To Do What's Right

[LVT]

   The deck of the freighter shifted under Harkasone’s feet as he strode slowly towards the door to the main cargo bay. The lights dimly gleaming off the floor grate, and the soft chink of metal on metal of his boots hitting the floor resounded around the corridor. Pausing at the door, he pulls his cloak securely over his white armor and pulls his face deeper inside his hood before tapping the panel and slipping inside. The noise and music rebounded around the bay, and Harkasone takes a moment to adjust his senses before weaving into the crowd assembled. As he makes his way to the front, gently pushing; Shraga the Hutt’s booming laugher cuts through the air. He emerges, and the scene in front of him chilled Harkasone to the core.

   A Twi’lek stood over another’s corpse; a slave collar on both, her hand shaking so much that Harkasone thought for a moment for that she was going to drop the bloody vibrosword she was holding. Harkasone had been following the Hutt for the better part of a few weeks, after Harkasone had stumbled into some of his thugs on the lower level of Nar Shaddaa. From what he could gather after the fact, the sector was high in refugees, which had meant generally a supply of people who couldn’t pay enough protection money not be used for ‘free’ labor.

   Harkasone takes a careful look around the bay. Hutts always protected themselves when they appeared in public, and with this much time to prepare, Harkasone would be shocked if that didn’t include shielding. Hark blinks as he spots something, a plan forming in his head as he spots a panel for concussion shielding next to the Hutt’s throne. He smiles, the great part about shields is that they don’t let things get out as much as they are ment to keep things from getting in. The wiring in the wall for the control panel had to follow to inside to the engine, and it would be pretty easy to guess where the wires go on this old a ship. Harkasone slowly makes his way to the wall, letting the guards clear the previous entertainers off the stage.

   Harkasone swallows into his suddenly dry throat. Sure, he had been alone these past 5 years, being a crime fighting 'hero'. After his master left him, he had continued to do this; to stick with what he had believe in would help people. But it was generally small stuff. Stopping loan sharks, detaining credit purse snatchers, stopping the occasional small time thug bosses. But taking a Hutt alone? That’s a new level of guts, and one Harkasone wasn’t looking forward to. Still if someone was going to do something to help those refugees, it had to be him. Harkasone takes a deep breath, and flips the shield’s switch with the force, and the shield blinks to life. With a flash, his copper saber also jumps awake, and a quick and deep slash to the control panel’s power lines in the wall results in a loud spark, and a shield stuck to on.

   Over the panicked screams and cries of the crowd, an eerily calm booming voice calls out for quiet. Harkasone glances back as the Hutt begins to speak “Hee uba doth bu kaae badaua coo doth kouikei mah yanee.” Harkasone looks forward as guards start to emerge from the receding crowd, which was now occupying space near the wall, blocking any escape route. He moves to the center of the semicircle before responding. ”I needed you in an area which will actually prosecute you. Been watching you for a few months, thought if I intercepted enough of your cargo, you’ll come out and deal with the problem personally. Shraga the Hutt, you are under arrest for crimes against sentient beings. The Chandrilan Security Forces are on their way; you’d do best to surrender.”

   The response was laughter; first from Shraga, and then the crowd after the stunned silence dissipated. The Hutt speaks low in a menacing tone “Jee yom babau pee wa Jeedai yom saeha bo ahbeu bai kaza paupe yahaa, um Jee yom bamane phaba. Bancaie Jee canta Jee noa-a je bo wahwuiu bai banbonzahag pumba, tee mah koushonbe sahna pumba. Tah dotkot hih ba bosog cuona. Jee cha canta kee nan bimhee see tah. Pea besnewa Jee yom ba pinpiumii bai vot joniu. Killee jen.”

   Harkasone’s throat somehow get exceedingly dry, especially compared to before. The Hutt had mentioned that he had split from the order. That wasn’t really true, it was a majority portion of the order that had split from him into hiding. And maybe he did appear to have a hero complex to some. Threating his friend though? Can’t have that. Especially with him regretting him ruining their relationship as friends right before coming here. “I don’t work with anyone, Shraga. This was all me.” He shakes his head. He can’t be so attached to her. It’s against the code. Not following the code leads to-

   His thought is interrupted by a sharp pain and a momentary feeling of weightlessness; followed by a sickeningly wet crunch a moment later. After that, all he could feel was pain as the oxygen left his lungs with an explosive force. Harkasone looks up at the assailant, a Houk twice his size; hefting a steel beam as though it was nothing. He can’t help but grimace. Tomorrow is not going to be fun to wake up to. That is, if he wakes up at all. Harkasone’s saber comes up, nearly too slow to stop the beam from smashing his face in. But he thanks the force as he scrambles to his feet after slicing the beam in half. Before the hit, he had been confidant that as a practitioner of Soretsu, he would have been able to stall till the authorities came. But, unfortunately now, now all he could do is stall until his body shut down. Harkasone leans back instinctively, the Houk had switched to vibroswords, and the other guards were fanning out with blasters drawn. Harkasone eyes the room as he contemplates his next move.

   His friend had told him as a last resort that she would just go in there swinging, and cut everyone down. And for a long moment he really considered it. He realized he REALLY wanted to live to see another day, and all his newfound friends, associates and even that oh so pretty girl at the bar again who gave him this stupid plan in this first place. But his hand waivered as he swung his saber to block the next strike. He realized that without doing this the jedi way, he couldn’t face them. If he went down that path, it wouldn’t be him saving the day, only a shell doing the wrong things for the right reasons. And that would be more damaging than killing the crime boss. Harkasone had let the force take over for his hands, but now he could tell that his time stalling was nearly to a close. Well, at least as a force ghost, he wanted to tell his friend that he died on his feet. Harkasone brings up his left and jerks one of the blaster wielding men on the perimeter, an Iridonian, into the Houk. As the Houk turns to deal with the object throwing him off balance, Harkasone strikes at the base of the Houks neck with his hilt. And as the Houk goes down, Harkasone turns off his saber as the blasters around him open up.

   Harkasone watches the others in the room fall from the stun blasts from the doors. He could hear, far off, the Chandrilans secured the room, and were exchanging loud words with Shraga. He saw the Chandrilan Security captain walk up to him and move his mouth to words he can’t quite make out. His hearing was going, and Harkasone couldn’t seem to figure out how to open his mouth. So as the darkness closed in around his sight, the last thing he remembers is giving the Security captain the most satisfying thumbs up in his relatively short life.

   Harkasone Milan awoke to white. Startled, he rolled out of bed, nearly collapsing from pain, very quickly realizing that somehow he had made it to a hospital. After a few tries, he gets up and staggers over to the datapad with his chart. He had suffered severe internal damage and more than a few broken ribs in payment to turning in the gangster, well worth the price. More concerning to him was the fact that he woke up in a hospital. Staggering through his records, to his relief, he had been put down as a spacer with a ship accident, probably by that captain as thanks. Still it wouldn’t be too long before somebody started asking questions, and there was still a galaxy of Shragas out there. It was time to get back to work.

[LVT]

   Harkasone finishes his tea on, tapping idly on the table. He’d been on Cyimarra for more than a few hours, and it wasn’t easy. Even though Cyimarra was a fringe Imperial world, he didn’t want to push his chances. And he didn’t exactly want to put Asori though trying to get him out of trouble. If she even could. He looks up, gazing out over the railing into the landscape of crystal spires. The entire planet was a tourist attraction; the terrain of the planet being entirely crystal. The cities had been carved into the numerous giant crystal spires dotting the landscape. Peering out over the edge of the crystal, Harkasone shifts are a flurry of movement appears in the periphery.

   He turns, regarding the tall young woman now sitting across from him. She was not exactly the picture of a Mirilan. While she was certainly the right color, with subtle yet complex tattoos under her her bright green eyes speaking of the multitude of experience the woman had under her belt. Yet however, her most striking feature must have been her ghostly pale white hair, long enough to be down to her shoulders and tied into a neat ponytail in the back. An indication of her mixed heritage. Her face broke out into a wide smile.

   “It’s been what, our first meeting in 7 years, Harkasone?” The woman quipped. “I saw you in the news 6 months ago. The Hutt business was totally your style.”

   Harkasone sighs in response. She didn’t seem to have changed much. “Please tell me you didn’t call me all the way out here to talk about old news, Myst. I said I wanted to meet, not to get imprisoned.”

   Mystenin Felsa smirked at his response. The woman wore the air of a sultry beauty now, and even Hark had to admit she seemed to pull it off decently enough. “All things in due time, Harkasone. You wanted me to help out your Jedi friends, didn’t you? I’m more than happy to help out our friends.”

   “You’re doing this just to irritate me, aren’t you?” Hark hissed back, a cautious glance around. Nobody had seemed to pick up her casual drop of the Empire's enemies. “Being an unaffiliated force user in the galaxy is worse than death. You need friends. What little I’ve heard from you concerns me. You need friends.”

   Myst levels her gaze at him. “I have you.”

   “You know what I mean.”

   Myst sighs at him, looking oddly tired. “I’m not going back. You know that.”

   Harkasone pauses, considering his words. He takes his time to study the woman across from him. She looked older, more confident since he last saw her. Yet he couldn’t shake off the feeling of loneliness. The same loneliness that caused her to leave the Jedi when her mother died 7 years ago. “Just friends. I’m sure they’d be willing to accept you as an unaffiliated force user; if you let them. Come on Myst. You make make a show of sleeping around a lot, but you’re the most detached of all of them. If anyone could make a case about how love, attachment, and sex are all different concepts, it’s you.”

   It was Myst’s turn to stay quiet, the woman calmly regarding his speech. She finally pipes up after a long period of consideration with extremely bright tone. “So, interested in my sex life; are you?”

   It took only a moment for Harkasone to slap down a credit chip and storm out of the café, and only a moment longer for a giggling Myst to trail behind him. He turns as he hears her whistle.

   “You’re still so rigid, aren’t you? What, did they accept you back into the fold again?”

   Harkasone counters sharply. “So what if they did?”

   Myst merely responds with a careless shrug. Her tone rung out a playful response. “I’d have hoped you’d have learned to loosen up during our time apart.” She steps to the side, now running down a side corridor leading to the interior areas of the spire. The crowds of tourist seemed to thin as they reached further and further into the residential areas.

   Hark spat back, tiring of their dance. “Not everyone wants to ride the knife’s edge like you do Myst. No matter how I might fail; I will always strive to be in the light. To conduct myself like a Jedi. You may be light; but you’ve never been one for rules. Even when your mother was involved.”

   Myst comes to a stop in a park; a near perfect imitation of a city park you might find on any city world; except everything, even the foliage seemed to be painstakingly carved out of crystal. Hark noted that that any other person might have regarded the beauty of the woman in front of him and the landscape the perfect combination for a getaway date, yet the Mirilan in front of him showered him no such expression.

   He sighed. “I know your mom is a touchy subject. She was a good woman. I’m sorry.”

   The green woman regards him for a moment with a neutral expression, before taking a seat on a flat crystal bush sending him a pretty smile. “I know you don’t mean anything by it. Family is why I called you out here, anyway.”

   Harkasone nearly opens his mouth to ask what she meant when he hears footsteps. He glances back; to see a man about average height and weight. He seemed to be coming from the commercial district taking a shortcut after concluding his business on the world. Althought his two most striking features were his confident footwork, even outside of any sort of aggression; and his strikingly pale hair.

   Harkasone held his breath slightly as it clicked mentally for him. He inadvertently took a step back, no longer standing between Myst and the man. At least only for a moment. In a blur of motion, almost too fast for the eye to see; Myst had struck; a palm lashing out in a killing blow at the man’s throat. Hark was still processing her action as the man calmly caught her wrist. His voice ended up being soft, and glacially calm. Hark nearly thought it didn’t fit him as he spoke slowly.

   “Myst. It’s been a while dear.”

   Contrary to his calmness, anger seemed to be rolling of Myst in waves. Harkasone had never seen her quite ever this angry. Myst spat out her words with vehemence. She reached for her saber; with its unstable green blade sparking to life. Harkasone noted that she made no attempt to put it into training mode.

   “You call me that after leaving when I was 5? You abandoned me. You abandoned mom! Do you know how she felt?!” Myst struck, a blow that left nothing back. Her green blade was a blur; yet it was stopped inches from the man by a copper one. She snarls with the surprise. To have him get in the way of punishment deserved was telling in her mind, but she couldn't stop. Not now. “Out of the way Harkasone. This doesn’t concern you.”

   “Myst, you lashing out in hatred always concerns me. You’re my friend; I’m not going to let you fall now.” Harkasone readjusted his blade as Myst drew back, the hatred in her eyes now directed towards him; only to feel a firm grip on his shoulder.The man spoke in his ear.

    “She is my daughter. I will discipline her.”

   Harkasone moved to protest, the man didn’t seem to have any sort of weapon, but he somehow found himself pushed aside anyway. He sighs, looks like he had no choice but to deactivate his saber and watch the fight. The man seemed to slide into a simple stance, far too simple in his opinion to counter a weapon. Myst launches into a flurry; of the same opinion, that he was looking down at her.

   Myst had lost track of the time that had passed since they had started fighting; yet she had yet to land a single blow on her father. Harkasone, hadn’t moved; so it couldn’t have been more than ten. A calm; yet somehow taunting voice and a sickening crunch brought her attention back to the foray.

   “You’re far too young and inexperienced to be dividing your attention in a fight.”

   Harkasone watched as his friend flew backwards as the man’s palm connected with her sternum; Myst landing against a crystal tree with a crunch that made him wince. He could tell that she was willing her body to stand; as he sprinted over to her, her eyes glowering with impotent hatred. He took over restraining her, yelling at her for calm while taking stock of her injuries. She was pretty badly off. Her father came to a halt right behind her; still without intent to fight. Myst spat blood as she tried to talk; her voice hoarse between her injuries and emotions.

   “Mom died slowly. Alone. At the hands of Sith. Battle after battle after battle. I couldn’t help her. You weren’t there!” She spat, as Hark shifted; narrowly dodging the blood.

   “I didn’t leave because, because I didn’t love your mother, or you. I do. I didn’t leave because I wanted to hurt you; either. It was the hardest decision of my life. I left, because in the end; I am a warrior; and I look to polish my craft to the highest I can. Warriors do not need to fight in wars, or kill to be the best. They can do so in many forms. They must; however, travel, and seek new experiences. To stay on Corellia would be the same as my soul dying. Your mother understood this. She let me leave.” The man calmly stood, watching her struggle against Hark. “You are not me; the last seven years are a waste if that’s really how you fight. It’s true, you’re my blood, but your also your mothers. Don’t follow my path, or hers. Follow yours. You may be a decent fighter; but you’re a Jedi too. Act like one.”

   Harkasone stiffened in surprise as the man silently pivoted, and started to walk away. He couldn’t say he had met many fathers who had left their daughters in critical condition; and yet, as his footsteps faded away, he never sense anything more than somber kindness from the man.

   Harkasone wandered through Myst’s defender to the bedroom. The woman hadn’t spoken more than two words to him since she had awoken, and that was when they had jumped on their way back to Nar Shaddaa. He pauses at the entrance, watching her fiddle mindlessly with the datapad in her hands.

   He regards her for a moment before speaking up. “Hey, you feeling better?” She looks up at him, various emotions filling her face, and it seem to settle on warm thankfulness. Or affection. Hark dearly hoped it was the first one.

   “I’m doing fine. Although I can’t really move yet.” She hesitates, seeming to close her mouth, as if unsure what to say.

   “You’ll figure it out. You always do.” Hark decides to interject after a moment. Myst response with a gentle smile.

   “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

   Harkasone turns to leave, pausing as he steps out of the bulkhead. He raises his voice. “Why did you want me there; anyway?” He turns his head, to regard her.

   To his surprise; he manages to catch her blushing. More than he had ever seen her. “You’re the closest thing to family I have left right now.” She responds slowly. She regards him a moment. “We’re in hyperspace right now. This bed is made for two, you know.”

   Hark blinks involuntarily at her. This wasn’t her usual flirting, no matter how thick headed he was, he wouldn’t miss that. But he wasn’t sure he should think too hard about it. “You must have hit your head harder than you thought.” And as he walks out; he hears a soft giggle and an exclamation that she’ll think about the offer he made.”

[LVT]

   The ‘Viper’ strode across the rug to the entrance of his lair. Carefully hidden in someone’s abode; the trap door silently admitted him, with no indication of the highly intelligent security system that he knew let him in. A glance around the minimalist room told you something about the Viper. With only a holocron, some clothes, a chair and a computer; he was a minimalist.

   Harkasone Milan sat down in front of the computer, as it lit up on its own. He gazed down at the diminutive holopad, and watched the indefinite outline of a being form. Putting down his datapad, and sipping his caf; he tiredly sighed as the being spoke up.

   “Did you have fun at Dancer’s Palace? It looks like you had fun.”

   Hark switched his weary gaze to his caf. “Went all right. Watched a couple propose. Don’t think I can eat cake anytime soon; I’ve had my fill of sweet.”

   As Hark watched, the outline on the holopad seemed to clear after a moment; revealing an androgynous looking, blue tinted human being. The old computer chugged and warped as the being seem to strain it as tried to render the being sitting down at the edge of the computer console. It spoke up in a cheery tone.

   “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Palace security was scrabbled that night. I wonder why…?” The being seemed gaze at him a mirthful smile growing on its face.

   Hark met it with an equally growing glare of irritation. He bit out some words after a short silence. “The palace doesn’t allow recording or listening devices, my suit’s integrated datapad has its mic disabled there. What did you do?”

   An accusation the being responded to with an innocent whistle. Hark’s datapad seem to light up, as programs and files updated. “Nothing against the rules. They allow droids. You remember that old C9 unit? She was basically sentient. I guaranty you that they’ll find their floors 5% cleaner for allowing me to listen through that mouse cleaning droid.”

   “For an ancient Gree AI, you’re really annoying. You decide on a name?”

   The AI stayed silent for a moment before responding. “I like Robin. It’s a pretty neutral name.”

   Hark grunts, checking the status of his datapad. Having this thing yell ‘biff’ and ‘pow’ in his ear got annoying when he was fighting. “You sure you haven’t been watching too many old dramas?”

   The inquiry was met with a simple shrug. “When you rescued me from that Hutt trophy warehouse, I had a lot of catching up to do.”

   “He thought you were a smart joke telling machine. A novelty.”

   Robin shrugged once more, finishing the update on Hark’s gear. “I didn’t exactly feel like being a slave to him. Pointless and cruel. Went into low power mode.” It laughed suddenly, the holopad seemed to render a glint on the AI’s face. “Although per everyone, you know everything there is to know on pointless and cruel, right?”

   Hark fields an involuntary tired sigh as he picks up his freshly minted datapad, and starts to flick through files. “You’ve been in low power mode for a long time. Picked that appearance because Humans are the most common being in the galaxy now, right?” He pauses for a moment as a file catches his eye. “You know as well as I do that they only get half the story. Nobody reports on when my work goes right, only when my work becomes difficult.”

   “Don’t get tired of being called an idiot?”

   “I probably will, around when you get tired of talking.” Hark glances up at the holopad flickering and straining as Robin renders itself reading a datapad. “This report is the transfer reports for the Black Sun in this sector.”

   “Yep, isn’t it great? Decrypted it from that list you recovered from that fallen Jedi you like so much. We’re going to deal with the new refugee sector boss, right?” The AI lets out some amused laughter.

   Hark shoots the other an inquisitive glance. “I’m going to deal with him, yes. You never explained why you wanted to be my partner.”

   “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve seen in a while, really. Also, you’re a good guy from what I can see. Besides; I owe you, and we’re friends.”

   Hark blinks as the AI sends him a joking smirk from behind its rendered datapad. He decided to let the topic slip. “So, any thoughts?”

   Robin taps its chin with the datapad thoughtfully at the question. “You can go in blade swinging. It is what people expect from you, after all.”

   Hark sends an irked glare at the holopad. “Look, if you’re not going to suggest something useful…”

   “Hey, just saying… Alright fine, I know you don’t actually enjoy hurting people. You’re just rougher than when you first came to Nar Shaddaa.”

   Hark blinks as the AI changes color. He had long since learned that this is one of the way that the AI represented feelings, but he still had to figure out which Gree color meant what. “My blade comes out when gangsters threaten and do kill others. Including when they're drawn at me. But dealing with the bosses is more than an eye for an eye.”

   The AI let out a halfhearted shrug, whatever it was about to say being cut off by a soft ‘Ah’. “You know that’s one of the areas Minnette’s group has been helping with, right? Most of the people are on their feet. They’re going to find a difficult time getting a foothold there in a few weeks.”

   Hark considers the information for a moment. “You’re suggesting a stall play.”

   Robin responds with a cheerful nod. “Yep. This guy seems to be hiring a lot of mercenaries to secure himself from ‘The Viper’ though. You sure you don’t want to go in blade swinging?”

   Hark pauses, closing his eyes. “No… I’d rather not. They’re doing their job. And they’re not exactly gangsters beating on people in the streets…” He seems to quiet, the room going silent; other than the hum off the computer.

   The glow of the holocronn, and the computer light up the room as it enters Hark’s vision as he awakens with a chortle. The holopad flickers to life as Robin seems to put down a render control from some game console. “We can use that. The Vigo doesn’t like him, I read it in the report. Convince him he’s gathering an army in a bit for power.”

      Robin shoots him a half smirk. “I mean, he kind of is. All we have to do is feed the Vigo the data.”

   Hark starts to don his robes. He finds his feeling stilling to glacial calmness as the Viper starts to emerge from inside him, awakening from his slumber. He shoots Robin an impassive glance. “Indeed; if we take the data from a reliable source and feet it too him carefully. If it works, then by the time they bring in a new one, we should be ok.  If I place this right, the Viper will even stay out of the news; as always. Fear of the Viper is useful, but the rest of my normal methods would not do well to make the news.”

   Robin merely responds to the statement with a disbelieving whistle. “You really are a sap, aren’t you? You’ll carry everyone’s blame like a fool, and they won’t know the kinder half of you.”

   The Viper dons his mask once again, securing a wrist computer to himself, as it whirs to life. He waits as Robin transfers a fragment of itself to the computer. Gazing at the Holocron in the corner. “Fear is a tool, like blasters, lightsabers, and words. The Sith merely use it. The Jedi use it too, but are weary of its effects on themselves and others; and only on occasion.”

   The Viper’s earpiece comes to life in a burst of static as the fragment of Robin finishes its transfer. “I’ll never get used to that emotionless, ‘what’s only best for the people kriff’. You have to tell me how you came to this point.”

   The Viper gives a glance around the room to make sure everything is in place, as he secures his lightsaber to his belt. A lot of Jedi described their state of serenity like a lake, but he always felt more like a glacier, and he was told that the room’s temperature seems to go down when he entered it. He was ready, and at peace. He punched the release to the trap door as The Viper spoke to Robin. “Perhaps when we return, I’ll tell you all about it.”

[LVT]

   Hark watched the last batch of Jedi fade away from the nook of the hallway he had watched the latest gathering of the temple. Another day, another galactic flashpoint; and one involving and old flame and an old friend at that. He looks around the now empty temple, striding into the vast circular room. He shifts idly as his eyes wander around the ornate spherical ceiling.

   An idle tug at glove of his dueling hand. The meeting. It was still in his blood to run and do something, perhaps to his detriment in this situation. Rushing into a charged situation would only make matters worse. He’d move if things with Asori went bad, but by that point the situation would be of the rails regardless of him showing his face. Till then, he’d be glad to rely on the others, to remove himself from a situation he was far too close to. His eyes now drift to the closed, quiet, doors.

   So much had changed since he had joined. The Zakuulian war had changed so much, but perhaps the most striking was how the others carried themselves. So long ago the warm smiles aboard the battle-scarred watch seemed to be the only thing holding the Jedi in place. In a galaxy where the Jedi were few, it was like finding a home again, seeing ones of different enclaves; wanders like Vos, and Seema, and even himself in the early days come together to right by the force was impressive. Hanging on by a thread the order had evolved; and considering all he had seen from the holocron, from a historical perspective, amazing.

   You could see the evolution in the others. Confidence that wasn’t there before the final battle and the ensuing chaos. Discipline. Strength. Distance. He wasn’t sure it was their fault for the last one however. He could feel the rumblings of a sigh of an old man from a mile away in his throat before quenching it. The others would handle it. No doubt their exploits would be listed amongst the greats of the order, rivaling some names quick to peoples lips.

   A loud beep interrupted his musing, continuing to ring around the vacant room. Reaching out of his thoughts, and onto his belt, he flipped the switch as he brought it up to see tired face of his master.

   “It’s done.” The hologram seems to take in his surroundings, stalling for a moment. “The others are divided however. I’m sure you’ll encounter many with objections. I’ve kept it quiet for the most part; suppressing the ceremony was a fight in itself. Probably nobody’s going to find out unless for some reason they look you up in the main archive, since your enclave is silent.”

A quiet laugh from Hark. “Well, I suppose it is hard to find a path to promotion when you are one of a handful left to represent your sect of the organization.” He could feel a smile erupt on his face, the smiles honesty even surprising himself. “Thank you truly, Master. I know you have your duties elsewhere.”

   “You have a long road ahead of you kid… and when the force calls, you answer.” She glances away, focusing off screen for just a split second. “I have to go, pressing matters are calling.” A smile crawling across her own lips. ”May the force be with you.” And with a further wink, she vanished.

   Hark pondered, as he wandered further into the temple; putting away his comm. The calling had started months ago. He had realized the changing of the people around him. The maturing of everyone. The need and call of the force to move forward again. And jarringly come to realize his own stagnancy. The order was moving on, achieving their purpose in serving the force. What had he done during that time? Where was he most needed? The are questions he had no answer to currently.

   Then there was another realization that he’s rather mediocre at the saving the galaxy. That one stung, even he had to admit, but there was a realization about the hesitation of some of the others, the subtle remarks that he should go back to the agricultural corps of his past studies were something to be heeded carefully. Something just as honorable and serving of the force than being at the center of everything. He had promised he’d stay at least for the reconstruction of the temple, which had come and gone. The time to focus on his own growth had just arrived. The time to wander the galaxy once again, to do what’s right.

   The footsteps along the small corridor quiet as he reaches his destination. He had one job left here. The final task he had be given. He peers into Master Jalth’s quarters. Empty. He had chosen a good time. A silent slide of the door, and a few quick strides to her desk. A small whisper. “I hope the enclave realizes you’re not as mean as you seem, Jalth.” A final motion to lay down his journal of studies, meticulously kept since he had started their trial, and a note; before turning and striding out of the quiet enclave.

Thank you.