Title: A Jedi's Heart CLost Love) Part 2: Coruscant (11/2001)
Author: Rita Marx pinduck85@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 (WARNING: violence, but nothing graphic.)
Category: AU / Angst
Characters: All original with guest appearances by Masters Yoda and Yaddle, and a cameo by a seven year old Qui-Gon.
Summary: A Jedi Knight searches for what he lost and his sanity.
# Part 2 of 2 in the Second branch of the Portal Series. #
Please read Part 1 -- some things will make more sense.
Setting: Coruscant / Old Republic (pre TPM)
Generic Disclaimer: If you recognize it -- I don't own it. If you don't recognize it -- I probably do own it. And no, I'm not making any $$$ off this, the Cory the Cupid said Republic dataries are no good -- only real money.
Plot bunnies: =:'(@}--- and =:o and ===:) and =+:)
This is what happens when the angsty romance bunny and the song bunny mate.
Feedback: Please, my ego and my bunnies crave it. Flames will be nuked @=(
Archive: You want it? You can have it. Drop me a line so I can visit. :)
Note: //Telepathy.// Personal thoughts [Memories] Sounds ___Lyrics___
Author's note: Songs used (with some re-wording) are: _Always Something There To Remind Me_ by Naked Eyes, 1993; _Just Another Day_ by Jon Secada, 1992; _Obsession_ by Animotion, 1985; _Ordinary World_ by Duran Duran, 1993; _Come Undone_ by Duran Duran, 1993; _Hold Me_ by Mel Carter, 1965.
Author's Note 2: This is the first Star Wars fan-fic musical saga.
AN3: A big special thanks to my beta, Angel Sparrow.
+ ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ +
The sunlight twinkled off the traffic surrounding the Jedi Temple like daytime stars. Inside the office of Jedi Master Mind Healer Dorga Meador, the air was thick with grim emotions.
Jedi Master Naftel Ramer ran a hand through his lightly silvered, brown hair. Taking in another deep breath he turned his olive green eyes toward the Healer. "So you're saying there is still no improvement in Taren's condition?"
"That's right. If anything, his mental state over these past two months has gotten worse. He's in a state of severe depression, Naftel. There are periods where he's able to function as a Jedi. And then there are times where I begin to think I may have to start thinking about medication -- something I am loathe to do, but will if I must."
"His condition, that bad is it?" a gentle voice inquired.
"Not yet, Master Yoda," the Healer shook her head. "I believe somewhere, deep within his mind, he's able to acknowledge and fight what's happening. I believe with time and patience, I can help him."
The leader of the Jedi Council leaned on his gimer stick as he Force- scanned the young knight a few doors down. "Lost something, he has. Missing a piece of himself, he is. In danger of losing a good Jedi, are we." His long ears drooped slightly at the thought of losing a young Jedi Knight with much potential.
"Meditation doesn't seems to help any," Meador stated. She turned to her long-time friend Master Ramer. "I believe with your continued presence and our guidance, we can help him through this. He's not the first Jedi to go though depression. I feel confident he will make a full recovery."
"What do you suggest, Dorga?"
"I suggest getting him back into a regular routine. Get him back to thinking and acting and training like a Jedi. Surround him with our presence. To that effect, I think it would be best if he move in with you, Naftel. You were his Master, perhaps your constant presence will be what he needs to bring him back to us -- to be his anchor, so to speak."
Master Ramer nodded, "I'll do anything I can to help the man who was once my Padawan."
"I'll make arrangements with housing to get the next available double apartment," the Healer nodded.
"Done that, already I have," Master Yoda interjected. "Move out of your bachelor's quarters, you may now."
"Thank you for taking care of that for us, Master."
"Said anything about his time away from us, has he? For a nearly year, disappeared from us, he did."
Healer Meador shook her head, "Nothing that seems to make any kind of sense to me. He keeps calling for his 'life.' I don't understand what he means by this. His choice of words is significant -- it holds some meaning for him, but I can't get through his shields to understand. Sometimes he says 'life'; sometimes he says 'wife.' I just don't get it. And his speech pattern has changed. He uses Galactic Standard liberally sprinkled with words and phrasing that somehow seem archaic.
"It's been two months now since his return and we still don't have a clear picture of what happened to him," again Meador frowned.
"I'll keep an eye on him, Dorga. If I discover anything, no matter how small it may be, I'll let you know. I want Taren back as much as anyone. Perhaps more, since he's like a son to me."
The Healer nodded, "Perhaps together we can solve this mystery. I'll release Knight Savlon into your care immediately."
"Thank you, my friend."
@}--- @}--- @}---
"I'm glad you could make it, Cress."
"I'm glad you thought of me. This sounds like a very interesting case, Eura." The two healers, one Jedi, one civilian, shook hands as long-time colleagues and friends.
The two Mind-Healers settled down to talk business.
"Indeed. I'm thankful one of our workers happened to find her wandering around. She seems to have no memory of how she got here. Her manner of dress is not like anything I'm familiar with.
"She's very frightened of everything and everyone. She behaves as if she's lost all memory of the Republic and our advances. At first, judging by her manner of dress and speech patterns, I thought maybe she's from one of the more isolated planets in the Outer Rim, yet even *they* know how to operate a refresher and have seen a holo-picture.
"All I've been able to do is make her comfortable with a very rustic room of her own. She's having trouble accepting some of our most elementary conveniences. But, I will say, even though she is severely depressed, she's adapted quite well.
"I can feel the depth of her depression, Cress. The pain reaches very deep. And, I fear, she is slowly going mad for it."
"So, why did you call me in for a consultation?"
The civilian healer looked into her friend's eyes. "I believe the only thing keeping her somewhat sane is the baby. The child she carries is very strong in the Force. While not even three months old yet, I can sense the child."
The Jedi Healer looked at his childhood friend with a surprised light in his eyes. "With your sensitivity for the Living Force, Eura, you should have stayed a Jedi, rather than resign."
"It is exactly because I *am* so sensitive to that part of the Force that I felt I must leave. I can do more good for more people out here than I can in the Temple. I go where the Force leads me."
"I understand. As Master Yoda would say -- "
"Trust in the Force, one must," they spoke in unison.
"May I see the young lady?"
"Of course."
A walk to another level of the mental ward in Coruscant's finest hospital led to a small, sparsely furnished apartment. Those patients not deemed to be a danger to themselves were allowed their own quarters and privacy while under a Healer's gentle care.
After getting no reply to their knock and ring, Healer Eura Tap Force- scanned the room. Finding all was as it should be she led the way in.
Both Healers could feel the fear radiating from the figure huddled into a small bundle in a corner of the main room. Wrapped securely in a blanket the slight figure's distress could be felt even as they stood in the hallway. Closer now, they could also feel the presence of an unborn child reaching out, trying to calm its mother.
In answer to an unvoiced question, Healer Tap replied, //It's still too early for me to tell if it will be a boy or a girl.//
Kneeling down Healer Oshan could see the young woman in the curtained light. She turned to look at him as he placed a hand on her arm.
Her aqua-teal eyes were red, as was her nose, from so much weeping. Her waist-length hair, the color of white sea-foam, fell about her as a shield to protect her from the strange surroundings.
A light flickered, perhaps a little too brightly, in her eyes. "Where is my lord-husband? Where is Talon?" she whispered. "Where am I?"
"My Lady, I am Jedi Master Healer, Cress Oshan. I am here to help you find your way. You will come with me. I will help you find that which you seek... Will you come with me? Will you let me help you?" He waited patiently as he felt the young woman's turbulent emotions collide with one another.
Finally, she gave barely a nod. Oshan could feel the baby respond to his nearness -- respond with hope to another Force-sensitive.
@}--- @}--- @}---
"What is the young lady's name?" Healer Meador inquired.
"She gave the name 'Lady Flora, Countess of Falcon's Nest by the Sea.' I have cross-checked Healer Tap's research with our own archives and those of the Senate. There is no such place on file. Of the places which have a similar mode of dress there is, again, *no* match in any local dialect that translates as 'Falcon's Nest by the Sea.' Nor is there anything remotely close.
"Where she came from and how she arrived is still a mystery, Dorga."
The senior Jedi Mind Healer nodded as she looked over the data pad with information about their newest patient. "It could be that the young woman is suffering from some delusional illness, yet the med-scans reveal nothing. And there is no evidence of cranial trauma. For once, I'm glad Healer Tap decided to resign -- most healers would have her on heavy medication, which would certainly harm the child. I must call her and extend our thanks on their behalf." She shook her head, not knowing what to think of this strange case.
"Well," she said, returning the data pad to her Senior Assistant, "Proceed as you think best, Cress."
@}--- @}--- @}---
Jedi Knight Taren Savlon stared at his reflection in the mirror. His dark brown hair was a lot longer than it was when last he was in the Temple. He preferred it that way now. It served to remind him of all Fate decreed he leave behind. Not that he needed any reminders -- his heart would not allow him to forget, not for a second.
How could Fate and the gods be so cruel? he asked himself. In his pain, he slammed a fist into the mirror and watched as his blood slowly dripped into the sink. The dark red stain flowed into a familiar form as it oozed down the slope of the basin. The shape of a red rose took form. A single, perfect, rare desert rose. The symbol of something sacred; the symbol of something to be forever cherished. A rare gift from the gods. A rare gift to the heart.
How many times since his return, since being ripped apart from his life, had he thought of her -- his heart's mate. He felt his sanity slowly slipping through his grasp. How many times had he awakened in the night only to realize the feel of her soft curves and velvet lips was nothing more than a cruel memory. How many times? He long ago lost count.
Even after two months of counseling, his emotions were still raw. Many Jedi sought to avoid him when they felt his dark emotions roiling beneath the surface as he shuffled his way through the gardens. Slowly, he began talking about his life on an ordinary world where few people had midi- chlorians.
Even with help of the most experienced Mind Healers, Taren still could not remember how he arrived on that archaic world. None of the star patterns he sketched out could be found on any astro-nav chart.
He revealed how he emerged from a forest to save the life of the local king who then rewarded him with a noble title.
This surprised the Council; usually, a Jedi gives up any title of nobility, none had ever received it -- it was not permitted.
Taren explained how 'twas now his responsibility to care for the people and land of the demesne he had been granted. He was proud of the improvements he was able to accomplish. Improvements that would help ease the burden of his people living in such primitive conditions. He came to love the people and the land under his care, and he was happy there. Happier yet to be with a wife he loved dearly.
"Touched the Darkside you have, Knight Taren Savlon. Within you, it still lives," Master Yoda said as he looked at the young man standing before the Council.
"Aye, I have touched the Darkside," he nodded. "In order to help those I was responsible for. In order to save the lives of my people."
Before the Council, Taren admitted he had killed in a fit of rage, and would do so again should the need ever be so. He had no regrets over this. This was something that worried many on the Council. Some were afraid the darkness that was so willingly embraced would forever stain his soul.
The only thing that seemed to give him the least bit of solace was the constant presence of his old Master, and their daily sparring matches. His meditations only served to bring him more pain as memories returned to haunt him.
Even in his sparring, his Master could see and feel a change. His style had become more aggressive. Yet, the matches also served to help purge the dark emotions from him -- for a while.
Back in his own quarters, Taren continued to look at the blood-rose. Again, he could feel his emotions rising. Stopping the blood flow and healing the cut, he got dressed in civilian clothes and decided some fresh air and sunshine would help raise his spirits. He left no note for his Master, for quite often he would go off-Temple and wander the streets as if in search for something hidden beyond his reach.
@}--- @}--- @}---
Flora opened the door and bid her friend Healer Cress Oshan to enter. The healer was well pleased at her progress in adapting to her surroundings. She still shied away from some of the non-human members of the Temple. At first, she would freeze at the sight of some of the more exotic members of Jedi Council who came by to greet her, but soon she realized no one here meant to harm her. Indeed, she sensed they wished friendship towards her as they would slowly introduce her to some wondrous marvel she had only a vague memory of.
Although he couldn't begin to comprehend how, Oshan felt much of her successful adaptation came through her child's connection to the Force. Even though Flora
was doing a successful job of hiding her true feelings from others, the Healer could feel much anxiety and trepidation within her.
Flora was elated when told about her pregnancy. Many times, Oshan and others would see her in her favorite garden, softly speaking to her unborn child. As always, this would lead to tears. Even though she was not greatly Force-sensitive, the pain of loss and her grief were so strong that she unwittingly broadcast her feelings. Many Jedi could not shield it out completely; 'twas a heartfelt pain so deep it reached down into the very depths of her being. 'Twas the kind of grief that could slowly drive one mad.
Oshan looked around the small apartment she was given. Since she had been determined not to be a threat to herself or anyone, Flora had been granted a small apartment and a job of helping keep inventory -- a task she proved to be well capable of. The living quarters were immaculately clean. She wore knee-length tunics and trousers she insisted on making herself, by hand, no less. Her thick white mane was braided into a crown. She favored blues and white as her signature colors. She made friends easily enough, but preferred the solitude of the gardens during her off-time with her private thoughts and memories.
"How are you feeling today, my Lady?" Oshan inquired with a critical eye. He could see that she still wasn't getting as much sleep as an expectant mother should.
"I am feeling fine this day, Sir Cress. I thank thee for asking."
It became a familiar routine for Oshan to come by in the afternoon to escort his patient for a stroll around her favorite Temple garden for their counseling session. It was an orchard, much like one she and her husband would relax in after a long day.
During their stroll, Flora spoke more of her past. "...'Twas the Ghost Knight that murdered my brother. Since I was my father's only living heir, I inherited Falcon's Nest. My cousin, Sir Branyon, was castellan and thus responsible for the safety of the land and our people.
"The traitor could never be caught, for he covered himself and his horse with ash to look more the part. Many times he would strike out at us. He would burn the crops and slaughter our livestock." She lowered her head as the memories of one night came to her. "Late one eventide, we had word that the Ghost and his men had raided a small settlement. As the men and boys fought to save the crops from burning, the reivers attacked the village and set fire to the cottages. We lost many good men that night..." Her voice broke as tears welled up in her aqua-teal eyes. She looked out the window, seeing the destruction again in her memory.
"My Lord-husband flew after them," she chuckled. "Many believe him to be a sorcerer who brought with him the seastorm that put out the fires and chased away the reivers. Again, the Ghost Knight brought naught but fear and destruction to our people. Again, he slipped away. Several babes will be born because of that night." She finished in a whisper.
"But on a happier note," she borrowed a phrase she had heard. "Sir Talon became much loved by my people. When he saw the village grain mill was greatly in need of repair, he designed something new, the likes of which no one had even dreamed." Her eyes shone bright with pride. "He called it a 'Wind-mill.' It had great sails to catch the seabreeze. 'Twas the wind that did all the work of moving the millstone. Even the king himself heard about it and called Talon to his court to explain it! The king was much impressed," she smiled.
"Talon also enlarged the granaries. 'Twas a grand idea, for this year we had our most bountiful crop. If not for his foresight, much of the harvest would have been left to rot in the field during winter. Now, I know our people will not go hungry," she nodded.
"Sounds like your husband was a man ahead of his time." Noticing the befuddled expression upon her brow, Oshan clarified his meaning, "I mean, he had great ideas before anyone else could even imagine them."
"Oh, aye," she nodded in agreement. "He had many great ideas. Often times, by candlelight, I would watch him sketch out some new idea in the middle of the night. Or he would build a model of something so the men could see what they were building as he explained it to them."
They continued through the orchard, stopping now and again to inhale the exotic fragrances of rare fruit trees from across the Republic. A cold shiver traced down her spine. Looking around, she saw nothing and no one, yet felt certain they, she in particular, was being watched.
Next to her, Oshan felt her sudden unease. "Are you all right, Lady Flora?"
She nodded curtly, "Aye, I am fine." She continued telling more of her world as the afternoon wore on. 'Twas good to have someone to talk to, it helped ease her pain of loss -- a little.
For the rest of the afternoon, Oshan continued to feel her unease. Even though she denied it, he knew something was disturbing her, yet would not press the issue. She would tell him when she was ready. He knew some memories were just too painful to give voice to.
For the rest of their time together, Flora could not shake the feeling of being watched -- 'twas a feeling that could not be mistaken, nor forgotten. Even though she saw no one, she knew. 'Twas as though a ghost were watching her every move. 'Twas not the first time she felt thusly, but for the first time, she felt certain. Placing a protective hand over her child she sent a prayer for protection to the Great Spirit.
@}--- @}--- @}---
TBC...
Author: Rita Marx pinduck85@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 (WARNING: violence, but nothing graphic.)
Category: AU / Angst
Characters: All original with guest appearances by Masters Yoda and Yaddle, and a cameo by a seven year old Qui-Gon.
Summary: A Jedi Knight searches for what he lost and his sanity.
# Part 2 of 2 in the Second branch of the Portal Series. #
Please read Part 1 -- some things will make more sense.
Setting: Coruscant / Old Republic (pre TPM)
Generic Disclaimer: If you recognize it -- I don't own it. If you don't recognize it -- I probably do own it. And no, I'm not making any $$$ off this, the Cory the Cupid said Republic dataries are no good -- only real money.
Plot bunnies: =:'(@}--- and =:o and ===:) and =+:)
This is what happens when the angsty romance bunny and the song bunny mate.
Feedback: Please, my ego and my bunnies crave it. Flames will be nuked @=(
Archive: You want it? You can have it. Drop me a line so I can visit. :)
Note: //Telepathy.// Personal thoughts [Memories] Sounds ___Lyrics___
Author's note: Songs used (with some re-wording) are: _Always Something There To Remind Me_ by Naked Eyes, 1993; _Just Another Day_ by Jon Secada, 1992; _Obsession_ by Animotion, 1985; _Ordinary World_ by Duran Duran, 1993; _Come Undone_ by Duran Duran, 1993; _Hold Me_ by Mel Carter, 1965.
Author's Note 2: This is the first Star Wars fan-fic musical saga.
AN3: A big special thanks to my beta, Angel Sparrow.
+ ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ + ~ * ~ +
The sunlight twinkled off the traffic surrounding the Jedi Temple like daytime stars. Inside the office of Jedi Master Mind Healer Dorga Meador, the air was thick with grim emotions.
Jedi Master Naftel Ramer ran a hand through his lightly silvered, brown hair. Taking in another deep breath he turned his olive green eyes toward the Healer. "So you're saying there is still no improvement in Taren's condition?"
"That's right. If anything, his mental state over these past two months has gotten worse. He's in a state of severe depression, Naftel. There are periods where he's able to function as a Jedi. And then there are times where I begin to think I may have to start thinking about medication -- something I am loathe to do, but will if I must."
"His condition, that bad is it?" a gentle voice inquired.
"Not yet, Master Yoda," the Healer shook her head. "I believe somewhere, deep within his mind, he's able to acknowledge and fight what's happening. I believe with time and patience, I can help him."
The leader of the Jedi Council leaned on his gimer stick as he Force- scanned the young knight a few doors down. "Lost something, he has. Missing a piece of himself, he is. In danger of losing a good Jedi, are we." His long ears drooped slightly at the thought of losing a young Jedi Knight with much potential.
"Meditation doesn't seems to help any," Meador stated. She turned to her long-time friend Master Ramer. "I believe with your continued presence and our guidance, we can help him through this. He's not the first Jedi to go though depression. I feel confident he will make a full recovery."
"What do you suggest, Dorga?"
"I suggest getting him back into a regular routine. Get him back to thinking and acting and training like a Jedi. Surround him with our presence. To that effect, I think it would be best if he move in with you, Naftel. You were his Master, perhaps your constant presence will be what he needs to bring him back to us -- to be his anchor, so to speak."
Master Ramer nodded, "I'll do anything I can to help the man who was once my Padawan."
"I'll make arrangements with housing to get the next available double apartment," the Healer nodded.
"Done that, already I have," Master Yoda interjected. "Move out of your bachelor's quarters, you may now."
"Thank you for taking care of that for us, Master."
"Said anything about his time away from us, has he? For a nearly year, disappeared from us, he did."
Healer Meador shook her head, "Nothing that seems to make any kind of sense to me. He keeps calling for his 'life.' I don't understand what he means by this. His choice of words is significant -- it holds some meaning for him, but I can't get through his shields to understand. Sometimes he says 'life'; sometimes he says 'wife.' I just don't get it. And his speech pattern has changed. He uses Galactic Standard liberally sprinkled with words and phrasing that somehow seem archaic.
"It's been two months now since his return and we still don't have a clear picture of what happened to him," again Meador frowned.
"I'll keep an eye on him, Dorga. If I discover anything, no matter how small it may be, I'll let you know. I want Taren back as much as anyone. Perhaps more, since he's like a son to me."
The Healer nodded, "Perhaps together we can solve this mystery. I'll release Knight Savlon into your care immediately."
"Thank you, my friend."
@}--- @}--- @}---
"I'm glad you could make it, Cress."
"I'm glad you thought of me. This sounds like a very interesting case, Eura." The two healers, one Jedi, one civilian, shook hands as long-time colleagues and friends.
The two Mind-Healers settled down to talk business.
"Indeed. I'm thankful one of our workers happened to find her wandering around. She seems to have no memory of how she got here. Her manner of dress is not like anything I'm familiar with.
"She's very frightened of everything and everyone. She behaves as if she's lost all memory of the Republic and our advances. At first, judging by her manner of dress and speech patterns, I thought maybe she's from one of the more isolated planets in the Outer Rim, yet even *they* know how to operate a refresher and have seen a holo-picture.
"All I've been able to do is make her comfortable with a very rustic room of her own. She's having trouble accepting some of our most elementary conveniences. But, I will say, even though she is severely depressed, she's adapted quite well.
"I can feel the depth of her depression, Cress. The pain reaches very deep. And, I fear, she is slowly going mad for it."
"So, why did you call me in for a consultation?"
The civilian healer looked into her friend's eyes. "I believe the only thing keeping her somewhat sane is the baby. The child she carries is very strong in the Force. While not even three months old yet, I can sense the child."
The Jedi Healer looked at his childhood friend with a surprised light in his eyes. "With your sensitivity for the Living Force, Eura, you should have stayed a Jedi, rather than resign."
"It is exactly because I *am* so sensitive to that part of the Force that I felt I must leave. I can do more good for more people out here than I can in the Temple. I go where the Force leads me."
"I understand. As Master Yoda would say -- "
"Trust in the Force, one must," they spoke in unison.
"May I see the young lady?"
"Of course."
A walk to another level of the mental ward in Coruscant's finest hospital led to a small, sparsely furnished apartment. Those patients not deemed to be a danger to themselves were allowed their own quarters and privacy while under a Healer's gentle care.
After getting no reply to their knock and ring, Healer Eura Tap Force- scanned the room. Finding all was as it should be she led the way in.
Both Healers could feel the fear radiating from the figure huddled into a small bundle in a corner of the main room. Wrapped securely in a blanket the slight figure's distress could be felt even as they stood in the hallway. Closer now, they could also feel the presence of an unborn child reaching out, trying to calm its mother.
In answer to an unvoiced question, Healer Tap replied, //It's still too early for me to tell if it will be a boy or a girl.//
Kneeling down Healer Oshan could see the young woman in the curtained light. She turned to look at him as he placed a hand on her arm.
Her aqua-teal eyes were red, as was her nose, from so much weeping. Her waist-length hair, the color of white sea-foam, fell about her as a shield to protect her from the strange surroundings.
A light flickered, perhaps a little too brightly, in her eyes. "Where is my lord-husband? Where is Talon?" she whispered. "Where am I?"
"My Lady, I am Jedi Master Healer, Cress Oshan. I am here to help you find your way. You will come with me. I will help you find that which you seek... Will you come with me? Will you let me help you?" He waited patiently as he felt the young woman's turbulent emotions collide with one another.
Finally, she gave barely a nod. Oshan could feel the baby respond to his nearness -- respond with hope to another Force-sensitive.
@}--- @}--- @}---
"What is the young lady's name?" Healer Meador inquired.
"She gave the name 'Lady Flora, Countess of Falcon's Nest by the Sea.' I have cross-checked Healer Tap's research with our own archives and those of the Senate. There is no such place on file. Of the places which have a similar mode of dress there is, again, *no* match in any local dialect that translates as 'Falcon's Nest by the Sea.' Nor is there anything remotely close.
"Where she came from and how she arrived is still a mystery, Dorga."
The senior Jedi Mind Healer nodded as she looked over the data pad with information about their newest patient. "It could be that the young woman is suffering from some delusional illness, yet the med-scans reveal nothing. And there is no evidence of cranial trauma. For once, I'm glad Healer Tap decided to resign -- most healers would have her on heavy medication, which would certainly harm the child. I must call her and extend our thanks on their behalf." She shook her head, not knowing what to think of this strange case.
"Well," she said, returning the data pad to her Senior Assistant, "Proceed as you think best, Cress."
@}--- @}--- @}---
Jedi Knight Taren Savlon stared at his reflection in the mirror. His dark brown hair was a lot longer than it was when last he was in the Temple. He preferred it that way now. It served to remind him of all Fate decreed he leave behind. Not that he needed any reminders -- his heart would not allow him to forget, not for a second.
How could Fate and the gods be so cruel? he asked himself. In his pain, he slammed a fist into the mirror and watched as his blood slowly dripped into the sink. The dark red stain flowed into a familiar form as it oozed down the slope of the basin. The shape of a red rose took form. A single, perfect, rare desert rose. The symbol of something sacred; the symbol of something to be forever cherished. A rare gift from the gods. A rare gift to the heart.
How many times since his return, since being ripped apart from his life, had he thought of her -- his heart's mate. He felt his sanity slowly slipping through his grasp. How many times had he awakened in the night only to realize the feel of her soft curves and velvet lips was nothing more than a cruel memory. How many times? He long ago lost count.
Even after two months of counseling, his emotions were still raw. Many Jedi sought to avoid him when they felt his dark emotions roiling beneath the surface as he shuffled his way through the gardens. Slowly, he began talking about his life on an ordinary world where few people had midi- chlorians.
Even with help of the most experienced Mind Healers, Taren still could not remember how he arrived on that archaic world. None of the star patterns he sketched out could be found on any astro-nav chart.
He revealed how he emerged from a forest to save the life of the local king who then rewarded him with a noble title.
This surprised the Council; usually, a Jedi gives up any title of nobility, none had ever received it -- it was not permitted.
Taren explained how 'twas now his responsibility to care for the people and land of the demesne he had been granted. He was proud of the improvements he was able to accomplish. Improvements that would help ease the burden of his people living in such primitive conditions. He came to love the people and the land under his care, and he was happy there. Happier yet to be with a wife he loved dearly.
"Touched the Darkside you have, Knight Taren Savlon. Within you, it still lives," Master Yoda said as he looked at the young man standing before the Council.
"Aye, I have touched the Darkside," he nodded. "In order to help those I was responsible for. In order to save the lives of my people."
Before the Council, Taren admitted he had killed in a fit of rage, and would do so again should the need ever be so. He had no regrets over this. This was something that worried many on the Council. Some were afraid the darkness that was so willingly embraced would forever stain his soul.
The only thing that seemed to give him the least bit of solace was the constant presence of his old Master, and their daily sparring matches. His meditations only served to bring him more pain as memories returned to haunt him.
Even in his sparring, his Master could see and feel a change. His style had become more aggressive. Yet, the matches also served to help purge the dark emotions from him -- for a while.
Back in his own quarters, Taren continued to look at the blood-rose. Again, he could feel his emotions rising. Stopping the blood flow and healing the cut, he got dressed in civilian clothes and decided some fresh air and sunshine would help raise his spirits. He left no note for his Master, for quite often he would go off-Temple and wander the streets as if in search for something hidden beyond his reach.
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Flora opened the door and bid her friend Healer Cress Oshan to enter. The healer was well pleased at her progress in adapting to her surroundings. She still shied away from some of the non-human members of the Temple. At first, she would freeze at the sight of some of the more exotic members of Jedi Council who came by to greet her, but soon she realized no one here meant to harm her. Indeed, she sensed they wished friendship towards her as they would slowly introduce her to some wondrous marvel she had only a vague memory of.
Although he couldn't begin to comprehend how, Oshan felt much of her successful adaptation came through her child's connection to the Force. Even though Flora
was doing a successful job of hiding her true feelings from others, the Healer could feel much anxiety and trepidation within her.
Flora was elated when told about her pregnancy. Many times, Oshan and others would see her in her favorite garden, softly speaking to her unborn child. As always, this would lead to tears. Even though she was not greatly Force-sensitive, the pain of loss and her grief were so strong that she unwittingly broadcast her feelings. Many Jedi could not shield it out completely; 'twas a heartfelt pain so deep it reached down into the very depths of her being. 'Twas the kind of grief that could slowly drive one mad.
Oshan looked around the small apartment she was given. Since she had been determined not to be a threat to herself or anyone, Flora had been granted a small apartment and a job of helping keep inventory -- a task she proved to be well capable of. The living quarters were immaculately clean. She wore knee-length tunics and trousers she insisted on making herself, by hand, no less. Her thick white mane was braided into a crown. She favored blues and white as her signature colors. She made friends easily enough, but preferred the solitude of the gardens during her off-time with her private thoughts and memories.
"How are you feeling today, my Lady?" Oshan inquired with a critical eye. He could see that she still wasn't getting as much sleep as an expectant mother should.
"I am feeling fine this day, Sir Cress. I thank thee for asking."
It became a familiar routine for Oshan to come by in the afternoon to escort his patient for a stroll around her favorite Temple garden for their counseling session. It was an orchard, much like one she and her husband would relax in after a long day.
During their stroll, Flora spoke more of her past. "...'Twas the Ghost Knight that murdered my brother. Since I was my father's only living heir, I inherited Falcon's Nest. My cousin, Sir Branyon, was castellan and thus responsible for the safety of the land and our people.
"The traitor could never be caught, for he covered himself and his horse with ash to look more the part. Many times he would strike out at us. He would burn the crops and slaughter our livestock." She lowered her head as the memories of one night came to her. "Late one eventide, we had word that the Ghost and his men had raided a small settlement. As the men and boys fought to save the crops from burning, the reivers attacked the village and set fire to the cottages. We lost many good men that night..." Her voice broke as tears welled up in her aqua-teal eyes. She looked out the window, seeing the destruction again in her memory.
"My Lord-husband flew after them," she chuckled. "Many believe him to be a sorcerer who brought with him the seastorm that put out the fires and chased away the reivers. Again, the Ghost Knight brought naught but fear and destruction to our people. Again, he slipped away. Several babes will be born because of that night." She finished in a whisper.
"But on a happier note," she borrowed a phrase she had heard. "Sir Talon became much loved by my people. When he saw the village grain mill was greatly in need of repair, he designed something new, the likes of which no one had even dreamed." Her eyes shone bright with pride. "He called it a 'Wind-mill.' It had great sails to catch the seabreeze. 'Twas the wind that did all the work of moving the millstone. Even the king himself heard about it and called Talon to his court to explain it! The king was much impressed," she smiled.
"Talon also enlarged the granaries. 'Twas a grand idea, for this year we had our most bountiful crop. If not for his foresight, much of the harvest would have been left to rot in the field during winter. Now, I know our people will not go hungry," she nodded.
"Sounds like your husband was a man ahead of his time." Noticing the befuddled expression upon her brow, Oshan clarified his meaning, "I mean, he had great ideas before anyone else could even imagine them."
"Oh, aye," she nodded in agreement. "He had many great ideas. Often times, by candlelight, I would watch him sketch out some new idea in the middle of the night. Or he would build a model of something so the men could see what they were building as he explained it to them."
They continued through the orchard, stopping now and again to inhale the exotic fragrances of rare fruit trees from across the Republic. A cold shiver traced down her spine. Looking around, she saw nothing and no one, yet felt certain they, she in particular, was being watched.
Next to her, Oshan felt her sudden unease. "Are you all right, Lady Flora?"
She nodded curtly, "Aye, I am fine." She continued telling more of her world as the afternoon wore on. 'Twas good to have someone to talk to, it helped ease her pain of loss -- a little.
For the rest of the afternoon, Oshan continued to feel her unease. Even though she denied it, he knew something was disturbing her, yet would not press the issue. She would tell him when she was ready. He knew some memories were just too painful to give voice to.
For the rest of their time together, Flora could not shake the feeling of being watched -- 'twas a feeling that could not be mistaken, nor forgotten. Even though she saw no one, she knew. 'Twas as though a ghost were watching her every move. 'Twas not the first time she felt thusly, but for the first time, she felt certain. Placing a protective hand over her child she sent a prayer for protection to the Great Spirit.
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TBC...