Star Wars: Jedi Academy(IC/Closed)

[Theyra]

-| Star Wars: Jedi Academy |-

---

OOC

Five years. Much has changed in such a short amount of time. The Empire has fractured, an echo resigned now to the Outer Rim, and in its place the New Republic seeks to rebuild from the ashes of war. The path ahead is difficult and the galaxy has yet to heal, has yet to forget, but a beacon of hope remains lit, shining bright against the darkness that for so long had reigned unchecked in its power. Luke Skywalker, hero of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, has journeyed for many days, many months, many years and with him those who would take upon themselves the mantle as guardians of the Light.

The New Jedi Order.

From these simple beginnings come a new hope, a new responsibility, and as the galaxy rebuilds in the aftermath of war so, too, does Luke Skywalker and his Jedi Knights. On the remote planet of D'Qar the Jedi Academy is established and its students trained in the ways of the Force. Now, after much teaching, the young Jedi are ready to set forth into a troubled and turbulent galaxy.

Much has changed in these five years but one simple fact remains: darkness lurks in the shadows. The Jedi will face many trials, many tribulations, and although untested the fate of the galaxy, the fate of the Force, will rest squarely upon their shoulders.

That is their destiny to face.

Now, the Jedi are resting at their academy on D'Qar and soon the start of the beginning of their journey to see if the young Jedi can handle their destiny.

[Ceannairceach]

Cori Cato
Jedi Academy
D'Qar, Ileenium

---

A young woman sat cross-legged on the floor of her room, eyes closed. At her feet lay a long, metallic object, open at both ends: a lightsaber, twin-bladed, inactive and yet humming imperceptibly with latent energy. The woman seemed transfixed upon it, though her eyes never opened. Still, she could see it, as clearly as one might see a sun hanging overhead, and she felt it, the power of the crystal reaching out, grasping for something to hold on to in the physical world.

She could see herself, standing in absolute darkness, inexplicably made clear by the light cast from her own being. It reminded her of her past. Was it the cargo compartment in which she spent days in as a young girl? Or the solitary chamber that Caddus would throw her in at the smallest hint of disobedience? Perhaps it was the cave on that nameless moon. It was all of these things, and none of them: cold, yet with an intensity that made sweat fall from her brow and streek down the canyons of her face, a torrential tsunami of exertion, made in the utmost of calm.

She heard something. A sound, quiet, yet close, as if spoken behind her ear. She saw herself turn, as if to find it standing there, but was left wanting: there was nothing there, nothing everywhere. She felt alone, and suddenly, afraid. Was something in the darkness with her? She could not tell. All she could see was herself, quivering in the darkness like a scared, desperate little girl.

Suddenly, a light in the distance. Faint, yet growing, and closing the distance between them. Without hesitation, she sprinted towards it, bridging the gap ever quicker as she picked up speed. When she could just start to make out the form in which the light had taken, she felt a sudden surge of hope: a sentient, her size, running for her as quickly as she to him. She could not see his face, but she knew, in her heart, that he was a friend. That he knew what laid in the darkness that surrounded her.

And then she saw herself begin to slow.

A darkness had gripped her. Something of great strength, with powers immutable, seized her by the legs, and attempted to pull her down. She did not relent, did not give in, but it refused to release her from its snare. Slowly, inevitably, she began to slip in to the darkness beneath her as if it were water, the resistance refusing her the speed she so desperately craved. Eventually, her knees slipped beneath its waves, and she saw herself begin to scream.

The light was close. Close enough to save her, if given a moment. And yet, she saw herself reach instinctively for the belt at her waist, for the saber that always hung there. When she felt nothing, she saw herself stare out into the nothing, straight in to her own eyes, and gasp.

Cori left her meditation with a gasp for breath, heaving in and out nearly to the point of nausea. She reached out with her hand to grip the lightsaber that lay there, and to her relief, felt that it was still at her feet. She picked it up, felt its weight in the air, as if to test that it was, in fact, real. Satisfied, she stood from the floor, and stretched her stiff limbs. Glancing at the terminal beside her bed, she saw the time: still the morning. Not as long as I thought, she said to herself as she returned the saber to its proper position.

She had been meditating, as Master Luke had instructed her to upon her arrival to the Academy. "Important to her development as a Jedi," he called it, "and as a person." She wasn't entirely convinced he was right about that. It went as it usually did, whenever she wandered her thoughts aimlessly: terrifying darkness, a light, a predictable failure. She wasn't sure what it meant, though the thought of bringing it up to the Jedi around her was less appealing than simply struggling through it: the knights, though knowledgeable, seemed ever on watch for signs of the dark side. The prospect of falling terrified Cori, being one so "intimate" with it, as the Republic prosecutors had argued. She could only barely grasp why Luke and the other Jedi had put so much faith in her to begin with, and for all its peculiarities, she did not want anything to threaten her new life with them.

"Maybe next time'll be better," she said optimistically, as she pulled on her jacket. It was a black thing with military style, Imperial civilian issue, likely surplus from the war, a perhaps insulting gift from the Republic to their former prisoner. Her outfit was simple, a product of her former captivity: basic working pants, tough boots, and a white shirt. The only modification she requested was the simple belt with pouches and a clip loop for her saber. One might mistake her for an Imperial soldier on shore leave, were it not for her lack of rank symbols.

She looked at her face in the mirror above her small desk. She wore no makeup: with the face she wore, she saw no need to hide any other blemishes that presented themselves. A series of scars formed cracks across her otherwise smooth face, the largest of which was like a ravine, stretching from her forehead to her right cheek, crossing just between her eyes and across the bridge of her nose before it found its home. Other similar scars surrounded it at various points, the unfortunate result of smashing one's head through a TIE's viewport. She touched it with her index finger: repairative surgery had done much to "fill in" the center of the scar, but the damage was done, and the Republic was not of a mind to pay for bacta treatment for something so cosmetic. It was of no matter any longer: her scars were warranted, she believed, as penance for the crimes she committed. If they were all she had to endure as punishment, she was getting off easy.

Pressing a button beside it, the door to her small quarters slipped open, and she was greeted by the hallway of the dormitory. She noted that the panel inside the quarters was different from the one in the corridor: she had recalled the Jedi mentioning that when the Republic was negotiating her release to them, a condition was that she be under "close supervision and watchful guard." Apparently the Republic was concerned that a former Imperial would be more likely to fall to the dark side if left unchecked, and they had installed a lock on the outside when constructing Luke's new temple. She smiled, thankful that it seemed her trusted her enough to give her control over it from the inside.

Free from her prison, both mental and literal, she wandered through the corridors of the Academy, taking in its architecture again. Nothing about it was like what she imagined a Jedi temple to be: she had seen holovids of the temple on Coruscant in its prime, and marveled at its grandeur. In comparison, the D'Qar academy was a hovel, though certainly more impressive than many of the places Cori had been in her travels, and in time, she hoped that she would come to know it as a home. Certainly beats the Remorseless, she thought, Least it's got that going for it.

After some time, she found herself in the central courtyard of the Academy. It seemed she was the first one to wake, as no students nor masters could be seen, nor could she feel them around her. "Well," she said to no one, "looks like my sleep's another casualty of the Empire." Not willing to simply return to bed, only to be stirred by an impatient Jedi later, she unclipped the saber from her belt and held it in front of her with both hands.

Johoro's saber was a strange thing, unlike some of the other twin-bladed sabers she had seen around the temple. It was smooth, save for the places where the casing could be removed and the activation device jutted out, with curves that marked the grips. It was obviously a weapon constructed with great care, and yet, the small dents and scratches spoke of a lifetime of use. Most notable, however, was the cracks at the "bottom" end: one emitter lens was smashed, caved in and destroyed to the point of uselessness. In effect, it was simply a large, one-bladed saber, and that was how Cori used it.

She gripped it with one hand towards the top, and another at the bottom, like a massive ax. With a quick movement of her finger, the blade flickered to life with the crackle of energy, and she gave it an experimental slash. After all the practice she had with the weapon, its lack of weight still felt alien to her: nothing like the blasters she had used in her service to the Empire. It would take some time before she was used to the fluidity of the saber, though already she felt as if it were an extension of her arm, a part of her, in many ways.

Centering herself in the courtyard, she began her practice, cutting and stabbing at the air, the green blade humming with each imaginary opponent felled. Every so often, a low strike would drag against the floor of the courtyard, joining its brethren, the scars of many training duels. It was something she worked to correct each time, keeping the blade a little higher, striking a little wider, working out the kinks in her technique.

As sweat began to form on her forehead, she lowered the saber, clicking off the blade with a sigh of exertion. Producing a tie from her pocket, she proceeded to pull her hair pack into a loose tail, and once secured, reignited the saber, assuming her stance once more. "Y'know," she said aloud, hoping there were ears to hear her, "This would be a lot more useful if there were someone to spar with that couldn't just kick my ass in a minute." When no answer came, she shrugged, and resumed to spar against the enemies she conjured in her head.

[Tayner]

Tillisk'Torr'Vih
Courtyard, Jedi Academy
D'Qar

Torr had been meditating in the courtyard for some time, his normal sleeping schedule proving incompatible with this planet's rotation. He solved the issue by meditating in the mornings and evenings, often trying to see things he could not see, and finding nothing. Some days he would find himself seeing nothing more than the back of his eyelids, but on rare occasions he would see places in the galaxy. Places he'd been, places he'd go. From moons and asteroid feilds in the outer rim to garden planets he couldn't name, he'd explore through the force, see things that no scanner or instrument a spaceship had could show him.

He'd see life and death. Hope and despair. Harmony and destruction. Compassion and hatred. He'd see the people in his eyes, feel the temperatures on his skin, the sounds echoing in his ears. Today he was at Jakku, the desert sand brushing past him as he looked at the sky, mighty warships above duking it out. In front of him he could only see blasters firing, and when he blinked all he saw was wreckage. Corpses of massive war machines casting shadows on skeletons still in their armor. He could see the effects of war, the reasons he had to work for peace and the light side.

He had hope.

His eyes opened as he took in the morning sun, just breaking the horizon. Birds were starting to tweet, and one even landed on Torr's shoulder. He smiled, content, clearing his mind and happy to start the day. It wasn't long before another padawan, in fact, his fellow apprentice under Knight Cialle, entered the room. Cori took her lightsaber off of her belt and inspected it, before she activated the damaged saber and began to practice dueling against imaginary opponents. When she struck the ground the bird on Torr's shoulder got scarred and departed, it's blue wings spreading as it dove away into the air.

"Y'know, this would be a lot more useful if there were someone to spar with that couldn't just kick my ass in a minute." She said aloud as if she sensed him there. He slid out of the tree, falling to the ground before landing smoothly, making no attempt to conceal himself.

"I mean, I can probably kick your ass, but it'd take about a minute and a half." He jokingly taunted, drawing his lightsaber but not activating it. "If you're interested."

[Elerian]

Mala Rar, D'Qar Jedi Temple

The Jedi were still shattered, the Sith Order was shattered, and it seemed like everyone else these days was merely looking to grab their piece of the pie. The New Republic was working tirelessly to return some semblance of stability to the Galaxy and the Imperials were completely absorbed with their own tiny kingdoms. Splintered and weak, but unwilling to admit it. At least the Republic had embraced what they were.

It had been an odd time for Mala since Tatooine. With her old master having been killed by Luke, she had experienced a period of directionlessness that even now seemed to continue. Sure, doing the odd task for Luke and training her Padawans kept her days busy, but there had to be something more than that. She had been a Dark Side Acolyte before and riding the tailcoats to success, now she was floundering and didn't like it.

So, while she kept herself thinking about what came next, she kept her body busy by pushing her Padawan’s to their limit, honing her own skills, and trying out Jedi meditations with limited success. She'd come to D’Qar to try and find herself, but she was still just as lost as she’d always been. The fact that she was stuck in the isolated temple much of the time did little to help her troubled mind.

Like many of the students and staff at the Temple, Mala was an earlier riser. Likely not for the same reasons as many of the others, but she awoke with the sun and set about her daily regimine. Typically that meant her Padawans would have to rise with her and set about their training for the day, but today was not one of those days. They were set to go off-world soon, and before they left Mala wanted her brood to be well rested. Despite this, Mala had still risen at her usual time and went for a run in the hills beyond the Temple Compound.

By the time she got back, some of the students were already awake and beginning their training in the Courtyard. She respected their tenacity, and while there was much to do today, she decided to stop and watch them. It wasn’t difficult to recognize them as Cori and Torr, the padawans of Cialle Che'Kerail, since the Temple was hardly teeming with new initiates. Mala walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, obviously keen to watch the two duel.

[Beiarusia]

Linea - D'Qar

She was running. The world an abyss of total blackness, creeping, like cold tendrils, the splash of a shallow pool and the haggard rasp of enfeebled lungs starved of oxygen. Whispers, soft yet incredibly loud, pleading, begging, a turbulent flood roiling like a storm raging underneath a troubled surface. Angry. Despairing. Fearful. The girl was running, faster now, the hushed tones a haunting chorus. Evocative. An abyss. A reflection that cut deep. Twisting forms emerged from the darkness. A forest, vast, dying, and in the flickering distance the ruins of what once had been civilization. Gravestones and echoes. Faster and faster and faster and faster. The girl staggers and falls, rolling once, twice, broken where she lies on her back with tears blurring her vision, alone, just herself-

-and the darkness eating inside.

Linea awakes with a start. She is on the floor, in her room, hopelessly tangled in the bedsheets like a bug caught in a spider's web. She struggles for a moment against her bindings, squirms free, and then sits with her back against the side of the bed, half-asleep, and clearing her mind of the unpleasant dream. The nightmare. Master Luke believes it to be the manifestation of something more, an internal struggle, and had advised his troublesome apprentice to meditate so as to find understanding.

She would much rather forget if at all possible.

Yawning, Linea considers going back to bed, is very much tempted to do so actually, but the promise of a warm breakfast proves too enticing a treat to ignore. She quickly gets changed, choosing for today a dark-coloured tunic with beige pants and simple boots, and then gives herself a once-over in the long mirror hanging on the wall by the door. A thin girl with blue-grey skin and long auburn hair stares back. With an acceptable nod she opens the door to leave, pauses mid-stride, hurries back inside to grab her training lightsaber, and then continues out while clipping the tool to her belt. She's not paying attention and runs squarely into a solid mass of fur. Tarryyn, the Wookiee Jedi who oversaw the Younglings at the Academy. He grumbles in his native tongue, but Linea, not understanding Shyriiwook, can only guess at what he is saying but figures it was something along the lines of telling her to be careful. She offers a small apology before continuing on; the Wookiee calls out with another bellow but is ignored.

The girl stumbles out of the eastern dormitory and follows the southern edge of the main building around to the central courtyard, expecting to find the area deserted, so is surprised to see two Apprentices facing one another as if to spar with a Knight observing. Linea frowned upon recognizing them. She held no animosity against Torr, the blue-skinned Chiss, but the others, the human Apprentice and the Twi'lek Knight, they were Imperials and deserving of her distrust.

Still, Linea was nothing but curious and so remained to witness the match. With luck Torr would win.

[Luminesa]

Jeweuhl - D’Qar Jedi Academy

Jeweuhl’s meditations were always strange.

Being a Miraluka, he could not see normal shapes and colors. He could only see the Force, and so in his visions the Force was all he saw. He saw various lights swirling and dancing in his mind, the energy of a universe gathering and bursting behind his eyelids. The light-show, almost like fireworks, was beautiful. However, he did not merely meditate to look at pretty colors. These streaks of colorful light were information. A sort of mental library, in which he sorted what was useful to him and what was not useful.

...Inner peace...it is here...deep in the confines of my own mind...of my own soul...

His eyelids trembled, as he concentrated deeply. He clenched his knees, as he sat cross-legged on his bed. To someone who might have entered his bedroom, he would have appeared as a sort of ghoul or a banshee. Dressed entirely in a black cloak and veil, his pale body was wrapped as though he was attending his own funeral. Yet this morbid dress was one of the things that allowed him to meditate: mortification, and abandoning worldly concerns, such as how he appeared to others.

...I can grasp it...I just need to...reach a little more...

Almost as though he had been summoned out of his body, he felt himself floating through his vision. Colors passed him, glowing across his sightless eyes. He grit his teeth. Some figure was within this sea of darkness and light. He felt them. In his mind, he thrust his arm forward, toward the shadow. They recognized him, and reached back...

But with no success.

Jeweuhl suddenly forced himself out of his vision with a soft gasp, and shuddered as he came back to reality. Because he could not see, he felt around him to make sure that his surroundings had not changed. His warm blanket, his soft veil, his wool cloak...he passed them all between his panicked fingers before exhaling. “...Everything is fine...just another failed vision...Perhaps I was...trying too hard this time?” he muttered to himself. He decided that some fresh air might help him think more clearly, and so he hopped out of bed and put on his shoes. He also grabbed his Saber. He never knew when he would need it, after all.

He walked outside without a word, and observed the Force as it made itself into the shapes of his classmates and of the courtyard around them. He noticed another Apprentice nearby, and approached her. Jeweuhl still had trouble associating with others, but at the very least he was willing to try and converse. “...Good morning,” he greeted Linea.

[Ceannairceach]

Cori Cato
Jedi Academy
D'Qar, Ileenium

---

"I mean, I can probably kick your ass, but it'd take about a minute and a half."

Cori completed a turn on her heel and returned her saber to a resting position, held low and pointed safely towards the sky. She saw standing there, at the edge of her training space: Torr, her fellow apprentice in training under the Jedi Knight Cialle Che'Kerail. By any estimation, and especially Cori's, he did not resemble a Jedi student, nearly twice her age, almost as old as their master, and as foreign a species as they come, one of the few that Cori had never encountered in her service to the Empire.

But they shared much in common, in a roundabout way. Both were veterans of the Civil War, and both bore scars from it. Though she hated to admitting to it, she noticed the burns he wore on his neck before his blue skin. She wondered, at first, if perhaps Luke had been punishing her when she was paired with him. After all, why else would a former Imperial be partnered with an experienced Rebel, with every reason to hate her for her crimes?

And yet, he exceeded her every expectation, providing her with limitless shame for assuming so low of him. Though he seemed reserved, to her, he was never cruel, and for Cori, that was enough to consider someone a friend when she had so few.

She cracked a smile and gave her saber an experimental twirl at her side, he blade carving a shallow gash into the stone below. "Minute and a half, huh?" When the blade returned to its upright position, she released her grip on it, and allowed it to float there in the air as she shrugged off her jacket. "I'll take that bet." Once off, she grabbed both sleeves and pulled them around her waist, tying them at her stomach. Once secure, she held out plucked her saber from the air, and pointed it in Torr's direction.

She glanced around their fighting ring, and saw that the population had doubled. "Seems we've got an audience," she said, nodding in their direction: the Jedi Knight Mala Rar, a teacher at the Academy, had taken a seat on a nearby bench, and seemed intent on watching the two students fight. More important to Cori, however, was the presence of Linea, Luke's personal apprentice. Cori's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of her: the animosity between them, no matter how subdued, was not a secret, nor was her distaste for Imperials, former or otherwise.

Still, Cori did not blame her. She knew what it was like to hate, and even if she didn't know it, hatred of Imperials was something they shared, though perhaps Cori's hatred was more concentrated.

She returned her attention to Torr, and tilted her head to the side. "Alright, standard rules? Fight to disarm, subdue, so on?" She pulled her blade up to her face, holding it horizontally such that it was parallel to her ear. "But I hope you know if I last two minutes, I'm claiming victory." She assumed a combat stance, feet spaced wide, one a stride ahead of the other. "Let's go, rebel scum," she joked, and with a sudden leap forward, she began her charge, blade ready to stab towards his center.

[Tayner]

Tillisk'Tor'Vih
Courtyard, Jedi Academy
D'Qar

Cori wasn't unlike Torr, another soldier of the Civil War who fought and bleed for their side, a survivor of the conflict who wore their scars without shame. Cori was just on the other side of the war, but that mattered little now. Holding grudges wasn't the Jedi way, even when he was an initiate that value was drilled into his skull. What mattered now was that they were both on the same side now, and when it came down to it, all they could depend on in the field would be the other's skill.

And Torr felt like testing his skill just as much as hers.

"Minute and a half, huh? I'll take that bet." She joked.

"I'm not one for gambling, but I do like the odds." Torr replied, clipping his lightsaber to his belt before taking his brown cloak and casting it aside, revealing a dark brown tunic with lighter brown trousers. He stretched his arms and back a little before noticing what Cori also seemed to notice, an audience forming.

"Seems we've got an audience." She said, nodding over to those gathering. Two other initiates, Jeweuhl and Linea, as well as a Knight, Mala Rar, had decided to watch the duel. It probably wouldn't be long before more spectators joined, or other initiates started their own duels. Torr simply shrugged, a neutral expression on his face as finished stretching.

"I always wondered why this wasn't a spectator sport." He remarked before Cori went over the rules, the standard stuff. No dismemberment would occur today, sadly, Torr jokingly lamented to himself. She set a two minute time limit on the duel, but he doubted anyone brought a stopwatch. Instead they would have to rely on their internal perception of time, something that never really aligned completely between two individuals. He decided not to dwell on the thought and to trust her to keep time as he started to focus in preparation of the duel.

"Let's go, rebel scum." She said, jokingly, and with that Torr activated his lightsaber, taking up a defensive stance, the green blade parallel with the ground and perpendicular with his chest as he pointed his shoulder to his opponent. He started to walk to his right in a slightly curved path, and she did the same keeping herself directly in front of him. This didn't last for long.

"You first, imperial dog." He responded in kind, and suddenly she lunged for him. Torr parried the attack and stepped aside as she passed him. Cori spun around on her heels just in time to deflect a wide swing from Torr, but it didn't stop there. Torr swung his lightsaber again and again, forcing Cori on the defensive for now, until became apparent that she wouldn't wear down, at least not faster than himself. After a few more swings Torr relented, taking a few steps back and resuming his circling movement, this time his lightsaber held squarely in front of him as he prepared to defend himself from Cori's next attack.

[Ceannairceach]

Cori Cato
Jedi Academy
D'Qar, Ileenium

---

Cori let out several quick breaths as she composed herself, feet planted firmly into the ground. She examined her opponent rigorously, examining his form for any signs of weakness, but uncovered none that she did not exhibit herself in spades: it was apparent in the wild and aggressive way he swung his saber that he too lacked formal training, and Cori could not help but note that had she more practice in sparring, it was a weakness that could be exploited, in herself as well as in him.

How to best someone twice her age, twice her size, and, little difference though it might make, twice the skill?

She had no time to consider this for very long, for although his attack had relented in favor of a defensive posture, only a fool would believe that the threat had ended. Even motionless, a Jedi was a weapon unto itself, one not to be underestimated. Without further delay, she was forced to press the attack.

She crossed the distance between them in an instant, her saber held wide in preparation for a slash. As she approached him, he side-stepped, catching her blade with his as she passed by him for the second time since their fight began. It frustrated her to no end, the quickness with which he predicted her movements, and she drew her saber back for another strike. Her cybernetic foot danced to life as she put her whole weight on it, spinning on its gyroscopic ankle, leaving it otherwise firmly planted into the ground. As she came around, she struck at him again with the full force of her momentum, forcing him to break his stance to hold off her blade.

Smiling, she pushed in to the attack, locking their sabers together, faces inches apart. "That's a minute, Torr." Another push sent him another step back. "Getting tired yet?" Pulling her saber back, she raised it high, hoping a final, powerful blow would be enough to disarm her opponent.

[Jikken]

Jasird

---

Time never seemed to move consistently anymore for the orphan Codru-Ji. He still wasn't over the death of his family, it was an image that would be forever scarred in the young Codru-ji's mind. He sighed, walking around the Jedi Academy which he now called home, one of his four hands never too far from the training lightsaber that was given to him when he was enrolled. Jasird had hoped that a walk through the forest would clear his head, that the fresh air would help him to calm his nerves.

As he walked Jasird came across two Padawan's sparring. Sighing, he leaned against a nearby wall, deciding to watching and see what he could learn from watching his peers. He crossed his arms and smirked, watching to see what would happen. Looking around, he noticed two others watching the fight.

[Wheatley Laboratories]

Xi

Xi woke, as always, lying in a puddle of his own sweat.
The former slave let out a sigh, one of the few sounds he could actually make with his mouth, in irritation. What he would give to be able to wake up not drenched in sweat... One time, that's all he wanted. One. Time.
Naked, he climbed to his feet, standing beside his bedding and stretched, yawning. His sensitive ears picking up the sounds of his fellow padawans awakening, Xi attempted to freshen himself up and remove the scent of sweat from his fur, suceeding somewhat.
He smelt constantly and always felt subconcious about it, worrying that his training partner would not want to approach most days. Just because he couldn't smell himself didn't mean they couldn't...
However, their sense of smell was significantly weaker than his, but Xi often forgot.

Sighing once again, Xi put his one piece of clothing on, a simple pair of trousers. He preffered to go bare-chested, which made his scars visible, but also just felt more comfortable then the robes that most of the padawans wore.
He grabbed his lightsabers- Xi had chosen to duel wield the weapons when the padawans recived their sabers- and hung them on the sides of his trousers.
After he practised picking them up and putting them back a few times, he was teaching himself how to be lightning-fast unholstering and holstering the sabers, he decided to head outside. He could hear some of the padawans leaving now and guessed there was something going on outside.

Leaving his room, the mute walked slowly down the corridor, to the doors leading outside, hesitaiting for a moment before pushing the doors open. As soon as he left, Xi stopped feeling "uncomfortably warm", going straight to "overwelmingly hot". He wished he could say he had adjusted to the heat, but that would be a lie. Even getting his, previously long, fur cut hadn't helped much, so he'd simply learnt to ignore the climate.
Xi gazed around the courtyard, looking at the two students duelling and the growing crowd of spectators. He also noticed Jeweuhl, his padawan partner, and smiled. Jeweuhl... Was the only person here Xi actually trusted. He'd listen to the masters as they taught, but the other padawans weren't so lucky. He knew he probably appeared unapproachable to some, but he didn't really mind. It was hard enough to talk to Jeweuhl and the Jedi assigned to them, much less five people!

Xi tapped Jeweuhl's shoulder three times, his way of letting his friend know he was around from behind, and grabbed his lightsabers. He used them as his main method of 'talking' to Jeweuhl, typically pointing the blades in certain directions to show his fellow padawan what he wanted to say.

[Luminesa]

Xi

Xi woke, as always, lying in a puddle of his own sweat.
The former slave let out a sigh, one of the few sounds he could actually make with his mouth, in irritation. What he would give to be able to wake up not drenched in sweat... One time, that's all he wanted. One. Time.
Naked, he climbed to his feet, standing beside his bedding and stretched, yawning. His sensitive ears picking up the sounds of his fellow padawans awakening, Xi attempted to freshen himself up and remove the scent of sweat from his fur, suceeding somewhat.
He smelt constantly and always felt subconcious about it, worrying that his training partner would not want to approach most days. Just because he couldn't smell himself didn't mean they couldn't...
However, their sense of smell was significantly weaker than his, but Xi often forgot.

Sighing once again, Xi put his one piece of clothing on, a simple pair of trousers. He preffered to go bare-chested, which made his scars visible, but also just felt more comfortable then the robes that most of the padawans wore.
He grabbed his lightsabers- Xi had chosen to duel wield the weapons when the padawans recived their sabers- and hung them on the sides of his trousers.
After he practised picking them up and putting them back a few times, he was teaching himself how to be lightning-fast unholstering and holstering the sabers, he decided to head outside. He could hear some of the padawans leaving now and guessed there was something going on outside.

Leaving his room, the mute walked slowly down the corridor, to the doors leading outside, hesitaiting for a moment before pushing the doors open. As soon as he left, Xi stopped feeling "uncomfortably warm", going straight to "overwelmingly hot". He wished he could say he had adjusted to the heat, but that would be a lie. Even getting his, previously long, fur cut hadn't helped much, so he'd simply learnt to ignore the climate.
Xi gazed around the courtyard, looking at the two students duelling and the growing crowd of spectators. He also noticed Jeweuhl, his padawan partner, and smiled. Jeweuhl... Was the only person here Xi actually trusted. He'd listen to the masters as they taught, but the other padawans weren't so lucky. He knew he probably appeared unapproachable to some, but he didn't really mind. It was hard enough to talk to Jeweuhl and the Jedi assigned to them, much less five people!

Xi tapped Jeweuhl's shoulder three times, his way of letting his friend know he was around from behind, and grabbed his lightsabers. He used them as his main method of 'talking' to Jeweuhl, typically pointing the blades in certain directions to show his fellow padawan what he wanted to say.

Three taps on the shoulder. Jeweuhl understood that Xi was trying to communicate with him, as he made a mental note of one of their many shared greetings. He turned his head, though he obviously could not see his enormous partner. They made a rather odd pair. Xi was almost seven feet tall and wolf-like, whereas Jeweuhl was just about five-foot-six and was almost ghost-like in appearance. Yet they got along well, and seemed to have an unspoken understanding toward each other, despite their obvious difficulties in communication. Xi seemed much more relaxed around his fellow Padawan, and vice-versa. Anyway, Jeweuhl was not very impressed with the trash-talking between the two duelists, and so ignored them as he nodded to his companion. "Hello, Xi. A good morning to you. Did you sleep well?" he greeted him softly.

[Wheatley Laboratories]

Xi

Xi woke, as always, lying in a puddle of his own sweat.
The former slave let out a sigh, one of the few sounds he could actually make with his mouth, in irritation. What he would give to be able to wake up not drenched in sweat... One time, that's all he wanted. One. Time.
Naked, he climbed to his feet, standing beside his bedding and stretched, yawning. His sensitive ears picking up the sounds of his fellow padawans awakening, Xi attempted to freshen himself up and remove the scent of sweat from his fur, suceeding somewhat.
He smelt constantly and always felt subconcious about it, worrying that his training partner would not want to approach most days. Just because he couldn't smell himself didn't mean they couldn't...
However, their sense of smell was significantly weaker than his, but Xi often forgot.

Sighing once again, Xi put his one piece of clothing on, a simple pair of trousers. He preffered to go bare-chested, which made his scars visible, but also just felt more comfortable then the robes that most of the padawans wore.
He grabbed his lightsabers- Xi had chosen to duel wield the weapons when the padawans recived their sabers- and hung them on the sides of his trousers.
After he practised picking them up and putting them back a few times, he was teaching himself how to be lightning-fast unholstering and holstering the sabers, he decided to head outside. He could hear some of the padawans leaving now and guessed there was something going on outside.

Leaving his room, the mute walked slowly down the corridor, to the doors leading outside, hesitaiting for a moment before pushing the doors open. As soon as he left, Xi stopped feeling "uncomfortably warm", going straight to "overwelmingly hot". He wished he could say he had adjusted to the heat, but that would be a lie. Even getting his, previously long, fur cut hadn't helped much, so he'd simply learnt to ignore the climate.
Xi gazed around the courtyard, looking at the two students duelling and the growing crowd of spectators. He also noticed Jeweuhl, his padawan partner, and smiled. Jeweuhl... Was the only person here Xi actually trusted. He'd listen to the masters as they taught, but the other padawans weren't so lucky. He knew he probably appeared unapproachable to some, but he didn't really mind. It was hard enough to talk to Jeweuhl and the Jedi assigned to them, much less five people!

Xi tapped Jeweuhl's shoulder three times, his way of letting his friend know he was around from behind, and grabbed his lightsabers. He used them as his main method of 'talking' to Jeweuhl, typically pointing the blades in certain directions to show his fellow padawan what he wanted to say.

Three taps on the shoulder. Jeweuhl understood that Xi was trying to communicate with him, as he made a mental note of one of their many shared greetings. He turned his head, though he obviously could not see his enormous partner. They made a rather odd pair. Xi was almost seven feet tall and wolf-like, whereas Jeweuhl was just about five-foot-six and was almost ghost-like in appearance. Yet they got along well, and seemed to have an unspoken understanding toward each other, despite their obvious difficulties in communication. Xi seemed much more relaxed around his fellow Padawan, and vice-versa. Anyway, Jeweuhl was not very impressed with the trash-talking between the two duelists, and so ignored them as he nodded to his companion. "Hello, Xi. A good morning to you. Did you sleep well?" he greeted him softly.

Xi, looking down at his friend, nodded. He turned his head, curiously watching the duel. He didn't know the duelling padawans' names, but there wasn't much need to if he couldn't address them. He went mainly off of apperance now, it was easier to remember what people looked like than their names anyway.
There wasn't really anything else going on in the courtyard and Xi felt bored. He much preffered to do something, rather than watch somebody do something and, realising there was a decent bit of courtyard left, wondered if Jeweuhl would like to practise. But... He'd have to ask him, and that meant stringing a bunch of movements together which was confusing for them both. Still, Jeweuhl had an almost uncanny understanding of what Xi was trying to say normally, so maybe it'd be fine.

Xi tapped him three times on the shoulder to let him know he was going to "talk". Once he got Jeweuhl's attention, he cocked his head, to signal a question, before assuming a defensive pose without activaiting his sabers then pointed to Jeweuhl, hoping that had worked.

[Hothnia]

Kala Ferezmot

It had not been a good start of the day for Kala.

Already, she had dropped her light saber three times while pretending to spar, one time accidently cutting down the sapling of a tree. Kala picked herself back up off the ground and walked over to where he lightsaber lay, it's silver body gleaming tauntingly at Kala. Almost reluctantly, Kala bent down and picked it up, returning to the small clearing just outside the walls of the Jedi Academy.

Kala sighed and reassumed her battle stance. Why did she come here? To put it simply, she was much worse than all the other Padawans at using a lightsaber, and she didn't want to be seen. Why am I even here? I'll never be what they want me to be. With a bit of hesitation, Kala reignited her lightsaber and slowly shuffled her feet, pretending to move around a mock opponent. After a moment of silence, Kala lunged clumsily, her blade hitting the ground before she even reached her mock target.

Kala fell over, landing face first in the dust. Isnt that pleasant? I'm dead. The girl rolled herself over and faced the sky. Breathing heavily, she slowly stood up. Off in the distance were the sound of voices, likely the other Padawans. We didn't have any specified training yet, did we?

Kala shrugged and grabbed her lightsaber from its place on the ground. One more time, you'll certainly get it this time. She stood back up and reignited her lightsaber, it's blue blade humming in front of her. She swung it a few times at a fake opponent, before parrying a pretend strike to her head and right leg. This is good! Come on Kala, you can do it! Kala reared her hand back for an overhead strike.... and the saber slipped from her grip, flying backward into the grasses rimming her clearing.

Kala slumped over in defeat and slowly walked over to retrieve her Lightsaber. She reattached it to the belt of her almost completely white tunic, and sat down, cross legged. Sighing loudly Kala leaned back until she lying in the dust of the open clearing. Why am I here? Why did my Master sense something in me to bring me here? From what I can tell, I have no talent in their arts; I'm just....here, doing nothing useful. So why?

[Tayner]

Tillisk'Tor'Vih
Courtyard, Jedi Academy
D'Qar

Cori was quick to counterattack, and by sheer luck Torr managed to parry her as she lunged at him, again. However it wasn't that easy, she spun around as if he was on a swivel and swung her lightsaber swiftly and decisively, locking their blades together as each one tried to gain the advantage. Torr wasn't that lucky, and Cori forced him to break his stance to avoid being disarmed.

"That's a minute, Torr." She taunted as she forced him to stumble backwards. She prepared to give another heavy swing, rearing back her lightsaber. "Getting tired yet?" She taunted again, swinging her blade hard this time. Torr would be prepared this time, blocking her attack and the two entered another lightsaber lock. After a brief struggle Torr would repel the attack, sending Cori back a few steps.

"Tired? Never!" He taunted, swinging his blade widely again, and again, Cori being unable to hold her ground. Torr would push her back with the force, taking advantage of her open stance, and push her on her back. She would try to sit up, bringing up her lightsaber to defend herself, but Torr would give a last swing, striking her blade and sending it out of her hand, the weapon deactivating as it clattered across the ground. "I think that's time." He said, deactivating his own weapon and clipping it to he belt before holding out his hand to help her up.

[Luminesa]

Three taps on the shoulder. Jeweuhl understood that Xi was trying to communicate with him, as he made a mental note of one of their many shared greetings. He turned his head, though he obviously could not see his enormous partner. They made a rather odd pair. Xi was almost seven feet tall and wolf-like, whereas Jeweuhl was just about five-foot-six and was almost ghost-like in appearance. Yet they got along well, and seemed to have an unspoken understanding toward each other, despite their obvious difficulties in communication. Xi seemed much more relaxed around his fellow Padawan, and vice-versa. Anyway, Jeweuhl was not very impressed with the trash-talking between the two duelists, and so ignored them as he nodded to his companion. "Hello, Xi. A good morning to you. Did you sleep well?" he greeted him softly.

Xi, looking down at his friend, nodded. He turned his head, curiously watching the duel. He didn't know the duelling padawans' names, but there wasn't much need to if he couldn't address them. He went mainly off of apperance now, it was easier to remember what people looked like than their names anyway.
There wasn't really anything else going on in the courtyard and Xi felt bored. He much preffered to do something, rather than watch somebody do something and, realising there was a decent bit of courtyard left, wondered if Jeweuhl would like to practise. But... He'd have to ask him, and that meant stringing a bunch of movements together which was confusing for them both. Still, Jeweuhl had an almost uncanny understanding of what Xi was trying to say normally, so maybe it'd be fine.

Xi tapped him three times on the shoulder to let him know he was going to "talk". Once he got Jeweuhl's attention, he cocked his head, to signal a question, before assuming a defensive pose without activaiting his sabers then pointed to Jeweuhl, hoping that had worked.

Another three taps on the shoulder. Jeweuhl turned back toward Xi, understanding that he wanted to continue “speaking”. He focused on his movements. Apparently Xi wanted to ask him about something, potentially about the battle in front of them. Yet then he got into a defensive stance, as though he was going to try and parry an oncoming attack. Jeweuhl was momentarily confused. He scanned Xi’s motions for any signs of fear or trepidation, but he did not sense anything that indicates his partner was afraid. Focusing on the parrying stance, he inquired, “...Do you want to train with me?...Is that what you are asking?...Or do you want me to tell you what is happening between the two students who are training?...” He was pretty certain that Xi wanted to train, but he asked him the second question just to be sure.

[Theyra]

D'Qar
Jedi Academy
Aerros Shyth

"Breath in and breath out", Aerros thought to himself as he was doing his own calming exercise. Aerros was in his room and sitting down on his bed in a meditative stance. "Breath in and out", he repeated in his head as he heard in the air. While breathing in the pleasing aroma that is coming from the burning incense on a his bedside table. The incense itself was a unique type from his homeworld of Kalee. He uses it for not just the spiritual value the incense has for his people but, because it helps to calm him down after the dream. Aerros only uses this calm exercise when he has the dream and really the dream is a nightmare. One that has plagued Aerros ever since his world was leveled by the Empire when he was eleven. The dream varies in what nightmarish experiences Aerros will see. But, two details are always the same, how the dream starts and how it ends.

Starting with him as a children in a hidden Kaleesh Resistance bunker just outside of a major city. Aerros was with his parents,They were spending time together after his parents succeeded in a raiding mission against the Imperials. Then..... the ground shook and loud explosions rang outside. Aerros only got a brief look outside before his parents grabbed from the opening in the bunker. All he saw was what to him looked like a barrage of fire from the sky and raining down on the city. The part of the dream that he always dreads the most is not the beginning, the middle, but, the end. After the ground stops shaking and the explosions cease. Aerros picks himself up from the rubble and slowly walks over to a body covered in debris. Aerros is drawn to the body and walks to it. When he gets to the body and removes the debris from covering the body's face. Aerros recognizes his mother's face and tries in vain to wake her up. As he starts to get on his knees and starts to cry, the nightmare ends.

That nightmare while painful for him, always makes him remember about what the Empire did. What they did to his people, his world, his friends and his mother. Despite his training under Luke, Aerros never could let go fully of his hatred of the Empire and those that serve it. Which makes it interesting that one of the padawans, Cori Cato is a former Imperial and that his fellow Jedi Knight Mala Rar, was a former Dark Jedi Acolyte. Adjusting to Mala Rar proved easier then he thought while they trained under Luke. Any conflicts he had with her has died down and he trust her. Cori though, he hopes for Cialle's sake that she can be trusted.

Aerros made one last breath out and opened his eyes. He got up from his bed and cleaned up the incense. Aerros gathered his lightsaber and left his room for the rest of the academy. "Now let's see if where my two padawans are", Aerros thought to himself. "Their training was going well and they are good enough to start going on missions". Aerros continued to think to himself, "the rest of padawans should be ready as well". "It will be nice to see how the students fare outside of the academy". Aerros finished the thought in his head and as he walked into the courtyard. He spotted his two students together, Jeweuhl and Xi and walked over to them. As soon as he was next to them, "Hello my students", he spoke in a friendly tone. "How are you two doing and", he pointed to the students training with each other. "You two plan of doing the same perhaps?

[The Olog-Hai]

Kaidin Thelcar
Jedi Academy, D'Qar

He was getting soft. Back on his homeworld, he'd be awake at the crack of dawn, ready for a brand new day. Here? He'd gotten soft. Sleeping in later and later. Bad sleeping habits were, well, bad. But all this Jedi business was exhausting. You wouldn't expect it to be. Meditating, a lot of thinking mainly. But it was. It took a lot of concentration, especially for one of his people, as they tended to be more... flighty and frivolous than others. A lot harder for them to concentrate, but that was a necessity of an airborne people like his own.

But he was awake now. No, give him another few minutes... Kaidin started to nod off, before shaking himself awake. Sun had been up for a while, if this world acted any like his own in that regard. And so far, it had. Time to get up and get moving. Kaidin sighed, standing up before dressing himself and grabbing his saber. Time to see what the day held in store.

As is turned out, this morning held in store a battle. Nothing more than a bit of sport, no lasting harm would come from it. Between the Imperial and the old Jedi. Not surprising, either. The Jedi was older than nearly anyone at the academy, if not everyone, and he would have to hold a grudge against the Empire for what they did to his order. Kaidin couldn't blame him. He hated the Empire, too, for the oppression of his people. The oppression that was ended by the Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. A name famous throughout the galaxy. Kaidin settled down, watching the duel, hoping to himself that the Jedi would win. He never liked the Imperial, former or no.

[Wheatley Laboratories]

Xi, looking down at his friend, nodded. He turned his head, curiously watching the duel. He didn't know the duelling padawans' names, but there wasn't much need to if he couldn't address them. He went mainly off of apperance now, it was easier to remember what people looked like than their names anyway.
There wasn't really anything else going on in the courtyard and Xi felt bored. He much preffered to do something, rather than watch somebody do something and, realising there was a decent bit of courtyard left, wondered if Jeweuhl would like to practise. But... He'd have to ask him, and that meant stringing a bunch of movements together which was confusing for them both. Still, Jeweuhl had an almost uncanny understanding of what Xi was trying to say normally, so maybe it'd be fine.

Xi tapped him three times on the shoulder to let him know he was going to "talk". Once he got Jeweuhl's attention, he cocked his head, to signal a question, before assuming a defensive pose without activaiting his sabers then pointed to Jeweuhl, hoping that had worked.

Another three taps on the shoulder. Jeweuhl turned back toward Xi, understanding that he wanted to continue “speaking”. He focused on his movements. Apparently Xi wanted to ask him about something, potentially about the battle in front of them. Yet then he got into a defensive stance, as though he was going to try and parry an oncoming attack. Jeweuhl was momentarily confused. He scanned Xi’s motions for any signs of fear or trepidation, but he did not sense anything that indicates his partner was afraid. Focusing on the parrying stance, he inquired, “...Do you want to train with me?...Is that what you are asking?...Or do you want me to tell you what is happening between the two students who are training?...” He was pretty certain that Xi wanted to train, but he asked him the second question just to be sure.

In answer, Xi walked away from the crowd and ignited his lightsabers, a brilliant blue blade of light springing from both of the weapons as they hummed quietly. He gave a few practise sweeps and jabs with both sabers, then beckoned Jeweuhl over.
It was then the two padawan's master appeared and greeted them, Xi giving a simple nod in response. The timing was convinent, he'd be able to watch their duel now, perhaps advise them afterwards.
Xi considered himself fairly skilled with a lightsaber, able to effectively weild two sabers while most only used one. It had been hard learning, he recalled, before he was confident and the blades always wobbled in his grip. Eventually, he'd got it though. All the padawans had, taking various different times to do so. Now, he was proud that he could... It felt like he was finally doing something in his life.

[Ceannairceach]

Cori Cato
Jedi Academy
D'Qar, Ileenium

---

Cori fell to the ground with a loud thud, slightly dazed by the force of the blow. She threw her saber up with both hands to catch Torr's next attack, but her defense was week, and it was no challenge at all for her opponent to strike her saber from her hands, sending it clattering away towards the edge of their arena. She looked up, her vision clearing, to see Torr standing over her, saber in hand. For the briefest of moments, she thought that it was someone else, before she shook her head and cleared her mind of the vision.

"I think that's time," Torr said as he clipped his saber to his belt, offering a hand for her to grab. She graciously accepted, allowing him to pull her up before she broke the grip. Dusting herself off, she collected her own saber, and after checking that it had not been damaged by the fall, clipped it to her own belt.

She turned to look at her opponent, and rubbed her sore neck dramatically. "Damn, Torr, if you don't go easier on me, I'm not gonna be able to save your blue ass in the field." She gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder. "But that was a minute thirty-five, so, technically, I'm calling it a draw." Scanning the crowd that had grown to watch them, she saw that many of the masters and students of the academy had awoken, which meant, she thought, that the day's tasks were soon to be assigned. "Looks like you're reigning champ for the day, Torr. Unless anyone wants to challenge you?" She let the question hang in the air, pointing her saber lazily around at the gathered students. "C'mon, guys. Just because I'm a nerf herder doesn't mean you have to be."

[Beiarusia]

D'Qar
Assembly Hall, Jedi Academy

The Jedi were soon summoned to the Assembly Hall. The building was modern in its construction, rectangular in overall design with a durasteel skeleton shoring canted walls of stone, plastic, and other metal alloys, but it maintained an aesthetic reminiscent to the old Massassi temples like those found on Yavin 4. The interior was spacious with no structural bracing to support the high ceiling. Various skylights allowed the sun to flood the room, the light diffused by the glass to a soft amber hue. The four walls were austere in their decoration, bare mostly against the intricate craftsmanship, the most prominent embellishment being the painted symbol of the New Jedi Order presiding at the front of the vestibule. The stone flooring was terraced in wide steps so as to create the illusion of a stage when, in reality, the height difference was minuscule.

It was here on this "stage" that Jedi Master Luke Skywalker stood, pensive, his arms crossed behind his back. He wore traditional Jedi robes, but underneath one could see the black attire that was his usual ensemble of choice when away from D'Qar, and on his waist the silver of his lightsaber.

When all had gathered he called for their attention. "To begin I would like to congratulate the students on their progress," he said, his voice light and charming and nothing at all like one would expect of the man who had defeated both the Emperor and Lord Vader, the hero of the Galactic Civil War. "It has been many months since your arrival here at the Academy, and you all have shown tremendous growth, far exceeding my expectations, and so it is my pleasure to declare you ready for the next stage of your training. For eons the Jedi Order has assisted those in need, and it is my intention that we may do so once again. Henceforward, you will be leaving the Academy on assigned tasks to fulfill your responsibility as Jedi, with supervision of course.

"Recently we have received two requests for our intervention, and because you are still in training it will be two groups to a mission. Knights Rar and Che'Kerail will take their students to Onderon to resolve a kidnapping. Knights Shyth and Mons will head to Naboo to investigate claims of Imperial sightings. Once you are ready you will gather in the Hangar to depart.

"One final word. Before coming to this Academy you came from backgrounds as varied as the planets in the galaxy. You are orphans, soldiers, rebels, smugglers, and everything else in-between, but now you share a collective trait with me, with your masters, and with each other. From this day forward you are Jedi. Remember this while away. And may the Force be with you," Luke said in closing. Those gathered left to ready themselves for the coming assignments, to ask questions or to prepare or to meditate, and when prepared they would be shuttled out into the galaxy as ambassadors of hope.

The first steps of rebuilding the Jedi Order.

---

Onderon
Iziz Spaceport, Iziz

The U-Wing jumped in-system, the blue tunnel of hyperspace coalescing back into a uniformed reality. The grey-coloured starship was quickly identified by local STF and, after confirming identification, allowed to proceed without further delay. The U-Wing followed a shallow descent to the surface of Onderon, skimming high overhead the walled-city of Iziz before landing as directed at the busy spaceport. The starship touched down with a small thud, and a moment later opened to allow the passengers to disembark.

A man was there to greet them. Middle-aged with tanned skin, neatly trimmed black hair, and wearing a pressed uniform identifying him as belonging to Royal Onderon Militia (the badge on his shoulder further identified his rank as lieutenant). "You must be the Jedi," he said with little formality. "I am Lieutenant Faiear. King Modon Kira is awaiting in the Royal Palace. This way, a transport is outside."

He turned to lead them but paused as if forgetting something.

"And welcome to Iziz."

---

Naboo
Theed Spaceport, Theed

The red-and-white-coloured U-Wing was on approach to land. The spaceport was constructed into the base of a high cliff traversing the northern edge of the floodplains with the city of Theed built atop. The starship slipped past a lumbering freighter on ascent and turned nimbly into its assigned spot, touching down with little difficulty.

A protocol droid was there to greet them and, without much conversation, led the Jedi towards the main terminal building.

[Luminesa]

Another three taps on the shoulder. Jeweuhl turned back toward Xi, understanding that he wanted to continue “speaking”. He focused on his movements. Apparently Xi wanted to ask him about something, potentially about the battle in front of them. Yet then he got into a defensive stance, as though he was going to try and parry an oncoming attack. Jeweuhl was momentarily confused. He scanned Xi’s motions for any signs of fear or trepidation, but he did not sense anything that indicates his partner was afraid. Focusing on the parrying stance, he inquired, “...Do you want to train with me?...Is that what you are asking?...Or do you want me to tell you what is happening between the two students who are training?...” He was pretty certain that Xi wanted to train, but he asked him the second question just to be sure.

In answer, Xi walked away from the crowd and ignited his lightsabers, a brilliant blue blade of light springing from both of the weapons as they hummed quietly. He gave a few practise sweeps and jabs with both sabers, then beckoned Jeweuhl over.
It was then the two padawan's master appeared and greeted them, Xi giving a simple nod in response. The timing was convinent, he'd be able to watch their duel now, perhaps advise them afterwards.
Xi considered himself fairly skilled with a lightsaber, able to effectively weild two sabers while most only used one. It had been hard learning, he recalled, before he was confident and the blades always wobbled in his grip. Eventually, he'd got it though. All the padawans had, taking various different times to do so. Now, he was proud that he could... It felt like he was finally doing something in his life.

Jeweuhl nodded, as he watched Xi activate the Lightsabers, and he walked after him with his own at his side. So Xi did want to train. Jeweuhl smiled. He himself would probably feel much better after a good training-duel with his fellow Padawan. Perhaps his mind would be able to ease itself, and his meditations would improve. Carefully, as he got into a stance several feet away, and activated his own training saber, he watched Xi’s sabers. While he could not see his opponent himself, he could definitely track his weapons, as they of course glowed with the power of the Force. Calmly, he raised his lightsaber in front of him, so that the tip of the blade aligned with his nose. “...Attack when you’re ready,” he instructed.

[Luminesa]

D'Qar
Assembly Hall, Jedi Academy

The Jedi were soon summoned to the Assembly Hall. The building was modern in its construction, rectangular in overall design with a durasteel skeleton shoring canted walls of stone, plastic, and other metal alloys, but it maintained an aesthetic reminiscent to the old Massassi temples like those found on Yavin 4. The interior was spacious with no structural bracing to support the high ceiling. Various skylights allowed the sun to flood the room, the light diffused by the glass to a soft amber hue. The four walls were austere in their decoration, bare mostly against the intricate craftsmanship, the most prominent embellishment being the painted symbol of the New Jedi Order presiding at the front of the vestibule. The stone flooring was terraced in wide steps so as to create the illusion of a stage when, in reality, the height difference was minuscule.

It was here on this "stage" that Jedi Master Luke Skywalker stood, pensive, his arms crossed behind his back. He wore traditional Jedi robes, but underneath one could see the black attire that was his usual ensemble of choice when away from D'Qar, and on his waist the silver of his lightsaber.

When all had gathered he called for their attention. "To begin I would like to congratulate the students on their progress," he said, his voice light and charming and nothing at all like one would expect of the man who had defeated both the Emperor and Lord Vader, the hero of the Galactic Civil War. "It has been many months since your arrival here at the Academy, and you all have shown tremendous growth, far exceeding my expectations, and so it is my pleasure to declare you ready for the next stage of your training. For eons the Jedi Order has assisted those in need, and it is my intention that we may do so once again. Henceforward, you will be leaving the Academy on assigned tasks to fulfill your responsibility as Jedi, with supervision of course.

"Recently we have received two requests for our intervention, and because you are still in training it will be two groups to a mission. Knights Rar and Che'Kerail will take their students to Onderon to resolve a kidnapping. Knights Shyth and Mons will head to Naboo to investigate claims of Imperial sightings. Once you are ready you will gather in the Hangar to depart.

"One final word. Before coming to this Academy you came from backgrounds as varied as the planets in the galaxy. You are orphans, soldiers, rebels, smugglers, and everything else in-between, but now you share a collective trait with me, with your masters, and with each other. From this day forward you are Jedi. Remember this while away. And may the Force be with you," Luke said in closing. Those gathered left to ready themselves for the coming assignments, to ask questions or to prepare or to meditate, and when prepared they would be shuttled out into the galaxy as ambassadors of hope.

The first steps of rebuilding the Jedi Order.

---

Onderon
Iziz Spaceport, Iziz

The U-Wing jumped in-system, the blue tunnel of hyperspace coalescing back into a uniformed reality. The grey-coloured starship was quickly identified by local STF and, after confirming identification, allowed to proceed without further delay. The U-Wing followed a shallow descent to the surface of Onderon, skimming high overhead the walled-city of Iziz before landing as directed at the busy spaceport. The starship touched down with a small thud, and a moment later opened to allow the passengers to disembark.

A man was there to greet them. Middle-aged with tanned skin, neatly trimmed black hair, and wearing a pressed uniform identifying him as belonging to Royal Onderon Militia (the badge on his shoulder further identified his rank as lieutenant). "You must be the Jedi," he said with little formality. "I am Lieutenant Faiear. King Modon Kira is awaiting in the Royal Palace. This way, a transport is outside."

He turned to lead them but paused as if forgetting something.

"And welcome to Iziz."

---

Naboo
Theed Spaceport, Theed

The red-and-white-coloured U-Wing was on approach to land. The spaceport was constructed into the base of a high cliff traversing the northern edge of the floodplains with the city of Theed built atop. The starship slipped past a lumbering freighter on ascent and turned nimbly into its assigned spot, touching down with little difficulty.

A protocol droid was there to greet them and, without much conversation, led the Jedi towards the main terminal building.

Jeweuhl gathered with the rest of the Jedi, as he listened to Master Skywalker address the class. His voice was very warm and caring, and the Force flowing through him was vibrant and full of life. The young Padawan was entranced by the Master, and hardly listened to his words, as he found the Force even more fascinating and telling. One of his skills that came from being able to read one's Force energy was his ability to read someone's character behind their words. Luke was almost like a history textbook-all of the emotions, colors of thoughts, and hints of memories were rich and dense. If Jeweuhl could spend even a day learning one-on-one with him, he knew that he would probably find more knowledge than he could imagine. Yet that was not his current concern. Now, he had to focus on the mission ahead.

He boarded the U-Wing with the rest of the class, and sat by himself for most of the flight. He preferred to meditate during such long flights, though no flights were really long with hyper-speed and the like. When they landed, he quietly followed the rest of the Jedi Padawans off the ship, and met with one of the guards on Onderon. He seemed polite enough, but unreadable. Jeweuhl felt slightly anxious, but merely stayed close to Xi and did not stray from the team.

[Beiarusia]

---

Onderon
Iziz Spaceport, Iziz

The U-Wing jumped in-system, the blue tunnel of hyperspace coalescing back into a uniformed reality. The grey-coloured starship maneuvered deftly into an approach vector with the only habitable planet in the system, and upon entering the sphere-of-influence was identified by local STF who, after confirming identity, allowed clearance to land. The U-Wing followed a shallow descent profile to the surface of Onderon, skimming high overhead the vast forest which covered much of the planet, and in the distance grew the walled city of Iziz. "We'll be landing in just a moment," announced the pilot, an older man who'd previously served during the Galactic Civil War.

Inside the starship were two Jedi Knights, Aerros Shyth and Mala Rar, and their four promising students: Torr, Kaidin, Jeweuhl, and Xi. The more advanced of the young Jedi, these four had been tasked by Jedi Master Luke Skywalker to assist in matters wherever such assistance was requested, this being the next phase of their training.

Currently they were on Onderon to attend to a kidnapping.

The U-Wing circled the spaceport before coming down atop Landing Pad 7, its two engines idling for a long moment before shutting down with a prolonged whine. Wings locked in place, the side doors opened to allow the Jedi to depart (the pilot would oversee the ship). A man was there to greet them. Middle-aged with tanned skin, neatly trimmed black hair, and wearing a pressed uniform identifying him as belonging to the Royal Onderon Militia (the badge on his left shoulder further identifying his rank as lieutenant). "You must be the Jedi," he said with little formality, pausing to study the odd assembly of do-gooders. "I am Lieutenant Faiear. You no doubt have your questions, and I will answer what I can, but King Modon Kira is awaiting us in the palace. This way, a transport is outside."

He turned to lead them but paused as if forgetting something.

"And welcome to Iziz."

True to his word a ROM vehicle was outside the spaceport: a simple transport reminiscent to the public shuttles flying up above but smaller and painted a deep rust-red. Lieutenant Faiear allowed the Jedi to board before taking his place near the driver, and soon enough they were on their way to the Royal Palace.

"Now, before we arrive, is there anything that you must know?"