Post by Bones on Nov 25, 2009 2:32:00 GMT -5
It was no secret to anybody in the Order that Council Member Kaiven Te’Baas was the last surviving Rogue Jedi from the conflicts of the Dxun Uprising, a fact that he tried to forget every single day he had woken up. He had killed ruthlessly and efficiently in those months spent hopping from planet to planet, and that is where his problems lay. He had seen the evils of war first hand, and it was with a great sadness that he could feel others looking to him, seeing if he would commit those evils again. He knew he would not. His closest companions knew he would not. Unfortunately, many lower ranking knights thought that he would.
He sat alone in his favourite meditation garden, the evening sun warming his face between the gaps of the icy cool breeze. He sighed, forcing the feeble feelings of temperature away from his mind, allowing his mind to become empty. A clean canvas for the art that was surely about to unfold. The art of Kaiven remembering the past. He pulled back certain memories, memories that plagued him forever in his sleep. He could see their faces and helmets amongst the shadows of the leaves, illuminated by the blaster bolts flying through the air, and occasionally, and only momentarily, by the lightsabre the younger form of his own self. Death and destruction ruled supreme in the forest of that final fight, a fight that would no longer be about victory for their opponents, but now about survival. They had just become the most dangerous and ruthless opponent. He allowed his memories to progress, until eventually the source of his worries was evident. His old master, and later Dark Jedi, Fih Losun. He tried to imagine what could have possibly given her the taint of a shadow in her heart, and he knew the answer was simple. War.
He opened his eyes, looking around at the other Jedi in the gardens, glad to notice a majority of them were deep in their own meditation. He looked away from the others, not avoiding their gaze, as he accepted their thoughts as natural, but keeping his own off theirs, headed towards the reflecting pool in the middles of the garden. He stared into the water, at the reflection of the mask hiding his face. He sighed before saying to himself, “How many more must join the dark? How many more must suffer for them?” He stood, taking his eyes off the water, “I feel the darkness coming, and I fear it will envelope us in a permanent night.” Of course, he did not talk to anybody in particular. He turned on his heel, walking back towards the building.
He pulled his cloak tighter around his body, protecting against the chill of the breeze that was floating it’s way through the temple. Eventually he made his way to one of the many training rooms located in the temple. He found an empty area, knowing that there was only one way to truly force these thoughts out of his mind, even for a moment. He activated the training computer, which created a simulated Dark Jedi, one from his own memories, for him to fight.
He lit his sabre, feeling the warmth of the violet blade, and commenced. The two figures, one of the Jedi Councillor and the other the young Krath student, moved gracefully, their sabres clashing. Kaiven allowed himself to get lost in the fight, only caring about his and his opponent’s sabres. Eventually, however, he admitted to himself that the temporary measure was not what he needed. He knew that he would not feel completely comfortable with the war until either he was an active part in it, or it was finished. However, until that came, he still needed to free his mind.
He sat alone in his favourite meditation garden, the evening sun warming his face between the gaps of the icy cool breeze. He sighed, forcing the feeble feelings of temperature away from his mind, allowing his mind to become empty. A clean canvas for the art that was surely about to unfold. The art of Kaiven remembering the past. He pulled back certain memories, memories that plagued him forever in his sleep. He could see their faces and helmets amongst the shadows of the leaves, illuminated by the blaster bolts flying through the air, and occasionally, and only momentarily, by the lightsabre the younger form of his own self. Death and destruction ruled supreme in the forest of that final fight, a fight that would no longer be about victory for their opponents, but now about survival. They had just become the most dangerous and ruthless opponent. He allowed his memories to progress, until eventually the source of his worries was evident. His old master, and later Dark Jedi, Fih Losun. He tried to imagine what could have possibly given her the taint of a shadow in her heart, and he knew the answer was simple. War.
He opened his eyes, looking around at the other Jedi in the gardens, glad to notice a majority of them were deep in their own meditation. He looked away from the others, not avoiding their gaze, as he accepted their thoughts as natural, but keeping his own off theirs, headed towards the reflecting pool in the middles of the garden. He stared into the water, at the reflection of the mask hiding his face. He sighed before saying to himself, “How many more must join the dark? How many more must suffer for them?” He stood, taking his eyes off the water, “I feel the darkness coming, and I fear it will envelope us in a permanent night.” Of course, he did not talk to anybody in particular. He turned on his heel, walking back towards the building.
He pulled his cloak tighter around his body, protecting against the chill of the breeze that was floating it’s way through the temple. Eventually he made his way to one of the many training rooms located in the temple. He found an empty area, knowing that there was only one way to truly force these thoughts out of his mind, even for a moment. He activated the training computer, which created a simulated Dark Jedi, one from his own memories, for him to fight.
He lit his sabre, feeling the warmth of the violet blade, and commenced. The two figures, one of the Jedi Councillor and the other the young Krath student, moved gracefully, their sabres clashing. Kaiven allowed himself to get lost in the fight, only caring about his and his opponent’s sabres. Eventually, however, he admitted to himself that the temporary measure was not what he needed. He knew that he would not feel completely comfortable with the war until either he was an active part in it, or it was finished. However, until that came, he still needed to free his mind.