There is no emotion... (A Jedi Order Quest)

Year in Summary 3948 BBY
Atton looks somewhere between shellshocked and braindead as he hears the news. You can't tell whether he's more surprised that you voted for him, or that Mical had the idea to begin with, but you can feel the pressure seeping off of him through the Force.

Not surprising, when you consider who else has held the title.

Your comms chime, and a moment later a holographic image of Sergeant Boncur projects itself to the Council. "Ah, Master Jedi? We uh, we have visitors. They say they're here for training."

Oh boy. "How many, Sergeant?"

"Seven, sir."

"So, not to be Captain Obvious, but has anybody else noticed that we're sort of outnumbered by the Initiates?"

"Yes, we noticed. We have-" Bastila bites her tongue before she finishes the Idiom. "Ah, we're aware."

"Something must be done."

"Something will be done. Send them in Sergeant."

Results of The Year:

95PP After negotiation
95 Knowledge
Holocron of Homonix Rectonia, Holocron of Vodo-Siosk Baas, Holocron of Nomi Sunrider, Holocron of Odan-Urr, Holocron of Sar Agorn, Holocron of the Unknown Jedi
70 Engagement+23 Engagement->93 Engagement
Learning From the Past (Complete)
Broad Applications (5/10)
Dantooine +20 (329/500)
Telos +20 (20/100)
14 Initiates
 
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Omake: Back To Basics
Alrighty then! With the vote done, have an Omake I worked on! Thanks to TaliesinSkye for helping me edit this.

Back to Basics

Dud-dud-dunt. Dud-dud-dunt. Brianna cast a scathing look to the direction of the obtrusive noise, or more so at its cause. Atton Rand offered a casual, almost jovial wave of the hand in return, before continuing to strum his fingers along the arm of his seat. His immense boredom could be seen as well as felt through the Force by the rest of the Council, even as they conducted their discussions in spite of the noise. With Atton it was anyone's guess as to whether his boredom was a disguise, or his true feelings.

Still, he kept clued into the ongoing noise, even as he mentally kept count of his game within his head. Flip the 2, subtract from 21. At 19 now… good enough, stand. His mental gymnastics kept him occupied as the rest of the members rehashed events. Yadayada dark side, yadayada sending Sith holocrons into the stellar garbage shoot. All pretty standard fare in the Sentinel's eye.

"And so, we move on to the next topic of discussion," Bao-Dur began, his tone locked and steady in that way it always was. "As we are all aware, we are to hold an election for the position of Battlemaster in today's meeting. I assume you all looked over the messages I sent you regarding primary candidates?"

"I would like to say, before anything, that I wish not to be put in such a role. I believe myself more suited to the front-lines of combat, and have not much mind for things like tactics," stated Juhani. Bao-Dur nodded, but frowned.

"Unfortunate, but your opinion will be noted, Master Juhani." She seemed calmed by this, as her presence in the Force mellowed itself out. While a skilled fighter in her own right, Juhani was one of the most easily read of the Council, her emotions echoing outward through the Force she actively suppressed them.

"Do we have any volunteers?" Bao-Dur asked. No voices were heard, no hands were raised, and so the man sighed. "Alright. Let us hear the nominations then."

Brianna was the first to speak, almost immediately. "I would nominate Bastilla." Their eyes met, a mutual respect evident between the two. "Her experience in previous battles speaks for itself. I believe her leadership will allow proper teamwork to be fostered throughout the Order. A core understanding of group cohesion is something that should hold priority."

The Council gave thought to the words, Bastilla taking in the praise with a straight face. Then she spoke as well, "I nominate Brianna." A slight smile, as though she were amused by herself. "She has much to teach, and a lifetime of culture and techniques to share and incorporate. Her fighting prowess is among the greatest of us all. Would anyone disagree?" None did.

Yet more time spent considering the proposal. Bao-Dur glanced around the room, filtering out his thoughts to truly analyze whom he thought fit the role best.

"I nominate Atton."

The man known as Atton Rand lost count of his cards.

Mical met the eyes of confused compatriots, resolve on his face. He returned the harsh flare of the Sentinel without an expression marred by his thoughts. Taking in the confused mass of the Council, Mical gave his take on the discussion. "It is to my belief that the Jedi as a whole were defeated not just by the Sith, but their unwillingness to adapt to new threats. They grew too hidebound, too caught up within their assured safety behind the walls of the temples… I would hope that this new Order we are creating can avoid the same mistakes repeated by the previous generation."

"And how's that involve me?" Atton's voice was cutting, suspicion tinging his tone, though somehow retaining the professional lilt to it that had slowly been creeping into his voice since he'd taken on a Padawan. His posture was tense now with his eyes narrowed, his presence extended in the Force, searching for a trap.

Mical met his suspicion without hesitation and with a calm to his voice. "You have prior experience working with the Sith, do you not?" An uncomfortable question, though Atton had long since divulged such knowledge to his companions, and so with a glare the man gave a tight nod. "You have developed your own manner of defenses against certain Force related techniques, have studied different avenues of approach to defeat Sit-"

"Jedi," he interrupted, hostility now clear. "I learned how to hunt Jedi. Not Sith."

Mical cleared his throat, tripped up only momentarily by the interruption. "Ah. Yes. Regardless, such a long list of experience fighting Force users without your own use of the Force is commendable, and could prove paramount in any future battles the Republic may come to face. It is my belief that you would make an excellent Battlemaster."

Their gazes were locked, matching one another up in a rivalry of wills that had never truly been decided. Bao-Dur's slight clap of the hands was enough to jostle them, the sound of flesh meeting metal resonating in the Council Chamber.

"Right then. Is that everyone?" He looked around the room, searching for detractors, before nodding. "If you all would, please cast your vote."

"Bastilla." Brianna spoke first once again.

"Brianna." Bastilla followed up smoothly.

"Atton." Mical was not far behind.

"Brianna." Juhani unsurprisingly followed the lead of her friend in this matter.

"Hmm. Atton." Mira had an odd smirk on her face as she spoke, an interest in her eyes that was rarely found during these meetings.

"Bastilla." Atton said, odd tone to his voice.

"...Atton." A few measured looks of surprise towards Visas, who remained resolute in her vote despite it.

"And as the final vote here, I too vote for Atton." Bao-Dur concluded, even as the human male slumped back in his seat with shock at the turnaround in today's discussions. "That is," he continued, steepling his fingers together and looking to the former smuggler, "if you would take the position. Of course this is not going to be forced upon you. You are free to reject it and leave it to someone else."

"...what choice do I have, if people think I'm the guy for the job? Would hate to let everyone down." False bravado entering his tone, alongside a hint of resignation. "I'll do it."

And so the meeting was called to an end.

Atton slowly shuffled his way back to his room, mind wandering, before receiving a message from his comms. A look down at its contents had him frowning.

Meet in the Training Halls. - Brianna

He sighed, considering the possibilities of ignoring the schutta before abandoning that train of thought. He had to be 'responsible' now and that meant going to meet other members of the Council when called. He mentally cursed himself as he turned down a separate corridor, beelining for the Training Halls. Placing a hand on the final door, he could sense Brianna in the room inside, not bothering to hide her presence. The door opened with a hiss and he took a step inside.

"Alright, what's so import-"

It took him almost a quarter of a second to register that the presence he'd felt in the room was already fading, and beneath it he could now sense the one that had been concealed behind it. It took even less time for his body to drop, entering an unarmed stance, defending himself.

Brianna took a fraction of the time to penetrate every defense and lay him out flat on his back, the breath leaving his body in a huff of expelled air.

"You were not ready," she cut the atmosphere with a cold voice like a blade. "I was barely making an effort to hide myself from you and yet I took you by surprise. Were we not allies, you would be dead."

The man in question struggled to rise, chest still trying to recoup as air fought to reach his lungs. "Well excuse me for not expecting to be attacked by a crazy schutta!" He was clearly ready for battle now, body entering Echani battle forms that were ingrained in his stance. Even so, Brianna frowned at the sight.

"You are excused," she allowed. "Still, if you are to be in charge of administering training to so many… you cannot allow yourself to be unprepared." The determined sound in her voice took Atton off guard.

"Oh yeah? And why do you care?"

Her frown spoke volumes. "I care because I do not believe you are worthy of the role you have been given. You are lazy and unmotivated, you treat your tasks with behavior unfitting of your station. Therefore, I will ensure that you are ready. I will not have others suffer for your failings."

To Atton strangely enough, her hostility was comforting. Familiar. Put the entire situation into perspective. "And if I refuse?" He questioned carefully.

"Then I shall bring my complaints to the Grandmaster. It is not my place to question the judgment of the Council's final decision, and so unless my hand is forced, I will make do with what I have." She looked the man's form up and down, frowning as her scrutiny intensified. "Your form is unfinished. Stance not cemented in the basics. Whoever taught you did a terrible job."

His pride taking a hit at the slight, Atton was quick to counter, "I'll have you know I'm self-taught. Lots of Echani mercs on both sides of the war, and you end up fighting quite a few if you survive long. I picked up what I could. Excuse me if it isn't exactly up to your standards of perfection, your Highness."

"I am not royalty," she countered. "And that is fine. I will have to bring you back to the basics. Now, watch closely."

So it was that Atton came to immediately regret having taken the job of Battlemaster.
 
Honoring the Fallen
[O] Honoring the Fallen
Honoring the Fallen

Red lekku are matted with blood and filth and worse things. Despite everything her eyes still shine with a keen, low, light, harsh in the absolute blackness that surrounds them. "You know, on Dantooie, there's...I have a journal. It has a few stories you might like to hear."

His only response is-

"Atton!"
He wakes up, wiping some of the drool off of his face with the back of his glove. Not that he was asleep, but he wasn't awake, either. The archive is quiet, the journal is in his hands, and she was right.

It does have a story he'd like to hear-- her, the Jedi's, story of going to Ilum for her lightsaber crystal. She-- Ygarra, that is her name, he has burnt it into his brain irreparably at this point-- tells a simple story, as close to straightforward as Jedi ever get. The biggest problem of course, is that like most of the Jedi she's writing about it from the assumption that everybody already knows where it is, so they never actually put down the damn location.

Fuckin' Jedi.

He realizes at a certain point that Brianna is still talking, so he tunes back in. "-And furthermore, you are setting a terrible precedent for the Initiates, some of whom are in severe need of--"

"Alright, alright! I. Get. It. I will go to sleep, after I have checked the damn journal one last time. Okay?" Brianna stands there, her arms folded, looking for all the world like a father. "You aren't going to leave, are you?"

"No."

"Hrm."

There's just one passage he keeps going back to. It describes the ship landing, the stars already out and waiting for them. For obvious reasons, that's likely to be the place where he might find some clue as to its location, but so far she has focused on a singular detail:

And all the stars hang high over head, twinkling like little jewels, sparks dancing an intricate ballet, each a single dancer in the night. Except for the Black Heart, but I don't think we need him around, now do we?

And then she just wanders off, metaphorically and literally, and it's like she's trying to get revenge on him from the grave, or the Force, or wherever Jedi go when they kick off the physical realm-- not important. What is important is that he's five minutes from breaking his own neck so--

Wait. Wait, wait, wait one fucking second.

He knows that term. Supposedly, it's the code name for where Revan sent the real freaks and monsters-- the guys who would have known "Sleep with vibroblades" far too personally. Now, he doesn't know where that is exactly, either, but he does know what would cause that effect-- namely, a pretty damn close orbit around its star, which is the case on that world according to rumor; and while he's no physicist, he know that the gravity of two worlds so close together will have a real effect.

He inputs the coordinates that Bao-Dur already found. XY doesn't work unless Ilum is secretly inside of Tattooine, and XZ doesn't work unless Jedi can survive being pulled apart by a black hole. YZ, though? Brings the screen to a position that looks just about right, the Kaidos Run, where a thousand quasi-debris fields are formed for no, currently, explicable reason-- but, it sure would make a lot of sense if they were being pulled towards something.

"I think I found Ilum."

And he passes out.
--
He wriggles as the ship cuts through hyperspace-- they've chartered a new captain for this so they can focus on, well...

"This is something of a gamble, isn't it?" Mical shifts in his seat.

"What, you trust me enough to teach all the squirts how to lightsaber duel, but not how to find Ilum?"

"I did not say that. I trust you plenty. But-"

Before they can argue, Brianna vomits, which sort of cuts that short. The captain looks back from the cockpit. "Is she alright?"

"Atris-- she walked here. She-- it's here. Ilum."

Now that you mention it, uh.

You only really saw Atris once, when she turned herself in to you. You could sense, even then, the hurt she was screaming into the Force-- a part of you wondered how you ever been blind to it, how the Exile had been blind to it. If Meetra carried the deaths of Malachor, screaming, in her soul, then Atris carried a little death-- every loss at Katarr echoed in her, their melancholy, running far deeper than the simple betrayal that had wounded her at the start of the Mandalorian wars.

Since she does not know about the only other rock that might justify coming out here, and since this looks like an iceball and not an oversized piece of dirt, you think this is it-- Ilum.

It's...the Force here is strange. Not twisted, like on Korriban-- almost more like if Kreia was in your head, except not an absolute nightmare. Every part of this world, you realize, is carved to make you the best you can be-- much as Kreia sought to do for her students, except it has a very different notion of what the best would be.

Namely, you get the sense that Revan himself could not survive on its surface without...inner strength, yes, but more importantly the ability to work with others. You would need allies, connections, to endure the cold of its surface.

In any case, you have found Ilum, for what good that currently does you.
--
Ilum discovered
 
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Omake: Love and Hope
I had a bit of time on my hands so I wrote up another Omake! Not as long as the first but it covers something I was wondering how everyone was handling, so I explored it a bit. I also love Visas so I thought she'd be fun to get a look inside her head.

Love and Hope

Visas Marr struggled against her thoughts, her body writhing in agony within invisible restraints. Her head shot up suddenly, her small bed within her bare room creaking beneath her, the sweat soaking into her nightwear.

A man with his hair swept back and a few scars lining his face sat alongside Her. His presence could be felt, an all encompassing field of light, a soothing and immense power that was beyond compare. And yet, She did not falter, shaking his hand and greeting him warmly.

"It's been a longtime," She began with a light smile on Her face. "And I've come a long way to find you, Revan."


The memories grew blurry. Hazy and without focus but the barest recollection of lightsabers and blaster fire danced across the Miraluka's vision as she struggled to recall the entirety of the dream. But it was already fading.

With a sigh she stood on unsteady feet, opening her door and taking a step out into the dark halls. Her light footsteps were soundless as she made her way out of the temple, into the no doubt moonlit grassy fields of Dantooine. Her feet tickled against the soft grass, and she made her way over to a stream nearby. Already she could feel her travels were leading her somewhere specifically, and so she followed the will of the Force, leading her to a presence along the stream.

"Couldn't sleep?" The rugged, sardonic tone was oddly soft for her fellow Council member.

"I had a vision," Visas admitted, taking a seat a safe distance away from the other Sentinel. "She found Revan… and She found danger along with him."

Atton was silent, taking even breaths as he turned his head upwards to the stars above.

"She… she's gonna be okay. We all still feel her, y'know? None of us mention it, but that bond is still there, that link that binds us all. She held us all together, but now we need to trust her to be okay on her own. Besides… the more I think about the thought of her out there, in danger, the more likely I am to leave all this behind me and run after her." He took a calming breath.

"How do you not?" Visas couldn't quite tell what made her ask, desperation in her voice she couldn't place the source of. "Two Jedi alone, out there, even those two… these visions I have leave me worried that perhaps we made a terrible mistake to let her go on her own. What if She has need of us, and our belief in Her prevents us from realizing it?"

Silence met her questioning, before a soft presence in the Force prodded at her. She met it questioningly, but allowed him to link with her - a much less familiar link to what she'd had with Her. Looser, less familiar and easily broken.

"What do you feel?" His voice was distant, muffled through the Force.

"... Fear." She answered truthfully.

"I feel it too. But look deeper through the bond. What do you see in me?" He allowed Visas to search further, and a part of his mind was walled off, impenetrable and unable to be seen. However another section was willingly opened to her. She found a memory. The Ebon Hawk, as She sat across from him in deep meditation. The two spoke together, played Pazaak, and Visas felt what Atton felt. Love. Not romance, though maybe that was hidden behind his walls, but that love was immense, and with it was hope. A belief in Her that was not going to be shattered in a lifetime.

Atton prodded her, and Visas retreated from his mind.

"I see…" she admitted, her nerves somehow settled.

"She's going to be okay," Atton said confidently. "Because we still feel her. Let the fear leave you and remember what she was, what she felt like. Everytime I get worried, and I feel that slimy worm called fear crawling back into my brain, I remember Her and it all fades away. That bond exists because she's out there, fighting. She's a survivor… now let's do our part that she entrusted in us, so she can do hers."

"... you're being surprisingly insightful." Atton snorted at the comment, losing the gentle quality to his voice as he laughed.

"Please. I just don't wanna have more work to do because you have an emotional breakdown. Do you know how much work I do now? Some brat held her saber up to her face in class today - lucky it was a training saber but she'll be lucky if her eyebrows grow back in the next couple of months."

Visas felt a smile rise on her lips, as a surprisingly light laughter left her. She stood, mood uplifted. "Then I'll leave you to your peace. Thank you for your assistance."

The man waved her away casually. "Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it. Seriously, don't."

Visas walked away, a peace within her that she hadn't felt for sometime. And so that night, she had her first restful night's sleep in weeks.
 
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Omake: An Old Bond
Well, the recent string of omakes and my own actual experiences and love for kotor means that I actually felt like writing. So here, have another, and hopefully you'll like it!

An Old Bond

She was awakened by the sound of an explosion and the groan of rending metal. The shaking of her world and quick awakening from sleep. Her eyes shot open as adrenaline rushed through her veins. Quickly, she sat up and looked around the room, only pausing when another detonation rang out, and the ship she awoke on shook once again. Though none of these managed to impede her balance, or the ship's artificial gravity, it was extremely worrying to her that a warship would act so.

Only full combat should manage to cause such effects. Which only made her question why she was asleep in the middle of an attack, and who the attacker in question was.

Undaunted by her line of questioning, she examined the room, finding a pair of bunks, a small lounge area, a pair of footlockers, and only a single door. She moved to one of the footlockers, only barely noticing her lack of clothing. Without forethought, she punched in a code and opened one of the footlockers, and, upon finding some clothes and a pair of weapons, donned them and picked up the blade that awaited her.

Simple, unadorned, and remarkably unimpressive, it still felt right in a way she didn't think she could express with words. Still confused and ready to fight or flee, she reacted quickly when the only door in the room opened unexpectedly, and brandished her longsword at the uniformed man that ran inside.

"We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! The Endar Spire is under attack! Hurry up - we don't have much time!" Without prompting, and only barely backpedaling from her blade, the blond haired soldier forced out his words in a hurry, some close calls with a blaster still obvious upon his clothing.

"Who are you?" Another man's voice rang out. She was confused for but a moment, before understanding that it was her voice that had spoken. Her question for the man, and her confusion and curiosity. Her heart hurt to hear it, but she had no idea why.

"I'm Trask Ulgo, ensign with the Republic Fleet. I'm your bunk mate here on the Endar Spire. We work opposite shifts; I guess that's why you haven't seen me before." Her blade lowering, and the situation revealing itself to her through Trask, she felt herself nod. "Now hurry up, we have to find Bastila! We have to make sure she makes it off the ship alive!"

She wondered who Bastila was, and felt her mouth open once more...


~~~~~~~~

With a quick exhale, she awoke in her own bed. In the Enclave. She was safe - no Sith attack, no dead men. She was still combat ready, and recognizing this, sat up and settled herself for some meditation, focusing on calming herself down, and eventually turning back to the vision she had received.

It was not one of her memories, but she felt like she had experienced it before all the same. It was, as such, quite obvious just who's memory it was, then. It would seem the man she loved was truly still among the living. And still finding ways to make her lose sleep, it would seem.

While not the worst of Revan's memories to have endured, it still pained her. To hear his voice again. To have another recognition of the bond they had shared for so long now. Not to mention what sins she had played a part in, no matter how minor a role it really was. It was her fault he woke that day so confused about everything, and then working so hard with Carth to reunite with her. Not to mention the failure of her first command, and the men and women lost because of it.

Failing to focus still, her thoughts managed to drift to one of those places she seldom walked...

...A part of her still wondering if she had felt him, those days on Taris. Getting closer to her, coming to save her. She might've been perfectly fine taking on those blasted Vulkurs by her lonesome, but there has long been a part of her that wonders if their Bond had let her know about him, addled and cut off from the Force as she was at the time. Reassuring her, in those dark, hazy days, that she was no longer alone.

...A part of her that ached to have him back. To raise their son together, without the threat of yet more Sith hanging over their lives. To not feel so alone, even when surrounded by friends and her new family.

Refocusing and attempting to let go of such thoughts, she tried centering herself again.

~~~~~~~~

Well anyways, there you go. One more omake for my (very short) pile. In spite of my ability to recall pretty much every part of the Endar Spire (minus Trask's actual wording), the memory portion fought with me a lot. So I went ahead and cut it off there. I figured I could make more snippets like that if I felt up to it at some point, but was otherwise alright with leaving it off there.

Hopefully, I got Bastila's character well enough, as I have no experience writing her, and haven't played through their whole romance in a while. I tried my best, and so I shall hope it good enough! :V
 
Omake: Culture Clash
Culture Clash

Heavy footfalls sounded out with every step the former bounty hunter took within the halls of the Jedi Temple on Dantooine. Arms tucked inside her robes, the woman allowed herself this moment to take in the energies of the Force around her, basking in its presence.

Bao-Dur, meditating in his chambers as he no doubt deliberated on one thing or another.

Brianna performing her daily exercises in the sanctity of the Training Hals.

Atton discussing something or another with the Miraluka Visas - the two had been getting along more. Considering the often tense atmosphere between the last of the Jedi, it was thankful that some were taking to furthering their relationships. Not to say everyone hated each-other, but Meetra Surik had been the catalyst for them all, a glue that bound them all as one. Without her? Well, there was a reason Mira could rarely be seen talking to anyone outside of mandated meetings.

Oh, she could also sense the presence following her around every corridor. With a deep sigh, she mentally uplifted her stalker, a deep and guttural yell of fright ringing out and echoing down the hallways. With a turn, and a hand on her hip, Mira lifted a brow at a somewhat familiar face.

"So," she began, approaching the person, whom was currently rubbing his horns from where they'd landed on the ground. He looked up at her, eyes wide like prey in its final moments. Mira felt herself smirking despite herself, "you've been following me for the last hour. Gonna talk, or what?" She knew she looked cocky, hand on her hip and staring down the bulky kid. He squawked, mumbling incoherently as he rose unsteadily to his feet. Yellow skin with black markings along it, Mira could immediately make out the resemblance between this kid and their resident Grandmaster.

"Ah, hello! I am Ralec - Ralec Varn," He began, voice a deep rumble as the awkward lad towered over the relatively smaller woman. "I was... watching your movements," he explained. "It reminded me of my fellow people. I wanted to ask you, how you came to adopt such a thing - it is not often I see anyone baring your stance."

Mira tapped her foot, considering the question. "Kid," she began in an almost lazy tone, "I have no clue what you're talking about. Besides, I don't have much idea of your culture, Bao-Dur would probably be better suited to that kinda talk if you're looking for it."

The teen shook his head at the suggestion. "My apologies, I do not think I would find myself relating to the Grandmaster." At Mira's raise of the brow he elaborated. "I myself was born to a fringe colony along the Outer-Rim. While the details are lost to me now, I still recall some of it. I however, was taken during the earlier years of the Mandalorian Wars, as one of many, we were adopted young to be raised as Mandalorians. Things are much more... hostile, where I come from." Mira took stock of the towering teen, looking him up and down and finding only what he appeared to already be. "You don't seem the hostile type," she admitted, before continuing her walk, gesturing for the Zabrak to follow. He did so hesitantly.

"Yes, I am considered to be very 'tame' compared to my brothers and sisters. I do not have the heart for violence as many of them seem to." He pondered his next words as they found themselves in the courtyard. "I believe that is what spurred me on to come here. I could not embrace the militant doctrine as many of my fellow people were able to do. It often led me to become ill when I attempted to do so, a dark presence often associated with my attempts at great violence and want for blood-lust. However, there was little I could learn by myself, so when I spoke to my clan leader, I explained that I would be leaving to seek out a life for myself, and as such I offered payment through labor upon a nearby trading ship and made my way to a place that could better my understanding of the Force." His explanation ending when he looked around, catching up to where they'd arrived. A tree stood tall in the center of the courtyard, other Initiates casually making conversation with one another as they went around the enormous structure.

"Nice story kid," Mira stated, finding a stone bench nearby that she sat upon with a lazy cross of the legs. "Now c'mere and sit. You talk a lot." The adolescent hesitated, before he too sat on the stone bench, legs crossing underneath him like the woman. His movements were stiff and seemingly unsure, a reminder to her of how she herself often was growing up - it gave her a measure of fondness for the kid.

"Now," she began. "Stop thinking for a moment. Stop talking, stop doing anything at all. Feel out with the Force..." the boy tried, closing his eyes and attempting to grasp the Force. "Wrong," she chastised, as a link was made between the two. "Here, follow my lead." And so he was gently led by the 'hand', his presence being cast outward as a warmth began to encompass him. His presence was being directed outward, to the tree before them. "Feel this? Follow its roots." With that simple direction, she allowed him the freedom to explore the Force at his leisure. Eventually he let out a gasp.

"It is... it's immense. Connected to everything," Mira let herself smile at the progress. "I can feel the planet, its gentleness, the animals roaming in the plains." His eyes reopened, and he looked at Mira with what could easily be considered awe. "T-thank you Master Jedi! I have always wondered what it was that felt missing throughout my lessons growing up... it is good to know now what it was." A joyous smile lit the gentle giants face, as he offered an awkward bow.

"Glad I could help," she said truthfully, rising to her feet. "Well, I'll see you around kid. Try and practice that some more on your own time." With a wave she left him to his own devices, inwardly pleased at the success she'd helped him achieve.

A/N

Okay, so for anyone that saw this before the edit, you'd know I initially made the kiddo a Dathomirian... a sub-species of Zabrak that doesn't yet exist in this time-period! Oopsie, and thanks to @The Englanderish for pointing it out for me. It led to what I think is a far more compelling character - a quick deep dive tells me that the Zabrak colonies were one of the first and hardest to be hit at the beginning of the Mando Wars. That in mind, I put this kid as having been quite young when it all happens, resulting in him being still quite young now - Mandalorian Wars began in 3976, and KOTOR 2 ends in year 3951, so I'd say his colony probably got sacked around... 3967 - 68 or so? Just an estimate, I hope you guys enjoy!
 
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An Old Teacher+ Jedi Order Patrol Routes 3947 BBY
An Old Teacher

The Holocron's guardian speaks-- Nomi Sunrider, slain at Katarr as so many other Jedi were. She appears in the prime of her life, clad in the plain brown robes of the Jedi. Her lightsaber is clipped to her belt, and she stands with her arms folded behind her back. "Ossus was, and perhaps might be again, a Jedi world. There were places there, strong enough I think to guard our relics from utter destruction-- the thick walls of the Great Library may have endured, perhaps, or certain underground storehouses where we kept some of the more dangerous or valuable artifacts. In any case, seek out Ossus, young one, and there you will know us, who fought long before you."

The recording stops, and Bastila stands before you, expectantly. "It's hardly a whole map, but it is the most hope we've had of reclaiming the planet in years."

(+5 Ossus, +15 Knowledge)

"Thank you, Bastila. Now then, I believe we do have a duty, do we not?"

There's a twitch in your prosthetic-- you picked it up after the destruction of the Sith holocrons. Now, despite that giant coincidence you don't think that that is the handiwork of the Sith; it's too little for them, more likely just a bit of radiation managing to leak in through the shielding. Not everything bad that happens to Jedi can be lain at their feet-- that is giving them too much power, far, far too much power.

On the off chance you're wrong, though? You've spent the past six weeks meditating in your room, speaking to no-one, and having no visitors, except for your Padawan, who refuses to leave you behind. When he isn't in your room, meditating with you, he is outside your door, taking messages for you.

More importantly, he has been recording what he hears of your mumbling as you sleep. You remember altogether little of it, but you know they are not simple dreams-- they are visions of the past, of the sands of Korriban, before, perhaps, even the Exiles came. You feel no great concern about them, but again, if you are wrong, if this is some sort of ill considered plot by long-dead Sith to resurrect themselves by possessing you?

Well, your Padawan's around-- and he's pretty good with his lightsaber.

In any case, the panic that had been brewing died when you stepped out, whole and hearty and hale, for the Council Meeting-- the first one you have attended in the flesh since you noticed the prosthetic twitch.

As much as you might like to simply work on solving this mystery, you do have a job to do.

Available Jedi:

Grandmaster Bao Dur
Battlemaster Atton Rand
Councilor Mira
Councilor Visas Marr
Councilor Brianna
Councilor Bastila Shan
Councilor Juhani
3 Padawans


Assign Jedi to these Patrol Routes:

[] The Core: To be honest, this is likely the safest part of the Galaxy. You'd be surprised if anything more threatening than a few gangsters show up here anytime soon, and not very threatening ones either. Still, whatever does happen here, the entire galaxy knows about it, so if you just want to fly the flag, so to speak, this would be a good place for it.
([] Assign Jedi to patrol, needs 4 Vigilance)

[] The Mid-Rim: Wealthier than the Outer Rim, but without the commiserate military force, a surprising amount of Jedi patrols have always been focused here, being pirate bait and all. This is likely where combat, if it takes place, will take place. Sending some real muscle out here would be a wise plan.
([] Assign Jedi to patrol, needs 6 Vigilance)

[] The Outer Rim: A sparsely populated collection of agri worlds, you don't see too much trouble coming here, if it weren't for the Mandalorians. On the other hand, this is likely to be where the majority of your apprentices come from for the time being, so perhaps those more in tune with the Force would be a wise plan.
([] Assign Jedi to patrol, needs 2 Vigilance)
 
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Omake: Atton's Combat Training
Here is my offering to the Omake throne of Atton training the younglings/initiates.

Atton's Combat Training

Inside one of the rooms of the Enclave's sublevel, I looked at the 7 initiates in front of me, all from different backgrounds, all have different talents, all have to learn how to survive being a Jedi. First things firsts are basics.

"Welcome to combat training, I am Master Atton Rand from this day forward I will teach you the tools you need to survive as a Jedi, whether you like it or not." As I project the face of a stern instructor, like what Brianna does on a constant basis, and paced in front of them. A few are nervous, a few a determined to improve and a few show no emotion. "Before you can even touch a Training Saber and learn Lightsaber forms, you need to met the physical requirements of being a jedi. A Jedi that can't block a blaster because their arms are too slow or capture a criminal if they get tired after running for several minutes. The Force is a tool that can improve the Jedi's physical prowess, but viewing the Force as a crutch is a mistake that will get you killed one day. So for the next few weeks I will train your body to peak condition so that when you start Lightsaber training, you will have the stamina and reflexes to make the most of them."

I pulled out 4 Lightsaber shells each with a different colored stripe and show them to the initiates. "Now your first test will be rather simple, you are to run around the entire sublevel and pick up these 4 different batons at each of the 4 corners of the sublevel inside a box. Each box contains its own-colored lightsaber shell, so you need to travel to all 4 corners to get 4 different colored lightsabers. Those that got 4 different shells by noon gets to eat lunch, those that don't will get tied to a pole while I each your lunch in front of you." I gave them a cheeky smile before finishing with, "Oh, look at the time, my watch says that there is 45 minutes till noon, better start running."

A few of the more street smart initiates that was closer to the door bolted out the room the second I finished, while the more civilian initiates took a few seconds before running of as well. Of course it won't be just a simple run around the temple, I had a few of the doors locked, some of the doorways have tripwires (a thin wire meant to literally trip them), even had a few automated turrets I jury rigged in various location that fires stinging bolts. With hidden cameras on most of the locations where I put some traps, I get to see how they deal with different obstacles. Every session will be more of this until they can rise to the challenge but there will be a gradual increase in difficulty overtime with a few regular classes in between when a more technical lesson is required.

As I watch some of the more athletic initiates pull ahead, they were the first to find out that this isn't an ordinary race against the clock, as a motion activated turret activate and blast stinging bolts at those that were out in the open as they turn the corner. Good thing I brought snacks.

After a more than an hour of watching some successes amidst a lot of failures with a couple of really daring initiates manage to get 4 shells and get back to the room in time. Granted, they are currently gulping air like a fish out of water but they did make it. Gradually the rest start to trickle in and those that were late did get tied up while those that completed their objectives get to eat the lunch I had prepared (borrowed Republic rations from the Republic outpost).

They'll have to prepare their own meal, fortunately the pre-packaged meal came with instructions in basic. It is a minced artificial meat in a sauce as a main dish, with sides of crackers, a bread wrap, spreadable cheese and other accessories like salt and moist towelettes. The caf and artificial fruit punch that usually came with this have been taken out. Once I tied up all of the initiates that finished after noon I stood in front of them all with my own pre-packaged meal next to me. The meat sauce on top of the bread wrap and getting a generous helping of cheese and crackers sprinkled in for that extra crunch is really good. I wouldn't mind eating this for several days. The initiates that made it in time looked at my meal while they wait for their meal to heat up in its pouch.

"Now those of you who were late, can have your lunch once you manage to break free of your bindings. So long as you are free, you can have lunch like the rest of us." With my piece said those that were tied up try to break their bindings on their own. With them busy I continue with a lesson.

"We are going to keep doing this race until you all manage to get here within a time frame I deem acceptable, with each race getting harder and harder as I introduce newer challenges for you to circumvent and overcome. Fortunately for you, you can prepare for this test however you like, memorizing the layout of the temple, learning to lockpick the doors, store hidden supplies along the route, etc. so long as each of you have 4 of these Lightsaber shells when you return." I can see those gears turning in a lot of the kids heads. "Don't even think about cheating with fakes, I'll know. With that said, those that pass can dig in, I'll come back in half an hour to untie the rest of you, if you managed to get untied before I come back, good job you can go ahead and eat your lunch."

As I exit to the next room, I opened the feed to the hidden camera I planted in the room. The initiates that were tied up are trying to untie themselves while those that weren't were eating their lunch. There is an underlying lesson that few people manage to learn as I like to layer my lessons. Why teach 1 lesson when 2 can be taught at the same time.

The 1st and most obvious lesson is to stay vigilant, just because you are surrounded by allies, doesn't mean that you are safe as the traps and turret demonstrated. The 2nd lesson is to learn how to surpass your biological limitations and push yourself further than you yourself have thought possible. The mind is a strange yet powerful part of an person's body, with the right motivation it can force the body to go beyond what it can normally do, Mind over Matter. This lesson is taught by the threat of going hungry, the initiates that grew up hungry knows what that is like and thus command their bodies to push on forward until the finish line. The 3rd lesson is teamwork, 2 heads are better than one. The initiates that were free could have untied them once I left the room if they so choose. I did not forbid them to do that. Even if everyone is tied up they could work together to untie each other which is much easier than trying to untie themselves. The 4th and last lesson is to look underneath the underneath, not everything is as it appears to be (case in point, this lesson itself is not just a physical test, but a mental test too). Many minor lessons include negotiation (convincing those that were free to help untie them), escape artistry (getting out of bindings), awareness of their surrounding (which areas are excellent places for an ambush and which areas are safe), and etc. This will be the 1st time I used this multi-lesson training method and if this is successful I could fit 4 tests in 1 session and that means less work for me to do in the long run. Now all I have to do is relax.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: I initially got this idea when I read that Atton will also train the initiates in combat. That plot bunny won't leave me alone so I started writing this. I used the KOTOR map of the Dantooine sublevel as the place where the race is held with Atton placing traps and blocking routes for this lesson. I am not sure if anyone else is using the sublevel though so let me know if Atton can't just use the entire sublevel for an hour.
 
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Dar'Manda
[O] Dar'Manda: The Mandalorians kidnapped many children from the Republic, a great number of whom would like to return to whatever is left of their homes-- some of them are Force sensitive. (Recruit 1D5 Dar'Manda Jedi)

I cast my vote! Time to get us some ex-Mando's!
Dar'manda

The walls are silent, the city sleeps. Visas has come to do what Meetra has taught her, to bring justice, to avenge what is not right. The Republic has, unfortunately, posted guards outside of her door-- not good enough to keep the really determined from attacking her, but good enough that she'll feel bad when they are attacked.

Right now, for example. She heard armored boots sliding on the carpet, too quick for her to warn-- and by the time she has moved, they are already on the floor, forms ragged-- and she cannot tell if they are breathing.

Twin lightsabers flash to life in her hands, two yellow blades. She sees her assailant in the light they cast. Clad in Mandalorian armor, his helmet reflects everything-- but he has no weapon.

"You threaten the security of millions, Mandalorian. Explain yourself."

"I am known as Jori Fett. But that is not my name." There is an odd disturbance to his voice. "My name is Atias. I was born on the world of Darnar VII, a victim to the Mandalorian Crusades." He takes off his helmet, revealing a young face and shaggy, fiery red hair, descending past his shoulders. He kneels to her, bows his head. "I am the last of them I think. And I have come to learn at your feet."
(+1 Jedi Initate)
--
Sorry that it's so short.
 
Mission Report 3947 BBY Q1
Mission Report 3947 BBY Q1

Mission 1 (Master Brianna, Master Juhani, and Padawan Breda, The Core)

-Padawan Breda-

(Personal log)
Damn it all! I knew this was going to happen. Sure, Master, I see how it is, I get my damn arm blown off and all of a sudden I'm stuck on these jumped up blue-milk runs when I should be out there, helping, really doing some good?

The worst part is, he knows we aren't going to find anything.

But that's alright. Because he sure doesn't know who I've been talking to.
--
Mission 2 (Grandmaster Bao-Dur, Master Atton Rand, Master Bastila Shan, Padawan Zez Kyridor, and Padawan Kador Shirote, The Mid-Rim)
-Padawan Kador Shirote-

Pretty basic protection detail this time. They aren't sending any of the good mercenaries at this point either, I assume because they don't anymore getting blown up or otherwise taken out. The greatest threat so far has been boredom, utterly and completely. I sort of wish they would attack, just so I'd have something to do at this point.

<Muffled voices in the background>

Yes, I'm sure.

...Oh, excuse me Master. The Captain keeps interrupting me while I'm trying to work. Not sure how she found me this time, though.
--
Mission 3 (Mira, Visas, Outer Rim)
-Councilor Mira-

So, Czerka is having a shareholder meeting--in Hutt Space. Trying to keep us from getting them, I guess, trying to keep us away with the Hutts as their shield. I suppose they didn't hear what happened on Nar Shadda, then?

Admittedly, they'll still be hard to find in this little corner of hell and I don't plan to stick around any longer than seventy-two hours...but that's more than enough time to find them and whatever little rat hole they're hidden in. Visas can help too, I suppose.
--
Mission 1 (Master Brianna, Master Juhani, and Padawan Breda, The Core)
-Councilor Juhani-

That braying jackass!
We're over here trying to find important intelligence, and she runs off, leading us on a wild goose chase because she can't deal with being on the sidelines for a moment? What has Mical been teaching her?

I swear, when I get my hands on either of them, I'm going to pull their eyes out through their teeth.

"That's quite unnecessary, Master Juhani."

What- you! Care to explain...your... okay, who is that with you?

"So you might not believe it but I've been making friends."
--
Mission 2 (Grandmaster Bao-Dur, Master Atton Rand, Master Bastila Shan, Padawan Zez Kyridor, and Padawan Kador Shirote, The Mid-Rim)
-Councilor Atton Rand-

So, this is kind of awkward but...I uh, I appear to have lost track of my Padawan. I mean, I know he's not dead-- I can still feel him...but he's...tense? Lying a lot, that's for sure. Now, there are two situations that that might be the case in, and one of them is decidedly better than the other, but neither is great. This is not the time to be making googly eyes, at all.
--
Mission 3 (Mira, Visas, Outer Rim)
-Councilor Mira-

Can I amend that earlier statement a little? Don't get me wrong, we arrested them pretty easily-- it's getting out that looks like it could be a problem. That's a lot of bounty hunters to try and escape, even for Visas and I-- at least five freighters worth. The only good news so far is they can't shoot at us right now.

[Recording degrades, brief explosion and sounds of the ship shaking]

Never mind.
--
Mission 1 (Master Brianna, Master Juhani, and Padawan Breda, The Core)
-Padawan Breda -

Master Bao-Dur, may it please you to make the acquaintance of Akila Qel-Droma, formerly of Hutt and Czerka employ?

She doesn't know that much about what her former employers are planning, but given the circumstances, I'd count this as a win.
(Akila Qel-Droma recruited)
--
Mission 2 (Grandmaster Bao-Dur, Master Atton Rand, Master Bastila Shan, Padawan Zez Kyridor, and Padawan Kador Shirote, The Mid-Rim)
-Padawan Kador-

Everything's under control, situation normal. Had a slight weapon malfunction but uh, everything's perfectly alright now. We're fine, we're all fine here, now, thank you. How are you?

"We're sending Zez up."

(+5 PP)
--
Mission 3 (Mira, Visas, Outer Rim)
-Councilor Mira-

Turns out a crummy blaster and thirst for credits is no match for the Force at your back. We've made it back to Republic Space, and have turned that Exec Board over into Republic custody, where they are all too happy to turn on the people who tried to kill them.
(-10% Czerka Morale, +10 PP)
--
Sorry it's short, had to do it on Kindle
 
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