#oteg

[oftheeldestgodspod]

We think the paintballs probably have centaur blood in them. It just makes sense.

[xanthouransong]

Set of Icons for my OCs ✨

[serenofroses]

Further development into Kritanta's early life like nobody, not even the Jedi nor Sith, knew where he came from.

Kritanta was born during the KOTOR timeline as Revan's first born son. He was a young boy when Malak fired upon the flagship that nearly killed his mother and was taken to the Jedi Order on Dantooine.

He was surprisingly calm for his age and taken under the guidance of a Jedi Master while the Jedi tried to heal Revan's mind.

Kritanta had no love for Malak (he hated that man so much) and developed a close familial relationship with Yuthura.

At the age of 20, he and his adoptive sister was discovered and captured by Emperor Tenebrae just couple of years after Revan's disappearance. Tenebrae sensed great power within Kritanta and had plans for him, though the young man was placed in cold sleep machine for nearly a century and a half and hadn't aged. Kritanta was forced to work with Tenebrae and became a Sith reluctantly.

For couple of years, he was trained into a hardened warrior who mastered the Force (and balanced the will of Light and Dark, which Tenebrae was obvious to it), accepting the role as the Emperor's Wrath.

He didn't have much of a choice. Everyone he used to know apart of Revan's crew were long gone, including Yuthura who was like a second mother to him.

People began to hear the so-called rumours about a "Wrath" in the early years leaving up to the Empire retook Korriban arc. The Galactic Senate thought the whole Emperor's Wrath thing was pure nonsense to throw anyone off, but the Jedi Council remained wary of the news.

Kritanta was sent to Korriban and snuck down to the planet below to take down defenses. It was like... he just appeared out of nowhere and took on his opponents single handedly according to Malgus.

Grandmaster Oteg believed this sounded more troubling than he thought but not long before he learn the Wrath's identity. A name and a face he hasn't heard or seen in forever.

Kritanta remained with Sith rather gloomy and miserable... until he met Vowrawn who had captivated his attention and heart that made his life bearable.

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 17: Pleasure

SWTOR

Pairing: Theron Shan/Eva Corolastor

Words: ~870 (reasonable)

~~

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

She looked up at the familiar voice, pressed into an unfamiliar form.  Eva had learned that the correct response, whilst wearing evening gloves, was to extend her hand toward the voice and either get a firm hearty handshake or to have lips graze the top of the satin fabric. 

Her ability to think was always severely compromised whenever she saw Theron in another guise, as another man, as if they were in different universes, over and over again meeting each other for the first time. 

Time stopped for Eva, each time, each first time.  Maybe it was leftover brain disarray from the carbonite, when she dissociated regularly and didn’t know “when” she was.  It was different from when she first saw him in disguise at the casino on Katalla, and they had to pretend to be strangers.  The hitch wasn’t there.   

Or maybe these episodes were flashes into another universe when it was their first time meeting.  Eva had idly considered it before, in other spaces, in other times.

What if Eva had been caught after Corellia or there had been more hand-wringing before the Pub employed her for Ilum…would she have been sitting at an interrogation table, alone with the files and accusations against her and her broken heart as Theron walked in to question her….?  And when he had sussed out the truth and did what he did best – a victim debrief – what would they be then?

What if they had crossed paths on Nar Shaddaa, and Eva hadn’t been so tipsy with Risha and eating burgers that she’d noticed Theron pick a fight with a Houk and disappear around a corner…Would they have become fast friends over busting up Morbo the Hutt’s trafficking ring, with Bowdaar approving almost immediately upon completion of the rescue?

What if Theron had been deployed on one of those top secret missions that he was still reticent to talk to her about?  Was part of the hesitation knowing now that she’d been nearby?  That his presence would affect how she thought of him now?  Would it matter that he was disguised as an Imperial on King’s Ransom or even the Voidwolf’s flagship?  That he had lurked around Port Nowhere as Eva and Darmas had carried on, publicly, in the cantina?... or even if he had seen them at the tables on Canto Bight?

How different would things have been if Master Oteg had decided Eva and Risha had needed a supervisor on their trip to Maelstrom Prison…one with insight on the man they were meant to rescue?

Or…

Or what if they had never met before she came to Odessen?  Eva didn’t know if she’d be the Outlander if she hadn’t worked with Theron before (and she never would wonder that out loud to him, ever), but… even as the Voidhound (five years later, five years darker, five years harder…) would she catch his eye?  Or would she batter his professional because he caught her attention, some fire still inside of her after five years with the worst part of herself taking the lead, continuing her cartel work, in defiance of the Eternal Empire?

There was never a question that Eva would never bend the knee to the Eternal Empire, and there was never a question that Theron would join the organization would save the galaxy.   

It was just a question that if their paths crossed later…would they?  Could they?  She would be worse (she was sure of it), but would Theron…have someone else?  Gotten better about his attachment issues?  Or would he just be in that devotional state to a cause, his personal life an empty quarters on Odessen, decked out with the basics, his clothes and shave kit, and nothing more?

If their paths crossed earlier?

Or was it only in that moment, that one second when they decided they were both going to the cantina after Darok’s debrief that was the space that ‘they’ could start to exist? 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

She looked up at the familiar voice, pressed into an unfamiliar form.  Eva had learned that the correct response, whilst wearing evening gloves, was to extend her hand toward the voice and either get a firm hearty handshake or to have lips graze the top of the satin fabric. 

Now it was here, as he bowed low to grasp her red satin hand and kiss the knuckles, just off to the side of a ring (which had to be real, because their audience could spot a fake a parsec off).  His hair curled, as he never let it in daily life.  The suit was expensive, and he’d probably rented it or borrowed it from someone on base with a more active social life who actually did take leave. 

Eva rose to her feet as he straightened up, still grasping her hand. 

“I’m sure it’s always a pleasure to meet you,” Eva replied, the people around them chuckling at the joke or the audacity. 

Theron’s eyes lit up, not an act, and he took her signal to escort her out to the dancefloor.

There was a mission.  There was an objective. 

And then there was them, spinning around, always coming together, somehow. 

~~

@fluffyfebruary

[ooops-i-arted]

Season 3 Episode 2 child development thoughts?????

Hey so you know how I've been beating the drum FOREVER of "won't it be so cool when Grogu feels more confident in himself and can be more proactive in the story?" WELL NOW WE DID IT!!!

Maybe not quite that level yet but HE SAVED DAD!! He did it!! Even when he felt afraid, probably overwhelmed, likely fighting the instinct to stay with Dad and use the Force, he did it! He conquered his own fears and kept his clarity of mind (like a Jedi) and used his Force powers and what he'd been taught by Din to quickly and readily get Din help. I AM SO PROUD OF MY BABY!!! Look at how far he's come from a little scared baby hiding in a pod!!

Scooting back to the beginning, I loved how he proudly showed Peli he could jump (and she praised him like the good aunt she is). And.... was that Grogu's first word? It did sound a bit like "Peli." This is one of a few instances we get over this episode and the next of Grogu "talking." Not stock baby sounds, but clearly trying to emulate the speech of adults in his life. We know the species can speak Basic (Yoda, Yaddle, Oteg, Vandar) so either Grogu has been strongly discouraged from trying to speak before he was taken in by Din (my personal theory) or he has a physical issue in his mouth structure that makes it difficult to speak (also a possibility but I'm not very knowledgeable, just what I've picked up from the wonderful speech pathologists at my job). I still think the real reason is a mute child is more marketable because most people don't actually like kids unless they're being cute props and not acting like actual kids. (Exhibit A: The reaction to young Anakin and Leia and being called brats for.....acting like normal kids. But let's move on from a personal pet peeve of mine.)

We've seen Din talk more and more to Grogu throughout the season as he grows more comfortable in a caretaker role, and he continues this by teaching Grogu about "their" culture. (Grogu is officially a Mandalorian now!) It's plot-relevant but it's also wonderful to see Din take an active role in Grogu's education. Din has seen the dangers of the galaxy and wants Grogu prepared, and I think he enjoys having someone to share his knowledge with and teach and parent. Grogu is clearly into it, facing Din, listening closely to him (and we KNOW when he chooses not to listen, he shows it).

Grogu showing empathy for R5 and being worried about it shows that he is developing social-emotional skills. Kids are pretty egocentric by design; they can't always meet their own needs and have to make sure they can direct an adult to get their physical, emotional, and mental needs met. Preschool is when we start teaching respect and compassion for others more purposefully (it should be modeled at all times - kids emulate what they see) because they're typically in a classroom setting and interacting with people more. While Din does do a lot of violence and killing for money, Grogu has also seen him speak politely to others, take care of people like Frog Lady when they need help, respect others' space by ducking in Kuiil and the Anzellans' dwellings, talk respectfully to others even when they disagree, so on. Din is actually a pretty good model, you know, minus the violence and the killing. I do my best to model at all times what I want my kids to act like, big moments (guiding them in using words when upset) and small (saying excuse me when I bump them, please and thank you when I ask them to do something, etc). It pays off because now my class sees and learns the expectations and by this time of the year, they aren't typically yelling across the room "Miss L he took my toy!" they're saying "I was using that, please give it back" and then coming over if needed to say "Miss L, can you help me? I was playing with that and [Friend] took it." Grogu has absorbed what Din is showing him. In turn, we see this again when Din takes Grogu's concerns seriously and reacts accordingly. To Din it's just a droid, but Grogu is worried, and Grogu can trust that Din will respond to that worry and reassure him either verbally, letting him watch on the scanner, or by fetching their poor droid friend. Grogu learns from Din because he trusts him and believes in him - just like my students learn from me and value what I say because I have demonstrated that I care about them, will treat them with respect, and can be a reliable person when they need me, and we have built a relationship off that.

We also once again see Grogu demonstrate a secure, healthy relationship with Din and the worth of Din's parenting by immediately going into his pod and sealing it when asked. A child who does not have consistent expectations or boundaries will test them to try and figure them out. Grogu knows that Dad means what he says and trusts that Din is telling him to get in the pod for a good reason, and will come get him when pod time is done. So he listens.

I loved seeing Grogu try to save Din. He's acting independently, but it's clear he's learned some skills from Din and Luke. He's able to successfully sneak right up to Din and would've probably gotten him out if the machinery hadn't clanged. He listens to Din when told to go, which had to be hard - it's scary to leave Dad even when Dad isn't in trouble! But he really shows off his cognitive skills. He's able to think through sneaking up to Dad. He's able to focus and use the Force well enough to leap several times. He shows memory skills by being able to track their path back to the N-1 and then show Bo the way back. He reacts quickly and adapts to any obstacles, even though he was scared. We see later when he's with Bo, he's much more scared and hesitant. He was definitely afraid of those dangers, but was able to push through it and not be ruled by emotion alone. That's a great show of maturity and I'm so proud of him!! His display of memory skills continues as he "communicates" to R5 to take him to Kalevala, remembering what Din has taught him. I also wonder if this will keep motivating him to keep trying to speak. Grogu wants to communicate so much! He knows it would be easier and I bet he's bursting with things to tell Din!

I was also wondering if he was able to control his pod, and yes, he finally can! This shows that not only he has matured enough to be more independent, he is trustworthy enough that Din knows he won't wander off and will be safe. The last three pods have all had controls via Din's gauntlet. Grogu could open and close the red-and-white one but we saw no ability to control it. But now he gets a big boy pod! This will really help him be more independent and proactive and safe and I think it will be good for him, so that he can keep developing his self-confidence in his own independence while still being safe. Din probably feels better knowing Grogu can escape dangers and isn't as totally reliant on him as he was in previous seasons.

Overall this was a really solid episode for Grogu. We've really seen how he's learned and matured. I hope this season gives him even more character development, and while I maintain my opinion that Disney would prefer a mute, cute-baby-noises character to better sell merch.... I hope I'm wrong and we're building up towards Grogu speaking!!

[anchanted-one]

Legend of Lightning 67: The Revanchist

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/116433181

No one in the Council spoke. Some of Oteg’s friends exchanged triumphant grins.

“You might as well settle up right here,” Satele told them. The soldiers all gave her indignant looks, but one or two either reached for their pockets, or held out hands expectantly.

Revan chuckled. “I see you take after me, then.”

“I saw a few holos from the old days,” Satele said glibly. “I saw your ‘A Jedi and a Soldier’ act, then I thought I could pull it off better than you.”

That elicited a round of hearty chuckles.

“You asked Oteg to explain himself,” Revan began again. “But in truth, I think it falls to me to explain.”

“The only goal of Master Oteg’s secret expedition was to rescue you,” Jaric said shortly. “How is that?”

His capacity for speech was returning, Satele noted.

“A tad oversimplified, but not untrue,” Revan bowed his head. “I am aware that it wasn’t an easy undertaking. Hundreds of ships and thousands of soldiers had to be moved in total secret with a singular purpose. Many died trying to rescue me. I will forever be grateful to them, and to my old friend for making this decision. But take heart; for their sacrifice has given you a tool that can single-handedly turn the tide in your war.” He gave another, more formal bow. “I am Revan, Hero of the Mandalorian Wars, Jedi Master and Sith Lord. I have resisted the Emperor for hundreds of years. I am his match, his nemesis. I will defend the Republic from his fell gaze, as I did before, as I did for years. I gave my life to this fight, and thought I am bloody and bruised, I’m still fighting. This time, I will save the Galaxy from him.” There was an undertone to his voice, a raw charisma that swept people away to share in its confidence. All the soldiers looked at him with reverence and awe. The pink-haired man behind him even stopped trying to eye Nariel. “And I ask only one thing in return,” Revan went on. “Do not surrender to the Emperor. Even if the Republic is forced to, even if the rest of the Galaxy turns on you, do not stop. For I have seen what hides beyond the veil, and I know that only Darkness awaits a galaxy where he reigns supreme—”

“Yes, Vajra told us much the same thing,” Jaric interrupted.

Revan staggered slightly. “Excuse me?”

“One of our younger Knights,” Satele responded. “Perhaps Oteg told you about him? No? I imagine you had a lot to catch up on. Vajra Devarath is a Knight who ran into one of the Emperor’s agents, a so-called ‘Child of the Emperor’. The Emperor was able to engulf Vajra using his agent as an intermediary.”

“By his own account, it wasn’t the Emperor’s full might,” Bela added. “But it was enough to overwhelm him. He managed to break free, and save his Padawan with him.”

“They saved each other,” Satele clarified “Or at least, that’s how Vajra puts it. His former Padawan Kira, on the other hand, gives him full credit. In any case, he too spoke about the Emperor much as you did.”

Revan looked impressed. “He sounds like a solid Jedi. I’d like to meet him, if I may.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible right now,” Satele shook her head. Revan looked disappointed. “Still, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell us about the mission, so that your soldiers can leave. They look like they could use a visit to the cantina.”

Revan smiled. “As you wish. Jerre, Roban, why don’t you give your accounts to the Council?”

“Yes, Sir.” The tall Zabrak walked to the front. Satele belatedly recognized him. Roban Queens. He had smashed Vajra in the jaw after the latter had, in Queens’ opinion, allowed a dangerous fugitive to escape. That had been the first time that Vajra had filed a formal complaint against someone. A complaint which had seen Garza reprimanded and demoted, with General O’Brien given her post as head of Special Forces.

She wondered if the Zabrak still harbored a grudge.

“Master Oteg reached out to me and others in our strike force one month ago,” he said. His back was held upright, his chin high. His eyes were fixed straight ahead of him, though he kept glancing at Satele every now and then. “He outlined a high-risk raid on the Imperial world of Taral V. There was an advanced Gree transponder held by the science department there that would allow us to safely navigate the Maelstrom nebula, where the Maelstrom prison was. A prison, which we would only later find out, was built to hold one, single prisoner. His face became awe itself, and he shook his head in disbelief. The others nodded behind him.

“We were able to secure the device,” Queens went on. “We took a few hours to recover before jumping straight to the Prison, so as to avoid the chances of word leaking out. Captain Kraot here, got our team past the point defences.”

Satele recognized the name. Jerre Kraot was one of the civilians who had helped Vajra twice. The first time was in the Galactic Market sector of Coruscant, the other when he helped Vajra save hundreds of Power Guards from Imperial captivity. Vajra had been full of praise for him and his Captain, as had Nariel Pridence a few months later, for aiding against a Sith… though some records she had seen claimed that he and Juun Stede were smugglers.

“Jerre offered us his expertise free of charge,” Oteg revealed. “Though I must insist we reimburse him for the ship. They were forced to leave it behind during their escape.”

“We’ll pay it back, plus ten percent of the cost,” Satele agreed. “That’s the standard rate for lost ships. In addition, I think you do deserve compensation for a job well done.”

“It’s true. We’re getting paid, aren’t we?” the Cathar Havoc member nodded.

“Besides, you’re the one who killed Grand Moff Kilran,” Oteg smiled. “And that’s one more breakthrough for our side; another of the Butchers of Coruscant lies dead. Only Malgus remains, now. I hope he’s getting nervous!”

“Kilran personally defended Revan’s cell,” Queens explained. “He had a small army of not just elite soldiers, but Sith too.”

“I didn’t recognize any of them, but they were the best warriors I’ve ever faced,” Harunobu put in. “I think they might have been disguised Imperial Guardsmen. The only reason we won was because Captain Kraot slipped away and saved Revan.”

“Ah got hit,” Kraot said, looking uneasy. “Ah played dead, intendin’ to flank em and turn their turrets against them… but then… the Voice prompted that ah save the prisoner. Um not too much inta this Force thing, but ahm glad ah listened. Twas a perfectly even game out there. Revan’s charge into their rear caused them to crumple. Ah shot the dirty butcher muhself. E looked stunned, as if e never thought he could die. Said that there wuz so much e still wanted t’ conquer…”

“He’s dead now,” Queens smiled in grim satisfaction. “Sergeant Dorne confirmed it.”

“Explain what you mean when you said ‘the Voice,’” Satele prompted.

“I had help in planning this mission,” Oteg was the one to answer her. “A plea from one no longer among the living, one who wanted Revan to be freed. To be honest, I didn’t know what to make of it when I heard Malak’s voice again. We hadn’t parted on good terms, so this sounded like a trick, but—”

“But the Force offers redemption to any who seek it,” Revan said with unfailing certainty. “Malak was a good man, once, before the Emperor corrupted his heart. In death, he found himself again. It is his strength that has helped me stay sane and strong, all these long centuries. He must have Sensed that I was needed again, that my continued resistance no longer meant anything. For it was through my Will alone that the Emperor did not invade sooner.”

Satele did not like the way he put that.

“I think we can dismiss everyone else now,” Oteg suggested. “Padawan Fia, see to it that my comrades are allotted lodgings for the night, would you?”

“Yes, Master.” The Padawan on duty bowed and led the soldiers out of the room.

“Now, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty details, shall we?” Master Nikil asked.

“Yes. What did the Emperor want from you?” Tol asked.

“The same tool I now plan to use against him,” Revan replied. “A Rakatan super factory called the Foundry, which is on par with the fabled Star Forge, in its own way. While the Star Forge could churn out hundreds of ships every day, the Foundry can mass produce war droids and munitions.” He looked around at the Councillors. “I know that war is not what the Jedi stand for, but this is defence. The last war saw billions dead—on both sides of course, but the Republic is proving slower to recover. Give me fifty Jedi, and help me negotiate with the Republic. If I could have a navy capable of protecting the factory, or shipping the droids where we need them to go, we could have all Republic worlds ready for when the hostilities resume.”

“That is a tall order,” Satele replied. She was reluctant to give him any real answer. This was all too sudden for her. “We needed time to think—"

“The Council in my era needed time,” Revan said meaningfully. “When the Mandalorians attacked. Even when the war had entered its final days, they still refused to act. They didn’t even refuse us outright! Until the very last day, we held out hope that our Masters would join us. They never did. It’s a terrible situation for a Jedi, to not have the Council at their back in a time of crisis. Don’t be like Vrook and Atris. Accept the reality that threatens to engulf you all.”

“You needn’t lecture us,” Satele said, injecting some heat into her voice. “We are well aware of the danger. Coruscant was sacked just under seven years ago. The Temple there is still in ruins. The Sith tried to destroy Tython too, just last year! The whole planet! Angral’s dread superweapon… Uphrades is gone; seventeen million killed as a mere test for that weapon. Half our territory was taken from us, including Balmorra! And we only kept our grip on Alderaan by the skin of our teeth.”

“Then you understand the threat…”

“Understanding isn’t the problem,” Syo said. “Not only are you asking us to give you fifty Jedi, you want us to endorse your project… without telling us your plans? We’re critically low on manpower, you know. We couldn’t even field many Jedi to save ourselves from Angral!”

“Indeed,” Jaric nodded severely. “We indulged Master Oteg’s theatricality, given his experience. But we cannot trust you. Not to this degree.”

“I see,” Revan slowly circled the room, passing in front of every Councillor in turn. It was so unnerving to have someone from the old legends jump out at you like this! And it just had to be her ancestor! She imagined everyone in the room was thinking about her outlook. Every decision she made in this regard might be seen as potentially biased, either in her ancestor’s favor because of their connection, or against it in an attempt to prove impartiality. “Keep this in mind, however. The Emperor will come. Sooner rather than not, since I am free now. He won’t want to give you the chance to use my knowledge. Expect a full-fledged attack within the year. The longer you take, the less time I’ll have to build up our numbers. I need at least five months for an army that will number in the trillions. We could even build models like my old HK unit, who was a challenge to most Force users.” He looked around again. Satele felt a careful neutrality in everyone’s bearing. “And this may need to be part of your discussion: I will need as much secrecy as you can get me, for my operation to work. It will be a disaster if the Senate catches wind of it. There’s no telling how many Senators already serve the Empire, or how many more would sell their secrets for the right price. Even if you don’t trust me, don’t let word of me leak out. Furthermore, do not reject what I have to say out of hand. I will accept whatever oversight you feel you need to put in place. I accept that every Jedi you assign me will report on my every movement. And I accept that you can pull the plug on me at any time. I do realize what I’m asking of you.”

“We appreciate it,” Bela said blandly.

“How much time will you take to deliberate?”

“Give us a few days,” Oteg said confidently. “Like your descendant said, we’re well aware of the looming threat.”

“Good. In the meantime, I’d like the run of the place. Have a look around. See what the Order is like today.”

Satele could not Sense any objections to the request.

“Agreed, with conditions,” she said. “Minders. Restricted access to tomes. And you won’t be allowed near the reliquaries, Masters’ chambers, or sensitive areas. You may have been a Jedi Master once, but we will need to confirm whether your long captivity has jeopardized your serenity.”

“Now that I think about it, have you checked to see if he is, indeed Revan?” Jaric asked Oteg, who nodded.

“I should remind the Council that I knew Revan.”

“Oh… right. Sorry, I’d forgotten. You even mentioned it.”

“I accept your limitations,” Revan smiled. “In fact, I applaud them. The Dark Side is insidious. Never trust without verifying first.” He nodded in approval and respect. “I’m glad that the Jedi of this era understand the necessities of war.” He thought for a second. “I think I’ll visit the training yard. I’d like to see what kind of Jedi I have to work with. And if you can arrange a meeting with this ‘Vajra’…”

“No,” there was a glimmer of steel in Satele’s words which gave even Revan pause. “He’s off limits for the time being.”

“As you wish,” he said. He left, followed closely by the other Jedi from Oteg’s team.

“What was that about, Grand Master?” Tol asked.

“You felt it, didn’t you? Revan’s legendary charisma,” Satele leaned back in her seat. “That man once convinced thousands of Jedi to follow him to war. It doesn’t matter if he was right or not; what matters is that he can move all but the most resolute hearts. And Vajra is not in a good place right now. If Revan speaks to him, he will be persuaded to follow. I’m not sure we want that. I’ll inform him right away to leave the training yard, if he’s there.”

Jaric and Bela nodded in fervent agreement, followed by Gnost. Others slowly acquiesced as well. But Satele could feel the slight heat of suspicion linger in the air. Her vehemence today had been noted by at least a few of these Masters.

*

Vajra led his friends through the basic saber drills of Form I. They moved at a leisure pace, but kept their movements and footwork strong. Vajra kept a particularly close eye on Jasme to ensure that her muscles were engaged without being overexerted. She was still in her first month of training, after all.

Jasme felt grateful as she listened to the young Raudra’s instructions, or watched him demonstrate a move correctly. He should be dead, gone without a trace. She still had nightmares of carrion beasts picking his corpse in the wilderness somewhere. Of years passing by without a shadow of a trace. Of a lifetime spent wondering what had become of him.

Someone had saved Vajra, and she wished she knew who. All she could do now was thank the stars that she was here, in this beautiful morning sunlight, learning the art of the Lightsaber from the best friend she could have asked for.

That he was the Jedi Order’s greatest swordsman, was a fringe benefit. Or such a good teacher, for that matter; Bengel Morr had improved in leaps and bounds in the span of a few lessons. The two were good friends now, bonding over their Master. In addition, Bengel was grateful that Vajra had ensured that the children the former had led astray, had been cared for.

They were only ten minutes into the session when Bengel received a priority message.

“It’s from the Grand Master,” he said, looking troubled. “It says to take Vajra back to his room at once, and allow him no unauthorized visitors.”

“I’ll go on then. Jasme and Seraphim can continue practising,” Vajra suggested. “Kira can watch how you’re doing for me.”

“Alright, but you’re making this up to me,” Jasme said with her best pout. “Not that I hate you, Kira.”

“Got it.”

“I hope I can get authorization,” Seraphim said. “I like these lessons! You’re a good teacher!”

“Thanks!”

“Hurry, please,” Bengel pulled him away. “The Grand Master isn’t known for being whimsical.”

Kira rounded on them and spoke crisply. “Alright then; bookworm, coxswain! Who said you two could slack off? I wanna see some sweat!”

“‘Cocks wain,’ now, am I?” Seraphim grinned. “Reducing my whole existence to one body part?”

Kira slapped his butt. “That’s right, coxswain. Shape up there!”

“Hey, beats ‘bookworm!’” Jasme said in mock sadness. “Not something that can work in bed.”

“I said move! Lift those arms! Strike like you’re slapping the bitch out of Darth Kaimeryn!” ¹

“But she strikes me as the type that likes getting spanked!”

Kira considered that for a second, rubbing her head in mockery of deep thought. “Yeah… I can see that.” She waved it away. “Spank her anyway! You’ll feel better than she does!² Alright then, one, two, three!” Jasme struck out and pulled back in time to Kira’s brisk claps. “Good! Once more, with feeling! One, two, three!”

*

Revan arrived at the private training field just in time to see the three humans calling it a day. He knew the girl was Satele’s at once. Her features were exactly the same as her mother’s. Unlike Satele, however, her smile was full of life and passion. She had the whole world ahead of her, unbound by Jedi dogma. But her ability in the Force was small. Miniscule, actually. Barely good enough to move a twenty-kilo stone. And yet… Raya had been that weak at the start, but her dedication had allowed her to be a Jedi without peer.

The only reason why Revan was so fixated on his descendant—other than their relationship—was because of Satele’s curious response to his request to meet this Jedi who had faced the Emperor, this ‘Vajra’. Was this her? It made sense! His bloodline was strong and sure, as evidenced by Satele being one of the youngest Grand Masters he’d ever heard of. Surely another of his descendants might have his resilience to the Galaxy’s greatest threat? And the timing! Right before his release!

Despite Satele’s warning, he knew he had to get closer to her daughter. He had to get Vajra to his side. The Force practically demanded it. But he could not approach her himself. But whom to ask?

Perhaps Oteg or one of the other Jedi from his team…? No. Oteg aside, most of them would feel a greater loyalty to Satele than to him. And Oteg seemed like he was in enough trouble. Perhaps Nariel could be talked into it—no he was certain he could do it—but simple people knew no such thing as discretion. If he used her, Satele might hear about his violation of her orders. If she had Bastila’s stubbornness… or worse, his own…

The soldiers, then? No… the two leaders of Havoc Squad were wary of all Jedi, himself included. Jerre then? No, the pilot was going to be very busy. He sighed. As ever, it seemed he was alone. He would have to approach her himself.

But he couldn’t do so hastily. He would need to find a time when he could work in secret… he followed as closely as he dared as Vajra and her friends descended into a level he wasn’t cleared for.

Soon, he promised himself. We will meet soon. Together, we will save the galaxy from a monster. I am sorry, Satele.

*

Jasme entered Vajra’s room to find him looking very preoccupied.

“Kira wanted a bath. And Seraphim some rest. What’s with him?” she asked Bengel.

“A letter,” Bengel whispered back. “Maybe Ranna sent him something he can’t get his eyes off of.”

“Ranna doesn’t send holomail,” Jasme pointed out.

“I can hear you, remember?” Vajra breathed. She sighed. It was easy to forget that his hearing was better than most other humanoids’.

“Okay then. Spill it. What’s up?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Sure it is.” Jasme was disappointed. He almost never kept something from her. “Promise me you’ll say something if—”

“I will.” His eyes moved back to the top of the screen. How many times was he going to reread that one mail? And it had to be the same one, his fingers hadn’t touched the controls.

“Good.” Jasme let it drop. Behind her, the door opened, and in walked the Grand Master, followed by Doctor Row.

Satele took one look at Vajra and stopped short. Something seemed to click in her head, so loudly that Jasme thought she could hear it. Her mother actually went scarlet, and Jasme looked over at Vajra with a wide grin.

“Someone’s looking—”

“Not right now,” Satele interrupted her. “I have an important warning for you, Vajra. And an order.”

“Yes, Master.”

“You will stay inside the psych ward for the next couple of days. We have a… troublesome visitor. I have a feeling he’ll try to make contact with you. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Are you gonna tell us more?” Jasme asked.

Satele hesitated. “It’s Revan. Yes, that one. Apparently, he’s still alive, all these centuries after his disappearance. The Emperor kept him so, attempting to extract some kind of secret from him.”

“The Emperor… kept him alive?!” Jasme was incredulity itself. She looked at an unmoved Vajra. “Why aren’t you surprised?” she demanded.

Vajra shrugged. “So, what does he want with me?”

“He wants your help in defeating the Emperor,” Satele answered. “We made a mistake. When he was talking about how grave a threat the Emperor was, Jaric remarked that you’d already told us much of it. And that led to a brief explanation of your encounter that day. Revan was impressed enough to ask if he could meet you. Twice.” She massaged her shoulders, as though they were cold. “I have a bad feeling about this, Vajra. I Sense he’s not lied to us yet, and that he is on our side. But I don’t want him speaking to you. I’m sure you’ve read his history; he made a career out of keeping his own counsel. He only ever obeyed a Master if it suited him. And they were his elders. He sees us as children. Hell, I am literally his descendant, and I am the Grand Master!” She massaged her temples now. Jasme wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t. Not with Bengel and Doctor Row around.  “I can only restrict his movements to a degree. So much as he himself allows it.” She sounded extremely miffed.

“Master Darach loved to say that the position of Grand Master comes with little real power,” Doctor Row said softly. “I think you should step down, for your own sanity.”

“And while I’m at it, I should leave the Council too,” Mom almost snapped. “And the Jedi. Live openly as a wife and mother… if the family I walked away from even accepts me. I know Theron won’t.” She swallowed whatever else she had to say. “That’s all I had to say. I’m sorry, Vajra.”

“Looks like you’re grounded,” Doctor Row informed Vajra slyly, making him and Mom blush again.

“I really think we need to talk,” Jasme said sweetly.

The Grand Master’s response was a sour mumble.

[marta-bee]

I finally got to the end of “Wednesday,” the first present-day section of Good Omens. It just keeps going and going and going, and I for one still wasn’t ready for it to be over. It’s also the end of what I’d previously read years ago, so everything coming up book-specific is new to me. How exciting is that?

No deep thoughts, I’m afraid, except as someone who was just on the cusp of political awareness around the time it was published  .... this section is truly hilarious.

A man threw himself through the window, a knife between his teeth, a Kalashnikov automatic rifle in one hand, a grenade in the other.

"I glaim gis oteg id der gaing og der-" he paused. He took the knife out of his mouth and began again. "I claim this hotel in the name of the pro-Turkish Liberation Faction!"

The last two holidaymakers remaining on the island [Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Threlfall, of 9, The Elms, Paignton. They always maintained that one of the nice things about going on holiday was not having to read the newspapers or listen to the news, just getting away from it all really. And due to a tummy bug contracted by Mr. Threlfall, and Mrs. Threlfall rather overdoing it in the sun their first day, this was their first time out of their hotel room for a week and a half.] climbed underneath their table. Red unconcernedly withdrew the maraschino cherry from her drink, put it to her scarlet lips, and sucked it slowly off its stick in a way that made several men in the room break into a cold sweat.

The pianist stood up, reached into his piano, and pulled out a vintage sub-machine gun. "This hotel has already been claimed by the pro-Greek Territorial Brigade!" he screamed. "Make one false move, and I shoot out your living daylight!"

There was a motion at the door. A huge, black-bearded individual with a golden smile and a genuine antique Gatling gun stood there, with a cohort of equally huge although less impressively armed men behind him.

"This strategically important hotel, for years a symbol of the fascist imperialist Turko-Greek running dog tourist trade, is now the property of the Italo-Maltese Freedom Fighters!" he boomed affably. "Now we kill everybody!"

"Rubbish!" said the pianist. "Is not strategically important. Just has extremely well-stocked wine cellar!"

"He's right, Pedro," said the man with the Kalashnikov, "That's why my lot wanted it. 11 General Ernesto de Montoya said to me, he said, Fernando, the war'll be over by Saturday, and the lads'll be wanting a good time. Pop down to the Hotel de Palomar del Sol and claim it as booty, will you?"

The bearded man turned red. "Is bloddy important strategically, Fernando Chianti! I drew big map of the island and is right in the middle, which makes it pretty bloddy strategically important, I can tell you."

"Ha!" said Fernando. "You might as well say that just because Little Diego's house has a view of the decadent capitalist topless private beach, that it's strategically important!"

The pianist blushed a deep red. "Our lot got that this morning," he admitted. There was silence.

In the silence was a faint, silken rasping. Red had uncrossed her legs.

The pianist's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Well, it's pretty strategically important," he managed, trying to ignore the woman on the bar stool. "I mean, if someone landed a submarine on it, you'd want to be somewhere you could see it all."

Silence.

"Well, it's a lot more strategically important than this hotel anyway," he finished.

Pedro coughed, ominously. "The next person who says anything. Anything at all. Is dead." He grinned. Hefted his gun. "Right. Now everyone against far wall."

I don’t know if this was the standard experience of the tail-end of the Cold War, from someone who was just shy of 10 at the time. My family was first-generation America and still very European in a lot of ways, and not all of us living west of the Iron Curtain; so we probably talked more about the splintering of communism than a lot of Americans did. I think I was the only kid in 2nd grade who knew what the Polish Solidarity movement was, let alone had a definite opinion on it. Still: I still can’t help but smile at references to the Italo-Maltese Freedom Fighters.

Maybe you just had to be there. Or be me. Or something. But this is peak humor, I’m telling you.

I’m also really fascinated by this description of the sword War will carry as one of the Four Riders:

It was a very straightforward sword, long and sharp; it looked both old and unused; and it had nothing ornamental or impressive about it. This was no magical sword, no mystic weapon of power and might. It was very obviously a sword created to slice, chop, cut, preferably kill, but, failing that, irreparably maim, a very large number of people indeed. It had an indefinable aura of hatred and menace.

So not Excalibur, or Anduril; not steeped in metaphor and symbolism, but a sword ready to get shit done. And for all that there’s no real detail beyond its efficacy at causing destruction. And that it’s not been used. It is storied; it’s relevant here because of its role in a story, and it’s symbolic of the moment somehow. It’s not been used; it’s been waiting for this. But it’s also distinctly real.

I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m explaining it very well. But it’s still fascinating to me.

Finally, I got curious about Carmine Zuigiber, the identity War is using around the time of this incident. It’s such an odd one. Some baby name sites connect Carmine to an Aramaic word for “crimson,” others to “garden” or “vine-dresser” which has some lovely Garden of Eden connections. But for the last name, I stumbled across this gem on Twitter:

That’s a real-life Carmine Zuigiber (named after the character) saying the name in the name originated with a typo. But because of the way Twitter loaded the page, it looked like Mr. Gaiman’s response to another tweet (this one of Carmine sharing a very red Coraline doll) was actually commenting on the below bits. Not affirming it, not saying they’re factually correct, but just that he thought the idea was wonderful. And all of it hinging on my not getting Twitter. Shades of members of a certain chattering order winking at each other, that. I love it.

You know what else I love? I googled some more, and it turns out Zingiber is the plants whose roots are turned into ginger. That’s right; Red’s chosen name is Crimson Ginger. Shades of Legolas Greenleaf. I do believe I’m in love.

[entrepalabrasmx]

El Observatorio Turístico es fundamental para implementar la sostenibilidad en los destinos

El OTEG es una herramienta que analiza el comportamiento de la actividad turística.

La Organización Mundial de Turismo aplaude a Guanajuato por mantener el Observatorio Turístico.

Guanajuato mantiene una estrecha relación con la Organización Mundial de Turismo (OMT), organismo que ha aplaudido al Estado por mantener y actualizar el Observatorio Turístico (OTEG) el cual es fundamental para la implementación de la sostenibilidad en los destinos.

Previo a la inauguración de la 7ma. Edición del “Sustainable & Social Tourism Summit” que, por segundo año consecutivo se realizó en Poliforum León, se llevó a cabo la Reunión de Grupo Técnico del Observatorio Turístico del Estado de Guanajuato en donde estuvo presente Juan José Álvarez Brunel, Secretario de Turismo de Guanajuato, acompañado -por primera vez- de Dirk Glaesser, Director de Desarrollo Sostenible de Turismo de la OMT; y del sector turístico.

“Es importante ser conscientes que el OTEG es una herramienta muy útil que no sólo nos da el comportamiento que la actividad turística tuvo en el pasado, sino que nos brinda información determinante para la toma de decisiones del rumbo a seguir en las estrategias de todos los involucrados en el sector turístico”, apuntó Juan José Álvarez.

Las principales mediciones del OTEG -que permiten mejorar la competitividad del sector con un enfoque de sostenibilidad e inclusión social- son: llegada de turistas, ocupación hotelera, visitantes a museos y zonas arqueológicas, satisfacción del visitante, empleo en turismo, derrama económica, gasto promedio diario, nivel de recomendación del visitante.

Así como la contribución al Producto Interno Bruto estatal, inversión pública en turismo, inversión privada en turismo, apertura de nuevas empresas, mercados emisores, calidad del aire, y huella de carbono en eventos.

De acuerdo con el OTEG, de enero a junio, llegaron al Estado de Guanajuato 10 millones 599 mil 009 visitantes, quienes han dejado una derrama económica de 24 mil 811 millones 109 mil 851 pesos; y 2 millones 182 mil 336 turistas, quienes han ocupado un millón 504 mil 287 cuartos, cifra que representa un porcentaje de ocupación del 35%.

“Guanajuato nos ha inspirado un montón con los avances que han hecho institucionalmente y el cómo están reflejando, con sus análisis, el mercado; están en buen camino y tienen que avanzar constantemente”, aplaudió Dirk Glaesser.

“Nosotros, OMT, agradecemos el compromiso de mantener el OTEG; por ello hemos invitado a Guanajuato a procesos internacionales porque decimos que en el turismo las competencias están a nivel sub-nacional, en este nivel hay que reconocer, hay que actuar, y hay que ayudar con sistemas que miden, esa discusión es fundamental para la implementación de la sostenibilidad”, puntualizó.

En una breve reflexión del turismo a nivel internacional, el Director de Desarrollo Sostenible de Turismo de la OMT, señaló que la organización ha analizado las políticas subnacionales del turismo, a través de los patrones de consumo y la producción, y “más de 100 de ellas hablan de la sostenibilidad como un factor importante”.

Si no cambiamos el rumbo a la sostenibilidad, la próxima pandemia será más grave. Los impactos sobre el Ébola, Zika y ahora COVID 19 han sido cada vez más graves, y esto vincula la necesidad de ser un sector más resiliente. La resiliencia es cuando se crean estrategias sustentables para adaptarse a cambios extremos y crisis”, advirtió Dirk.  

El secretario alentó a la industria turística y a los municipios a seguir colaborando con el OTEG -modelo a seguir en el país- y fortalecerse como sector.

Ven a Guanajuato y Vive Grandes Historias.

Para más información, consulta la página de la Secretaría de Turismo www.sectur.guanajuato.gob.mx

[babyawacs]

.@law @law @harvard_law .@harvard_law @bbc_whys @all @world ‎ canmykids understand enemy of state quell for coverup intelotch i ntelcrimes of criminalgovernance they are p a v e d with errors and mistakes andhow germans shuffled toharm medival freeforall vogelfrei as pr otege of the usa uk grew to

.@law @law @harvard_law .@harvard_law @bbc_whys @all @world canmykids understand enemy of state quell for coverup intelotch intelcrimes of criminalgovernance they are p a v e d with errors and mistakes andhow germans shuffled toharm medival freeforall vogelfrei as protege of the usa uk grew to nationalchampion but screaming baby on openwindow shelf allalong quelledexposure toharm avertedfortune…

[swtorpadawan]

This Moment

Author’s Notes: The following story takes place in my Halcyon Legacy storyline during the five-year gap from Knights of the Fallen Empire. Content warnings for character death and implied character death. Seriously people – there’s some angst in this one, along with some negative tropes that I couldn’t completely avoid.

Slumped against the ruined wall of what had effectively become a foxhole, Nalen Raloch flinched as Bengel Morr wrapped the last of their kolto-pads around his injured left arm. Above them, the skies of Tython had grown dark with smoke even though the local time was still late afternoon. Mere meters away, the sounds of battle continued to rage, as Zakuulan walkers rained down rockets and fire on their position.

The Twi’lek Jedi had taken a blaster bolt from a Skytrooper as they had dived for cover, and he was struggling to bare the pain. But he suspected that his anguished reaction came less from Bengel’s application of first aid and more to the sudden absence in the Force he’d felt in that same instant. Glancing into the Nautolan’s dark eyes and observing the flicker of hardening resolve, he understood immediately that Bengel had felt the same thing Nalen himself had, confirming what had taken place.

Ako Domi was dead. Killed buying his fellow two Jedi enough time to flee to this makeshift trench.

They were now the only survivors of their battlegroup; what had effectively become the rear guard covering the Order’s final evacuation from Tython. They had both felt the others fall, one by one, until they had reached this point.

And they’d just run out of room to run.

The forces of the Eternal Empire were taking no prisoners. They had laid waste to first to Tython’s defenses, then to the temple and now to everything in their path.

It was possible in this moment that Bengel and Nalen were the last two Jedi alive on Tython.

Dozens if not hundreds of Jedi and Republic soldiers had met the Force this day, demonstrating incredible courage every step of the way. They’d known rebuffing the attack was futile, of course, but they could still ensure the future of the Order. Even as the defenders had abandoned the temple, they had successfully drawn the Eternal Empire’s forces away from the main evacuation points. Despite the overwhelming odds, the Jedi had been able to extract most of their number from the planet in good order. But the small battlegroups of guardians and defenders who had screened them – including Bengel and Nalen’s – had paid a staggering price.

They’d been preparing for this day for months. The Zakuulan invasion had stormed into the Republic unchecked, despite countless sacrifices by the Jedi and the Republic military just to slow it down. A few weeks before, Satele Shan, the Grandmaster of the Order and one of the few members of the council still alive, had gone missing during a mission to cut behind the Eternal Empire’s lines. Some who knew her were convinced that she was still alive – that they hadn’t felt her death through the Force – but regardless of the truth of the matter, her absence had finally signaled to everyone that the war was lost.  

Nalen didn’t know the details, but he knew the Jedi weren’t retreating to another Republic world, one where they’d only draw more attacks from Zakuul. Enough people had already died protecting them. Gnost-Dural, the Order’s greatest historian, had claimed he’d found a place for them to withdraw and recover, as they’d withdrawn to Tython nearly twenty years earlier after the Sack of Coruscant.

Now, amidst the Ruins of Kaleth, south of where the Jedi Temple had once stood, Nalen and Bengel were making their final stand.

As Bengel finished wrapping Nalen’s wound, the Twi’lek couldn’t help but appreciate the Nautolan’s gentle kindness. The feelings were in stark contrast to his reaction to meeting Bengel Morr years earlier.

Nalen distinctly remembered hating him. Hating him for directing the Flesh Raiders against not only the Jedi, but against the Twi’leks of Kalikori Village, his people, as well.

He felt no small amount of shame for that hatred, as well as the shame for the actions he himself had taken in those dark days.

In the years since then, Nalen had seen Bengel turn into the kind of Jedi he was always meant to be. Kind, compassionate, always willing to sacrifice of himself for others.

Proving that the Force moved in mysterious ways, it had been Bengel who had aided Nalen the most in acclimating to the ways of the Jedi.

Nalen himself had been old for a padawan, and his experiences with the holocron of Rajivari had left him in an incredibly dark place.

He could admit now that he’d needed Bengel’s support.

In the years since, they’d effectively become partners, ever since Nalen’s Knighting.          

Two years earlier, they’d both been absent on a reconnaissance expedition into the Flesh Raider territory in the Tythonian highlands when the forces of the Sith Empire – led by the infamous Darth Nox – had attacked Tython and briefly seized control of the temple. By the time their group had made it back, it was all over. The Jedi had regained their home and driven off the Imperials, but the losses had been high. It had been all they could do to aid in recovery efforts, helping the wounded… and counting the dead.

Both Nalen and Bengel had vowed that day to never allow such a thing to happen again.

Now the temple had fallen once again, this time literally. But if the bulk of the Jedi could escape, they’d make good on the promise made that day.

It would all be worth it.

Bengel lifted his head up as he finished patching up Nalen’s arm.

“The firing stopped.”

Nalen blinked, absent-mindedly checking his arm. He realized his companion was right; the whole valley seemed to have gone quiet. He heard only the crinkling of distant fire, and his own heavy breathing.  

The Nautolan cautiously risked a peek over the wall.

“They’re getting into position.” He reported, ducking back and sitting beside Nalen. “Skytroopers, Knights of Zakuul and Walkers. They know we’re here.”

Nalen simply nodded his head sharply, checking his lightsaber.

“How many?”

Bengel turned towards Nalen. Nautolans had a somewhat unfair reputation for frequently smiling with unnerving grins, even at questionably inappropriate times. Bengel’s smile usually wasn’t like that. It was slight, but sincere and kind. Just like Bengel himself was.

Nalen had often found comfort in that smile.

But today – in this moment – Bengel Morr gave Nalen the grimmest, toothiest smile Nalen had ever seen, teeth and all.

“All of them, I think.”

Nalen looked down and chuckled. He didn’t know what kind of answer he’d expected, but he took comfort in the fact that Bengel could still joke at a time like this.

Before he could respond, the Twi’lek’s holo-communicator beeped.

Reluctantly, Nalen pulled it out and activated it.

A small projection appeared of Master Ulannium Kaarz, Barsen’thor of the Order and one of the few remaining members of the council. The man who had once foiled Nalen’s misguided efforts to destroy the Jedi back when he’d been under the dark side’s thrall.

The Mirialan had grown since Nalen had first met him all those years before, when Ulannium had just been a padawan and Nalen had been Kalikori Village’s premier defender, revered by his people as a hero. His passion to protect the villagers had led him down a dark path; one that Ulannium in his mercy and wisdom had saved him from.

Ulannium had already been considered wise beyond his years even then. Since those days, he’d emerged as the finest Jedi Master of his generation, the youngest Jedi to sit on the council in centuries. Physically, his build was still rather slight, but he now stood tall as a Gen’Dai.

As was the case with Bengel, Nalen couldn’t begin to express how much he owed to the Jedi Master. Bengel might have aided him down this path, but it had been Ulannium who had started him on it.

“Master Ulannium.” Nalen dipped his head in a heartfelt greeting.

Ulannium had told him more than once that he could call him by his given name. He’d never taken him up on that offer.

“Nalen. The last transport is away.” Ulannium grimly reported. His voice was unfailingly calm, despite the obvious urgence of the situation. “Master Oteg led the remnants of the First Expeditionary Fleet in a last-ditch attack on the Eternal Fleet ships in orbit. It worked. They sacrificed themselves to give us a window to escape. We’re jumping to hyperspace in just a few minutes.”

Nalen exhaled in relief, and he noted the reassured look on Bengel’s face as well. Like Ulannium and Gnost-Dural, Oteg had served as a respected member of the Jedi Council these last few years, but no one had ever forgotten that he was first and foremost an admiral of the Republic fleet.

The Jedi Master’s sacrifice this day had proven that beyond all doubt.

“Good.” He swallowed. “Then it was all for something.”

Ulannium nodded and pressed on. Business as usual. For all his tone, he might have been discussing an archaeological expedition.

“You’ll also be relieved to know there’s no sign that the Zakuulans are moving against Kalikori Village.”

Nalen exhaled again. He’d refused to admit it aloud to his fellow Jedi, but his greatest worry all this time had been that the Eternal Empire would turn and wreck the same destruction upon the people he had protected as they had the Jedi.

“The fleet is almost ready. We haven’t been able to hail the other battle groups.” He didn’t need to express what that meant. “What’s the status of your team?”

The Twi’lek had expected this question. His answer was at the ready.

“Bengel and I are the only ones left, Master Ulannium.”

The Mirialan’s face turned grim.

“There might still be time.” He offered. Nalen appreciated the sentiment, even it was no more than a pipe dream at this point. “Can the two of you reach one of the extraction points?”

He knew the answer to this question as well, but he still hesitated, looking over towards his more experienced partner.

Bengel simply gave Nalen a slight shake of his head.

There was no sadness or despair in the Nautolan’s features; a trace of regret, perhaps, but there was also a resolve and acceptance. Whatever nightmares had plagued Bengel years ago when they’d first met, whatever had made him take control of the Flesh Raiders and to threaten Nalen’s people… Bengel was an entirely different man, today. He was still haunted by his own actions during those dark days, but he was determined to make up for them.  

That resolve filled Nalen with admiration and strengthened his own determination as he turned back to the projection of Ulannium.

“No.” he finally answered. “Don’t worry about us, Master Ulannium. Save the Jedi. Save our people. And…. thank you. Thank you for showing me a better path. Thank you for this chance. Thank you for everything.”

Nalen swallowed.

“It has been an honor.”

Through the holo-display, the Barsen'thor’s tired eyes softened.

“It’s been my honor to have known you, Nalen.” For a fleeting moment, Ulannium looked more like the young Jedi whom Nalen had met all those years ago, with a bright, limitless future ahead of him. “Thank you. May the Force be with you.”

The projection flickered then deactivated, leaving the Jedi alone.

Our people. Nalen had called the Order that for the first time today. If he’d felt like an outsider all these years, then now, in this moment at least, he was a Jedi.

He turned towards his companion. The Nautolan was gazing off into the distance.

“I saw the best Jedi of my generation fall to the Sith on Coruscant.” Bengel’s voice was sad, but clear. “Then I saw them try to do it again here on Tython two years ago.”

He turned towards Nalen, meeting his gaze.

“The Jedi will survive this day.” His confidence was infectious. “For my own part, as I see it, I’ve been living on borrowed time.”

Part of Nalen recognized that he felt the same. He padded Bengel’s knee affectionately, then rose, careful to keep his head down beneath the wall’s edge. Bengel followed suit a second later.

As Nalen gathered himself, he regarded Bengel, even now poised to leap out over the wall and give a final accounting of himself. Nautolans, as a species, preferred aquatic environments, he knew. Yet here, far from any body of water, Bengel was poised like a Nexu; grace and agility ready to explode with power.

For such a moment, Nalen felt he had to say something to express how he felt.

“Bengel… I just had a crazy idea.”

Seamlessly, Bengel turned back to Nalen questioningly. The Twi’lek found his courage and pressed on.

“When this is all over, would you like to join me at the cantina for a drink?”

Bengel’s dark eyes regarded Nalen, vacant for a moment.

The cantina – along with most of the Jedi temple – had been buried beneath tons of rubble hours before during the earlier attack.

The corners of Bengel’s lips turned upward in one of his kind smiles. It was full of warmth and made Nalen’s stomach turn over.

“I would like that.”

The Nautolan now reached out and offered Nalen his hand.

“You ready?”

Nalen smiled back. In this moment, he felt free. He reached out and grasped Bengel’s hand, squeezing it in his grip. This simple gesture communicating more than words ever could.

“I’m ready.”

He only wished they’d had more time.

But they had this moment. And that was something.

Moving in unison, the two Jedi leapt over the wall.

END

Author’s Notes: I don’t know how many of you have seen the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. It’s a fine film, even if it is mostly dated fiction. This story was largely inspired by the final scene of that film. The emotional connection between the two protagonists – romantic or not – left an impression.

Bengel’s little joke is a Terminator 2 reference. (I don’t know how many of you are old enough to catch that one, either.) The stereotype about Nautolans is a Kit Fisto reference.

I regret not writing much about Ulannium until now. I chose this as my next piece in part to resolve that.

We never hear about what happens to Nalen Raloch after Tython, albeit we do see Bengel on Corellia. Both characters deserved a proper follow up, as do Oteg, who we meet on the Republic side during the two “rescue Revan” Flashpoints.

Ako Domi is the Jedi who was imprisoned on Nar Shaddaa in Shadow Town by the Sith Empire and turned to the dark side. Republic players have a chance to either rescue (and redeem) him, or to execute him. If you spare him, you get a letter from Satele thanking you, and informing the player that he was recovering. We never hear a follow-up after this, but I like to think that he met his end as a Jedi. The idea of a group of Jedi who had each experienced turns under the dark side and were now serving as the Order’s final defense was a compelling idea for me.

Tagging @taraum​ @kyber-heart​ and @grandninjamasterren​ who all expressed interest in this premise in a post I put on Tumblr ages ago.

Also tagging cavalier-life @consularmain​ @cuchulainnx19​ @darksunning​  @imkerf-uffle-d​ @kemendin​ @kgoblin​ @lordviridis​ @sith-as-heck​ @starknstarwars​ @the-raven-of-highever​ @vexa-legacy​ for liking my Six Sentence Sunday updates.

[oftheeldestgodspod]

Charlie and Raye have finished their show coverage, so OTEG is returning to The Last Olympian. Here's our newest episode on chapter 10.

[xanthouransong]

More tiny gangs

[serenofroses]

the moment Lord Praven told her that her "fathers would be disappointed" in her, claiming she was a traitor to the Empire. Jazz doesn't believe his lies, but what Lord Praven didn't know was that after she was rescused from the rogue Sith's clutches, her parents sent her to the Jedi as per argement with Grandmaster Oteg to keep her safe and heal her mind... Jazz still wanted to see her fathers one day. To ask them questions with one wondering whether they're proud of her or ashamed by the fact she's a Jedi Knight.

Jazmyn “Jazz” Nevrakis: [24/?] sw:tor Nevrakis legacy.

[sullustangin]

New outfit for Risha and Eva when they do VATs (Very Awful Things).  Expert Outlaw.  Here, they’re unknowingly about to get involved with Revan.... and eventually (in my headcanon) sell info that will lead Malgus to the Foundry and the elimination of Revan from the cosmic scene... for a couple of years....

[piefanart]

Whens this guy gonna get his own series :(

[anchanted-one]

Legend of Lightning Chapter 66: Family, Found and Real

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/116106772

Tython

Vajra was apprehensive about going down memory lane, given his nightmares were populated by phantoms from his past. And yet, he also felt a deep relief, like he was acknowledging a portion of himself.

“Tell me about your family, your direct family. Start with your parents and… second mothers.”

“My mother was Anagha. I was her only child. She taught me a lot herself. How to stalk and hunt game, swim, fish, climb, wrestle, and how to cook. Jamuna taught me how to use the spear and sword. Not that it got very far; I just learned the basics. Shruthi was one of the women who watched over all the tribe’s children. She taught us all how to sing and dance. I loved dancing especially. My father Sanjaya was mute, but he was the strongest man in the village. He taught me how to listen, in addition to sign language. Our version, that is. It’s very practical, but limited. He also took me on a few excursions sometimes, to show me how to find my way through rough terrain. He let me ride the yaks sometimes.” Vajra chuckled. “They were hairy and smelly, but loyal and kind. They could and would drive away predators, but never attacked us.”

“Tell me about your siblings.”

“I had six half-sisters. Trilochana, Kali, Kamakshi, and Shreya were Shruthi’s daughters. Bhuvana and Swathi were Jamuna’s. Shreya was a year younger than me, Swathi was a month older. Trilochana was twelve. They were getting ready to put her through the first rite of passage, to prove that she was ready to be an apprentice.”

Unbidden, images formed in his head. Images of their corpses. Swathi’s mouth had been burned all through, probably a sign that Bellicose had fed her his Lightsaber. Trilochana had been sliced into fourths. He had found her with her face down, recognizable only by her favorite ornament; a pretty rock set in a hairpin. Shreya had been squashed under a rock, her bones crushed under the force. He hadn’t found the others before happening upon his mother’s body.

The memories did not raise much emotion within, other than a righteous anger against the Sith’s callous disregard for life. And a disgust at seeing innocent children dead.

“I can see where your mind went just by looking at your eyes,” the doctor sighed. “You remembered their deaths, didn’t you?”

Vajra nodded and told her what had come to him just now, and she shook her head in disgust.

“You may be relieved to not feel any torment, the way you do for Uphrades. But do you feel any sense of loss? Of longing?”

“A little.”

For the first time, Doctor Row looked angry with him. She rose out of her seat and began pacing the room. “Tell me. Imagine for a moment that you know you’ll lose your emotions again one day, including your feelings for Jasme and Kira. How would you react to that knowledge? Are you willing to let your love for your friends be excised?”

Vajra shivered. He could not answer.

“Now think about this; based on what you told me, you loved your family a great deal more than you do the girls in your life today. Imagine that. Imagine what you have lost, in exchange for that peace of mind. Was it worth it?”

Again, Vajra could not bring himself to answer.

Row sat back down and massaged her temples. “I shouldn’t be so mad at you. From your perspective, not having more souls crying out in your nightmares must be a huge plus, am I correct?”

“I can’t take any more of them,” he answered weakly.

“I understand. But if you were in a better place, mentally, you might be horrified. In fact, knowing what kind of person you are, I’d bet half a year’s salary on it.”

“What kind of person am I?”

“A warm, soft child who is horrified by violence. One who revels in the presence of his loved ones. But I’m afraid ethics and sentiment aren’t the only reason I’ve filed a formal complaint against Master Oteg.”

“You’ve filed a report against Master Oteg?”

“Yes. You see, his actions have left you vulnerable to your emotions. You will always be a lot less emotionally mature than you would have been, had he allowed more conventional means of helping you.”

“What?” Vajra sat up straighter. “But I’m not that immature, emotionally… am I?”

“Perhaps not. Uupa WenSuul’s lessons have sprouted deep roots in your heart. Patience and even-temperedness will always be your hallmarks, I think. It took some real doing for Angral to break your calm. But you take in guilt like a sponge. Have you noticed that?”

“I—”

“Yes?”

“I don’t…”

“Perhaps you haven’t, but can you deny what I said? You felt guilty about the Khrayii and Power Guards you killed. You feel guilty about Uphrades. You feel guilty about letting Tarnis and the defectors of Havoc Squad escape. You feel responsible for every life you couldn’t save. How much faster can you be? How many places can you be in at the same time? Can the Raudra create clones of themselves?”

“No.”

“Then why do you believe you should have been able to reach Uphrades in time? We’ve already established that visions are iffy.”

Vajra swallowed. “What I’m about to tell you stays with us. Don’t put this in your notes. Don’t tell Master Satele, don’t tell anyone.”

She looked at him slowly. He told her slowly about his special gift, the Shattersense.

He then opened his third eye. “This eye of mine is blind. It happened when I was young. Since I can’t use it for natural sight, I trained myself to separate mundane sight and Force sight between my eyes. My lower two see the real world. My third sees the tapestry that is the Force. I can See it. The flows, the cracks, the breaks. I can see it all. But as I am, I can’t comprehend it. Do you understand? If I had practised my Sight instead of my swordsmanship—”

“Then you’d have been able to reach Angral, but not stop him. You’d be in his grasp, the way he’s in ours. And Uphrades would still be dead, as would everyone on Tython. Including Jasme. Sight is good, but not that great.”

“If I had seen, I could have gotten them to evacuate. The Masters would have been waiting for Angral. He’d have walked into a trap.”

“Perhaps. What are the odds you could have managed it though? From what you described, your Sight sounds like something that would take many lifetimes to master. You’re working on ‘maybes’ with this line of thought. Look instead at what happened. You saved Master Satele and Jasme. You saved Ranna.”

Vajra felt a stone sinking into the pit of his stomach. Another person he hadn’t thought about in days. Whose feelings he’d ignored when he tried to end his own life. Had she heard about his suicide attempt yet? How badly had she taken it?

“Tell me more about your feelings for Satele.”

“Eh?” He wondered why she’d gone there all of a sudden.

“She’s quite popular, you know.”

“Can’t imagine why. Anyway, the first time I saw her, my eyes almost popped out of my skull. I thought she was among the beautiful women I’d ever seen, and Jasme was sitting in the room with me at the time!”

Doctor Row chuckled.

“I… I was honored to have the Lightsabers she loaned me. They felt even more special when I found out—” he almost kicked himself for nearly blurting it out, but Row waved her hand.

“I know that she’s Jasme’s mother. In fact, I know who the father is. I am her therapist to this day. Rest assured, there are few secrets she hasn’t shared with me.”

“She still needs therapy?”

“Yes. I’m sure you noticed, but she’s rather isolated and alone. Therapy is where she gets things off her chest. She has talked about you quite often, usually in conjunction with Jasme.”

“Are you allowed to tell me that?”

“This level of detail? Of course. Satele is quite fond of you. I’m sure she’s told you that herself. And so has Jasme, by now. Satele cares more about you than any other Jedi. Or most people at all, except for Theron, Jasme, and their father. It’s not entirely for Jasme’s sake either. You’ve been asked to take on so much, and you always pull through. She feels guilty about it. And yet, proud. She takes your mental health as her personal failing. She wishes with all her heart that she could have kept you on easier missions after Tython. But you just got thrown into the Angral situation.”

“She’s definitely like a m—a m-m-mother to me. Just like Jasme’s a sister…” He had a sudden mental image of Master Satele and Jasme on Raudraksha, as a second mother and half-sister respectively. The picture felt… like it should have been real. Like it was the most beautiful what-if that would never exist. “I love her just like Jasme,” he admitted. “Maybe not as strong, but it’s there.”

“Know that it’s mutual. And know that she doesn’t give it freely. That you won her love means that you’re a good child.”

“Or lucky. Jasme’s the one she really loves. I just got a fast pass.”

“She didn’t love Tomas Vance. Barely gave him a second glance. Nor has she loved anyone else who Jasme befriended.”

“What does all this mean?”

“It means, that you also saved someone who sees you as a son. In a way, you saved your family from the deranged Sith Lord this time. Think on that, okay?”

 *

Satele sat in her chambers, enjoying a rare moment of solitude. For reasons she didn’t quite know yet, she was taking Doctor Row’s advice. She was composing a letter to Vajra, to tell him what his struggles truly meant to her. For her own sake, and Jasme’s, but mostly for his.

“My Dear Son,” she had begun. The opener still made her blush hot crimson. “We’ve not really talked in any capacity too far outside our roles as Jedi Master and Knight until today. But there’s some things I absolutely need to tell you about.”

Her intake of breath was very shaky, owing to the fact that her heart seemed to have jumped into her throat.

 *

“Moving on for now, why don’t you tell me about your upbringing by Uupa?”

“My first memory of her is when my basic was still bad. We relied on a droid to translate. And teach. KV-220F. He was assigned to take care of Master WenSuul, who was already getting old. One of the droids assigned to Master Oteg gave him the files on my language. I didn’t know how she expected to behave with her at first, so I treated her as one of the elders I was often assigned to accompany. Like Parijatha, especially. I stayed as close to her as I could, took care of her chores and stuff. But at the time, she was still able to do most of it, albeit slowly, so she didn’t appreciate it. She did approve of the attitude, however. She set me on helping others instead. Most of the people there were alright humoring the cantankerous Jedi, even if it meant accepting the help of a small alien child few could understand. They started to appreciate having an extra pair of hands.”

“Or two,” Row chuckled.

“Some of them were mechanics and repair shop owners. These were happiest with my help, since they were almost always overburdened. They asked Master WenSuul to send me over two afternoons a week, in exchange for some extra credits. She was living off her stipend, but thought it would be a good way to teach me how money worked. I also helped some of the poorer or older farmers during planting and harvest season. Again, I was paid a fair wage. Uphradeans weren’t big fans of exploitation.”

“What about your training?”

“Master WenSuul trained me for an hour at dawn, and two at dusk. Sometimes she trained me late at night, when she had certain lessons that were better taught when most people were asleep. She was constantly frustrated by my short range. She insisted that the problem was in my head. But I’m still limited to around fifteen meters. She gave me my first training Lightsabers a couple of weeks after I arrived. She made me take it apart and put it back together every night after I got the hang of technology. It was good practice. But mostly, she worked on making me patient and compassionate, as you’ve noticed.”

“I’m good at my work.”

“She gave me her Holocron to study the Lightsaber Forms. I started on the footwork drills within the first week of apprenticeship, and incorporated Lightsabers as soon as I got them. I would train before and after my morning sessions with her. It was a good way to start my day.”

“I’ll bet it was.”

“I also trained during the day, whenever I had ten minutes of break time.”

“Your skill had to come from somewhere.”

“There were other Jedi who came to teach me from time to time. Friends of Master WenSuul who dropped by to visit. They trained me, corrected my forms.”

“Can you tell me about them?”

“There were four of them. Rosavi Birch was a tall, serious Zabrak Jedi with tattoos on her skin. She had a Padawan named Tau, the last time she came, four years ago. Tau was silent but kind. An orphan, like me. I didn’t pry, because she was clearly still dealing with her traumatic life. She was nine, I think. Rosavi had long hair that she was proud of. Apparently, it was the only trait she inherited from her father. I made her a clasp, the last time I saw her. That was the only time I saw her beam like that.”

“Tau…” Doctor Row pressed keys on her datapad. “Rosavi Birch… ah, yes, here we go! Rosavi’s currently serving as an ambassador to the Akaza. It’s a conflict-ridden world, so Rosavi serves as an impartial judge and arbiter. You’ll be pleased to hear that Tau seems to be doing better. She has the makings of a fine Jedi Knight. She helped raid a small bandit camp two weeks ago. Her full name is Tau Idair. Maybe you’ll meet her again someday.”

“Then there’s Kresham Juure. He was a middle-aged Sephi Arkanian with a cybernetic hand, the first one I ever saw.”

“Serving on Thustra as part of the defense force. A General, I believe.”

“The Echani Jedi Germaine Hext. He’s the one who taught me Echani and Mandalorian unarmed combat, which I honed along with what my family taught me.”

“Germaine, eh?” Vajra thought he saw a hint of sorrow on her face. “He was KIA on Balmorra, fighting Lady Riiyavi Rooks. While she was the victor, she was too wounded to defeat his partner, Aryn Leneer.”

“I mourned his death. And finally, there was Harunobu Yukimura.”

“A blademaster.”

“Yes. He’s from Akaza. He was a great swordsman, better than anyone else I’ve ever faced. It was through sparring with him that I became what I am today. His Padawan, Maia Ibari, was my age. She didn’t have his knack for swordsmanship, but she was a great huntress.”

“I see… on special assignment for the Jedi Council.” She looked disappointed. “I was hoping that at least one of your old trainers would be able to come and meet you.”

“What? Why? They can’t see me like this! You want them to see me like this?!”

“Yes. You need all the support we can get you. Kira, Jasme, and your T7 aren’t enough. I’m going to ask Satele to be another you can lean on. Be sure to accept her help. Okay?”

“…” Vajra was reluctant, but in the end, all he could say was, “Okay.”

 *

“Please forgive me for writing, instead of saying all of this in person. I’ve always had difficulty being open about my feelings, but I’ve become even more isolated in the years since being given my title. Maybe you can imagine. She’s a little awkward in her personal life, so try to make her feel comfortable.”

“She’s awkward?”

“I know, right? With her refined manner and impeccable taste, she just might be one of the most charming people in the galaxy! But she’s got her own weaknesses, the same as anyone else.”

“I’ll be mindful.”

“Good. I’ll go talk to her right now. Go back to your room. I’ll come there with her when we’re ready.”

 *

“That day, when you saved so many lives on Tython, including your closest friend’s… you saved mine too.”

Satele reflected on that feeling. Never had she known such raw gratitude before. It was the sort of overwhelming emotion that typically saw maidens offer themselves to someone who’d just saved them.

“I’m not used to that anymore, or to Jasme being in danger at all. She may have already told you how I barely let her out of my sight in those dread hours, as if I could have protected her myself from what was coming. What’s more, the entire Jedi leadership was in peril of being wiped out. Their deaths alone would have been a more devastating and lasting blow than the Sacking of Coruscant had been. And then there are the archives. Pure luck was all that spared them the last time. This time, they’d have been lost for sure. If things had gone differently, my final thoughts would have been how the Jedi suffered such a mortal blow under my leadership. About how utterly I had failed at my entire life’s work. You spared me that. You spared all of us. The Council, High Command, the Senate, the Supreme Chancellor. People all over the Republic don’t realize just how much you saved that day. I’m sorry if this seems to lack humility, but I do not deserve to die with a regret that large. I may have been a poor mother, lover, and friend. But I gave my life to serving the Jedi and the Republic. I have dedicated every breath to that service. Seeing the Jedi survive such a threat was vindication of a sort.

“There are only twelve people who have saved me from the jaws of death, Vajra. Fewer still, who have saved everything I have fought for. And that is why I can no longer ignore what you have become to me; a second son. I can never fully adopt you, as my daughter has. But know that I will love and support you as best I can. There is a place for you in my heart.

I’ll see you soon, Satele.”

As she considered her words, her doorbell began to ring. Rather insistently too. She knew that the embarrassed part of her would stand a better chance at prevailing upon her to scrap this message, so she hit ‘send’ before answering the door. She only hoped there were no mistakes in her wording, or grammar. That would be terribly embarrassing for the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

 *

Vajra returned to find an extra occupant in his room.

“Ah, look who’s back!” Bengel smiled. “How was the session?”

“Not bad,” Vajra returned the smile. “We talked a lot about Master WenSuul.” He turned to the newcomer. “Who’re you?”

“Who am I?” The handsome man voiced a disappointed huff. He rounded on Kira with a flourish of his green robes, which Vajra noted, were the same color of his eyes. “Kira, I see you haven’t shown your former master any of the portraits I sent you! Have you even told him anything yet?”

“The timing’s a little bad, alright?” Kira had a half-exasperated, half-embarrassed. “I don’t think we need to talk about this now. Why are you even here?”

“Why am I here? Why am I here?” He drew himself up theatrically. “Oh, my dear! I’m here to help my sweet little warhead.” Kira blushed at that last word. Was that what he called her? Did that mean…

The man who could only be Kira’s boyfriend turned back to Vajra. His bow was worthy of the Alderaanian noble houses. “My name is Seraphim Abbot. Freshly returned from another terribly daring mission!”

“Ohhh, it’s nice to meet you at last,” Vajra offered him a hand uncertainly. “I’m sorry for not meeting you sooner. You’re a very important person to one of my closest friends after all.”

“Indeed,” Abbot raised his head. “It’s a travesty, a shame! To think she did her best to keep us from meeting! The lengths she took, the threats she made!”

“The drama classes she skipped,” Jasme giggled. She seemed to be bursting with amusement and happiness. “Just tell him already!”

“Oh, as you wish, Madam. You see, shortly after the two of you were hailed Heroes of Tython, I asked Kira to marry me. And she said yes.”

“Huh?!” Vajra’s jaw dropped. Kira buried her face in Seraphim’s back. Jasme began bouncing and making high pitched, squealing noises like a bird that had just seen her fledgelings take flight for the first time. “Th-this-this is…” Vajra giggled and sputtered uncontrollably. “Kira, can you come out so I can congratulate you?”

Kira poked her head out from behind Seraphim’s back. Her eyes were mortified and embarrassed. Her cheeks were bright pink. “You’re not angry?” she asked. “That I said ‘yes’ when you were missing?”

“How long can you keep your life on hold?” Seraphim boomed, pulling her around him. His dark arms held her firmly as she squirmed. “He’s happy you didn’t stop living, yes?”

“I am,” Vajra confirmed. He seized Kira’s hand and wrung it tightly. “Have you picked a date? A venue?”

“It’ll be a long engagement.” Kira’s answer was forced. “Aren’t you annoyed he chose now to spring it?”

“What better time?” Jasme choked. “He needs the mood lift! Just look at him; that’s the first smile I’ve seen on his face in years! The first smile in years!”

“Years?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you smile since you left for Nar Shaddaa.”

“Ah, yes. The Power Guard Project,” Seraphim snorted in disgust. “Yes, I’m in the loop. So anyway. Kira told me of your troubles. Confessed, more like. She didn’t admit it easily. So, I thought I’d come over and offer you my support. You’re the second most important person in her life, after all.”

“But… but… but… you’re getting married?” Vajra stared at Kira, feeling warm and giddy.

“It will be a long engagement,” she repeated with a slightly pleading expression. “Damn, I knew it felt weird! I’m still just twenty! I never expected to get married before my twenty-fifth…”

“And we can leave it that long!” Abbot promised her. “Or longer.”

“What will you do once you marry?” Vajra pressed. “Will you stay in the Order? Will you try to get a permanent assignment together? Do you want to have children?” He gasped. “Would I be… like their uncle?”

“Only if you live,” Abbot said, turning sombre. “Although this is the first time we’re meeting, I’ve heard so much about you already… I feel like I was right there when you stopped Tarnis. Or saved Alderaan.”

Vajra did his best not to look at Kira. She’d never talked to him about Abbot, not in all those months on Alderaan. Whenever he’d pressed her for details after a furtive date, she’d told him about what they did, but refused to talk about the man himself. He figured she simply didn’t want her lives to overlap. Perhaps that had changed since he ran away.

“I want you there. At our official engagement—which is set a few months from now, our wedding, and every other event in between. Come, sit down. I want to get to know you better.”

 *

Satele was not used to such a crude summons from the Council. Normally, it was done by emergency comms, not a messenger. But Oteg had returned with his team, and the news was apparently explosive.

It was almost enough to make her forgive unauthorized access to the Temple.

Almost. She would bring it up with him later. Couldn’t he have used the comms? Did he have to maintain his façade to this degree?

What did it matter? The Empire knew where Tython was now. But still…

I will bring it up with him after his report, she promised herself.

The second she emerged into the Temple proper, she felt a powerful presence wash over her. It was beyond anything she had ever felt before, both in power, and place in the Force. She had seen powerful Neutral Jedi and Sith before, but this… it felt equal parts powerful in Light and Dark Side. Like she and Darth Malgus were both standing in the same square meter. In harmony, no less. Yet it was one person, she was sure of it! Was such an incongruity even possible?

She met Jaric and Bela lingering outside the chamber, sharing in her incredulity.

“Grand Master,” Jaric bowed stiffly. “This day is… unfolding in an irregular manner, isn’t it?”

“We will discuss it after Master Oteg’s briefing,” Satele agreed. She entered the Council chamber to find an odd assortment of people inside. Oteg sat at his seat near the door. About fifteen soldiers, three of whom in Republic Special Forces armor, whose insignia she was all too familiar with. There were a few irregulars there too. The man with the pink hair looked familiar somehow. He was speaking to Oteg’s former Padawan, Nariel Pridence, who seemed oblivious to the man’s obvious interest. There were three other Jedi there; Karita Shalan, Rucja Barruq, and Harunobu Yukimura.

And there, in the center of the hall, was a tall man in battered robes. He was the Source of the Disturbance. He turned to face her, his face covered in the shadows of his hood.

“Good day, everyone. Welcome to Tython.” Though I see Oteg has already told you to make yourselves at home. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.” She passed by the hooded… Force user… on her way to her seat, but didn’t manage to get a good look at him. Once all the present Councillors were seated, she turned to Oteg. “I suppose you’ve finally decided that it’s time you told us what this is all about?”

“I believe that question is for me to answer,” the robed Force user spoke in a sonorous voice. Satele felt her blood run cold when the man revealed his face, but Jaric and a few others gave her a puzzled look which they shifted to Oteg.

“Am I supposed to know who this is?” Jaric grunted.

Revan smiled ruefully, and held up the mask which had served as his persona for so many years.

The result was instantaneous.

 *