High Commander of the Lilaste Order
Laphisto had strayed from his path to return to the Jedi Temple—a place he had not seen in millennia, let alone set foot upon. The last time he had stood within these sacred halls, his fate had been sealed. The Jedi had held him accountable for his role in the Second Great Schism, branding him a heretic, a traitor to their rigid doctrine. The memory alone was enough to make him frown, his steps momentarily slowing as hesitation crept in.
A part of him wanted to turn back, to let the past remain buried beneath the sands of time. To walk away and leave the Jedi behind, as they had once abandoned him. But after the debacle on Zonju V, after his unexpected reunion with
Tamsin Graves
and
Kaila Irons
, something in him refused to let go. The ghosts of the past still clung to him, whispering doubts and regrets he could no longer ignore. He needed closure. If he was ever going to truly turn his back on the past, to forgive and forget—not just for his own sake but perhaps even for the Jedi themselves—then he had to face it.
As he approached the Jedi Temple, he blended into the sea of robes flowing through the grand walkways. The garments he wore were simple, traditional Jedi robes—ones he had conveniently "acquired" for the occasion. A man like him, clad in full battle armor, would have been noticed immediately. Discretion was his ally. But how long could he truly walk unnoticed before someone started asking questions? Before the weight of his presence, of the history woven into his very being, drew the eyes of those who still upheld the Order's traditions?
He cast a glance upward at the towering structure before him. The temple had changed, yet its presence remained the same a beacon of unwavering belief, a symbol of everything he had once fought for and against. He needed to get to the Jedi archives. the only thing that begged the question was. How long could he get away with it before someone started to catch on? and just how much information could he get his hand on before he started to draw the eyes of security.
A part of him wanted to turn back, to let the past remain buried beneath the sands of time. To walk away and leave the Jedi behind, as they had once abandoned him. But after the debacle on Zonju V, after his unexpected reunion with
Tamsin Graves
and
Kaila Irons
, something in him refused to let go. The ghosts of the past still clung to him, whispering doubts and regrets he could no longer ignore. He needed closure. If he was ever going to truly turn his back on the past, to forgive and forget—not just for his own sake but perhaps even for the Jedi themselves—then he had to face it.As he approached the Jedi Temple, he blended into the sea of robes flowing through the grand walkways. The garments he wore were simple, traditional Jedi robes—ones he had conveniently "acquired" for the occasion. A man like him, clad in full battle armor, would have been noticed immediately. Discretion was his ally. But how long could he truly walk unnoticed before someone started asking questions? Before the weight of his presence, of the history woven into his very being, drew the eyes of those who still upheld the Order's traditions?
He cast a glance upward at the towering structure before him. The temple had changed, yet its presence remained the same a beacon of unwavering belief, a symbol of everything he had once fought for and against. He needed to get to the Jedi archives. the only thing that begged the question was. How long could he get away with it before someone started to catch on? and just how much information could he get his hand on before he started to draw the eyes of security.