Post by Neology on Jun 13, 2018 0:31:53 GMT -5
 Verity “May you live in interesting times. May you find what you're looking for.” Full Name • Verity Vyshaan Race • Sephi Birthplace • Coruscant Age • 91 Gender • Female Sexuality • Homosexual Faction • Jedi Concept • Rank 3, Jedi Master Languages • Basic, Bocce, Huttese Assets • Lightsaber x 4 (One electrum-plated dual phase with a teal color crystal ▇▇▇, the other three are standard and unadorned with pale green blades ▇▇▇.) Utility belt (contains: survival rations, comlink, grappling spike launcher, holoprojector, holomap, aquata breather, Jedi beacon transceiver, glowrod, and basic tool kit,) holdout blaster, spare power pack, standard Republic body armor (often in storage.) Appearance Face Claim • Sofia Boutella Height & Weight • 5'5", 130 lbs. Overall Looks • At a hair below average human height, Verity is far shorter and more athletic than most Sephi women – not that she's known many others to compare herself to. With a lissome build, sun-kissed skin, and an easy smile, Battlemaster Vyshaan exudes an aura of cheerful vitality. She moves with unaffected confidence whether on or off the battlefield. Verity wears her hair loose, chocolate brown locks that fall in layers past short of her shoulders. She bears a tattoo of the Jedi crest on her left shoulder, picked up some fifty years ago in celebration of the Treaty of Mandoa. Her eyes are a warm, dark brown, often glinting at some private joke. Her features are strong, with thick eyebrows and a dimpled chin. She can most often be found wearing the traditional tunic, obi, britches, and boots of the Order, though she typically forgoes the outer cloak. Streetclothes, when appropriate, are typically chosen in neutral colors and in form-fitting cuts. Additionally, the Battlemaster maintains a old but otherwise typical set of Republic Battle Armor. Personality Profile A consummate teacher, long years have instilled in Verity a remarkably even temper and an uncommon, vast patience. She is generally optimistic and not very prone to introspection, daydreams, or regret. Seeing countless students and comrades come and go has made her a little bit distant in most of her personal dealings - the faces all start to blend together, eventually. Despite a naturally sunny outlook, Verity is still very much a realist when it comes to her work. Preparing young Jedi for the dangers they will face is a serious undertaking, especially with the war still very fresh in everyone's mind. Ignorance in the face of danger is no excuse. Verity's personal life is rather empty, more so now that she's outlived many of the mentors of her youth. She has reconnected somewhat with her famous half-brother in recent years. Background Father • Crix Wessiri, 139, retired mechanic Mother • Sarisa Fallon, 143, CEO of Wayfarer Technology Other Important Connections • Varavanar Vree, half brother - holonet personality Taelros Anthir, former padawan - now Watchman of Hoth Rikkavi, former padawan - now Knight Overall History • Part I - Origin “Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.” Sarisa Fallon, Wayfarer Technology's sales representative of the year three times running, was not ready to have a baby. Strictly speaking neither was her paramour, a local speeder mechanic by the name of Crix Wessiri. Ultimately, he never got much say in the matter. Ms. Fallon cut all contact the moment her condition began to show. Months later, at Coruscant's Vyshaan Medcenter, Sarisa gave birth to and subsequently abandoned a healthy baby girl. Blood tests simplified what might have otherwise been a tragic and complicated situation – the infant was Force sensitive. The Jedi were happy to take her in. The elderly woman dispatched from Acquisitions gave her a name. Verity, for the truth is inextricably tied to the Lightside of the Force, and Vyshaan, for the place they found her. Part II - Youngling “We know what we are, but know not what we may be.” Verity's earliest memories are happy ones, interspersed with occasional moments of confusion. Under the care of the Jedi fosterers, she developed from a fussy infant into a energetic and loquacious child. She made friends easily, often guiding teary new arrivals around the playrooms and gardens. Naturally curious, it was only a matter of time until she learned that her situation was unusual. No people, no family. For months after she wavered in doubt, never straying too far from one instructor or an other. At age four, Verity was assigned to the Bear clan along with eleven other children. Enjoying a slight headstart over the newer students, Verity took to the regiment of study and training quite naturally and, over time, her adventurous spirit began to reemerge. Often, this was to her detriment. Records on the matter persist in her file, recalling chores and meditation assigned 5 times for leaving her bed at night, 15 times for being on the roof without permission, and once for swearing. Seasons came and went, and Verity's particular talents began to take shape. Though an average student in most other respects, she livid for the afternoons: physical training and, later, saber practice. That hilt in her hands made every boring history text, every minute of silent contemplation, so so worth it. Interlude I - Chosen “Almost. It's a big word for me. I feel it everywhere.” A few weeks after her 12th birthday, Bear Clan's instructors presented Verity with an unexpected choice. An older student had been chosen for training as a padawan. She could, if she wished, take his place in that year's Apprentice Tournament, set to take place at the end of the month. Do well, and she would almost certainly draw the attention of a master – a most coveted fate among her fellow clan mates. While the following months would see most of them to masters, there was some small pride to be found in being among the first. There was little in the way of preparation, though Verity recalls those days passing with unbearable slowness. Then, quite simply, the day of the tournament was upon her. In a bowl-shaped white training room, Verity fought five rounds under the watchful gaze of some two dozen strangers. Her quick, confident strikes won her first to three burns in four of these, though she was defeated in the fifth round. Her opponent, a zabrak girl, took the defensive and waited, letting Verity tire herself out. The match ended when she knocked the saber out of Verity's hands. There was a wait in the infirmary that afternoon – one of the other had children broken an arm. Verity fidgeted in her seat incessantly, cheeks burning with shame as she waited to have her burns looked at. Eventually, the Knight seated next to her, a bronze-skinned Kiffar with blue clan tattoos on each cheek, took note and prodded her into conversation. Defensive at first, she gradually opened up to the curious young man, up to and including pantomime maneuvers from the day's best matches. Jedi Knight Tomas Konshi made for a wonderful audience, greeting her successes with appreciative oohs and aahs and her defeat with advice. She found herself disappointed when he had to leave, vanishing into a private room with one of the healers. A month later, an instructor pulled Verity from lunch to give her the news. Knight Konshi had spoken to the Council, securing their permission to take a student. Part III Padawan “So tell me then, why do fireflies choose to shine on the darkest of nights?” Verity spent that first evening meditating in the rotunda chapel and, the next morning, took her vow of service before the Council. That afternoon she said goodbye to her clan mates, paying one last tearful visit to collect her clothes. The novelty of having her own room soon cheered her, however, austere furnishings and all. In the days that followed she was uncharacteristically shy, not entirely sure what to make of her new master. Konshi was genial and talkative as he limped around the temple, new padawan in tow. (She'd been mildly disappointed to learn the injury came from a speeder bike accident rather than something exciting.) She'd simply expected … Well, a stolid master with gray in their hair. Tomas smiled too much and laughed too easily. Still, Verity's misgivings faded day by day, and she became quite comfortable with her master's daily routine. Exercise and saber practice in the morning, two hours to herself after lunch, study and meditation in the evenings. Konshi was a fastidious teacher – she would spend days, occasionally weeks, practicing a single strike until it became second nature, muscle memory. For the first two years her master kept his activities limited to Capital City, often playing Jedi bodyguard for one dignitary or another. Politically savvy for a Guardian, Konshi taught his padawan to listen and learn from these men and women whenever possible, but not necessarily to trust them. He stressed that they were especially terrible at staying out of trouble, having the absolute worst instincts when things went wrong. Overall, the job was usually quite boring. It only went bad once during Verity's apprenticeship, cementing her respect for her master from there on. Her master had been tasked with escorting Senator Yana Trebil's armored speeder from the Senate tower to her home after a controversial vote. Verity rode in the back of the convoy, sharing a luxury speeder with a pair of Trebil's hirelings. She remembers seeing a slight shimmer in the air and then the sight of the first speeder engulfed in flame. It crashed, warped but not broken, on the roof of a nearby tower. No second shot came, and she screamed at the driver to land their speeder. By the time Verity got there, Konshi had already helped the injured senator clear of the wreck. Though bleeding and burned, he hunched over Yana, keeping pressure on a wound in her side until paramedics arrived to take over. Once safely in the ambulance, Konshi dropped the effects of Batlemind and consciousness more or less immediately. Navigating Coruscant Grand Medical by herself was a little bit terrifying, but Verity soon noticed a strange phenomenon among people outside the temple. They saw her as a Jedi, not as a child, and deferred to her robes and saber hilt. She used this attitude to her advantage, insisting to her master's attending physician that Konshi needed to be transferred to the Jedi temple whenever possible. He was moved that evening. Months later, they traveled to the enclave on Dantooine. Verity loved it there, relishing the chance to explore and the novelty of grass and trees that weren't walled in behind glass. Under her master's instruction, the lanky teen spent long afternoons practicing outdoors, learning to call on the Force to strengthen her body and focus her mind. The spring in which Verity turned 17 was unseasonably warm and likely to lead into a hotter summer. Even Jedi tempers ran hot in such weather and Verity was no exception. She remembers, with some contrition, pestering her master endlessly about lightsabers. It was a relief when he announced that they'd be heading off world. A mission from the Council of Reconciliation had presented itself. They would leave as soon as possible. The Ithorians held their planet, and every life upon it, as deeply sacred. Under normal circumstances, they would never have invited two Jedi to walk the planet's surface. There was always some poaching; native flora and fauna occasionally showed up in galactic markets. This was different, and the Ithorians were desperate – these poachers had murdered an Oracle. Konshi and Verity went down to the planet's surface with what supplies they could carry and strict instruction on a Ithorian belief, the Law of Life. For any life taken, whether plant or animal, two must replace it. Though her master seemed calm, Verity regarded their shuttle flight down to the planet with extreme suspicion; what if she stepped on something? Her master's response was simple – she wouldn't. Over those first few weeks, he taught her to use the Force to sense her way about. The effort tired her quickly and their progress was slight, mostly in and around the area of Oracle Jii Modron's murder. Eventually, Konshi would range further out, sometimes days at a time, leaving Verity to practice alone. Searching a jungle on foot was no small task, and progress was painfully slow. When a breakthrough finally came, it was from an unexpected source. Verity rose early that morning, waking to day four without news from her master. Worried, she stuffed her pockets with ration bars, filled her canteen, and struck out to find his path. Confidence and concern carried her through to mid-afternoon, but by dusk she was tired, hungry, and quite lost. She rested the night in a grove of Bafforr trees, falling into a deep sleep among the twisted roots. She dreamed, and the Bafforr trees filled her mind with the strange visions of jungle beasts (for trees have no eyes of their own.) They showed her the poachers camp: a fence that stung like biting insects and a stone burrow, all shadowed by the concentrated urine-stink of captivity. They showed her the Jedi camp, where her master waited, sleepless, staring back at her through her borrowed beast's eyes. Finally, they showed her a knife, buried inches deep into blue crystal bark. Upon waking, she searched for the knife. It proved real enough by day, a confirmation for the rest. She tore a long strip of fabric from her sleeve and wrapped the knife, then pulled it out of the tree. Fragments of hardened sap came with it, the largest sized to fit comfortably in her palm. She pocketed both and started back to camp. Konshi scolded her for wandering off, but listened intently to her as she described her dream. Postcognition on the knife confirmed the truth of her vision. They discussed a plan as they traveled through the afternoon. Tomas would go in and she would make sure that none of the poachers fled in their ship. Ithorian law enforcement would be waiting for them on the herdship, but could not offer support on the planet's surface as their religion forbade it. He did not think it likely that these men would accept surrender, though it was a Jedi's obligation to offer it. Verity waited, crouched in the dark by the freighter's landing struts, shivering despite the heat. The caged beasts were restless. Konshi was taking too long. A human made for the shuttle, blaster in hand. His fear of her master was an unexpected shock, intensely vivid. Verity launched out of cover and into his path, yellow training saber igniting. Several blaster shots went in the air. Verity struck the side of his knee with a Force-enhanced kick, felt and heard the joint tear. The man screamed and fell, blaster writhing uncontrolled in his hands. She turned her saber to deflect the bolt, but with no warning and at point blank range, the effort was quite useless. Verity briefly came to, some time later, in a bed in a white room. (A patient room at the herdship's largest medcenter, though she didn't recognize it at the time.) Tomas dozed nearby, his familiar presence comforting in that strange place. She drifted in and out of sleep. In the weeks that followed, her master caught her up on what had happened. He'd taken the poacher's ship and brought her to the herdship for help. She'd needed surgery. The Ithorian doctors were very good; they'd saved her life. Konshi had been forced to return planet side, cleanup that took well into the following afternoon. The captive beasts were released. Everything that could be torn down or powered off, was. Of the nine poachers, only three survived, including the man Verity had injured. The Jedi would remain on the herdship through Verity's recovery and beyond, at least until the bulk of the legal proceedings were settled. The surviving poachers faced imprisonment and a staggering number of fines. The dead would be cloned (twice, of course) in accordance with Ithorian religion. To Verity's initial disappointment, her master did not celebrate their victory. Quite the opposite, in fact - Konshi was unusually withdrawn and reflective for months afterword. Still, on one thing he finally relented: it was time for Verity to have her own lightsaber. After all, she already had the first piece. Verity meditated with her Baffor crystal daily during her recovery, working with only a few interior pieces at first. While her crystal was of sufficient luster and diaphaneity to work as part of a lightsaber, there was no record of any Jedi having done so. Getting the setting right would take dozens, if not hundreds, of attempts. Konshi counseled patience and fetched her new parts, incentivising her physical therapist's recovery goals with particularly interesting pieces. Young Jedi heal quickly and Verity was up and walking around by the end of the month, faintly shocked by how quickly she tired and how weak her limbs felt. Strength and endurance would have to be won back bit by bit. Frustrated and thoroughly sick of her hospital room, she begged her master to leave Ithor soon. Konshi reluctantly agreed, though it took nearly two weeks to make all the arrangements. Tomas and Verity returned to the temple on Coruscant for the first time in several years, they yet soon fell back into old patterns. Verity still preferred to take her physical training in the morning, though for now it was under a Jedi healer's careful supervision. She spent the afternoons on her saber, taking it apart and putting it back together again and again. The first time she tried to turn it on the blade was too unfocused, damaging the emitter before she shut it off. She replaced the part without comment to her master. She would not try again until it felt right. Months passed and her master resumed his work for the Council, accompanying various dignitaries in and around the Senate tower. Verity tagged along once or twice a week. She never found it quite as boring as before, having seen how dangerous it could be. Still, it would be years until she fully understood the need for a Jedi presence near the heart of Republic politics. At the time, she simply found it curious that the Council so often provided extra protection to people who often had their own guards. Verity's eighteenth birthday came and went and yet she'd made no further progress on her lightsaber. Most padawans had real weapons by her age – an observation made up almost entirely on the spot. She sulked. She damaged training remotes in practice, prompting at least one written complaint (submitted to her master by a surly Duros repairman.) There was only one thing left to do: admit she needed help. Irene Mott, a somewhat eccentric member of the Jedi artisans and saber crystal specialist, provided an answer almost immediately. A slight imperfection in the stone diffused too much light, creating a wide, unfocused blade. She could trim it down and have it ready for use that afternoon. Stunned, Verity babbled out her agreement. She spent most of the day in Mott's crowded workshop, trying to be unintrusive. When Irene presented her crystal, cut down and polished from a rough prism into a properly faceted gemstone, Verity hardly recognized it. Thrilled, she hugged the older woman in thanks and returned to her room, already planning how to alter the setting for the new shape. Two days later, Verity presented a working lightsaber to her master. The hilt design was deliberately simple: the standard chromed durasteel and rubberized grip of many first lightsabers. The Baffor crystal produced a blue-green blade, warmer than the standard Guardian blue. Konshi rewarded her with an extra hour of saber practice, gently praising his student for seeking Irene's expertise. Late in the next year, Tomas received their next mission: accompany Master Jasmille Deming and her padawan to Naboo and protect them while Jasmille arbitrated a dispute between two of the larger citystates. They would leave together in three days. Excited to travel again, but skeptical of spending all her time with another padawan - a child, Verity packed up her few possessions and loaded a datapad with books on Naboo to read on the way. As it was, Verity had ample time to get to know Jasmille's padawan: Neyla, the very same zabrak girl that had bested her as children. The first day was quiet, with neither girl quite sure how to approach the other, but eventually boredom won out. The austere Jedi ship offered little in the way of entertainment, but it did come equipped with a Dejarik table. Neyla broke the ice with an invitation and they formed a tentative friendship, though Verity still lost more often than not. Master Deming's negotiations with the Naboo took weeks, soon stretching into months. Verity and Neyla both took on the occasional small mission for their masters. Though they encountered nothing so dangerous as the poachers on Ithor, the time was well spent. The padawans worked together as relative equals, practicing outside the master-student relationship for the first time in their lives. They argued very often. Neyla faced her trails on Naboo, to which Verity was an occasional accomplice. The experience left her wondering what Tomas had planned for her. When questioned, he was tight lipped on the matter, insisting that she had at least two more years of training to go. They returned to Coruscant ten months after they'd left, an uneasy truce secured. Interlude II - Trial of Spirit “Let no one think of me that I am humble or weak or passive; let them understand I am of a different kind: dangerous to my enemies, loyal to my friends.” Six months after Verity's twenty-first birthday, Konshi revealed his intention to submit her experiences on Ithor to the council as her Trials of Skill and Flesh. She had his permission to begin preparing for the Trial of Spirit. Weeks later, after a day of fasting, Verity meditated in an empty chamber of the Tower of First Knowledge. Konshi's former master, Melina Straden, supervised. Verity opened her eyes within the vision and found herself standing in a field of black. Behind her stretched a wavering line of gray. Ahead, it branched and blossomed into color. Every choice she might make, everything she might do, laid out before her, expectant. Some threads stretched further than she could see while others violently terminated into scattered embers. It looks like a tree, she thought, and then it was. A gray trunk that led to bright branches laden with fruit, some ripe and some withered. She reached out, touching the trunk. Verity drew her lightsaber fought. And she lost, experiencing a curiously painless execution at the end of the apparition's indigo blade – twin to her own. She woke up on the cool stone floor with Master Straden peering down at her with something like concern. She tried again the next week, facing the same vision as before – with the same results. And so it was for almost two months before she took a different approach. She walked past the shade, and it followed her for a time but could not touch her. A flat disc of white rose against the horizon and burned it away. When she awake, Master Straden offered her congratulations. Part IV - Knight "Your eyes’ll tell it all, a window to the war that you’ve been through…" Verity’s first handful of missions as a knight were familiar business, designed to ease the young Jedi into working on her own - guard duty at diplomatic functions and, very rarely, backup to planetary peacekeeping forces. She missed her mentor terribly at first, though Master Konshi remained available to offer advice and guidance whenever they were both at the temple. Once Verity was fully settled into her position, she was offered what she felt to be her first “real” mission: travel to the troubled planet of Ryloth and attach herself to the security detail of a particular senatorial hopeful, favored by the Republic for the hardline stance against the Ryll trade, for the duration of his campaign. The first few months were an exercise in disillusionment. Kala’uun was far from Corsucant’s glittering upper levels - and to do her job, Verity could not stay ignorant of the crowded and desperate clan warrens beneath the city. Worst of all, she had never guessed that slavery existed within the Republic, even if her host was very careful to call his contracted servants. Vyshaan attended her duties with frosty competence and her charge was at last elected junior senator. He made no secret that he would be selling the contracts of all his servants when he made the move to Coruscant. Quietly furious, Verity spent much of her final few weeks on the planet in their company fruitlessly searching for an alternative. In the end, she couldn’t really “save” anyone. A Jedi could hardly afford to buy out a single contract, much less half a dozen and all associated family that no one would leave without. There was one slightly Force sensitive niece, about three years old, who belonged to no one but except for her enslaved and loving parents. Verity delivered quite the speech, extolling the virtues of the Order, and took the child, Alena Avira, with her when she left. Practically smuggled out with the luggage. Verity vastly underestimated caring for a three year old, but the trip was mercifully brief. When she delivered the Order's newest charge to the temple's creche, however, she expected it would all be worth it. Alas, no good deed goes unpunished - even among the Jedi. Her superiors were nervous of incident or scandal, rather than triumphant. Vyshaan found herself assigned to the archives for the foreseeable future, with instructions to search her feelings and be mindful of others. She met her first padawan there, a dour teenage human named Tancred. Like many unfortunates ultimately destined for the corps, his training had come to a halt after some misfortune stole his teacher away. The match was approved with hope that each would temper the other: Vyshaan might find some other focus for her restless energy, and a promising future knight might be brought back from despair. Of course, it was not as easy as all that - but over months and years Verity and Tancred struck up a prickly sort of friendship. They still rarely agreed on anything, and Vyshaan's lack of teaching experience was obviously a problem compared to the aged and learned master that the young man had known. Their missions together focused on running down obscure records and verbal accounts for the great library. Hardly anything worthy of legend or song, but some few stories struck up a deeper interest in the Force itself - largely taken for granted by the young guardian. Tancred was knighted in his early twenties, in the end only a little behind schedule, and took up a permanent post managing the libraries of a far away enclave. Verity was not promoted in turn, given the relatively short apprenticeship. Determined to make up for past recklessness -- and perhaps entitled to choose her next student -- Vyshaan collected Alena Avira as soon as the youngling was eligible for further training. Alena was not entirely as she remembered. Sinewy even at twelve years old, the young twi'lek was quick and clever with a shockingly foul vocabulary that none of her teachers could definitively explain. She and Verity got along famously for the most part, though they never spoke of Alena's liberation from her home planet. Verity drew on her memory of her own padawan years as a road map for teaching, traveling whenever there was the option. If nothing else, she had come to realize that much was important to pass on. The temple, or Coruscant even, was not representative of the Republic as a whole. When the chance came to participate in wilderness combat drills alongside Republic cadets, Verity jumped, taking herself and Alena off to Onderon. She made friends quickly, enjoying the ordered structure of their days, the camaraderie and stories. Alena was a natural in the forest, near invisible when she wanted to be. Soldiers cycled out of the program in six weeks, but they stayed for as many months. During this time, a Mandalorian clan leader -- later known as Mandalore the Betrayer -- rose to power and engaged the Republic in a number of bloody skirmishes. When the soldiers around them were called up, Verity and Alena went with them without question. And without, strictly speaking, seeking permission from the Jedi council. For the first time since Ithor, Verity really got test her abilities. While deadly even against the heavily armed Mandalorian warriors, her best use was in support of small strike teams, deflecting blaster shots and absorbing blasts of fire from wrist-flamers. But there was no Law of Life there, to blunt the teeth of what they did. No one would replace these men and women with careful, expensive clones. Perhaps seeing the human face of their enemies was too much for Alena Avira; she resigned from the Order shortly after the Treaty of Arasuum shackled the Mandalorian clans once more. Verity returned to Coruscant, confused and shamed and exultant all. The dark warrior from her Trials made more sense than ever, a fall now with substance that she felt and began to understand. She begged forgiveness of the council and received her new assignment some weeks later - travel to the satellite temples, make an accounting of their saber training programs. Dantooine was the last, and she stayed there for a time after finding yet another new student: Taelros Anthir, famously produced by an Arkanian genetics lab. She blended seamlessly into the temple staff and fostered his great talent for violence. Their relationship was not prickly and not particularly close, though Verity always thought that they understood each other very well. They sparred every day, and both learned patience. Taelros faced his trials with years passing between; the bloody defense of a rural infirmity, strange visions in the crystal cave, and finally an honorable duel against a new-made knight. His knighting ceremony came as a relief, banishing her fears of failing at the last again. Verity was confirmed as a Jedi Master some weeks later, transferring back to Coruscant and taking up a regular position training the youngling clans. Part V - Master "Aptitude is not destiny." Years trickled by quite peacefully for a time. Verity loved working with the youngest members of the Order, though it was always sad to see them move on. So few made it all the way, for trials or tragedy or a blunt lack of enough Knights to teach them all. When at last she felt she that needed to return to raising up padawans, she had a marked preference for the 'almost-didn't-make-its.' Perhaps they reminded her of Tancred and Alena. Betriz was a student of middling talent and of no extraordinary circumstances, but she was earnest and well-intentioned. Vyshaan started taking fieldwork again for the latter half of the girl's training. They were soon assigned to a diplomatic envoy visiting a boarder world in talks with the Republic. Nationalization would be the work of a human lifetime; Verity expected to stay a few years, providing counsel and security. There had been threats from the usual extremist factions, ultimately futile but damaging just the same. Four months after their arrival on the planet, Betriz and seventeen others perished in the Swallowtail Festival Massacre. A sluggerthrower round nicked an artery in her neck; the young woman bled to death in moments all down the front of the governor's son's blue suit. The terrible bad luck of it all haunted Verity for years. She took no new students in that time and fell into a period of minimalist contemplation of the Force. Old habits and old friends were some comfort. Verity took a low tea with the elderly Master Konshi and she and Taelros resumed their tradition of daily sparring. She soon joined the latter on a string of assignments, searching for Jedi who fell from grace or who had disappeared in unusual circumstances. The work was slow and methodical, broken up with bits of frantic activity and what they found was rarely happy. Yet it was also soothing, in a strange way. To be the hunter, instead of the harried den mother. They brought in Martin Travek, a padawan who murdered his master for not returning his romantic overtures. Ephraim Lamm, a Jal Shay diplomat deeply involved in stock market manipulation and bald faced robbery on Druckenwell. And finally, a whole family of Anzat half-breeds and their fullblooded mother, a dangerous dark side force dynasty developing out in Tatooine's harsh deserts. Vyshaan was commended by the council for this good work, especially placed alongside her long history of teaching. Early fears about her energetic nature were thoroughly put to rest along with most venerable of the masters that voiced them. At a hair over seventy years old, Verity was offered an interim position on the Jedi High Council. Happily, she accepted. Part VI - Funeral Songs "I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time." Master Tomas Konshi's passing was inevitable. That he died happy, at home, with both his previous students in residence and at hand, was really something of a statistical anomaly for an old warrior. Verity and Iyel Di'Santi lit his bier together, sharing stories of their apprenticeships deep into the knight. They shared a belated friendship made strange by the iron gray in the younger woman's hair. For the first time, Verity considered her own species' long lives in a negative light. It could be a lonely couple of centuries - though, thankfully, she was hardly the first Jedi to ever consider the press of time. Advice was at hand, among the council and elsewhere in the Order, and very welcome at that. The return of the Sith Order and resurgence of the Empire shook the Jedi as a whole, Council included. Vyshaan was historically in favor of supporting the Republic in the efforts against the Sith though not, perhaps, with the fervor of some others. She was sad to see the Blades go, and glad to welcome them back after the Death of Taris. Vyshaan was confirmed as Battlemaster Mordin Alvere's replacement in year 3600. She took two new padawans, Rikkavi and Jho, soon after. Liaison between the Order and the Republic brass, her logistic and strategic accomplishments gathered fame and notoriety in equal volume, until she could hardly stand to give another interview. The Peace of Prazhi, and a return to teaching, were both deeply welcome. Verity resigned from her position on the Jedi council in protest of Project Vanguard, a planet-destroying Republic superweapon. |
