated those along with Darth Malfureon's holocron.

"I would love some help… I don't know how any of these tools work."

He trailed off, shifting to pick up the worn, half-slagged saber he'd taken from Darth Dacian the one he'd quite literally carved his way to freedom with, through blood and flame.

"I broke this one. I'm not sure what caused the failure, but… I like this one the most."

The others were in better condition, polished, clean, untarnished by purpose or pain.

"Do you… know how these sabers work?" he asked.

Severin was a young man, older than what was traditional for a Jedi Padawan, and at present, he was neither Padawan nor acolyte. Tawny-skinned and wary-eyed, he carried himself with a subtle tension, as though uncertain whether the offer of help was genuine... or a prelude to something worse.

 

[Tilon Quill]

Tilon knelt and settled down comfortably; he felt he might be here a while. As Sevrin talked, Tilon picked his way through the sabers.

"I was a Sith acolyte as a boy," he said, in what he hoped was a disarming, confiding kind of way. "I've seen and used and fixed many of these. Here's the saber I built when I became a Jedi Knight. If you spend much time here, I'm certain they'll teach you how as well. It's a standard rite of passage in a literal sense."

He took out his lightsaber and set it on the floor between them, then continued examining the sabers.

"I could teach you, if you like, if it would help you come to terms with whatever brought you and these sabers here. I'm not an instructor here and don't have access to their component storage — I tend to touch down at all different temples and enclaves and orders — but I'm fairly sure there are enough components intact among these to build your own, something that's yours, and good."

 

[Sevrin]

Tilon Quill

Sevrin looked up at that and settled his sapphire blue eyes on Tilon's, his expression curious. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees as he considered what had been said.

"Well, I'll be damned," he remarked lightly. He glanced at the Jedi saber before shifting his gaze back to Tilon. A half-laugh escaped him, dying with an exhaled breath. "A man named Drystan Creed brought me here... As for the blades, I believe there are many that still work. The one I wish to make functional is broken," he trailed off, considering.

"The one that doesn't work was given to me... the ones that do, I took from others," he added lightly. "Show me how they are put together. I am unfamiliar with these weapons, and I will be in your debt for such knowledge."

 

[Tilon Quill]

Tilon shrugged off the idea of debt, idiom or not. "It's nothing — anyone else here would've taught you sooner or later."

He took the maintenance panel from his own saber, revealing the complex electronics.

"There's an awful lot in here. I use mnemonics — memory tricks — to keep them straight, and a database or notebook when I was learning. The most important and personal part is the focusing crystal. That varies a lot. Plenty of Jedi trainees go on missions to find their own, or bring in something from the other parts of their life. Some kinds of crystals are living things, and some Sith 'bleed' their crystals, corrupt and harm them. Bled crystals can be healed, but that's not something I can do yet. Crystals can also be damaged, which takes special equipment or a lot of work in the Force to fix.

"First thing to do would be to check the saber you want to fix. Is the crystal damaged? Can we check if it's bled? Most bled crystals are red; some red crystals are bled. So go by feel — does it feel like pain? — instead of sight."

Sevrin

 

[Sevrin]

"I imagine that’s why Drystan Creed took all the crystals... they were all red."
Sevrin's voice was flat, fingers idly turning over the worn bits of the scrap-saber on his knee.
"I didn’t make any of these," he added, quieter. "I took them off some 'Sith'."

He paused on one set of parts, different from the others. He handled them with more care.

"Except this one... this one was given to me."
He laid the pieces out, gently, like setting down memories.

"I’d like to keep it, but something’s fried inside. Don’t know what."
A dry breath through his nose, almost a laugh.

"Some stupid little girl playing tomb raider ( Serina Calis ) decided she was invincible, threw a temper tantrum, and pitched sparks at me. Saber caught the worst of it. Then it exploded."

He shrugged like it wasn't the first time something important to him had been broken by some arrogant, careless , loudmouth.

Tilon Quill

 

[Tilon Quill]

Quill began disassembling sabers briskly. As noted, none of them had focusing crystals. Between that and Sevrin 's unsupervised status, he felt he had a good sense of the level of trust the Jedi applied to this newcomer. "Now, I've often found mine's a minority opinion on this, but spite's not the Jedi way. Recognize your feelings, put them in their place, keep your filter up, and figure out why you feel that way. In your shoes I might be feeling, oh, embarrassment that someone got the drop on me and I lost something that mattered. But that's simply..."

A couple of the sabers broke down into a handful of assemblies of components, and he sorted them like with like on the stone floor.

"...simply mortality. Incidental wear and tear and nothing to be embarrassed about. Here you are."

He spent a few minutes walking Sevrin through each bundle of components and what it, approximately, did.

"Now looking at yours, what looks damaged, or feels that way?"

 

[Sevrin]

Tilon Quill

Embarrassed? That didn't quite fit.

Sevrin had long since bled out whatever capacity for shame he might've had. The emotion he felt towards that felt irritating, mildly annoying, and inconvenient.

What he did understand, in broad strokes, were systems. Gutting half-dead freighters had given him that much. Circuits, power routing, volatile cores... those all made sense.

"Spite kept me alive. Gave me just enough poison to make it through the day without falling apart."

He crouched again, eyes sweeping over the array of bobbles and half-intact internals Tilon had laid out, and instinctively began comparing them to the battered parts of his own scrap worn saber. The one scorched by that overeager brat playing at Force goddess.

He tapped the side of the fried hilt with a knuckle, thinking. The saber had caught the worst of the lightning. But what had blown...?
He pulled out two parts... the Power Cell and the Energy Modulation Matrix. "These two. " He said pulling aside the damaged parts as he shifted his gaze trying to determine what parts of the viable sabers might match well.

 

[Tilon Quill]

"Spite kept me alive. Gave me just enough poison to make it through the day without falling apart."

Tilon flinched at that. "I remember," he said, flashing back despite himself to his childhood among the Sith. He'd had a gift but not been strong enough to keep himself safe. "But there's no more need for that. You're safe here."

He pulled out two parts... the Power Cell and the Energy Modulation Matrix. "These two. " He said pulling aside the damaged parts as he shifted his gaze trying to determine what parts of the viable sabers might match well.

"This one here's quite easy - this longer saber works off the same model of cell, and it looks like there's a charge." He cracked out the cell and handed it over. "As for the modulation matrix, though...that's a bit trickier, with several specific kinds of connections. Any one of these has a modulation matrix to fit, but it'll take some dexterity and carefulness. Try to stretch out to the Force for a sense of...well, whether connecting something is about to fry a component, and then don't do that. It's an invaluable instinct to cultivate."

 

[Sevrin]

Tilon Quill
Sevrin's brows drew together. "I don't think safety is real. Anything can happen, any moment. People tell themselves they're safe so their minds can rest from the constant stress. It's a luxury...an illusion we all buy into now and again...because it's easier than staying alert."

He picked through the saber pieces. "I think that illusion can be dangerous, too. Makes people miss warning signs."

He paused, rotating a damaged matrix in his fingers before glancing at Tilon. "Levitation takes a lot of focus. Wouldn't tools make more sense for circuit work?" He tapped the fine connections with a knuckle. "I get using the Force to slot pieces together, but for wiring?" His brow creased. "Can someone really sense when a component's about to fry? Why not just use a circuit tester?"
Here's a refined version of that line, keeping Sevrin's slightly distant, observant tone intact while smoothing the flow just a bit:

He looked Tilon over, gaze lingering like he was trying to solve a puzzle just by staring at it. Up close, Sevrin had never seen anyone like him, not in his life, not up close like this.

"My name is Sevrin," he said, voice quiet. Then, after a beat, as if just realizing something crucial, "...What should I call you?"

 

[Tilon Quill]

"Oh, I'm Tilon, Tilon Quill. I'm a Jedi Knight but I'm not affiliated, never have been." Small matter of the New Jedi Order trying to murder him when he was a child, but that was another story and this was not the moment. "And you're right about tools and wiring and all of it, and I'm sure you can find all that in this temple and would be welcome to use them, but the way I was taught was by a hermit on a glacier with a rock for a workbench." A fond memory. "You won't always have a machine shop or a decent kit, and there are safe ways to learn the right instincts and techniques. And even more importantly, you learn a lot about the Force - focus, precision, instinct, patience - in a process like this. Journey before destination and all that."

Sevrin

 

[Sevrin]

Tilon Quill
"Good point..." he trailed thinking about it. "Jedi Knight huh? But ... not affiliated? What does any of that actually mean? " He asked having no real concept of what the Jedi are or were aside from stories he's heard. He looked to the man with a questionable look. He wasn't sure what Drystan Creed exactly was wither or what it meant to be a knight or any of the differences between subsets of groups.

 

[Tilon Quill]

Tilon yawned hugely.

"Jedi, believe it or not, are people too. They've got loyalties and politics and attitudes and terrible dramatics."

He thought of using the saber parts to illustrate his point, but there were easier ways and anyway that was too on the nose even for a man with purple hair. Instead he took the opportunity to practice the Mist-Weavers' arts, a power orders of magnitude older than the Jedi. What looked like fog collected gently and swirled into a half-tangible image of the galaxy, about as wide as his forearm was long. Soft light showed the location of the Jedi temples and enclaves he knew of.

"A large share of Jedi and Jedi locations - this one, for example - are affiliated with the Galactic Alliance's New Jedi Order - they've been the main show in town since I was a boy. Many others are affiliated with independent enclaves, or with small orders like that very interesting Shiraya crew at Naboo, or even with other Force traditions. Many are affiliated with more than one group. And shifting number of Jedi Knights and Masters are...let's say politically homeless. I'm one of them. Most Jedi you meet will be in some way part of an order."

 

[Sevrin]

Tilon Quill

He blinked, blue eyes widening in awe. Whatever this was, he'd never seen anything like it before. He was well and truly mystified, entranced by something that didn't seem like a trick, or some hidden bit of tech. Not exactly. It felt… different.

He tried to follow what Tilon was saying, but the words didn't come easy to him. This wasn't his world. Not even close.

"So… what brought you here then?" he asked, glancing from the strange images to Tilon. "If there's… all this political stuff, why stay somewhere you don't even feel like you belong?"

 

[Tilon Quill]

"Friends, mostly. One of my homes growing up was Manaan, and the Selkath there have a warrior tradition called the Order of Shasa. Sometimes Shasans join the Jedi or the Sith. An old friend studies here; she's a Jedi Knight too, but tighter affiliated with the NJO. I've got a few friends in most of the temples. That's not something I'd give up just because I don't like their bosses. Lot of damn authoritarian fetishists coding it all as gentle democracy, if you ask me. If I had a peggat for every time they'd tried to kill my family over it, I'd—"

He grimaced and blinked rapidly, trying to stay lucid. He really was very tired. Opinions were coming out that he kept to himself.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't professional of me." He waved his hands and the mist galaxy dissipated. "I think I need sleep after all."

Sevrin

 

[Sevrin]

Tilon Quill
"Must be hard to sleep in a place run by people who've tried to kill you before," Sevrin mused, his voice low and steady, almost too casual for the weight of his words. "In my experience, you learn to sleep lightly...."


He paused, eyes distant now....just remembering.

"Sleheyron's slave pits weren't quiet. You didn't get peace. You got breathing too close to your face. Chains shifting. People praying to gods that wouldn't answer. Or maybe just muttering to themselves, trying not to go mad. Light sleep was the best kind." He gave a shallow shrug, like it didn't bother him much anymore.

"At least here, the ones watching you wear robes instead of shock collars. Suppose that's progress."

 

[Tilon Quill]

Those bad memories dredged up their equivalent.

"For me it was Ziost. The Sith academy on Ziost. Night and day next to here, of course — nobody here will actually stab me in my sleep or warp me with alchemy. It really is safe here, don't get me wrong.

"I don't remember much before growing up there. My people are the Sharuka, very remote. I don't know our history or culture hardly at all. The Sith, like the Jedi, want to be everything to their members. Purpose, loyalty, deference, ambition, identity. Complete identity. Take away the Force from most of these people — Sith, Jedi — and who would they be?"

Sevrin

 

[Sevrin]

Tilon Quill
"I don't know much about Jedi or Sith. Only stories. And stories are just chains dressed up in silk, sometimes."
He scratched the side of his neck absently, where a collar used to be.

"But what you said... about them trying to be everything? That part I understand."
He looked off, like he could still hear the echo of old orders barked in crowded pens.

"In the pits, you didn't get to choose who you were either. You were what they made you. What they needed. Someone fast. Someone brutal. Someone obedient.... And yet... you still call your self a 'jedi'.... I wonder what all that means to some one like you... It seems to me they would rather keep an eye on force users here... They haven't asked anything of me as of yet aside from cooperation and limitations on minor things. "

 

[Tilon Quill]

"As someone who's seen the best and worst of both paths," Tilon said, starting to gather up the lightsabers and components, "the Sith way offers nothing healthy. The people who built these lightsabers may have been self-actualized, self-directed, possibly - but more often they were simply angry servants trapped in structures and cycles of constant abuse. You're asking why I'm a Jedi, though, and I've got a better answer than 'because they're not the Sith.' There's a universe's worth of ways to understand the Force through principles of behaviour.

"My goal is a good life, a satisfying and impactful one, and a large part of that is committed exploration of the Force. For that, the Jedi way works for me. It really is as simple as that. Seeking peace, understanding, harmony; keeping emotion in its place with good judgment; protecting life; self-sacrifice; attempts at objectiveness; serious commitment.

"Look, let me take it down to first principles in a way they'd never teach it to children. The Force is in everything, connects everything. Most sapient species can learn to feel and affect and use it. That ability depends on focus and clarity of mind. I'm guessing that when you took these lightsabers it was in a moment of extreme stress, for example. Both intuitively and through history and prehistory, Force-sensitives have discovered that there are two basic paths to maximize their sense of the Force and their ability to touch it." He was well aware that he was overtired and rambling, but he kept on; this was important.

"Path one is through what you might call passion. Anger, hate, real singleminded feelings. We both know how strong that can make us, and sometimes that's been necessary for survival in your life and mine, but it's just not the way to a satisfying life unless you're willing to become an actual monster. That's not for me."

"Path two - and remember, this is about how to reach and hold a state of focus - is through what you might call stillness. Peace and self-control even in the worst situations. Lots of meditation, self-denial, lots of introspection ideally. The Jedi take this route but don't have a monopoly on it. There are thousands of Force traditions and likely millions of practitioners across millions of worlds. If you ever meet a grandparent, a community elder, who's more than they should be, knows more, sees farther, odds are they follow this path too.

"I don't have a hundred pebbles to do this right, and I don't think I could mist-weave again with the right level of detail, but..." He sorted out the sabers and saber pieces in clusters on the floor. "...just imagine this is a galaxy's worth of the Force-sensitives who are tied in to galactic society and interstellar travel. The ecosystem of ecosystems. This chunk here, around a fifth of it, let's let that stand for the New Jedi Order, as well as all its useful auxiliaries in agriculture and exploration and so forth. Another fifth over here to the left is the Sith Order. Both long-term stable, forty-plus years and counting. But there's also - see? - many other scattered Jedi and Sith, but also many other traditions all across the galaxy. The Fallanassi - pacifists, non-interventionists, and the finest illusionists in the universe by a mile. The Ithorian Priests of the Mother Jungle - healers of whole worlds. The Jensaarai - defenders of their homeworld, Susevfi, wearing armour that can shut most lightsabers off on contact. The Wardens of the Sky - independent spacelane wanderers, living in secret, just unassuming spacers guarding transit against raiders with telekinesis and hand-to-hand combat, stabilizing routes, connecting worlds. There are many Wardens; it's a beautiful path. There's the Voss Mystics, the Nuns of G'aav'aar'oon, the Matukai lone-warriors and their polearms, the Chiss Skywalkers, the Sorcerers of Tund, the Witches of Dathomir, the gunslinging Gray Paladins - and so, so many more good and worthy ways to give the Force a fulfilling place in the life you want most."

Sevrin