Private There's No War Here

[Cedric Grayson]

He was beginning to miss the hoverchair.

The physical therapist had made it very clear that he needed to be walking around on his damaged leg if it was ever going to heal fully. The exile had complained as he was wont to do, and was quickly informed of his laziness and stupidity. Thus he walked, currently toward the main doors of the Ee'everwest Estate. This trip was a brief detour on his journey to the many different Jedi enclaves scattered about the galaxy. He did not come here seeking out students as he had in those place, but rather to deliver several families of Nabooian descent that had called Ession home in times past.

They were the remnants of his grandmother's handmaidens, mostly frail old men and women that had long passed the age of retirement. They were far too old for the type of environment his people were fostering back on Ruusan - better to take them home where they could spend the rest of their days in peace. Chartering passage through the Confederacy had not been easy, but Cedric's spies had managed to forge a false identity and provide the means for travel all the same. The Ee'everwests were chosen for their prestige, and also because their names happened to be rather high on the alphabetized list of noble families.

Here the handmaidens would serve, or at the very least have a jumping off point to find a new home.

Cedric breathed in deeply of the fresh evening air as he approached the doors, his cybernetic hand thudding loudly against the wood. He needed to make sure these people were taken care of, or his ancestors would likely turn away their favor. Barring that, if nothing could be done, the opportunity to visit his grandmother's homeworld one last time made this trip worthwhile enough.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

"I am past the age the father agreed I could be trained if I wanted to be," Brandyn said in defiance as the long, but slightly gnarly, branch was swung at his opponent, "it's time I learned how to be a Jedi."

His opponent, one of the groundskeeper's children, Davian Luka blocked Brandyn's strike and pushed back with ease. Their long sticks had been honed with hours of whittling to create a sturdy but knot and twig free weapon for them to 'train' with. Brandyn showed instant annoyance with how easily his attack had been thwarted.

"You could certainly use the training, Brandyn," came the reply from, the taller but younger, Davian as he pushed forward with the tip of his stick-saber, "why don't you talk to your father? I am sure he wants you to be happy."

"Talk to my fa..." Brandyn's reply was cut short when the point of Davian's stick that he thought he had dodged, caught him in the loose fitting tunic he wore and sent Brandyn tumbling back on to the ground. The impact wounded pride more than body, and hit with a loud thud. Though Brandyn sensed that the thud had not come from him, as much as it had come from somewhere else. This fleeting thought was immediately confirmed with a series of thuds that followed.

"Someone's knocking on the door?" Davian said with a frown quickly forming. It was indeed unusual for someone to knock, usually they were expected and were greeted with open doors.

Curiousity quickly overwhelmed the young Sal-Soren, and his training buddy, as the one helped the former to his feet and they set off to see who was at the door. Both came to a quick, sliding halt behind one of the nubby pillars that sat to each side of the base of the stairs that lead to the front door. Davian peered around first, eyes lighting up when he saw the man standing all the way up the many stairs. Brandyn followed, crouching below the taller boy, and peering around the corner. It was only when his eyes laid hold of the man atop the stairs that his senses lit up. There was a presence about the man that Brandyn could...feel, somehow. It was almost like the feeling he had around his mother, and older sister. But this was less familiar.

Davian ducked behind the short pillar, but Brandyn knelt their transfixed more by the presence he felt through the Force than by the sight of the man atop the stairs.

"Brandyn," Davian whispered, "get back here. He will see you."

| Cedric Grayson |​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

He cast a momentary look over his shoulder toward the speeder bus packed with the elderly. They were air conditioned well enough, and he supposed if they had waited this long to return to Naboo, they could wait just a bit longer. He returned his attentions toward the door, and was beginning to feel that he might've been ignored just as two unfamiliar presences appeared on his ethereal radar.

The empyrean coiled about them, though not nearly in the way it did around trained force users. Whereas a Jedi Knight might wear the energies of the force as a cloak, these two were garbed in metaphorical rags. Unfocused, and without any discernable pattern.

The exile's brow lofted as the doors opened and he was met with two youths. His arms folded behind the small of his back instinctively, and he offered a short, polite cough. "Hello there," the exile cracked a thin, albeit warm smile. His features were not the most welcoming. His craggy face had been made evermore inhuman by thick lines of scar tissues and patches of synth-flesh that didn't quite match the patterns of his natural skin. Even still, the warmth in his eyes was entirely too human.

"My name is Cedric Grayson. I've come to offer the service of several experienced handmaidens. They once served my grandmother during her tenure as the monarch of this world, and then my family thereafter." He nodded toward the speeder humming at the other end of the gardens. "They have need of a new estate, I thought the Ee'everwests might be keen, but eh," he glanced past the young man before him, then to the one behind the pillar, and beyond. "May I speak to your parents?"

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Davian did his duty and waited for Brandyn to respond, after all he was the Ee'everwest, the junior master of the household if you will. But there was long, uncomfortable pause where Brandyn said nothing and just stared at the older, scarred man. Davian took a few steps back and not-so-subtly kicked Brandyn in the shin.

"OW!" Exclaimed the young noble, a fire being lit in his eyes that led to him standing up in protest but collecting his shoulder on the small piece of the pillar that jutted out above where he had been crouching, "OW!" This time his reaction was that of a scorned puppy when he understood the quick comeuppance he had received.

Brandyn's eyes met Davian's. He found the young man's gaze one of determined chastisement. It took half a second for Brandyn to regroup and realize why this might be the case. When he did, he stepped forward with a quick, nervous bow.

"Hello! Hello, Mister Cedric. I mean, Mister Grayson," he said wincing, before tugging on his tunic and pulling his posture up to that which was appropriate for a person of his lineage. A quick breath seemed to steady him, but he could still hear Davian groaning audibly just behind him.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Evenfall. I am Brandyn Ee'everwest Sal-Soren. My father will surely be along soon. He is most definitely the one to talk to in regards to this matter."

Davian could be heard sighing in mild relief that Brandyn had finally gotten his act together. Brandyn rued the fact that it was he, and not Briana or Blaire that had greeting Grayson at the door.

Brandyn's eyes wandered over the man's face. He had cleary seen much, experienced much, even endured a great deal. But the presence in the Force gave Brandyn the most continued cause for curiousity.

Is he a Jedi?

It was only then that he realized that his pause had probably been a little too long, and he spat out his next words in haste before turning to Davian. "I will see what is keeping my father. Davian. Run along and find Chavik, he will be able to find out how long father will be."

| Cedric Grayson |​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The young man reminded Cedric of the novice knights of the homeworld. His always had always clung to tradition, for it was tradition alone that had seen them through the dark times. The roles of the aristocracy had a firm place in those traditions, and it was all too common for men to seek out force sensitive wives in hopes that they might be able to send their sons off to become proper Jedi Knights in service to the Essonian people. The formality had always struck Cedric as somewhat pointless, just as it did here, but he would humor it nonetheless.

"Cedric is fine," the exile did his best to keep the humor from seeping into his words, but it infected his smile despite himself. "The pleasure is on my part, Sal-Soren," he mused as he appraised the younger man. The boy was not much younger than his own nephew, though he seemed to lack Mikhail's inherent attraction toward chaos. There was mischief in the boy's eyes, not malcontent.

"It seems that Davian isn't too keen on the way you carry yourself," he added as the other boy wandered off. "My keepers never cared for my etiquette either. I always found it to be a bit of a time waster."

The older man paused for a moment. The empyrean was heavy now, like the air outside just before a thunderstorm. "I wasn't aware your family was host to force sensitivity," Cedric mused aloud, making his suspicions wholly known. "A useful trait for rulers all the same, however."

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

"Ah."

He felt speachless for just a moment. Not an uncommon thing, not for this member of the Sal-Sorens, but frustrating nonetheless. Davian's reproach would not be tolerated. Brandyn would have words with the boy eventually. Maybe he would tell Briana and let her ire do the dirty work for him. Yes, that sounded like a easy solution.

Being compared to the clearly experienced warrior made Brandyn's chest swell a little in artificial confidence. "I'm. I'm getting better at the etitquette side of things. At least, that is what my mother tells me." He winced again. Talking about mummy-dearest was not the fastest way to appearing like a masculine icon.

The feeling, or presence, that Brandyn had previously felt grew stronger. It felt now like a weight that was growing on his shoulders, pressing him down into the ground. He straightened his back to fight off the desire to slouch, but the discomfort was clearly showing. And now with the querying about Force sensitivity, Brandyn was also beginning to feel a slight unease in the man's presence.

"The Force?" Brandyn said, with a lie preloaded, "what's that?"

| Cedric Grayson |​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

To say that it was inappropriate to discuss matters of faith with a child while his parents were not around was a bit of an understatement, but then Cedric indulged himself anyway. He answered only to the highest of powers, the living God that was the Ashla, and it only ever brought him before those touched by the empyrean for a reason. He might have come here under the pretense of finding a home for the handmaidens, but as they so often were, it seemed greater powers were at work.

"You've not heard of the Force?" He asked patiently. "That's surprising given your apparent upbringing. I would have thought your parents would teach you," Cedric's brow furrowed. "The Force is...it is everything. It is what we come from before we are flesh. It is the source of all life, and the presence that binds us together." The crease in his brow deepened. "In the simplest of terms, it is an invisible energy field that some people can manipulate if properly trained. It is the source of a Jedi's power, but it is far more than simple energy."

He cast a quick look over the boy's shoulder, then returned his gaze to the youth. "If you believe in it, so too will it believe in you. The impossible can be achieved with its blessing, whether you can control it or not. My people call the Force by its true name, the Ashla. She is our goddess, our progenitor, and the source of all life in the cosmos."

He drew in a deep breath as he realized he was getting a bit carried away. "I am a Jedi Knight, but I am a servant of the Ashla first. Whatever she wills, I do." A pause, "Often she works in mysterious ways. I do not think our meeting is a mere coincidence. You have the empyrean's mark upon you."

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

With each word that Cedric spoke, Brandyn's eyes grew just a little wider. He hung on every word, as if it were a sacred message from the Froce itself. Such had been the derth of teaching around the Force that he had almost learned as much in this moment alone as he had in all the years of his life combined. It was everything he had always wanted, and more.

His mind was racing trying to place all the words and terminology that he had been presented. The Force. Connection. Ashla. Invisible energy field. Source of all life. Goddess.

A couple of times he opened his mouth to speak but instead of words coming out it was just an inaudible gasp of amazement. Heart racing and mind compiling the knowledge for future pondering, Brandyn clung to the last words to come from Cedric's mouth.

"You...are a Jedi..."

 

[Baros Sal-Soren]

"Brandyn," came the terse voice of Baros Sal-Soren, Hand to the Queen of Naboo.

The tall, greying man, came to stand before Grayson and placed his hand upon the younger Sal-Soren's shoulder. "You have taken enough of our guests time. Please see to your sisters. They are working on a project for your mother."

The boy seemed ready to protest, but Baros' glare shut his protestation down even before it could be expressed. With a slight push, he directed Brandyn towards the grand staircase, and turned to insure that the boy would actually leave their presence. When satisfied that he was going to obey, Baros turned back to the man who had surprised them with his visit.

"I have been told you are Cedric Grayson," Baros said with a tip of his head, "thank you for honouring our home with your presence. What can we do for you this day? If it is lodging you require I am afraid we are not open to...drop ins."

Baros had heard nearly every word of what Cedric had been saying to his son, and to say that the elder Sal-Soren was livid was an understatement. However, he hid it behind platitudes and diplomacy. Well. It was mostly hidden.

| Cedric Grayson |​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The change in the air was palpable. The elder Sal-Soren shooed his progeny away, and whatever kernels of wisdom Cedric might have sought to impart the boy with withered away with his departure. Faced with his true reason for coming here, Cedric was almost at a loss for words. He could sense the outrage seething off the Sal-Soren patriarch easily enough, despite his rather composed physical appearance. Whatever the exile had said, it was enough to thoroughly enrage his host.

"The honor is all mine Mister Sal-Soren," he bowed his head slightly, "I've come to offer several handmaidens with decades of experience. They'll work for their keep and more, if you'll have them. They're native Naboo, and my home has grown a bit too...violent for people of their age." Understatement of the century.

The Jedi's lips pressed into a thin line. "I apologize if I crossed any lines explaining my faith to the boy," he continued, addressing the elephant in the room. "I am sworn to share my knowledge of the lord to any that ask. To deny someone that wisdom is to deny the Ashla itself, but even still, transgressions are transgressions, and I intended none."

Baros Sal-Soren , Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Baros Sal-Soren]

"The children are dedicated to the goddess Shiraya," Baros said bluntly, and left that portion of the conversation alone. Baros didn't buy into the goddess Shiraya any more than he bought into Cedric's nonsense, but it was a convenient tool for the moment.

He paused, to show at least a consideration of the man's request regarding the elderly handmaidens. It certainly sounded like a noble thing to do, good for the public relations, but not something he was going to acquiesce too. "Mister Grayson. I am sure you can understand that this is my families home. And security here is of the utmost importance. It would hardly be right of me to take in staff without vetting them first. We are under constant threat from extremists...who have made multiple attempts on my families lives."

Pulling out his datapad, Baros tapped away on the screen, before glancing up. His finger had slid up to an option to send information to a nearby datapad.

"But, we have very efficient and humane refugee camps that are being used to process those displaced by the Bryn'adul encroachments. I will give you permission to drop your handmaidens off at one of the processing centres."

| Cedric Grayson |​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The Goddess Shiraya? Cedric had never heard of any such thing, perhaps a local Naboo custom. One way or the other, he was not in the business of trying to discredit the faiths of others. Not unless those faiths venerated the Bogan anyway, in which case they would need to be destroyed if at all possible.

"Extremists?" The Jedi lofted a brow. He was about in tune with Confederate politics as he was with his feminine side: that being not at all. Normally he would have protested to the mention of refugee camps, but that meant something different here than it did most of the galaxy. Naboo had a reputation for its charity, far more than its sister worlds. If the Sal-Sorren patriarch said they would be safe, then they would be safe.

"That would be helpful," he agreed, "Better than leaving them behind on Ruusan, but these extremists," he wasted little time in shifting the subject back, "Why would someone want to endanger your family? I'm not educated on any hard stances your house has."

Baros Sal-Soren

 

[Baros Sal-Soren]

Baros shot the details over to Cedric, and his mind their dealings were at end bar the farewells. However, Grayson seemed to want the conversation to continue. Baros did not. His anger alone was enough reason not to continue to indulge the zealot.

"Education is a lengthy process, Mister Grayson," he said, tone aloof and rather distant, "a process that I do not have time to undergo today."

Walking around the man, he went and stood beside the door with one hand resting on it as if getting ready to close the door.

"Shall we pray, before you leave?"

| Cedric Grayson |​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The exile exhaled a bit of air out of his nose in quiet amusement. The Sal-Soren patriarch really didn't have much care for him, which Cedric supposed was his right. He wouldn't have liked it if a stranger came to teach his children about a foreign religion either. His smile remained small and cordial as Baros essentially showed him the door.

"You do seem a busy man," Cedric muttered as he bowed his head. "I am no priest, but I can offer a blessing if nothing else. Ashla protect this family. Guide them, see them to prosperity, deliver them from those that would see them undone." A simple request. Cedric had never been one for asking much more than that of his gods.

"Let them walk in the Light," he concluded, his gaze meeting Baros' once more. "I'll take my leave then," Cedric hesitated for a moment, his lips half parted as he debated on keeping his final thoughts to himself. In the end he did, turning away to return to the speeder if he was not stopped.

Baros Sal-Soren

 

[Baros Sal-Soren]

Every word that proceeded from Cedric's mouth only rankled Baros' ire even more. There were numerous things he wanted to say. Most involved some form of cursing. However, he had not been raised to be so ill-tempered. HIs training in life had brought at least a modicum of control in these moments.

Baros simply bowed to the words of the man. For he certainly did not wish ill upon the family, and for that he was glad. Cedric could keep all the Ashla garbage to himself though.

"Farewell, Mister Grayson."

| Cedric Grayson | Briana Sal-Soren |​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Crouched down in the shadows, Briana waited until the visage of her father fully disappeared before making her daring move to try and approach the stranger who'd sent the Estate a'buzz (more specifically, her brother and Dav), jogging lightly to catch up to the man.

"So," she began casually, glancing cautiously over her shoulder to ensure her father hadn't decided to come back for some reason. When the coast seemed well and truly clear, her spine straightened and the genetically trade marked smirk spread across her lips, very Corellian in style, much like her father. "You're the Jedi I overheard Bran telling my mother all about? Wanted to come and see for myself what all the fuss was over." Briana glanced out the corner of her eye, giving this scarred guy a once over. Her tawny head tilted, her posture shifting slightly. "I thought Jedi were all about servitude, ugly robes, dower expressions, and all that. But,"

There was a tingling sensation in the back of her skull, an essence that was all at once familiar, yet foreign. Briana's curiosity piqued a bit, but the eldest of the Sal-Soren children refused to let it show in her expression. It took a lot more to make her feel star-struck. "You don't look like any Jedi that I've ever seen."

Baros Sal-Soren | Cedric Grayson ​

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The handmaidens would have somewhere to go, so at the very least this wasn't a loss. Even still, as Cedric turned to wander back to his speeder, he couldn't help but feel like this was a wasted opportunity. The thought was a selfish one, of course,. The boy would have a much better life in an estate like this than he would learning the mysteries of the empyrean. For all the satisfaction that came with its mastery, the path was an unpleasant one. It was no wonder, especially lately, that so many young Jedi had fallen to the Dark Side. When all the galaxy could offer was war, what place did a peacekeeper have in it?

His private musings were interrupted by footfalls coming from the estate. The exile cocked a brown and turned slowly toward the girl, his arms folding behind the small of his back as he settled. "I don't?" He asked, a hint of amusement lacing his words, "I can go get a change of clothes if you'd prefer."

This one was marked just like the boy, and similarly so. Two branches of the same tree - kin in one way or another. "My life is service. That does not mean I have to grovel while doing it," he added, grey eyes darting past the girl for a moment back toward her home. "Mister Sal-Soren didn't seem particularly keen on what I had to say."

Briana Sal-Soren , Brandyn Sal-Soren