"Construction, construction!" wined a young voice. "You'd think that five years of re-building the place would give them time to finish the blasted building." A young man sat at the controls of the YT-2400, punching in coordinates to assure them a safe landing. His hair was dead black, layer over layer of it falling almost to his shoulders. His skin was tan, sign of being native of a warm-climate system, though is eyes were clear blue, enough to look like sheets of ice.
Behind him, a woman chuckled.
"You forget, young Lorum, that originally it took 100 years to build. Re-constructing a great-dome is no easy task." Lorum snorted smartly, turning back to face the woman. She was completely concealed in a large brown robe, trademark of their religion. He knew that, although not visible now, her face was young enough, with brown, waist-long hair framing her face. The hair served to conceal the delicately pointed ears he never asked about. Her eyes were a different matter altogether. Sometimes warm with laughter, other times sternly cold, there was always a hint of sorrow and bitterness behind the green orbs. Lorum had never learned why.
Ever since the computer had ringed-in that the Coruscant system was in view, she had pulled the large hood over her face, shadowing it. He had the faintest idea that it was return to the capital that made her uneasy.
"But that was-" it took him a moment to remember his lessons. "almost a thousand years ago. Technology has changed, evolved, since then." He shot a glance back at the approaching building, large enough to hold well over 10 000 people. He studied it for a while, forever amazed at it's grandeur.
He had been to Coruscant before, been to the First Jedi Temple many times, each one of them starting with the awe. People had told him the first time that it was a regular reaction, that he'd eventually get bored of the sight, but after well over a decade of living, training, and traveling to and from it's imposing walls, he was still filled with sensation when he saw it. The one thing that was always at fault was the roof. It was still only half-completed, it's beautiful marble-white surface cracked where it abruptly ended, about three quarters-way across. He couldn't see any people from this distance, but he knew they were hard at work, rebuilding the incredible monument.
Lorum had been there, the night the Temple had been invaded. Of course, he had been a child, incapable of helping, but he remembered the blood, the panic, and the evil. Men and women clad in black, swarming everywhere, drawing their dark weapons to maim the Jedi. Naturally, he had been whisked out of sight, but the short glimpses he had caught had been enough to set him off in feverish nightmares for the next few months.
With another long look, he sat back down in the control-chair.
"They should have it done," he mumbled in frustration. The woman behind him laughed affectionately again.
'Now approaching the Docking Bay,' announced the droning computer. That was one thing he had quickly become bored with.
Lorum's muscles tightened, as always when entering the hangar. That's where he had seen the Sith. Behind him, he could feel his Master tense, the Force surrounding her thickening, almost as a shield, while outwardly she calmly folded her arms and directed her now-cool gaze to the screen ahead.
"Please state your name and occupation," ordered a voice, coming from the message-box. The woman stepped forward to be able to speak clearly, and leaned over the small speaker.
"Jedi Master Aurel Telrambar," she replied, very near bitterness. She wasn't exactly infamous, but telling anyone from and on Coruscant her name had been a problem for the past five years.
"Continue." Aurel motioned with her hand to Lorum, indicating him to move forward and land. Slowly manoeuvring so that the tip of the wing-blade didn't hit the sides, he switched on the landing commands, letting the ship automatically flip open landing pegs, adjust the pressure and so-on. He got up and moved towards to the hatch before being stopped in his tracks by gentle, unseen bonds.
"Right," he said, trying to turn back without realizing the impossibility of motion. For an odd reason, he was proud that his master was deft to the point of unconsciousness with the Force, and devilishly fast with a lightsaber. When she was supposed to be teaching him to do all these things, and him being proud of her, made no sense whatsoever, but the emotion was still there.
Lorum supposed Aurel threw his brown cloak, a lighter shade than her own, to him, since it draped over his face, blinding him with it's colour.
"Maybe I should glue it to you, next time," she said, almost forcefully comical, "Then you wouldn't forget it and present quality entertainment for the majority of the Temple." Despite her tight tone, Lorum laughed. "Aaand," The way she drawled on was enough to want him to punch her in the arm, like he used to with his old friends. "it would give you practice; warding me off without actually being able to move." That hint, that allured to his troubles controlling the Force of late, made his cheeks burn. He could seize it, direct it, but right before releasing it to his intentions, it would slip and lash out. He had tried to explain it, but Aurel could not grasp the concept that a disembodied power could be slippery.
"Aren't you the wise cracker," he said, while straightening the robe and shrugging into it. "While you're at it, could you sew-up the patches in our spares?" He was lucky that she had already tapped the commands to open the hatch, because the look she had flashed him echoed murder.
The hatch ran open, showing them a scene of activity. People dressed in the varied shades of Jedi uniforms and robes were about, checking ships and the odd groups making repairs. There were also droids around, a lot of them. In almost every shape, function and size imaginable, they zipped about doing their programmed task.
As customary, Aurel took the first steps out the ship, closely followed by Lorum. They knew where to go for instructions, even though it had been five years.
'As if we were first-timers into a maze,' bitterly thought Aurel while making her way to the controls room.
*******
In another room, at the other end of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, a vigorous training was in session. Four people were in a secluded room, four robes discarded near the walls, four lightsaber belts not-so-neatly piled besides them, four sweaty beings going at their task with all there was in them.
A pair of padawans with their masters, going through the old forms of skin-defence. At the beginning, it had been a good way to sharpen the padawan's concentration, but at their level, it was to keep them in shape for the harder charge. The masters were there to not only keep their strength and focus sharp along with their padawan learners, but to make sure the exercise was done properly, and to stay fit themselves. This pair was particularly strong, with rapid learning abilities.
"Always remember to feel the Force while in motion," one of the masters said, her eyes closed. Strikingly intense blond hair was tightly pulled to the back of her head, to make sure it did not get in the way. Her arm-muscles were incredibly defined, more so than the man beside her. His hair was darker, although still slightly blond. His shoulders were wide-set, his hands callused with use. He nodded at the woman's words.
"Listen to Master Ivie, both of you. Never let the Force slip, even when you are practicing things that should not outwardly involve it." Sweat trickled its way down all their faces, sign of a long session.
Abruptly, one of the younger ones laughed. The two Masters stopped their exercise to look at their padawans flatly. Ivie's eyes were sea blue; green swirled in blue. The man besides her had amber eyes, those of a wolf.
"And what," Ivie paused sharply, "is so funny, Sensae?"
"Valesse?" the man inquired roughly to the female learner. They both kept giggling as the explanations poured out.
"Master, it's all Valesse!" cried Sensae, pushing his oddly deep-blue hair from his face, to reveal the same shade eyes. "She was mindlinking me crazy thoughts!"
Ivie couldn't help but laugh quietly at the exaggerated tone her padawan's voice. So young he had been when she had first met him. He had grown since then, almost ready to be Inspected.
During the Golden Age of the Jedi, so many younglings and children would come to the closest Jedi Temple of their system to report odd happenings concerning their children, or just to see if they were able to achieve the rate of control of the Jedi. Because there were so many, and- highly abnormally- with high potential and learning rates, it became impossible to make sure every one was ready for their Trials, let alone know if they would pass, or even survive. So the Inspection was created.
In the more busy Temples, there would be a period of time when all the higher-ranking Masters would be open to Inspect the prospect Jedi. An Inspection was the step before the Trials now; without the 'O.K.' from a Council Master, a padawan hadn't hope of passing the Trials. A mini Trial, even, just to see if the padawan learner was up to speed.
Ivie was brought back from her flashed thought by Valesse's hysteric retort.
"Well! Admit it! It was funny!" Her brown hair resembled brown sugar, her eyes a deeper shade.
"And what would the image have been?" the man intoned in his deep, stone voice. There was plain hesitation on both the padawan's faces now.
"Master Ardus," Ivie intervened, taking on the mocking voice of a lecturer. Ardus' eye flickered towards her amicably. "Maybe a few hours, maybe days, of extra kitchen-scrubbing will change their minds." Before she could complete the end of her sentence, images transferred into her mind through the mindlink she shared with Sensae. She guessed the same has been done between Ardus and Valesse, judging by the shocked look on his face.
"Maybe they should get it anyway..." he mumbled. His eyes were blurred, sign that he was studying an image inside his mind. It was Ivie's turn to burst into laughter. Through the link she had with her padawan, she could feel Sensae become wary and shy. Still he had much to learn.
"Ardus, lump of kah! How to punish them of a crime we got away with as padawans?" She stared at him, eyes watering with mirth.
They never had time to discuss the issue further, for then a beige-clad youngling ran into the chamber.
"Master Ivie! Master Ardus!" he said while trying to regain his breath.
"Take a moment," said Ardus in a patient tone. It took more than a moment for the anonymous padawan to be able to stand properly.
Finally he bowed as was proper, and turned to Ivie, saying: "Forgive me, but I was told this was of particular interest to Master Ivie Loki." When Ardus nodded and turned to round up the padawans, he continued. "Knight Link told me to pass on that there is a Master Aurel Telrambar in the Main Hangar."
Ivie closely considered his words. It had taken her a few moments to recognise the name he had given her. Master Aurel Telrambar, if Master was what she could be called. Five years ago she had committed a deep crime, by the standards of the Jedi and of her own system and people, but she had been allowed to move up to Master rank. Five years ago she had disappeared to the Outer Rim with a young padawan, claiming that he was unique. Five years gone without much as a by-your-leave, and now she was back. Master Aurel indeed.
Without showing any emotion on her face, Ivie nodded in acknowledgement to his message.
"See that Master Aurel and her padawan are showed to their respective quarters," she said as an order, "And tell Master Aurel that I would like to speak with her at the Green hour." Without asking what the 'Green hour' was, the padawan dashed out.
Ivie turned back to Ardus, who- although still sweaty and stretched from the exercise- had taken up the posture of First Master of the Temple. As his second, Ivie was distantly aware that she had taken up the same stance; cool and impenetrable. Such was the public view of two of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy.
'A formidable man,' thought Ivie as she walked towards her old friend.
"And?" he asked. Ivie took her time and looked around, seeing that Sensae and Valesse had been sent away, probably for well-earned free time.
"Do you remember a certain Aurel Telrambar?" she replied, asking a question of her own.
"Vaguely," Ardus replied, wary. Although five years was not very long, Ardus had not been First back then, therefore had had no say in the woman's fate.
"Well, apparently she's back," Ivie replied simply, and had a muted instinct to laugh at the surprised and almost...scandalized look that crossed his face.
"Well, we'll have to deal with her then."
All Ivie had to do was nod. This woman- this Master Aurel- had done the worst thing imaginable, and was now going to be 'dealt-with'. The problem was, not many knew or remembered what she had done.
