Living by the Sword [Adumar]

[Aeternus]

If there was one thing that Karath had noticed about hyperspace travel, it was that some vessels seemed to make the journey more smoothly than others. This Nubian Courier-class yacht, resplendent in the red and white of a Republic diplomatic vessel, soared so gently that he felt like it wasn't moving at all. There was a strange sort of comfort to be found there, at least to his mind; a peaceful respite ahead of the task that awaited him and his fellows at the end of their journey.

Adumar - a world of chivalric principles of honour, celebrated spectacles of piloting skill, and a storied cultural tradition of settling disputes by means of individual duels. The world had always maintained its political neutrality, swayed neither by the Republic or the Sith Empire, though its strong munitions industry was of certain interest to both of them. The Republic had never made any concerted attempts to bring Adumar into the fold, at least not since relations between the two parties took a turn for the sour who knew how long ago; news that the world as a whole had begun showing signs of favour for the Empire, however, had spurred a more active response. If Adumar would not join the Republic, then their continued neutrality was the best option on the Republic's table, for the Empire would surely put Adumar's manufacturing to immediate and indispensible use to help their military recover from the damage inflicted by the Archeri invasion.

Helping to ensure that the status quo remained was why Karath and his two compatriots were here.

"Captain Zalra!" greeted Karath as he entered the ship's central lounge. This was a round, spacious room, dominated by a circular holotable which was flanked by plush seats that lined the longer walls. Standing ponderously over the table was Dun Zalra, a lanky Kel Dor of sandy yellow skin who wore the uniform of the Republic Diplomatic Corps. He stood at the head of this diplomatic team, which placed him in de facto command of the ship.

"Good evening, Master Jedi," Dun answered, and bowed his head.

"Is it evening?" Karath wondered.

"Last I checked my chrono on Coruscant time," chuckled the Kel Dor from behind his antitox mask. "Miss Myles estimates five minutes until our arrival in the Katorrs system. We'll make planetfall on Adumar as soon as we have clearance. As requested, I've sent for Master Ticrom and Knight Oran to join us here for a final briefing."

"Much appreciated." Smiling cordially and bowing his own head, Karath helped himself to a seat at the holotable. Not much to be done until his fellows arrived.

[Ysmir]

---

Macen tensed in his seat a bit as the ship jostled in hyperspace, the only time it had done so in their entire trip.

Even now, years and years since his admission into the Order proper, Macen wasn't used to FTL travel. Ironic, really, for a so-called Warrior of the Light and Guardian of the Peace to be rendered uncomfortable by something that had existed for far longer than himself. But the Force certainly had a unique sense of humour, so Macen didn't question it much.

Within his quarters, there was peace and quiet; he hated that. Jokingly, of course. Any ally of the Force would be insane to not value the respite that silence could bring. And after all, a seemingly easy assignment, with little chance of conflict, was why he had tagged along, wasn't it?

That was what he told himself, of course.

Really, the thing that caught Macen's eye, the tidbit of information that lured him so, was that something was amiss on Adumar. Nothing but rumours, to be sure, but Macen was an adherent to the belief that many rumours carried a modicum of truth, however small it may be. The Galaxy was at odds with itself more than ever now, and with the decision on Prazhi moving forward, and whispers abound that both the Republic and the Empire were prepping for potential conflict, no stone could be left unturned. No planet or people could be left unattended. A single mistake, and everything the Order has strived for in the last century could come undone. That was why he was here; to root out injustice and bring it to the light, as was his oath.

A part of him hoped, as he stared out the viewscreen to the funneling blue vortex, this trip wouldn't come to that. Master Ticrom was a fantastic orator, and he was certain that she'd be able to sway the Adumar nobility to their point of view given the opportunity. Three Jedi may seem a bit overkill, but Macen rationalized that if rumours were to be taken seriously, they might need the extra presence.

He was reminded by the sing-song tone emitting from his hip that their debriefing would start soon. He pushed himself to his feet and made way for the door.

Macen dressed pragmatically for the occasion. Under his brown robes he wore his energyweave tunic of lightweight polymer and ballistic mesh, sleeveless, to afford unhindered movement if (when) the time came. The hallway door he approached parted into the central lounge, where he beheld Dun Zalra and one of his Jedi companions whom he was unacquainted with.

"Captain Zalra, good to see you," Macen said with a nod and a small smile as he entered into the lounge proper. Macen was only vaguely familiar with the Kel Dor, but he knew their people to be a wise and strong-willed type.

Then, he made his way to the table, taking a seat directly adjacent to his fellow Knight. He was on the younger side from the features of his face, but full of confidence and a desire to do good. That was reason enough for Macen to be comfortable with his presence here. "And you must be Karath. It's good to meet face-to-face."

[That's So Wizard]

Adumar. Such a curious culture yet also aligned with the Galactic norm in so many ways. The pursuit of physical dominance and perfection, the adoration of skill over wisdom, the glorification of weapon's manufacturing. The Republic may see such ideals as alien but they had more in common than either of them thought; exactly why, in many ways, Cassie knew that Adumar would sit well in the Republic.

Their violent customs would be seen as honorable duels, their obsession with starfighters seen as a trial of skill and their weapons manufacturing drained for everything that it was worth. Force willing, she would have saved them from this fate, attaching them to such a barely cobbled together writhing mass of a political system but she knew in her heart of hearts that the alternate was so, so much worse. Perhaps not for the politicians but the people they represented.

Yet Adumar also provided a challenge, one she had faced before but not one she was particularly suited for. This society prized physical confrontation over all, ingratiating it even into their art and literature; even their music told of great deeds by respected warriors. While on the surface more controlled and even-tempered, it seemed to remind her of the warring families of the Zabrak, where blood feuds would last for centuries even over small slights. They would have to be careful.

She counted herself lucky to have Macen and Karath with her.

Two of the most promising new Jedi of the past thirty years-... No, it wasn't right to refer to them as 'new Jedi', especially Macen. She often had to remind herself that simply because in relative time they were still children to her, by the standards of their species they were adults.

She touched a hand to her neck in contemplation, kneeling within her chambers. Should a champion be needed, both of them were more than suited for the task and should an investigation be required both were wise enough to see where the lines crossed. Her job was to simply advise the Diplomatic Corps on a course of action and perhaps to use her oratory abilities to assist. Perhaps it would be a good idea to learn one of their cultural songs, so that she might play it for them.

"Oh!" She jumped slightly and gave a gentle laugh at the sudden beep of the intercom system. They were requesting her presence, most likely for a briefing. Music would have to wait. Gracefully the instrument she had selected earlier floated into it's holder, the white-clad Jedi Master standing to regard her chambers. Such a small place felt so serene and comforting, she had begun to appreciate her time alone to meditate a lot more since the war ended.

The War...

Her expression saddened momentarily, until she was able to push it from her mind, moving through the ship with the poise of a dancer. Thoughts of the war would not erode her mind again today, she was the most senior Jedi Master aboard this vessel both in age and experience... they were all counting on her to be their guide. To have her mind and judgement clouded at such a time would be a disservice to all of them.

With a soft hiss the door opened to reveal the lounge, Cassie stepping over the threshold into the spacious but cozy room. A holotable set out with numerous chairs, three already taken by Macen, Karath and the leader of their little expedition Captain Zalra. "Koh-too-yah, Captain. I apologize for being ever so slightly late, time seems to get away from me these days." A soft smile coated her face as she moved towards the table, taking a seemingly random seat. "It is lovely to see all three of you well."

Macen had a face she recognized all too well, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. She had known him ever since he was young and they had conversed many a time, he even seemed to trust her enough to ask for advice with certain delicate matters or situations and yet in the way he carried himself and the look in his eyes there was a sense of loss. Pain. Perhaps not anything specific but that same hollow had been in so many Jedi that returned from the war.

Karath on the other hand, although she had also known him since his younger days, was altogether more naive and headstrong, perhaps not in his mannerisms or speech but in his desire to be a hero. To be a Jedi people could be proud of.

It felt like she was looking at a before and after picture.

Such a thought caused an ache on her heart; one all too familiar.

"Please Captain, inform us of the situation. I will assist where I can."