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Sithspawn
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Sithspawn is an intermediate to advanced play-by-post role-playing forum. Set in the immensely rich Star Wars universe, the game takes place some years after 3,000 Before Battle of Yavin. For more information on the Timeline, History and events on Sithspawn please browse the links under Navigation.

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 Those Left Behind, Closed to any Padawans
Callan Lash
Posted: Nov 1 2008, 11:01 PM
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Shyrack
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Group: Jedi Order
Posts: 154
Member No.: 437
Joined: 9-August 08



Even for a day on Shedu Maad, Callan was bored. Now that the redoubt was empty, due to the fact that all of the Knights had gone off to fight, it was very quiet. Callan had spent a good portion of the morning researching the datapads on diferent lightsaber forms. He had all but promised himself that he would make himself a guard shoto...or two. A combination of two seemed to be the best way to go for equal offense and defense.

After a while though, Callan got bored of reading from the library's datapads. He felt the need to go and train his body. Master Norghar probably would have expected it of him, and just because his Master wasn't around didn't mean that he was going to get lazy. The Padawan had wanted desperately to go to Korriban to fight this new threat, not because of some kind of blood lust, but because he wanted to be there to help anyone who needed it. He hadn't been there for his old Master when he died, and he didn't want the same thing to happen to Garth.

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A few hours later found Callan in a training room. His upper robes were removed and he was now only wearing a light colored pair of pants. He was dripping from head to toe with perspiration and was panting slightly. His well-defined muscles were tensed and showing that he had exerted himself very recently. He'd just finished doing quite a few pull-ups and inverted push-ups. His arms were quite tired, but that was no reason to stop.

He took a glance at the small, furry figure that was curled up on top of his robes. He had taken the liberty of going out to Corellia with a pilot (whom he promised a good ship washing) and bought a Sand Panther. She was quite adorable, with her sandy fur and her little blemish. One of the kitten's ears was a bright silver color and was in stark contrast with the rest of her body.

He'd taken a while on the way back to the redoubt to think of a name for her. The pilot that took him spoke a smattering of Mandalorian and suggest Meshla. It was short for Mesh'la, which was Mando'a for 'beautiful'. Callan had thought it to fit perfectly, and that became her name.

Wiping some sweat from his brow, Callan brought his lightsaber to him with a light pull from the Force. Once it found his hand, he ignited the bright green blade and placed himself in the opening stance of Shii-Cho. He would have tried Ataru, but it was much more difficult to practice without a sparring partner.

After quite a while of going through the basic motions and some of the more complex motions of Shii-Cho, Callan became too worn out to train his body any further. It would just have to wait for another day or so.

Placing his lightsaber back by his shirt and making sure that his traditional Padawan ponytail was in place, Callan moved barefoot to the center of the training room. He sat down, sweat still dripping, and crossed his legs in the standard meditative stance. With his hands resting lightly on his knees, Callan emptied his mind of all thoughts and emotions and began meditating.

He felt the sparse few beings in the redoubt, including Meshla, who was dozing quietly on his upper robes. She was so little, but she gave off a force signature just like everything else in the galaxy. Callan sensed someone moving closer to the training room, but paid them no heed. If they came in, he would acknowledge them, but not before that.


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user posted image





Name:
Callan Lash

Faction
Jedi Order

Class
Guardian

Rank
Jedi Knight

Former Master
Garth Norghar

Weapons
Green Guard Shoto x2
Silver Lightsaber
Electrostaff
Model 22T4 Hold-Out Blaster

Starships
None

Items
Comlink
Utility Belt
Datapad
Cortosis Weave Forearm Guards
Jal Shay Advisor Armor
PMEmail Poster
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Seras Amadis
Posted: Nov 2 2008, 11:44 PM
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Tuk'ata
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Group: Neutral
Posts: 270
Member No.: 378
Joined: 18-June 08



Seras could feel the other padawans and the few minder Jedi left behind to watch them. Though not all were known to her, she could feel all of their signatures on the varying levels of their new temple on Shedu Maad. The silence in her mind was deafening. Even though the Order's numbers waned, she couldn't remember a time that a temple had been so abandoned. It was staggering how much sensory input Seras could process through her mindsight. Many would have been disorientated with such all encompassing vision, luckily she had grown with this sight and it was no different to her than if she had eyes to see. It could be distracting at times, but again, that was something she had lived with her entire life and shutting the senses from her mind came naturally and was taken for granted.

The padawan rested in a walled courtyard, sequestered far to the periphery of the complex, wanting to be alone to her thoughts. She sat amongst the greenery with her legs crossed and hands resting in her lap. Her head bowed and silver blonde hair adorned with thick wrappings, braids, beads, and other trinkets fell about her troubled and blindfolded features.

This war had cut her on a number of levels. The wanton destruction and the needless waste of life all weighed heavily on Padawan Amadis' mind. But what weighed on her mind the most and troubled her so deeply was how quickly the Jedi turned to violence in response to this problem. She had believed and been taught theirs to be a peaceful order. That was now called into question and Seras Amadis felt sick to the pit of her stomach with what was transpiring in their name... in the name of peace. She questioned her place within the Order. Never before had she been so conflicted. How could she have been so at odds with their decision?

Suddenly being alone was the last thing she wanted. Even though Master Stone and his Seras hadn't seen eye to eye on a few things, she found herself wanting of his council. She didn't just want to understand, she needed to. Thinking of her master reminded Seras he was waging war over Korriban now. She had tried to tell herself that this was the true path and that this needed to be done. Each time she did so, a little part of her died and she knew it was a lie. Their fallen brethren needn't be eradicated like vermin.

Rising from her meditative posture in the courtyard, Seras left the comforting plant life she had tried to occupy her thoughts with and set out into the redoubt. She walked for a while, moving towards the closest Force signature she could detect. The signature had been training earlier, training to kill, Seras reminded herself. Now the signature had entered meditation. It was times like this she vowed never to finish the construction of her lightsaber. To be without the dreadful weapon was to be without the temptation to use it. The realist in Seras knew that wasn't an option, Master Stone had said as much.

She stood outside the room, observing her fellow padawan's meditation and took in the training area and its contents before entering.
"Hey," Seras commented with a lackluster wave of her hand.


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Nereus Sark
Posted: Nov 3 2008, 06:43 AM
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Meditating was always something he’d enjoyed, even when he had still been a moody and withdrawn five-year old: there was something relaxing about letting himself flow into the Force. All his worries and unnecessary emotions bled away in the current, giving place to the calm serenity he’d become used to. It had been nearly a year since Master Veradis had died, but even after the worst of his grief he’d kept the habit to meditate every morning: his thoughts seemed crisper and cleaner afterwards. He could barely feel his surroundings anymore, his senses becoming just a distant thread of sensations burrowed in the back of his mind – acknowledged but no paid attention to.

In his usual unorthodox fashion, his old master had given him a different vision of meditation than most Jedi held –while most of the Order looked at it as a mere tool to delve into the mysteries of the Force Geram Veradis had followed the belief that the Living Force was to be the guide of a Jedi over even the directives of the Council, hence making meditation crucial to the mentality and development of his student. Of course, the Council had slightly different opinions on the matter, but his master had never cared much about the opinions of what he called “stuffy old men that have been sitting in their chairs for too long”. Nereus would always follow that remark by pointing out that Master Veradis was hardly one in a position to needle others about their age, inevitably earning himself a slap behind the head and a smile. The knot in his stomach that usually followed this kind of memories never came, the sadness instead dissipating into the peace. Death was the consequence of life, and his mentor’s way had been a good one to go – quietly merging to the Force after a long and fulfilling life. Nereus would continue to honour his memory and follow his teachings, that much would never change.

Letting himself emerge of his trance with a sigh, the Kiffu padawan lazily opened his eyes. One of the few upsides of being without a teacher was that he was able to choose how he spent his time, within reasonable measure – though he missed the reassuring feeling of guidance, he supposed it was part of growing up to learn to let go of it. Then again his inability to let go and not to get attached had always been one of his greatest weaknesses as a Jedi. He wasn’t greedy or selfish, he was simply naturally empathetic towards others – psychometry had made him see through the eyes of other people too often for such a habit not to be born. Getting up gracefully, he grasped the pair of black gloves on his drawer before putting them as he’d been doing every morning for the last fourteen years.

It was somewhat disgraceful he still hadn’t regained control of his psychometry even after all these years, but his reputation as a prodigy had shut up his most fierce critics while his cheerful disposition put the masses on his side. Some healers had postulated that the control would only be attained when he got over his parent’s death, the thought bringing a grim smile to his face – he’d witnessed their brutal murder through the eyes of their very killer, so he wasn’t about to attain peace of mind about it any time soon.

Quickly putting on a set of his grey-brown robes, Nereus left his quarters for the corridors without a particular destination on his mind. He’d normally try to hunt down an apprentice-less Knight with free time for some training, but with the assault on Korriban going on, most of those had left for the battle. The Temple was unusually deserted and the absence of presences that usually characterized it made the young man slightly uneasy. It was like wandering alone in your home: the smallest sounds made you jump and feel silly about it. Not to mention the Kiffu was a naturally social individual, the lack of people to mingle with affected him more than most. Stopping suddenly when he felt a familiar presence, Nereus came face to face with one of the most commonly used training rooms.

The durasteel doors opened when he pushed on the control panel, revealing the familiar silhouette of Callan Lash in a meditation pose. Another padawan he was unfamiliar with but briefly remembered being called Sera, Seris or something of the sort stood in the entrance. He’d talked with Callan once or twice in the past – indeed, there weren’t enough padawans in the Order for one not to know everyone at least by sight – but never much more than that. The desire for company emanating from the female padawan’s presence mirroring his own, he strolled inside almost hesitantly, the metallic doors closing behind him with a soft hiss. He smiled easily to the unknown padawan before plopping himself on the floor, resting his back against the cool wall. He broke the silence a moment after in his usual cheerful voice.

“It’s unnaturally quiet with all the older Jedi away, isn’t it? I’m Nereus Sark, but someone with a dubious sense of humour started the habit to call me Snarky. I’m afraid I don’t have the honour of knowing your name, though.”
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Callan Lash
Posted: Nov 4 2008, 04:51 AM
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Shyrack
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Group: Jedi Order
Posts: 154
Member No.: 437
Joined: 9-August 08



As Callan meditated, he began following whoever was taking steps to come to the training room that he was currently sitting in. He felt them coming, and made an attempt to figure out who it was before he ever saw them. It wasn't too familiar to him though, but there was something there that made him feel as if he should know the person. Of course, they were probably a Padawan as well, seeing as nearly every Knight and Master were en route to Korriban at the moment, to fight off the Dark Jedi. He began taking wild guesses at who would be coming to the training room, but seriously doubted that he was anywhere close to correct.

Just before the person entered, he sensed another Force signature coming towards the training room. He didn't have time to recognize that person either, before he heard a voice from the doorway.

Callan's eyes snapped open. He smiled a bit to himself when he realized how far off his guesses had been. Quite honestly, he never would have expected Seras to be in an athletic training room. He recognized her...they were the same age and in the same class afterall, and he knew that she abhorred any form of fighting or violence whatsoever. Even if he didn't completely agree with her views, he had to respect her for sticking to her beliefs in the way that she did.

When she spoke, he stood up smiling.

"Hey, Seras."

After unfolding himself from his meditative stance, he walked over to where his upper robes were. He picked Meshla up, disturbing the kitten's sleep, and grabbed his robes. Callan slid them on over his shoulders and quickly tied the sash around his waist. Even though Seras was a Miraluka, and therefore blind, he didn't neccesarily want to be indecent around her.

"What brings you in here?"

Quickly after he spoke his question, the other signature that he'd detected walked into the room. He recognized the Kiffar immediately. He was usually good with names, even with those whom with he had never spoken to. He and Nereus had carried on a few conversations though, and he knew his face. Callan wouldn't have gone so far as to call them friends, but they had met and spoken a fair amount of times. Sark was the same age as he and Seras and had also recently lost a Master. It was sad how many Jedi were being lost recently. Many more would be gone after the battle on Korriban...

He gave Nereus a smile and a nod.

"Long time no see, Nereus. How have you been?"

He knew Sark's nickname all too well, but he wasn't normally one to use nicknames. Unless of course, the person preferred the nickname to their own, but he wasn't sure about Nereus.

Callan smiled again at the two of them, happy to have some company. These were tough times, especially very recently, and it was always good to have those of your own age to speak with.


--------------------
user posted image





Name:
Callan Lash

Faction
Jedi Order

Class
Guardian

Rank
Jedi Knight

Former Master
Garth Norghar

Weapons
Green Guard Shoto x2
Silver Lightsaber
Electrostaff
Model 22T4 Hold-Out Blaster

Starships
None

Items
Comlink
Utility Belt
Datapad
Cortosis Weave Forearm Guards
Jal Shay Advisor Armor
PMEmail Poster
Top
Seras Amadis
Posted: Nov 7 2008, 05:18 AM
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Tuk'ata
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Group: Neutral
Posts: 270
Member No.: 378
Joined: 18-June 08



"Hey, Seras."

She forced a smile to the surface through her thinly veiled displeasure. She wasn’t angry or displeased with Callan, far from it. However, she did believe him to be a little too zealous and eager to dish out the violence. There were rumours floating around the redoubt that Callan had killed a dozen Gungans in some tribal contest. Padawan Amadis prayed to the Force that was an exaggeration at least, and a bold face lie at best. Engaging in such a brutal and savage contest was something that Seras could never imagine herself doing. But then again, she wasn’t known for her skill with the blade; her lightsaber still sat in pieces in her room. Her talents were far more ethereal in nature.

"What brings you in here?"

Seras shrugged her shoulders, letting them slouch a little. She fell backwards and let her shoulders hit the wall behind her. There was a dull thud and the decorated strands of hair jingled loudly before settling into place.
"I dunno," the padawan admitted quietly, never looking in Callan’s direction. This wasn’t out of arrogance or lack of manners, though many would have assumed such. Looking others in the eyes was a concept completely alien to the young Jedi. She was focused and her Jedi sibling received a significant portion of her attention. It was just difficult to know what exactly the Miraluka was attentive to. "I guess I was just a little lonely. I’ve never seen a temple so quiet before."

"It’s unnaturally quiet with all the older Jedi away, isn’t it? I’m Nereus Sark, but someone with a dubious sense of humour started the habit to call me Snarky. I’m afraid I don’t have the honour of knowing your name, though."

Seras had felt another padawan’s approach and had been expecting his presence for a while now. They had never met before, but that wasn’t a surprise. She wasn’t much for socializing, another character trait that added to her aloofness. He seemed to mimic her thoughts on the redoubt’s emptiness and hearing her thoughts voiced from another send a chill of apprehension down her spine. It wasn’t just unnaturally quiet, it was deathly quiet. Her mood darkened again, reminded of why this so called place of peace was left to a skeleton crew.
"Yes... it is," agreed Seras in a quiet tone, keeping her more outlandish thoughts of Jedi barbarism to herself. No doubt the other padawans would pick up on something, but she had been in the presence of those who could sense emotions and read minds long enough to keep her truly personal thoughts to herself.

She smiled a little as Nereus introduced himself, speaking eloquently in silken tones. Again, she didn’t look in the padawan’s direction, her pale features fixed on some obscure point in the room that didn’t deserve such scrutiny. Her mindsight, however, was more than compensating for her lack of vision. She doubted such an 'honour', as Nereus put it, existed. Such language should be saved for the presence of the Jedi Masters, those who truly deserved such admiration. Her thoughts darkened again and thin worry lines creased her brow and cheeks. Did they deserve such admiration after declaring the death of a world? Seras was quick to shake of her melancholy and smiled wide, trying to hide her indecisions and doubts.
"Seras Amadis," she responded finally, turning her head a little in his direction. "It’s nice to meet you."


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Nereus Sark
Posted: Nov 8 2008, 07:43 AM
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Unregistered









"Long time no see, Nereus. How have you been?"

The Kiffar smiled wryly, shrugging to display his helplessness towards his current unassigned status.

“Trying to stay busy, the same as usual: there’s not much to do before the Council assigns me to a new Master. I hear you’ve been the same - introducing plywood to the Gungan diplomacy process, wasn’t it?,” he teased lightly.

While he fiercely doubted anyone could ever replace Master Veradis as his first teacher and mentor, he looked forward to the perspective of having a new teacher with a mix of apprehension and dread: his old mentor had been an unusual Master and a lot of his quirks and beliefs had been passed on to Nereus himself. If he was assigned one of the more traditional teachers, the end result would be unpleasant to say the least, as he had no intention whatsoever of changing the attitude he’d been taught in order to fit the views of the Council.

"Yes... it is,"

As the female padawan quietly answered his introduction, the Kiffar took the time to study her properly, taking in her slender face and long light hair. Petite but pleasantly curved, she stood at least a few inches shorter than him, although to evaluate exactly how much from his seat on the floor was impossible. She was quite the beauty, and her bandaged eyes added a touch of exotic taste to the ensemble. Nereus waved aside such mundane thoughts, mildly irritated at himself that he noted these kinds of things – it was distasteful for a Jedi to do so, even when it was about another Jedi.

His straying attention did not prevent him from noticing the quick flash of emotions that came before the words, however. He’d always been one of the most sensitive padawans and his skills at reading people were unmatched in his age group. Apprehension he’d felt clearly - perhaps he’d hit a nerve with his comment about how empty the Temple was? – and a more complicated feeling afterwards, with a negative taste to it. He raised an eyebrow when she shielded her mind immediately afterwards, but refrained from commenting: it wasn’t his place to pry in her personal affairs, no matter how intrigued he was.
She seemed to trail off for a bit, her presence darkening slightly again and worry lines marring her face. She smile widely just after that and Nereus would have been fooled if her aura had not stayed identical to previously.

“Seras Amadis. It’s nice to meet you."

“Likewise,” he answered with some amusement in his voice – her gentle and quiet manners were unusual, even amongts peopel as mild as the Jedi but he found he didn’t quite mind it, it was… refreshing.

He had not known her by sight, but he’d heard about a padawan of that name becoming apprenticed to Master Stone. Ah, the reason behind he troubled mind already seemed clearer. Leaving silence reign for a few seconds before speaking again, the Kiffar crooked his neck to face the Miraluka- no that she could see, mind you, it was more out of principle than anything else.

“The problem with living in a community of people that can read minds is that it is pretty hard to hide when you’re troubled… Worried about Master Stone?”

He could be completely wrong about this – it was somewhat of a shot in the dark – but from his perspective it seemed rather logical. He would be worried too, if his new Master was sent to battle so early after meeting him.
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Callan Lash
Posted: Nov 8 2008, 07:06 PM
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Shyrack
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Group: Jedi Order
Posts: 154
Member No.: 437
Joined: 9-August 08



After speaking with his two fellow Padawans, and feeling their baser emotions washing over him, he too began to worry more and more about the Jedi that were attacking Korriban. Yes, they had the aid of the Mandalorians and the Alliance, but that didn't change the fact that there would be losses on both sides of this bloody conflict. If no Jedi were killed, it would be a miracle. And what were they risking all of this for? To wipe out a group of people who believed differently than they did? It didn't seem like the Jedi way in the slightest. Callan became angry at the revalation that he'd just made in his mind, and didn't even attempt to hide the emotions or thoughts from the other two. He felt better letting them feel what he was thinking than saying it anyway.

Upon hearing that Seras had only come because she was feeling lonely, Callan carefully moved the tiny kitten and walked nearer to Seras. He sat down next to her against the wall and placed the tiny kitten in her lap as he did so.

"If you're lonely, just play with Meshla for a bit. Maybe it'll help."

Upon saying the panther kitten's name, he realized that the Mando'a word for beautiful was very much true for Seras as well. Before he could think too much about it, he shook the thought from his brain and turned his attention to what Nereus had said about him and his form of Gungan politics. Of course he knew the rumors that were flying about the Temple, ushered mostly by those that were younger initiates.

"I guess you heard partially correct. To get the Cheiftain's respect and to get him to listen to a word I was saying, I had to pass a Gungan warrior trial. All I did was knock one of their more powerful warriors out with the blunt end of a spear."

Callan lifted his left sleeve up to the elbox and showed Nereus the thick white scar that started at his wrist and made its way up the Padawan's forearm.

"He decided that he would try to use the sharp end... either way, I'm an honorary Gungan warrior now."

He listened to the two of them for a few moments before hearing Nereus ask Seras if she was worried for her Master, whom Callan recalled to be Master Stone. Even though he greatly respected the Master, he wasn't very keen on his attitude and how he was so serious all the time. If Callan had to guess, he would have said that it was Master Stone's idea to go to war in the first place.

"I think we're all worried for the others. All we can do now though, is pray that the Force brings everyone back in one piece and as healthy as they were when they left."

Realizing that he had more or less answered for Seras, he shut his mouth and let her speak. Callan needed to work on that...he talked too much.

He laughed and scratched behind his kitten's ears, Callan smiled at the little panther, who had curled up and fallen asleep in Seras' lap. With another smile and laugh, he added-

"I think she likes you."


--------------------
user posted image





Name:
Callan Lash

Faction
Jedi Order

Class
Guardian

Rank
Jedi Knight

Former Master
Garth Norghar

Weapons
Green Guard Shoto x2
Silver Lightsaber
Electrostaff
Model 22T4 Hold-Out Blaster

Starships
None

Items
Comlink
Utility Belt
Datapad
Cortosis Weave Forearm Guards
Jal Shay Advisor Armor
PMEmail Poster
Top
Seras Amadis
Posted: Nov 10 2008, 02:04 AM
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Tuk'ata
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Group: Neutral
Posts: 270
Member No.: 378
Joined: 18-June 08



Quietly she drew a hand to her face and pulled the tassels of hair from about her face and hooked them behind her ear. Seras slid down the wall, folding her legs beneath herself as she went down. Patting down her robes and straightening out the simple fabric, she sighed gently. She twitched as the waves of negativity washed over her, her hair jingled loudly. It was both comforting and disturbing at the same time to feel from another what she had been feeling. Guilt washed over her, as the feeling of heresy spread. Seras didn't say anything though. She didn't know what to say.

"If you're lonely, just play with Meshla for a bit. Maybe it'll help."

Callan seemed happy enough to let the thought side, and so was she. Smiling as her padawan brother sat beside her and placed Meshla in her lap, Seras enveloped the sand panther in her arms.
"Thank you," she said quietly, scratching Meshla down her back and speaking softly to the animal.

"Trying to stay busy, the same as usual: there’s not much to do before the Council assigns me to a new Master. I hear you’ve been the same - introducing plywood to the Gungan diplomacy process, wasn’t it?

Seras knew all too well that feeling. Though she had to say that Nereus seemed to be dealing with his master's passing far better than she had. It seemed a lifetime ago now, after a long and arduous time of grieving, she had mostly gotten over the trauma, loss, and feelings of abandonment. Seras had to say releasing the memory moth for Master Gann helped immensely. She would have released one for Nereus' master also. She felt a little guilty of robbing him of his closure. But a small smile curled her lips and she turned a little from the other padawans as the feelings drifted to the front of her mind. He was in a better place now, a peaceful place. She wished to bring such peace to this mortal plain. However, that seemed more of a naïve fantasy with each passing day.
"What was his name?" she asked respectfully, trying to judge of Nereus was up to speaking more of his late master.

"I guess you heard partially correct. To get the Cheiftain's respect and to get him to listen to a word I was saying, I had to pass a Gungan warrior trial. All I did was knock one of their more powerful warriors out with the blunt end of a spear."

She too had been interested in Callan's answer to the Gungan massacre that she had heard rumours of. Luckily for Callan, they had just been rumours. She felt his aura and saw no signs of deception. While she frowned at causing any harm to any living being, Seras was glad Callan had decided to only incapacitate the Gungan. She knew under the same circumstances, she would not have raised a hand against the warrior and probably wouldn't be here to speak about it.

"He decided that he would try to use the sharp end... either way, I'm an honorary Gungan warrior now."

Seras grimaced as Callan drew attention to the thick scar that ran the length of his forearm. The healer in her was already analysing the wound to see if any more could be done. Clearly it had been seen to, but she doubted it was by a Jedi. The healers of the Order were capable of a much cleaner seam. She hesitated a moment before speaking.
"You know... if you like, I mean... I could look at that for you. Clean it up a bit, yeah?"

The problem with living in a community of people that can read minds is that it is pretty hard to hide when you’re troubled… Worried about Master Stone?

Still petting the purring sand panther in her lap, she turned her attention back to Nereus and contemplated the question. She was worried for him, both his mind and body. Memories of Ilum came back to the padawan and how Master Stone choose to deal with the indigenous life of the ice planet. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that her master would be returning, she only worried for his wellbeing afterwards. Such a crusade was bound to weigh heavy on the soul.

"I think we're all worried for the others. All we can do now though, is pray that the Force brings everyone back in one piece and as healthy as they were when they left."

Callan spoke before she had a chance to construct her fragmented thoughts into something coherent. She smiled, thankful for him taking the focus off her. It was doubtful that she could have come up with something so fitting.
"Yes, as Callan said."

"I think she likes you."

Drawing her attention back to Meshla, Seras smiled, scratching the sand panther behind the other ear. "I like her too. She's so cute! ...Yes you are..." she said, lowering her head to Meshla and rubbing her cheek on the sand panther's soft fur. Raising her head she exhaled deeply and sighed. Seras pursed her lips and her brow furrowed. Her mindsight studied her counterparts intently, wondering how much trouble she would get in if Master Stone knew the thoughts that ran through her mind.
"So," she begun hesitantly, "how much do you guys know about our enemy?" The word enemy sounded false on her lips, just placed there to prove some unknown point. She had been considering this for a while and would have gone alone, but now she had found company, the thought of going alone seemed wrong. They were all involved in this whether they liked it or not. "I think we should know about our enemy, yeah?" Seras grinned mischievously.


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Nereus Sark
Posted: Nov 11 2008, 07:31 AM
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"What was his name?"

He looked up to the Miraluka, surprised she would prod about the subject. Usually most people dropped the subject like a cold, dead fish and the few people that did try to talk to him about it had been careful and gentle about it. His fellow padawan’s directness was unusual but not really unwelcome – he’d been through his grief, or at least liked to think he did. So it was some sort of fond amusement instead of the expected sadness that he answered.

“Master Geram Veradis. You may have heard of him, he was one of the more… unusual Masters in the Order.”

As a matter of fact, Master Veradis had often butted heads with Master Stone, he now recalled – well he’d butted heads with all Council members at some point except for Master Rumare. His views had been rather unique in this age and it wasn’t without a good reason he’d been called by some a Grey Jedi. Leaving the subject there, he inclined his head towards Callan, prompting him to speak.

“... either way, I'm an honorary Gungan warrior now."

Nereus sighed somewhat wistfully – it had been almost a year since he’d taken a mission and he was starting to miss it. He’d become used to travelling a lot with his old mentor and staying so long in the same place was starting t make him restless: there really wasn’t that much to do inside the Temple, and he was getting sick and tired of always practicing without actually having a chance to apply his skills in a real setting. Patience is a virtue for the Jedi, but I’m starting to run out of it.

“Still, you got a diplomacy mission – Force knows I’d give my left arm for that these days. Or any chance to get out of here, to be honest.”

"You know... if you like, I mean... I could look at that for you. Clean it up a bit, yeah?"

Seras seemed to be taking an interest in Callan’s scar, drawing an interested quirk of the eyebrow from the Kiffar. So the Miraluka was a healer? It was fortunate, as they would most likely need all the healers they would get after the Korriban invasion he reflected cynically. His own feelings were mixed on the subject of the controversial invasion: while he somewhat understood that not everybody could be redeemed, the fact that the Council would initiate hostilities without any dialogue whatsoever irked the diplomat in him. He’d always been taught that violence was to be used as a very last resort, but the Council had seemed rather eager to slay their fallen brethren. However, that same diplomat in him reminded him that passing judgment on a decision without holding the same information possessed by those who made it was dangerously foolish at best. Whatever his views about the Council were, he recognized they were much wiser and experienced than him – and as such more qualified to make this decision – yet there was that spark of critical thinking ingrained in him by Master Veradis that just wouldn’t die.

He knew perfectly well what killing felt like – he’d known since he was four years old and psychometry had made him see his parent’s murder as if he’d committed it himself – and deep inside he believed there would never be a good reason to commit such an act. The Kiffar reached for the last threads of peace and serenity that remained from his meditation, clearing his mind of the inner conflict. No doubt his fellow padawans had picked up on it, but he’d always been one of the most gifted ones in this kind of abilities so it was doubtful they would sense much.

"I think we're all worried for the others. All we can do now though, is pray that the Force brings everyone back in one piece and as healthy as they were when they left."

"Yes, as Callan said."

Nereus looked thoughtful for a moment – he wanted to believe everything would be all right like Callan did, but all the memories he’d glanced through the years screamed the contrary. Things didn’t fix themselves up magically and happy endings were rare and far in between. Sometimes he felt like he was much older and wearier than he had any right to be, one of the side effects of sifting through several lifetimes of memories. He cocked his head to the side, a habit he had unconsciously picked up from his late Master and made him look like a man twice his age.

“Perhaps it is not wise to ask too much of the Force – we will lose comrades to war, that much is certain. It would be delusion to assume everyone that went will come back, and while it is a good thing to hope one should not put too much stock in it: it is a quick path to disappointment.

The Kiffar suddenly smiled wryly, seeming to snap out of his philosophical mood.

“But listen at me talk, I sound like one of those lecturing old Masters. Ignore what I’ve said; I must have spent too much time in the Archives.”

There was a calm moment where Seras played with the beautiful panther cub – a Corellian Sand Panther, if he wasn’t mistaken – and Nereus let himself relax, simply enjoying the company of the others with his eyes closed. It was Seras’s gentle voice that drew him out of his growing torpor.

“So how much do you guys know about our enemy? I think we should know about our enemy, yeah?"

There was something in the Miraluka’s mischievous grin that woke up the prankster in him, and he answered with a wide grin himself.

“My, my, Padawan Amadis… Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

His grin got even wider, if that was possible.

“I’m starting to like you already.”
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Callan Lash
Posted: Nov 15 2008, 08:41 PM
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Callan smiled thoughtfully at the offer to heal up his scar. On one hand, it was quite an unsightly thing, even if it was on the bottom of his arm where hardly anyone would see it. On the other hand though, it was a scar won in battle and it would more than likely be considered dishonorable to have it healed with the Force. Of course, he didn't want to flat out refuse her and hurt her feelings. It wasn't just because he was a nice guy, either. There was some endearing quality about Seras that Callan wasn't familiar with. Because he didn't want to over-think the issue and turn it into something that it most certainly wasn't...or couldn't be...he answered her as diplomatically as he could.

"It doesn't look very good, but it doesn't hurt or slow me down any. You're the healer though...if you think it needs healed, then feel free to heal it for me."

Callan re-rolled his sleeve and extended it to Seras so that she could inspect it more closely. He had always been curious about how Miralukas could see through the Force so clearly. It always made him wonder what their vision was like. Thinking like that made the Padawan curious as to how Seras saw him as. If it was through the Force, was he a generally good entity, as he tried to be? He made a mental note to ask her sometime.

For now though, he contented himself with listening to the two of them speak about the war, his own comment, and Nereus' old Master. It was a shame that he had also lost a good man. Although, his Master had died naturally, if Callan remembered correctly. His own Master, and Seras' had died of less happy means. Callan returned his attention to the world around him when he heard Seras mention finding out more about their enemy...the Cult. He loved the idea, personally, so he decided to go along with it.

After all...what was the worst that could happen? The Masters were all gone and they had free reign of the Temple.

"I'm all for finding out more about the Cult. Lead on Seras."

With one more smile, Callan stood and extended his hand down to Seras to help her up off of the ground.


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Name:
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Seras Amadis
Posted: Nov 17 2008, 01:45 AM
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Padawan Amadis felt a shot of surprise stab at the periphery of her consciousness. Instantly she jumped to the conclusion that she had prodded too hard. She was usually far more reserved about asking such personal questions and although at the time such a simple question hadn't seemed like much, now it seemed very rude and impertinent. Frowning, the padawan began to word a quick apology when Nereus spoke again.

"Master Geram Veradis. You may have heard of him, he was one of the more… unusual Masters in the Order."

Smiling bashfully, Seras knew her padawan brother was not angered by her question, if anything, he seemed to appreciate it. She shrugged a little and concentrated on the name he had given. Master Geram Veradis. Thinking back, she tried to find his name in the scores of dead names she imbued into the memory moths. The event seemed so long ago now and there were so many names. Shamefully, she was hesitant to admit the name didn't ring a bell. Seras wasn’t about to admit that, however.
"I'm sorry. He must have been a good man," said the padawan after a moment of thought, deciding to give a complement rather than admit her lack of knowledge.

"It doesn't look very good, but it doesn't hurt or slow me down any. You're the healer though...if you think it needs healed, then feel free to heal it for me."

Seras was quick to shake her head as Callan spoke and offered his arm to her. She had already inspected the long scar and probably knew more about it than Callan did.
"No, no need," with a smile she held up her own hand, "It's healed well and if it's not causing you any problems there's no reason to mess with it."

"Perhaps it is not wise to ask too much of the Force [...] Ignore what I’ve said; I must have spent too much time in the Archives."

She remained quiet, contemplating Nereus' words as she played with the sand panther. He was right. She exhaled quietly, rubbing Meshla's soft fur. There would be many among the Order that Seras would never feel again. Such a loss was sickening. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay, but Seras knew she would just be deceiving herself. It seemed that Nereus knew the impact his words would have on his fellow padawans and was quick to diffuse his words. She was thankful for that and doubted she could have listened to much more.

"My, my, Padawan Amadis… Are you suggesting what I think you are? I’m starting to like you already."

She arched an eyebrow beneath the bandage and grinned mischievously.
"I don't know, Padawan Sark, I don't think we can find a Wookie and marmalade on Shedu Maad, especially at this hour." She grinned again, laughing a little to herself.

"I'm all for finding out more about the Cult. Lead on Seras."

With gentle hands she encouraged the sand panther off her lap. It looked a little dejected and Seras ruffled its fur with a warm smile. Without looking in his direction, her hand met Callan's and she pulled herself to her feet with a quiet thank you. Thinking to herself, Seras pushed a few bunches of platinum blonde hair behind her ear. Walking out the door, she turned on her heels and threw a smile back to the two young men.
"Come on, then," she said, walking backwards a few paces before turning on her heels again.


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Nereus Sark
Posted: Nov 19 2008, 06:31 AM
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Nereus repressed a cringe when he saw how his little tirade had dampened the other’s spirit – for someone who fancied himself a diplomat in the making, he’d certainly failed to grasp the mood there. But while he regretted speaking those words, he knew they were true and even if it had not been the place or the moment to say them, it was nonetheless a lesson his fellow padawans would have to learn sooner or later. The Kiffar smiled wryly: he knew better than most exactly how harsh reality could be. Sometimes he hated knowing more than the others, seeing things they didn’t, as he new that it changed him. It made him more mature and put in his mouth wisdom of ages past, yet there was a price – sometimes in his eyes could be seen the tired realism that belonged in the gaze of old men and there was a cynical undertone in his voice whenever he talked about peace. He’d witnessed too many wars fought over vanity and greed to have much faith in the nature of humankind.

Pushing aside his thoughts with practiced ease, Nereus reminded himself that wickedness was precisely why the Jedi existed – and while he did not have the arrogance to think he could save everyone, he could at least protect a few. Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force. Falling back to the mantras of old – Master Veradis had always disliked the newer Code and instead had made him learn the previous interpretations - brought calm back to his mind. It seemed the expedition on the Cult had affected him more than he would like to admit, if he slipped into defeatism this easily: additional meditation was clearly in order. At least his self-deprecating remark had somewhat dissolved the gloomy mood and Seras answered his earlier teasing comment in a similar vein.

"I don't know, Padawan Sark, I don't think we can find a Wookie and marmalade on Shedu Maad, especially at this hour."

Nereus laughed, highly amused at the mental image. It was nice to see that even when apprenticed to a man as stern as Master Stone she could retain a bit of a spark – there were several betting pools amongst the Padawans and Younglings that speculated on whether or not it was a Force power that allowed him to suck the humour out of any situation. Master Veradis had always delighted to tell naive Younglings that if Master Rumare could seal away your link to the Force, Master Stone could do the same with cheerfulness. His late mentor had always told him it was to help his fellow Jedi lighten up, but Nereus had noted with wry amusement he tended to do it in the days that followed his meetings with the Council.

“Remind me never to question what you do during your free time,” he quipped lightly.

"I'm all for finding out more about the Cult. Lead on Seras."

With Callan playing the gentleman with Seras, Nereus lazily stretched before getting up by himself, still a little drowsy from his earlier near-sleep. Passing a hand through his braided hair to put it back into its proper place, he suddenly narrowed his eyes, recognizing an approaching Force presence.

"Come on, then. "

While Seras walked out backwards – he supposed being bing gave her a different perspective on such things – the Kiffar did so with some wariness. But even with his caution his manoeuvre was futile and a second later a silver-furred projectile collided with his chest, sending his sprawling to the ground in an undignified yelp. Sighing desolately, he shot a mildly amused look at the Kabaira snow-wolf pup that was currently licking his face with enthusiasm.

“You’re getting a bit big for that, Mirdala.”

Nereus wasn’t fooled a second by the cutely contrite air she took at the reprimand – he could feel the slight smugness in her presence and knew perfectly well she loved knocking him around. She was big even for a Kabaira, and at her age of two years old she was already around four feet long with the pounds that went along with it. Pushing her aside, he scratched her head fondly and looked up to his companions.

“Do you mind if she comes along? I shudder to think of the chaos she’d create without me around.”
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Callan Lash
Posted: Nov 22 2008, 10:29 PM
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Callan laughed at Seras' joke about the marmalade as he helped her get to her feet. Meshla seeme rather sad to not have anyone to pet her anymore, so Callan picked her up and plaed her in the pocket of his outer robe, so that her small, sandy-colored head poked out innocently. Apparently, he had grabbed her just in time, seeing as Nereus' pet wolf had decided to pick that moment to barge in and tackle her master. Callan wasn't quite sure how Meshla would react to the wolf, so he was going to make sure that she didn't leave his robes until the thing was gone.

"Not at all. After all, I'm bringing Meshla along."

Callan moved to follow Seras to...wherever she had decided that they would go to search out information on this unknown enemy. If Callan's judgement was correct, they would more than likely have to go to some forbidden section of the Archives. Or possibly, they would need to break into a Master's quarters to find the information that they wanted. As averse as he was to the latter option, he had to admit that he was willing to go that far for information.

Callan was broken from his thoughts when he saw Seras walking out of the room backwards. The way that she walked so gracefully and turned on her heels like that...he admired the fact that she could do all that and still look so...

No. He had to quit thinking like that. He was a Jedi. Not to mention, he barely knew the girl,even though they'd had classes together since they were very young. Any feelings that he might be getting for her had to be stopped. Besides...she would never go for someone like him.

With thoughts of that nature beating off the walls of his mind, Callan walked after Nereus and Seras, doing his best to block his thoughts off from the others. He didn't want them thinking he was being stupid.

"So...where are we going to look first?"


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Name:
Callan Lash

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Seras Amadis
Posted: Nov 25 2008, 05:04 AM
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"Remind me never to question what you do during your free time."

She shrugged playfully, turning on her heels yet again and walking backwards so she could at least face the two trailing padawans and their pets.
"Haven't you ever wondered why we have no Wookies?" she turned around with a little flourish, the various trinkets and charms wrapped into her hair jingling with the movement. "Well now you know," said Seras light-heartedly over her shoulder with a matching grin.

Master Stone had not taken her sense of humour away from her, though she found it close to impossible to say anything other than 'yes master' in his presence. Seras hoped that in time they would get to know each other better and she would feel comfortable enough to prattle on about nothing in his presence. She sighed a little beneath her breath, unsure of whether or not that would ever happen. They had done nothing but butt heads since the illustrious Jedi Master took the orphaned Seras under his icicle ribbed wing.

"Do you mind if she comes along? I shudder to think of the chaos she’d create without me around."

"Not at all. After all, I'm bringing Meshla along."

Seras didn't respond seeing as Callan had decided for both of them. It didn't matter, besides, she would have said almost the same thing. She liked being surrounded by life and maybe the emptiness of the Redoubt would seem less so with more bodies around. Furrowing her brow, Seras wondered if that was selfish of her. Was she dragging these two along just so she could have some company and not feel so alone? She grumbled to herself.

"So...where are we going to look first?"

Callan's enquiry took her mind away from the more morose thoughts. She smiled pushing them back to the hidden areas of her mind.
"Archives, I guess," admitted Seras with another shrug, [color=blue]"haven't really thought this through." Realising that having a plan here would be advantageous, she began to form the semblance of one.


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Nereus Sark
Posted: Nov 27 2008, 11:54 PM
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"Haven't you ever wondered why we have no Wookies? Well now you know,"

He answered her grin with one of his own, quickly growing to enjoy the banter.

“Ah, I can see it now: Seras Amadis, Confectionary Terror, Prowler of Shedu Maad’s Night… Her name is only spoken in whispers by those who are furred…” he answered mock-melodramatically.

He entertained himself by picturing a black-robed Seras haunting the corridors with a jar of marmalade, assailing the poor Wookies she met with the fruity confection. From the corner of his eye he noticed Callan’s gaze lingering on the shape of the Miraluka and repressed the urge to raise an eyebrow. He would have liked to be surprised at the clouded and burgeoning feelings in his eyes, but as the Kiffar had himself noticed the beauty of their fellow padawan earlier he had no moral high ground here. He hoped the human knew what he was doing, however, as such things could be dangerous for ones as young as them, they weren’t able to detach themselves from their emotions as well as the older Jedi did. He knew Callan had good control over himself, though, so he quickly dismissed his worries: he was probably reading more to this than there was anyway.

"Not at all. After all, I'm bringing Meshla along."

Pushing Mirdala off of him – strange, his and Callan’s companions had similar sounding names and the same gender – Nereus calmed her down by passing his hand through her neck’s fur and sending out a soothing feeling to her mind. The snow-wolf relaxed and whimpered in pleasure as she always did whenever he completed their little ritual.

“Behave, Mir – we have company.”

The pup looked at him as if he were a particularly dim individual and started to leisurely walk by his side after sniff of disdain. The Kiffar pretended no to be amused, more for her sake than his.

"So...where are we going to look first?"

“Archives, I guess, haven't really thought this through."

“Hmm, with the organization problems and everybody gone we might actually have a shot at getting in. Besides,” he continued while thoughtfully clenching his gloved fingers,” with me around you don’t have to worry much about passwords and the like.”

He walked ahead of them in the Archive's direction, Mirdala following enthusiastically.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

((Sorry for the shoddy posting, wanted to have it done before my exile in the North.))
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