Tython – why not?

[Elmont Block]

In your early years, the flow of the Force might seem frightening, shocking. Find balance between its light and dark facets, and the flow will become a powerful stillness. Struggle against the Force, and your body rebels; fight with the Force and you have the universe on your side.

— Temple Master Vor’Dana, Stav Kesh, 10,441 TYA

Elmont had never been to Tython. Since he ran away from the AgriCorps, he’d done various odd jobs and scraped together enough credits for a ship that always landed as if it were its last flight. But he always made just enough credits to patch it up – and had even managed to pick up an old mech-droid that helped out when it felt like it. He would have had its memory wiped if he hadn’t found the little fellow’s company so appealing. Travelling the galaxy alone – as a young boy – was an adventure for a while, but then a chore. He longed to be taught more of the ways of the Force and his current activities would never achieve that. H drew the line at smuggling but many of the cargo runs he undertook were often shady and invariably dangerous. Often he was the only pilot foolhardy enough to accept the contract for such low pay.

But today’s trip was for himself. He’d heard that the planet was Force-rich and he wanted to investigate. He was no longer comfortable with his strength and balance in the Force.

He swung out of his cot and stretched. He reached for the ceiling and grabbed the bars he’d welded there, pulling up, breathing softly, then lifting his legs and stretching them out until he was horizontal to the floor. His muscles quivered, and he breathed deeply as he felt the Force flowing through him, a vibrant, living thing. Mental exercise and meditation were all well and good, but sometimes he simply enjoyed exerting himself physically.

The alarm was still ringing in his ears.

“You can switch that off,” he said, easing himself slowly back to the floor, “I’m up, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

The alarm silenced, and a dirty and slightly rusty green maintenance droid wheeled into view. It was a very simple droid, in theory capable of limited communication with a human master and other duties not necessarily exclusive to ship maintenance. But the droid had either lost the ability to communicate – or as Elmont surmised, he’d chosen to shut the function down. He spoke to it, its replies limited to either doing what was asked or not, and they co-existed. Given it came with the ship, he often wondered if it saw him as the passenger and not the other way around.

“How long to Tython?” he asked.

The droid let out a series of whines and clicks. This was not communication, as many droids were programmed to do, but the mechanical equivalent of sighs and shoulder shrugs. The droid didn’t like to be asked too many questions.

“Right,” Elmont said. “Suppose I’d better check myself.” He moved forwards in the ship and then brushed a touch pad and the darkened screens in the forward cockpit faded to clear, revealing a star-speckled view. There was something so profound about the scale of what he saw out there, and it was as if the Force never let him forget that he was a part of something incomprehensibly large.

She touched the pad again and a red glow appeared, surrounding a speck in the distance. Tython. Three hours and he’d be there.

--- --- ---​

Washed, dressed, and fed – well after a fashion – Elmont sat in the ship’s cockpit and watched Tython drawing closer. His ship had communicated with sentry drones orbiting the planet and was now performing a graceful parabola that would take it down into the atmosphere.

He was nervous about visiting Tython, but part of him was excited too. He’d not visited a formal Jedi site since he’d left the AgriCorps so abruptly and so the mixed feelings fought for supremacy before calling it an honourable draw.

He checked the coordinates and switched the flight computer to manual, eager to make the final approach himself. He had always loved flying and the freedom it gave him. Untethered. A free agent. It summed up his life at present.

Elmont closed his eyes briefly and breathed with the Force. It was strong this close to Tython, elemental, and it sparked his senses alive. By the time the ship sliced into Tython’s outer atmosphere, Elmont’s excitement was growing. He guided his ship in an elegant arc and landed almost without a jolt.

“Solid ground. I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but take the opportunity to run a full systems check.”

The droid emitted another mechanical sigh.

Elmont probed gently outward, and when he sensed that the air pressures had equalized, he opened the lower hull hatch. The smells that flooded in – fresh grass, running water, that curious charged smell that seemed to permeate the atmosphere around Jedi temples – brought a rush of nostalgia he hadn’t been expecting.

Close to the sea on the southern coast of Masara, he’d located the Bodhi Temple and its surrounding settlement – both now long deserted, even before the Sith took the planet from the Republic. It was once a centre for learning for the arts: for music, prose, poetry, as well as the visual arts of painting and scuplting.

It was a fine and sunny day, and the sky was clear. Tythos blazed above, giving the planet both heat and light. He felt without even consciously sensing, the Force binding him and his surroundings together. And he glanced around, not expecting to see anyone and for the first time wondering why he’d come here.

[member="Tiland Kortun"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Elmont Block"]
----------------

Somebody was coming- the message rippled through the air, through the wind, and through the grasses that swayed against his tunic. Tiland stopped what he was doing, holding the bundle of wood in his arms. It was made of thick lumber, harvested and milled from trees that had fallen in the last storm. Some of it was too small for construction use and had been set aside as firewood. Others were perfectly sized, with a little work.

It had surprised the other members of the Church of the Force to see Tiland, normally an elderly looking man, carrying such large piles of wood and the muscles that stood out against his arms. A Jedi was not defined by age, nor did it weaken them. Like the ancient oaks instead, they grew stronger with age- more attuned to the Force, strengthened by it, and carried. That and centuries of manual labor had hardened his body.

But he had put in the work for it, especially here on Tython, pouring the Force into the glade and the surrounding forests, turning them into places resplendent with greenery and life. He had worked as well on the small compound, helping the erect the small enclave. It had begun with a small meditation temple- simple and austere on the inside, with cushions made from nearby plants. He had built right next to a small stream, with a garden winding along the edge of the water.

It was quite beautiful, in a simple way, but that was the way of the Jedi. Elegance and beauty in the simplicity.

But now they had a new visitor. He set down the pile of wood by the newest building, a small dormitory for the members to dwell in without being exposed to the extreme elements. They'd need something more sturdy for a Force storm, but that was beyond what he could build.

He picked up his staff and closed his eyes, settling in the Force. Tiland's awareness spread out to encompass the region, seeking this new visitor. There was a presence over by the old, ruined temple. Perhaps in time they would resettle there, but that took more resources than the Church currently had. If the Force willed it, so they would do. But not yet.

He strode off through the trees, weaving his way through the forest, following the presence of the visitor. As he walked, thoughts drifted through his mind. What was the purpose of the Church of the Force? Somehow he had found himself as its leader, setting its vision and goals. Perhaps it was because he had a vision- for the Church and for the Jedi, especially. But they were not so different. Only their methods differed. He mulled this and its implications for some time until he reached the landing area.

A young Jedi was looking around, clearly in awe of the surroundings. Tiland smiled beneath his beard. Tython had a way of doing that to those who visited it for the first time. But this one seemed... Tiland considered what he felt radiating through the Force. Awe, confusion, but also a sense of directionlessness. He smiled softly, sympathy building. He too had known that feeling of being cut off from the Order and having to make his own way around the galaxy.

"Well met, Wayfarer," Tiland said after several long moments, his voice deep and rich. "I am Knight Tiland Kortun. Welcome to Tython. Is there anything for which you are purposefully seeking?"

He was no expert on the world yet, but he had a general sense of where things were and what could be found on its surface. For some of the places, he stayed far away from, however. They were dangerous, even for Jedi. Or perhaps, especially for Jedi. They were rich and twisted with the Dark Side.

 

[Elmont Block]

Elmont spun around as his senses identified he was no longer alone. He was a Padawan, and one who hadn’t had any formal training for a number of years, so his use of the Force abilities he knew was rusty at best. He’d sensed the man was here, but not that he’d approached him. In fact, Elmont had no idea how long he’d been there.

“Well met,” Elmont returned in kind. In truth he wasn’t even a Padawan. He was a Youngling that had never been accepted by a Knight for training. But even a Youngling that had fallen off the training wagon a few years since could recognise the aura of a powerful and wise Jedi. Elmont wasn’t precisely scared, but he felt a combination of uncomfortable and nervous. Running away from the AgriCorps was not precisely the best way to end your relationship with the Jedi, although he understood that the Republic Jedi were no more, or at least no longer a visible entity.

Elmont bowed out of habit – albeit it was a few years since he’d last performed the act – some things clearly being deep-rooted in the psyche. And the question puzzled him. Not the words, the meaning of the question was clear enough. His mind wanted to consider the question, to puzzle over the best answer. But his mouth was not part of the agreement and it shared his innermost thoughts without his direct permission.

“I don’t know. I mean, something compelled me to come here. Or at least I think it did. But why here, I have no idea. Or why anywhere for that matter. But I feel drawn to an answer – I just don’t know what the question is yet.”

[member="Tiland Kortun"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Elmont Block"]

Tiland returned the bow with one of his own, robes swishing against his boots, but a smile twitched beneath his beard. The young Jedi always amused him, it had been so long since he had been in their shoes. Older Jedi always carried a significant gravitas about them, which, when he had been young, had been intimidating. Such a stoic stillness and confidence in one's place in the universe. He'd never been able to understand how that was possible.

He took a seat on a nearby chunk of rock and gestured for Elmont to take a seat if desired. Pulling on his beard, he listened to the boy's words.

"Well met indeed," he began, processing Elmont's words and the meaning behind it. He plucked a strand of grass from the ground next to him, holding it up in front of his eyes to study it. It needed more water, but was in no danger yet. He held the blade of grass up in front of Elmont.

"Why does the grass grow to the sunlight?" He raised an eyebrow and watched Elmont for several moments. He had an answer for that, one that would be relevant to the discussion even. But he wanted his young friend to find the answer itself. "In that answer, I think, you shall find the question for your own answer."

The grass grew towards the sun because it was what it needed to do. Why? That was far less simple. But that was the Jedi way- one of simplicity and yes, of contemplation, but also following one's instincts in the Force when it needed one to do something. It sounded to him that the Force had compelled the youngster to come to Tython for purposes yet unknown to either one of them. That was a different answer for a different question.

He pulled a thermos of hot water out of his satchel and a bag of tea leaves, crumbling them together into a scrap of muslin, tied off with another blade of grass. When it came to deep discussions, he was a firm believer in the importance of tea. He had another question for him now, looking up with a slight frown.

"What did you say your name was again?"

 

[Elmont Block]

Elmont felt uncomfortable. It was not in his nature to lie – and even less so to a Jedi. As a Youngling he’d learned that there was no deceiving a Master or even a Knight. There was something about your emotions that leaked when you told a lie. At least in Elmont’s experience. Of course, he knew there were people all over the galaxy that were able to deceive even a Grandmaster, but Jedi to Jedi it was very difficult.

So he was being open with the bearded man – and was finding the experience awkward to say the least. He owed the Jedi nothing. In his mind they owed him a lot – an awful lot – but still here he was, acting subservient, as if he was in some way guilty. Which of course he was – if running away from the AgriCorps counted. But in his mind, they’d abandoned him, not the other way around. It was their loss and if a Jedi Order knew what was good for them, they’d come crawling to have him join them as a Padawan.

Not that Elmont vocalised any of these thoughts.

When the bearded man sat, Elmont followed suit. He was tempted to stand just to show defiance and independence, but there was no telling how long the conversation would last, so he decided comfort overrode pride.

Elmont’s eyes rolled. Plain speaking! Why did old Jedi have to speak in riddles? But as much as he wanted to ignore the question, the intellectual part of him wanted to know the answer. To be seen to know the answer.

“The grass needs the sunlight. Or else it will perish. Left in the shade, grass becomes pale and will stop growing and then eventually die. Are you saying I will die if I do not return to the Jedi fold?”

Elmont scratched the stubble pf his chin. He did not allow the man to respond to his words before speaking again. “But is that why? It is a product, an outcome – but I’m not sure it’s why the grass behaves the way it does. It does not choose to grow in this manner, it has no conscious ability to choose a different path. Perhaps that is the ‘why’. Maybe that is my ‘why’. It is simply its destiny. Wind, rain, any manner of forces cannot deter it – even though they could logically overpower it.”

Elmont’s eyes moved from the blade of grass to the man’s face. “Or am I simply talking spiritual and philosophical nonsense. Am I selfish and simply wanting more training and can’t think of a better place to go?”

His eyes were the purest and most transparent of blues – in contrast to the rough and dishevelled look of the rest of him. “Elmont,” he added – belatedly. “It’s Elmont Block.”

[member="Tiland Kortun"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Elmont Block"]

As the young man pondered and rolled the thoughts around in his mind, Tiland sat and slowly stirred the bag of tea-laves in the thermos, watching as the water around it went from clear to a light, grassy green. He nodded as Elmont spoke, but kept his focus on the tea. At least, that was what it looked like. He inhaled, letting the steam waft through the air into his nostrils. But his mind had reached out with the Force, sensing the hue and roll of the boy's thoughts. Proud they were, but confused, perhaps even lost. Conflicted, but not dark. In a sense, he was a young man.

Tiland nodded as Elmont finished speaking and looked up, smiling.

"Now, that is the question, is it not? Which of the answers are true?" He leaned back in his seat and poured a second cup of brewing tea and handed it to Elmont. "Truth in the Force is a strange thing when it comes to destiny."

He paused to think about it a little further.

"The grass grows towards the sun because it knows that is what it must do," his voice rumbled softly through the air, "It does not know why, only that is what it is. The Force is a mysterious thing and its ripples and currents are often unseen by us."

He smiled.

"Or, I do not know what has brought you here or why. Only that the Force has willed us to meet here."

He took a sip of tea.

"Very pleased to meet you, Elmont. What sort of training might you be referring to?"

 

[Elmont Block]

Elmont wanted to sigh, or drum his fingers on something. What was it with Jedi Masters that wanted to always be so inscrutable? They must get taught at the Temple how to stretch a pause for dramatic effect Elmont figured. But he was here, and the Jedi was here, so he pushed his desire for immediacy down and awaited a response.

Elmont strangled a scream at the Jedi’s first words. Wisdom came with age, Elmont was sure of this, but simply repeating a question back at the speaker was not, in Elmont’s opinion, insight. A delaying tactic maybe. A hope of suggesting you knew something that you in fact had no understanding of perhaps? But once again he held his tongue and allowed the Jedi to continue.

Elmont took the tea. He’d been used to drinking beverages from the worst cantinas at some of the most rundown spaceports in the galaxy – this had to be better.

He took a sip. It tasted like flavoured water, which in a sense it was. Nothing to get too excited about but nothing to dislike either. It was hot and refreshing, so he took a second sip. Compared to the words of wisdom he’d heard so far, it was the best thing about the encounter thus far.

Elmont took a third sip and then shrugged. “Anything. Which sounds desperate, right? What I mean is that I will take any learning you are able to impart. Or at least guide my self-learning so that I may develop. I learned the basics a few years ago but they’ve fallen into disuse. And as you can see, I don’t have a saber, so I haven’t even been able to keep up on those skills.”

“So tell me, what are your strengths as a Jedi and as a teacher?"

"Please," he added by way of an afterthought.

[member="Tiland Kortun"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Elmont Block"]

Tiland hid the amused smile beneath his beard and mustache. The impatience of youth was an excellent motivator, but would not, in the end, make a good Jedi of the boy. But patience in the small things led to patience in the big things. It just took took time to mature and for the brain to finish developing. He took another sip of tea, considering.

"Not desperate, no. But..." He paused again for the right words. "Eager for knowledge. That is a good thing as long as it does not consume you in a thirst for power." His voice was grave and low at the comment. He had seen it many times among his people who feasted on the soup of others. It was an addiction that could never satisfy and ultimately brought imbalance and a fall.

"But as for you, I think I can teach you as you need." There was a slight twinkle in his eye and a hint of a joke , but only for a second before becoming completely serious again. "I have highly skilled in the ways of meditation, which is the foundation for all later aspects, healing and that of growing things. If you wish, like most youths your age, for the thrill of battle, I have several hundred years of experience in unarmed and quarterstaff use." He smiled wanly. "I was there when the Alliance raided Coruscant for the first time. Also telepathy, mind tricks, illusions, and some bit of telekinesis."

He shook his head to clear it. "And for the spiritual or philosophical aspect, I am also quite knowledgeable. My strength as a teacher lies primarily in getting students to push their minds and learn how to seek and find their own answers." Another pause. "Also many centuries worth of brewing tea, which-" He raised his eyebrows and have Elmont a severe look. "Which is a serious, but neglected, art among Jedi in the galaxy and one that has many uses and observations that can be gleaned from its subtleties."

That time the twinkle and smile were obvious as he finished his mug of tea, savoring the rich flavor. "So, Elmont. What do you think?"

 

[Elmont Block]

Elmont listened. Despite his strong-will and absolute assurance in his own knowledge, he was typically respectful when it came to listening. How much he agreed with was always up for debate, but he’d always pay full attention.

And as he heard the wise Jedi’s words, he wondered if there was an element of humour in the advice. Was the bearded man toying with him, or maybe patronising him? Or was this just banter and the Jedi was in a friendly way testing him.

Elmont was unsure and he had to admit he didn’t like that feeling. He was usually super-confident in his views on every subject under the galaxy’s suns. But today he felt…wanting. It reminded him of being a Youngling again. Of learning subjects for the first time and developing an understanding through trial and error and through a combination of research and instinct.

But right now he felt underprepared for the conversation. He wanted – no ‘needed’ answers and the Jedi was bouncing them back as if he, Elmont, should know. Yes, he knew it was an old Jedi trick. And he also knew the value of it, which was why he chose not to react negatively but instead reflect and answer fully and with absolute candour.

“I do not believe I am here just to learn. My hopes are not personal, not selfish in any way that I can tell. I am ready to serve – but as a Jedi. Does that sound as though it is on my own terms? Perhaps, maybe more than perhaps. But I do not want to be helping out AgriCorps my entire life. I will do refugee relief and mundane tasks anywhere and at any time – just not all of the time. I feel, instinctively,” Elmont touched his stomach and then his head, “That is not my calling. I am not destined for greatness; I am not deluded. But mediocrity sits equally uneasily in my mind. I can and will make a difference.”

He sucked in a lungful of air – his body aware he’d been talking without breathing. “Your teaching will be entirely acceptable. I understand the value of meditation and the techniques unlocking the various abilities affords. Your experience will be invaluable in my teaching. And unarmed combat is something that I have never been fully trained in. And illusions are something I would appreciate guidance in. As for the remainder? I suspect practise holds the key there – and the opportunity to fix any bad habits collected in my time since I was last at an Academy.”

“Which is what I think.” He purposefully neglected discussing the subject of tea-making. “And leads me to my own question. What do you expect and require of me?”

[member="Tiland Kortun"]