exemplaries

[exemplaries]

“you did not volunteer to be exiled, meetra.” the words are spoken softly, a hand tentatively reached out to rest upon the others’. “you volunteered to fight an unjust war. not to be punished for the council’s inaction.” not to watch them fall. to be exiled. to wander the galaxy without force or friend. force . . . as manipulative as the council’s path had been for bastila, she could hardly even begin to imagine the pain meetra had suffered on their behalf, for their folly.

“The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice.“

( for meetra )

she’s quiet for a moment, head slightly bowed --- the most she’ll let herself crack under the weight of it. in the end she says simply, “i volunteered.” the path she’s walked has not been a kind one, but she chose it. that the jedi council hadn’t agreed ... maybe it was injustice. she’s wanted to let go of that anger, but maybe she shouldn’t, not entirely.

[exemplaries]

“Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer.“

the words bring memories flooding back - malachor, korriban, the star forge - things she’d only heard, and then been confronted with the devastation at her fingertips in a time she still thought of as a walking nightmare. the massacre of her people, the jedi hunted down and she had barely been able to stop it, swept away into this new time. they’d survived, she’d survived - but at what cost? “i have.” the words bite, a tone she’d have been admonished for - and would have admonished herself for - once. “i’ve stood in the destruction your people wrought. how can you defend it?”

[exemplaries]

📜 – trilla

bastila: what is your biggest weakness ?

trilla: i can be uncooperative.

bastila: okay, can you give me an example ?

trilla: no.

++ @cravked

[exemplaries]

madamejocastanu·:

   “Of course, we all need to look out for one another, now more than ever. With so few of us currently in the galaxy, I must look out for all the Jedi in my care.” Jocasta smiled, glad that the other was for the most part uninjured. “Yes, thankfully, I too was mostly uninjured beyond a few bruises. I am more upset that we couldn’t save more people from that horrible attack.” She let out a soft sigh, knowing that the time they had for pleasantries was running thin, “The reason I have come to seek you out, Bastila, is because I know you come from further back into the past than any of us here, and so I must ask. In your time, in your travels, and in your experience, did you ever meet anything like these creatures?” Mon gently put a hand on her shoulder, “If it is too painful to talk about anything I am asking you to, please tell me, I will have no judgement on you. I promise you that.” 

“i’m sorry, i haven’t.” she frowns, shaking her head small. “i know of voids in the force, like these felt . . .” the jedi trails off, thinking back. after arrival to this time, she’d attempted to learn of the fates of those close to her - atris, the dantooine enclave, the ebon hawk crew - and in the process, learned of revan’s fate ( and disappearance, shortly after her last memories from that time ). “the sith emperor, once, could create places and people that could not be felt in the force. that’s the closest thing i can recall.”

“i’m sorry i couldn’t be more help, master nu.” brow furrows as she tries to think, recalling anything that might be helpful. she’d certainly never encountered these creatures before - she would have remembered if she had, certainly. as she goes to clasp jocasta’s hand back, her hands instead fly to her mouth as a long-forgotten memory claws to the surface. “wait. there was this story that mission loved, that canderous used to tell.” she searches for the details, struggling to recall. “about this unknown ship that melted beskar. i don’t know what ever came of it, but . . .” she glances up, worrying at her lower lip. “i could ask.”

[exemplaries]

finitefm·:

CLOSED   for   @exemplaries···   ft   BASTILA   SHAN

❛   SHAN,   ❜   malak   calls   after   her,   taking   a   step   in   her   direction.   ❛   bastila.   ❜   he   raises   his   hands   in   some   kind   of   half   surrender,   ease   written   in   every   line   of   his   stance.   ❛   don’t   snap,   i   only   want   to   talk.   ❜   he   is   not   such   a   FOOL   to   think   that   they   are   on   good   terms   –   would   not   approach   her   if   he   did   not   have   to,   because   he   cannot   find   the   appeal   in   toying   with   people   over   horrors   he   HAS   NOT   YET   committed.  

at his approach, arms instinctively cross, both a self-protective instinct and as a visible act of displeasure, corners of her mouth twitching downwards slightly before settling into neutral. she was trying to give him a chance, really was - he was different, no memory of her and the destruction in their combined wake, a fact he’d demonstrated time and time again - but fear was still ingrained in her bones at the sight of him, a feeling she couldn’t hope to - and had been unable to - easily shake. 

“what is it?” she responds, honestly if not slightly rudely, words tinged with impatience. thinking of meetra, she tries to soften, but rather unsuccessfully, the tension in her shoulders barely fading. a deep breath, a moment of silence settling between the pair, and then she tries again. “i’m listening.”

[exemplaries]

the words do not come as a surprise, but she still resists the urge to flinch, to refute them - defensive mechanisms from years of secrets and bottled up emotions still firmly rooted in every instinct; she’d never been good at sharing feelings or even talking about them, even if they weren’t her own. she wants to share this with meetra, wants to tell her so bad it almost hurts to hold it in, but habit kicks in and she just sits there - like an idiot ! - eyes on clasped hands that rest in her lap. dark eyes blink slowly, focusing entirely on her breathing - in, out, in - as she tries to tamper down both any outward sign of panic as well as any inward ( perhaps one of the worst parts of being surrounded by powerful jedi meant most could practically read your mind at any time if they tried hard enough ). “facing those things at hapes just shook me, that’s all.” she shakes her head small, as if dismissing the thought of anything other. “i’m fine, meetra.” but she does not meet her eyes, cannot meet her eyes.

closed for bastila shan / @exemplaries​​ !

meetra watches bastila worriedly, carefully tucked away in her room at the new jedi temple. they’re worried about their friend — they don’t know what’s wrong with her entirely, but it’s clear enough that something is. bastila is … used to keeping her feelings to herself, they think, but they want her to know that they’re here for her, if she’ll let them. they always will be. “what’s going on, bastila ? i know this is more than the attacks.“

[exemplaries]

at jocasta’s approach, she immediately straightens ( barely perceptible, her own posture already near perfect from a childhood of scolding on slouching ), hands brushing at the fabric of her robes, smoothing the wrinkles. master nu was the oldest, and thus most experienced, member of the order as it currently stood - and not to mention she was on the council. bastila may have had conflicting feelings towards the subgroup, but the position demanded respect regardless of personal inclinations; she would present her best, then.

at jocasta’s words, she bites her tongue, choosing words with care and precision, both for respect and herself - there was much she did not want to say, nor had said to many ( or, any but one ). “i appreciate your concern, master nu.” she doesn’t bother to correct jocasta’s address - despite her state as the eldest displaced by timeline, and the deeds she had accomplished there, bastila was no jedi master - and instead smiles politely with the response. “it’s been a hard time for us all, but i was lucky enough to be relatively uninjured by the events at hapes.” she keeps it vague, polite, formal - no need to mention what had happened during hapes, or how it had sunk its claws into her and refused to let her forget in the weeks after.

   Jocasta was walking through the hall of the temple when her eyes fell on Bastila, Jocasta hadn’t quite gotten to know the other Jedi as much as she would have liked. Making her way over to her, she offered a small smile, perhaps she would have some insight on all of this, she had lived through some of the greatest struggles of the Jedi Order and the Galaxy as a whole. 

“Master Shan, how have you been holding up during all of this? Is there anything you need, or I can do? I want to be here for the whole Order, and all our members.” 

@exemplaries​

[exemplaries]

as the meeting resolved and bodies trickle from the room, the jedi meets padme’s eye, small smile painting her lips at the friendly sight. she maneuvers over to stand at her side, nodding in greeting. “padme.”

she’d met the senator several times, but never in the best of circumstances - a trend that continued now, it seemed. she’d traveled to the inner rim to visit vaner and represent the jedi in matters of state and warfare in the aftermath of hapes, and despite the tragedy and weight of what they were discussing, it was alleviating to revisit familiar, friendly faces such as the naboo senator.

“we’re lucky to have skill in force healing within our ranks,” ( including herself, although she does not say it ) she responds quietly, knowing talk of the jedi still raised eyebrows for many within the new government. “i’m glad to see you here as well, after everything. the new republic needs your leadership in this time more than ever.” lowering her voice, a more mischievous smile touches her face. “tell me, how do you manage to look so refined at these things? i can’t help but feel my irritation plain on my face, no matter what i try.”

@exemplaries​   //   bastila shan.

another meeting that had come with the exact same result as the one’s before it. knowing the names of the creatures, and apparently their intentions, that had attacked hapes consortium and so many other places across the galaxy had brought no more answers about them. it was nearly infuriating, though padmé remained a calm exterior, even offering a small smile when she recognized a familiar face. “bastila, it’s wonderful to see you again – especially looking so well, after everything recently.”

[exemplaries]

JESSICA HENWICK // have you met BASTILA SHAN yet? SHE/HER is now a TWENTY-SEVEN year old CISGENDER FEMALE HUMAN, originally from TALRAVIN & DANTOOINE but typically resides on YAVIN FOUR. after everything they’ve gone through, they show loyalty to THE JEDI ORDER. they are best known for being a JEDI KNIGHT / TEACHER, and i hear they’re grown pretty CARING yet also STUBBORN at times; i hope they survive the galactic war.

L O A D I N G : // …  8ABY : MONTH TWO … //

she settles into life in the new jedi order, but continuing to miss the other members of the ebon hawk crew, thinking of them often ( despite the no-attachment rules of her time ).

shortly into her residence with the jedi, she meets meetra surik for the first time, the two women becoming fast and close friends.

she meets stassam char, an art collector, and begins to rely on them, both homesick for their times. they become good friends, visiting and communicating often.

invited to the fundraiser on onderon, she takes it as an opportunity to explore the ancient jedi temple, as well as have some fun at meetra's side.

shortly upon returning to the jedi temple on yavin four, she is greeted with the sight of a much younger darth malak, meeting him with anger and emotion, only memories of him tortured and frightening. soon, however, she is reminded of the time in which he came from, and his lack of memories.

at a party, attending on behalf of the order, she meets padme amidala for the first time, knowing of her close relationships with many other jedi.

after the events of sernpidal, she remains on yavin four, but keeps in contact with meetra surik and trilla suduri, who are with the younglings on an unknown planet to keep the future of the order safe.

attending the hapes event, she witnesses the truth of stassam's character - that they are a sith lord. she fights alongside canderous ordo, another member of the ebon hawk crew brought back.

as the galaxy recovers, she confides in canderous and jocasta nu, and spends some time with kylia horne. she also meets avar kriss, and despite their similarities, the two bicker.

briefly before the comms crisis, she encounters aayla secura at the yavin temple, and works with padme amidala to find answers and solutions to the mysterious invaders from hapes, now officially identified as the yuuzhan vong. alongside quinlan vos, the two discuss the merits of working alongside force sensitives who are not jedi, both unaffiliated and sith.

[exemplaries]

nothing new

[exemplaries]

vaner says : “you have a power i don’t understand and could never have.”

she places a hand on his shoulder, soft smile tinged with a feeling of loss, of lost. she had felt immediate kinship with vaner upon meeting, a protective instinct aptly explained by the bond between them she had no memories of ( a strange feeling, being on the receiving end ). “i do.” she acknowledges, dark eyes nearly sad. “but that doesn’t mean you’re any less for lack of it.” a forner of her mouth lilts, positive and kind. “i may be a jedi, but you’ve served the republic far better than i ever have.” or, did.

@lawlearned

[exemplaries]

“Somehow I got the feeling that didn’t work very much.”

“no.” the jedi shakes her head, a small smile forming on her face with faint remembering. “it didn’t.” then again, rarely any plan formed by the ebon hawk crew had; their exploits destined to come from last minute reconfigurations of blueprints and battle-plans. “but somehow, we made it out.”

[exemplaries]

"no, i-" the jedi halts as the twi'lek turns, raising a quiet hand in soft greeting. "i just wanted to make sure you were alright." the halls of the yavin four temple may have made it harder to reach through the force, layers of transparisteel and history muddling the flow of it all, but out here among the tall grasses and millenia-old trees, bastila had often found solace. the emotion emanating from this figure had been far easier to sense, as well, and had drawn her attention.

@galacticsopens​ location: yavin 4

the tears made aayla’s eyes glassy, as they took in the temple. she stood outside of it, just staring. quickly moving a hand up they brushed away any chance of the tears actually falling. a feeling of being watched tickles at the back of their neck and they look down towards the ground, before looking back up. “is there something i can do to help you??” they ask trying their best to sound unbothered. 

[exemplaries]

"i don't know." she admits truthfully, glancing up at quinlan with a small shrug of her robed shoulders. "but we have to try."

she wasn't sure she believed the words fully herself, but she would defend them with conviction if challenged. she'd always been like that, defensive of anything if it came into question, and although it had gotten her in trouble more than once with the council or her peers, it could prove useful here, under the sure scrutiny of the council and new republic if followed through. it was extremely risky, with no many unknowns, and it could not afford any of those behind it to falter in their belief.

at his second comment, the edge of her mouth quirks upwards into a small smile, hope and a tinge of amusement crossing her features. "we used to say the same of jedi and mandalorians, did we not? and now many fight side by side with us." it was an odd trend amongst those who had been brought back - or who had already been in this time - with so many mandalorian warriors having found companionship and an ally in at least one jedi. a far cry from the galaxy she'd left, but she appreciated it, both for the unity it signaled and for the reduction of one more possible thread amongst all this violence ( raised in war, always a tactical mind, she could not help but think it ).

@exemplaries​ said: ❛ we won’t get another chance at this. ❜

         quinlan looked up at bastila, he had finally sat down after pacing across the temple’s meeting hall. there had been a sort of recognition between, not the old acquaintances kind, there were a few centuries between them, but the one that only those who had gone to the dark side and came back into the light shared. so of course despite being wary of the jedi order, —the new council did helped to make quinlan less hesitant to join them again— quinlan had trusted her immediately.

        ❝i guess you are right❞ he shook his head, they had never shared a common enemy before, this might be the only chance, ❝jedi and sith had been ancient enemies, for millennia… are we sure a common threat would be enough to wipe that much bad blood?❞

[exemplaries]

“Tell me. What’s troubling you?” (from canderous)

"nothing." the younger woman sighs, spilling out a practiced lie. years of the order had trained her to shove emotions down deep, ignore the hardships and keep fighting - she was still learning to undo that, to be honest and true. especially with those who genuinely meant well, like canderous did. the guilt of the response pangs, and her brow wrinkles as she shakes her head, running a hand through half-up hair. "i just," she pauses, choosing her words, "i can't shake the feeling of what happened on hapes. the emptiness in the force, the sudden death and fear the only thing i could feel." she trails off, glancing up at the mandalorian. "it's sticking with me, and i can't explain why." it's hindering me, too, she doesn't add. ever since that night, something had felt wrong when she tried to access the force, tried to reach across the network of living and luminous beings like she'd been able to for the last twelve years. the presence of beings who could not be felt had shaken her more than nearly anything ever had.

[exemplaries]

avar says : “why don’t you use your divine influence and get us out of this?”

"that's not quite how it works." the jedi responds, an edge of irritation in her tone. "i thought you'd know that." avar was a recent addition to this new order, but a welcome one, said to be gifted with a power akin to bastila's own battle meditation. she'd hoped the two could discover why she'd been so struggling with connecting to it lately, but instead . . . this. unfortunate, really, but bastila should have expected it. avar was a jedi, and had stayed with them longer than bastila had; she could see the reflection of her own self in the other woman, another path walked. she'd probably be like this, too, if time had carried on without revan or the rift's interference.

[exemplaries]

force healing had come more naturally to her than most ( enough to pull revan from the brink of death, although how she’d accomplished that without losing herself still baffled her, never since having been able to replicate the feat ). having emerged relatively unscathed ( injured, but standing, which was more than many could say ), she’d immediately offered her services to anyone who needed them, using her battle meditation to instill remnants of confidence back in the battered survivors, many of whom had gathered on core new republic worlds in hopes of safety and a supply of bacta. it was on one of those planets that she stood now, exiting the halls of a high-tech medcenter where she’d been assigned ( still odd to be taking orders from the son she never knew she had, but heart swelling with pride nonetheless ).

“are you waiting for someone inside?” perhaps she could provide a moment of good news. more likely not, many injuries too far to repair even with the force, but she could only hope the force had guided this boy’s path and saved whomever he waited for.

trever flume ft. anyone! ( @galacticsopens​ )

Trever hated Medbays. It felt like he’d been stuck in that one for another lifetime, endlessly waiting for news about Roan. Of course he wasn’t allowed to really go inside, because he wasn’t family in the medic’s eyes. (had they ever heard that family’s more than blood? probably not) Alone in his corner, he was not in a good mood — but was good at pretending he was just waiting. Until he felt a gaze lingering on him, making Trever feel uneasy. That was an old habit of living on the streets — life was better for him if he stayed hidden. And trouble came when people looked at him that long. “don’t just stand there, looking at me,” he told the stranger, trying his best to hide how scared he was.