Dantooine was a beautiful planet, acres of farmland stretched across the world — the stalks of crops swayed lightly in the gentle breeze. From what Ariv remembered, it was a calm and peaceful planet – however, none of the crewmembers actually felt that way. The Ebon Hawk was deathly quiet, the silence was punctuated by Bastila guiding Carth to the Jedi Enclave.
It was clear that everyone aboard was still reeling from what had happened to Taris. Mission had taken the loss of her home planet the hardest. The poor Twi'lek girl had spent most of their three–day trip from Corvis Minor IV crying and in a depressive, numb haze. Zaalbar and Carth had been the only ones who had been able to calm her down. While the Captain did not show it, Ariv could tell that the destruction of another planet in a tragic fate so very similar to his own home had affected him deeply. Even Canderous, a battle–hardened Mandalorian who had faced horrors in war had seemed shaken up.
Bastila had been quiet most of the time as well, still blaming herself for Malak's actions, despite whatever reassurances Carth and he had given her. Ariv himself had felt the loss of the planet deeply, it had filled him with rage and a sense of profound sadness.
A part of him still wanted to deny that he could use the force, but he knew it would be pointless. While their exit from Taris had been a blur for him because of his injury, he knew what had gone down in the hangar of Davik's estate had not, in fact, been a stroke of sheer luck. He did not know what would happen now, but he hoped that he would be called back to the fleet along with Carth and that their participation in the war would continue, but he remembered what Bastila had told him on Corvis, that she would speak to the Council about him.
It was the same excuse she had given Carth and the Mandalorian. The former was far more suspicious and nearly hounded the Jedi for answers, but gave up once he realised that Bastila would not reveal more.
In any case, speaking to the Jedi Council wasn't what he was uneasy about though – it was returning to Dantooine itself. The planet held mixed feelings for him – it was the place where he had healed from his wounds but also where he woken up to find that his memory had more holes than a Corellian sponge. It had been a year since he had been here – and he had learned that there were entire swathes of his life that might be lost forever.
Ariv sighed as the Jedi Enclave came into view. It was a round, short slate-grey building with tapering cuboidal bars protruding from four sides. Copses of tall blba trees surrounded the structure and a few people – citizens of Dantooine and members of the Order milled about on the dull twine-coloured walkways that wove around the building in the light of the setting sun.
The Ebon Hawk settled on the landing pad with ease and a few post-flight checks later the ramp hissed open. Bastila stood from the co-pilot chair, "Dantooine…" she began, her voice barely over a murmur, "it seems like a lifetime since I last set foot on her surface, though in truth it has only been a few months."
She sighed, "I shall go speak with the Council. I need their advice on... recent developments. After I have met with them I will meet you outside the ship," she addressed the last part to Ariv who nodded.
Carth looked at him then and said, "Finding a secure line here should be easy, I'll contact Admiral Dodonna and see what she needs us to do ahead." He too headed off the ship, leaving Ariv with Canderous, Mission, and Zaalbar. Teethree finally made his appearance from where he had been keeping Mission company and beeped inquisitively, Ariv sighed, "I don't know myself, buddy, we'll see what happens."
Teethree beeped once again and Ariv decided to stop by the Hawk's medbay to change his bandages. He flexed his fingers, the wound on his left arm had nearly healed, but numerous scars, both old and new, puckered his skin, marring the swirls of black and red tattoos that began at his wrist and covered almost the entirety of his arm, and rose all the way up to his shoulders and went halfway down his back. Both his arms were covered like this, but he had no clue where or how he'd gotten them.
Sighing, he wrapped his forearm with a bandage, the cool kolto bringing relief almost immediately, and then put on a shirt. Deciding that he ought to check up on Mission, he made his way to the quarters that she and Bastila had occupied in the last week. The Twi'lek girl sat quietly on the bed, looking off into the distance. Zaalbar was nowhere to be found, the Wookie had probably disappeared to give her some space.
"Hey Mish," he began, and Mission looked up sharply at the sound of his voice. Her normally bright blue skin looked like it had lost its colour and her features were drawn as a result of not eating properly in the past week. Her eyes were puffy from the near–constant crying, and his heart squeezed in sympathy. She was only a child, barely fourteen years old. She should've been somewhere in school making mischief with her friends and learning about droids but instead, she had been subjected to a harsh life on Taris and then watched her home world and everyone she had ever loved and known die with it. Her mood had hardly improved on Corvis IV, and he hoped that Dantooine would be different for her.
"Can I sit?" he asked tentatively and she nodded.
"How are you feeling?" He asked her quietly. The young girl swallowed. "Still terrible," she whispered, "I can't believe that the Sith were capable of such cruelty," her eyes welled up with tears again, "I mean – all death to find one person?! I just—" and she buried her face in her hands sobbing. Ariv immediately tensed, offering the girl a cloth and she accepted it after a moment, wiping her tears.
"I wish I could've helped," she said in between sobs, "Done something – anything, to help the Beks. Gadon, Zaedra — all of them are gone!"
"You did all you could," Ariv assured her, "There was nothing more that could've been done to save Taris, especially since the system was under the Sith's control." Mission sat for a few more minutes, crying her heart out and Ariv gently patted her head.
"And Bastila –" Mission began, her sobs having died down, "You were right! I shouldn't have blamed her for what happened. It was Malak — he was at fault! I hope he dies a most painful death," she hissed, still sniffing and wiped her tears angrily, "All of Sith – I hope their ships blow up in their face."
Ariv's eyebrows rose at her sentiments, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. If this was the way Mission was processing her grief, then he would not make it worse.
"They will get what they deserve," he agreed, "Come on, you need to get off this ship. You must be hungry, let's get you something that isn't the bland slop made by Hawk's synthesiser.
To his relief, the Twi'lek girl nodded and hopped off the bed, and they made their way outside the ship.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
The cantina on Dantooine wasn't like the ones on Taris, it was much more cleaner and low-key. That wasn't unexpected, after all, it was near a Jedi Enclave. Soft melodious music played in the background and patrons of all ages sat on the blba-wood stools, chatting over their drinks. The sound of rain pounding over the roof and walls wasn't annoying or disturbing, but it only complemented the scene. Mission sat on her bench, sipping hot chocolate and listening to Canderous who was speaking of his upbringing as a Mandalorian and his culture, in hopes of distracting her and cheering her up.
"The Mythosaurs are now believed to be extinct," he said, "The mighty beasts were tamed and ridden by Mandalore the Great. Their skull has become a symbol of pride and unity our people," he boasted, gesturing to the crudely made beskar skull glinting on his armour and Mission stared at it with awe, "The mighty beast's calcified bones were used by my ancestors to make our first cities and craft deadly weapons."
"Which weapons?" The Twi'lek girl interrupted, asking excitedly.
"The Mythosaur axe," Canderous answered, "A most rare and unique weapon, passed down in my family for generations — one I am capable of wielding."
Mission looked amazed by the entirety of the conversation, listening to the Mandalorian with rapt attention. Ariv smiled and looked and sharply looked up when the door swung open, revealing a slightly disheveled Bastila who stood in the doorway. A gust of cold wind entered the cantina, along with the scent of wet soil as the Jedi hastily closed the door behind her. She looked around the cantina, frowned when she saw him, and took determinant steps in his direction, dripping rainwater along the way.
Uh-oh, Ariv thought seeing Bastila's furious expression, he remembered their conversation on the Hawk, where the Jedi had said she would meet him outside their ship after speaking to the Council. In his defence, it had been hours since then and he couldn't wait forever. Ariv quickly got up from his seat, not wanting anyone nearby to hear their conversation, and met Bastila halfway.
Understanding his intent, she dragged him to a deserted corner and hissed, "Where have you been? I have been looking for you for the past half an hour!"
"Sorry," he answered, "I wanted to get Mission out of the confines of the ship, the open plains and general atmosphere of Dantooine seems to have helped her."
At this revelation the Jedi calmed down, "I see," she began awkwardly, "How– how is Mission?"
"Better, she's furious at Malak and the Sith for what happened – understandably so, but overall her mood seems to have improved. And, well, she feels guilty – about what she said to you. She realised she can't blame you for Malak's cruelty and Taris' destruction."
Bastila answered, "It's alright, she is a child who couldn't come to terms with her loss. I do not blame her, and in any case, I am glad she is faring better."
Ariv frowned, despite what she'd said, a part of Bastila blamed herself for what happened, "She's not wrong, you can't blame yourse–" Ariv began but Bastila cut him off, "—It is irrelevant, I know what happened. And besides, this isn't why I came to speak to you."
Ariv dropped his earlier line of questioning once he saw the seriousness on Bastila's face. Despite the fact that she was wearing a bright yellow poncho that dripped with rain water and she was half–drenched, the look on the Jedi's face made it obvious that there was an important matter she wanted to discuss with him — likely regarding what the Council's long meeting. But she looked like she'd rather not have this conversation at all, but she had to.
"I have spoken with the council; they request an audience with you. We should go at once," she said with urgency, "we must leave at once."
Ariv frowned but nodded, unsure about the impending meeting. Giving one last lingering look to where Mission and the rest of them were sitting, he followed Bastila out into the pouring rain.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
Ariv hesitated for a moment before entering the massive chambers, Bastila following closely behind. The Council chambers were massive and circular. Blba trees rose to the ceiling, which was an inverted cone-like structure. The chambers were dim, and four Jedi Masters stood at the end of the hall, having a hushed discussion that stopped almost as soon as they saw him.
Ariv immediately felt on edge.
The Twi'lek Jedi was the first to speak, smiling warmly, "Ah, so you are the one who rescued Bastila," the Jedi opened her mouth to argue but a single disapproving glance from the Master made her calm down.
"It is appropriate you are here. We have been discussing your rather special case. I am Zhar, a member of the Jedi Council. With me are Master Vrook," he gestured to a sour old man who looked at Ariv like he was the source of everything wrong in the galaxy, "Master Vandar," a member of a rare species, short with marsh green skin, weathered with age who nodded as Zhar continued, "And of course, the Chronicler of our Academy, Master Dorak." The Chronicler was older too, with deep brown skin and a perpetual frown.
Ariv nodded, waiting for the Council to reveal their decision.
"We wished to speak to you about your…abilities. Bastila has brought some interesting information to light," Master Zhar said.
He had no desire to speak to the Jedi, it wasn't that he hated them, it was just that he…resented their inaction during the Mandalorian Wars. Maybe if they had just been supportive, then the Republic wouldn't have been desperate, and it wouldn't have consolidated that much power in the Revanchist's hand, and perhaps this entire war could've been avoided.
"So you've drawn me into your little trap, Bastila. What now?" He hissed facing the padawan who frowned, "This is no trap. The Council just wants to talk to you. There is much that needs to be discussed."
Master Zhar interrupted, "Bastila tells us you are strong in the Force."
A cranky old man – Master Vrook interrupted before he could answer, "Master Zhar speaks out of turn, perhaps. We need indisputable proof of your strong affinity to the Force before we would even consider accepting you for training."
At his statement, Bastila argued, "Proof?" she asked, incredulous, "Surely the entire Council can feel the strength of the Force within this man... and I have already related to you the events that took place on Taris…"
Master Vrook answered quickly, "Perhaps it was mere luck."
"We both know there is no luck. There is only the Force," Master Zhar answered evenly, "We all feel the power in Bastila's companion, though it is wild and untamed. Now that this power has begun to manifest itself, can we safely ignore it?" he implored to the rest of the Jedi.
The rest of the Masters frowned and stared at him. He felt a prickling sensation in his head and winced, "What do you want from me?" he asked, bluntly. He had neither the patience nor the time for the Council to dance around the issue. If they wanted something from him, he'd rather they told him upfront.
Finally, Master Tokare spoke, "We are going to train you in ways of the Jedi."
Ariv stared at him before exclaiming, "Wait, what?! I am not a Jedi, but a soldier, you can't possibly ask me to become a-a hermit?!"
"Hermit?" Bastila asked, incredulous and furious all at once, "Being a Jedi is an honour. We are keepers of peace, guardians of the light–"
"Where was this when the Mandalorians ravaged the Republic? When millions were dying on each world?" Ariv countered.
Bastila's expression twisted and it was Master Dorak who finally spoke up, "Is it about our actions during the Mandalorian Wars then? That is why you refuse. I cannot say I'm surprised. You are not fit to become a Jedi."
"Master Dorak!" Vrook hissed, "You must think before you speak of such things. We have not even decided if we are to train him."
The Council turned their attention to him again before Master Tokare spoke up, "We should discuss this matter more fully in private. Bastila, you and your companion must go. This is a matter for the Council alone."
Ariv grit his teeth, anger building, the Council had debated and discussed for hours and still had not made a solid decision on whether or not they wanted him to become a Jedi. This was what he disliked about the Jedi, they always had to sit back and do nothing, just discuss issues rather than act on them. And that they wanted to make a decision about his life without even consulting him.
"Hold on!" He exclaimed, "The matter you wish to discuss concerns me, how is it that you can decide how my life is to go?" he protested.
"We do not wish to only discuss you," Vrook said cooly, "Our actions have consequences that affect the entire galaxy at large. You shall wait for our answers."
Ariv frowned, understanding the dismissal, a nagging sensation refusing to leave him. A part of him knew that whatever decision the Council would make, his life would not be the same. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head before walking out of the Council chambers without sparing them a glance or a word.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
"You ought to show some respect," Bastila said, nearly yelling to be heard over the sound of rainfall and thunder.
Ariv huffed, turning to face the Jedi that had come after him. She didn't realise how closely she had been following him and nearly bashed into him as he stopped. Stepping away she said, "Like I said, these Masters know more than you and I ever could. They are experienced–"
He rolled his eyes, "Do you truly think that they willingly took up arms to defend the Republic against the Mandalorians? And even now, the Sith's shadow looms over the galaxy, none of the Masters seem particularly occupied or keen on fighting them."
Bastila blinked, looking up at him, "They are dealing with this threat in the way they deem fit."
"Oh yeah, and what's that? Sitting in their cosy council chambers and talking? Mere talk does not win wars, sacrifice, fighting, and strategy do."
"What would you know about it?" she hissed, cheeks turning an angry shade of red. He could practically feel the fury that radiated from her, "You arrogant prick! Master Tokare fought in the war against Exar Kun and it was the Jedi that emerged victorious."
Ariv grit his teeth, "I don't have time for this. Carth said he would be speaking to High Command about what he and I are to do next. I have to find him," with that he turned around and walked away, not before hearing Bastila's warning.
"The High Command," she began, sighing, "Will do as the Council says. I suggest you make peace with that," Ariv's steps faltered and he turned to face her once again. She stood only a few paces away, hood drawn over her head to protect her from the howling winds and rain. Even in the darkened, wet, Dantooine night, he could see that she was telling him the truth. He swallowed, refusing to answer, and continued his journey to find the Hawk.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
Ariv knew he was dreaming, he had to be. There was this peculiar dream-like quality to what he saw – the blurred edges, thin lines across his vision, and how some details were…missing. He stood in front of a massive structure, thousands of years old, made with towering weathered rocks. The dull grey ruins had symbols etched onto them in a crude, alien language, describing tales of power and conquest. A massive door stood at the front, but it couldn't contain the darkness that had seeped into each and every crevice of the ruins.
"The dark side is strong in this place – I can feel its power!" A voice interrupted his observations and he turned to face the culprit, it was a young man, tall and built, with blue tattoos covering his head, and he realised that it was none other than Darth Malak – or at least what the Sith Lord must've looked like before he lost his jaw. He wasn't alone though, and he could feel the presence of steady, strong golden light, which was admittedly odd and entirely out of place.
"Is this wise?" Malak continued, hesitant, "The ancient Jedi sealed this archway. If we pass beyond this door, we can never go back. The Order will surely banish us. Are the secrets of the Star Forge so valuable? Can its power truly be worth the risk?"
A mask stared back a Malak and he needed a moment to register the fact that he was looking at Revan – the former Dark Lord of the Sith. Revan turned away from him and waved his hand and the doors opened with a screech, parting to reveal a large chamber. Ariv was too shocked to say–or do–anything, so he just watched Revan walk inside, noting the split-second that the Sith Lord faltered, pausing at the threshold. But any doubt disappeared within seconds as Revan stepped in, Malak following behind.
Moments later, Ariv awoke with a gasp, shocked at what he'd seen. Panting, his mind running miles a minute trying to figure out what had happened. He leaned back against his bed, already knowing the answer. It was the force, it couldn't possibly be something else. This wasn't the first time he'd seen something like this, but stars knew why he had been dreaming about a Sith Lord of all people again. Not even five minutes later, a series of quick knocks sounded on his door, filled with urgency.
"Open the door!" the voice said, almost panicked and shaky, and he recognised it to be Bastila's.
Ariv practically shot out of bed, hearing the alarm in her voice, worried sick that something might have happened – was Mission alright? Had the Sith somehow found them?
The men's dorm room hissed open revealing Bastila outside, hand poised as she though about to knock. "What?" he asked quickly, "It's five o'clock in the morning, are you alr—"
"—I am aware of the time," she snapped and he continued unfazed, peering over her shoulder, and then turning his gaze back at the Jedi, "—Is everything alright?" he questioned, frantic, "Has another world been attacked? Is it the Sith?"
His heart beat quickly, wondering what could have possibly gone wrong for Bastila looked like she had seen a ghost, her pale skin leeched of the little colour it had. In short, she looked like her night had been as lovely as his. A crumpled robe was hastily thrown over her nightdress, her hair was mussed, and her face had light pillow creases and curiously enough, she clutched her lightsaber in her hand, grip tight over the metal.
She opened her mouth to ask something but appeared to have changed her mind at the last minute and said instead, taking a calming breath, "You must freshen up, the Jedi Council will see you at six. Have breakfast, and kindly make yourself presentable," she sniffed, looking down at his state of undress. On hearing how disturbed Bastila had sounded, he had answered the door immediately, not finding the time to pause and put on a shirt or robe, but the Jedi took great offence to the fact that he was only wearing pyjamas.
Ariv stared at her for a moment, the adrenaline rush leaving him and it was then he realised how tired he was. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the tension headache he knew was inevitable.
"Are you off your damn repulsors?" he hissed, "Is this why you banged on my door like you were being chased by a Krayt dragon at the crack of dawn?' he hissed, 'Because I need to 'make myself presentable for the Council?' I thought that someone got hurt or the Sith had attacked!"
"Excuse me?!" she asked, offended, "Forgive me for trying to make sure that you give the Council a better impression than you did last time!"
"I don't care what the Council thinks," he said lowly, as angry as he was, he would not be the type of man who yelled at a woman, especially over something so trivial.
And well—he didn't particularly give a single kriff about what the Council thought, "They seem to have made up their mind on me and I have no desire to change it – I know they're as stubborn as a ronto in a rut!"
"I told you last night to be more respectful!" she argued hotly, "The Council has likely decided to train you — despite the warning signs—"
"Warning signs? What does that even mean?!"
"This! Your propensity to argue and how impatient and quick to anger you are!"
"I can literally say the same thing about you sweetheart, and you're the most important Jedi in the galaxy at the moment!"
Bastila's face was red, expression twisted in an oddly familiar manner and her eyes narrowed, "I am not the most important Jedi!"
Ariv scoffed, "Tell that to the Sith that have been hounding you for years and the Republic that would do anything to protect you."
That seemed to quieten the Jedi She huffed, taking in a shuddering breath, she was about to say something and Ariv knew it was going to be an apology.
He felt an immediate rush of shame, he couldn't expect the Jedi to know what he had been thinking and how he would react.
"Don't apologise," he said quickly, "I wasn't going to!" she countered and Ariv huffed.
"Look, just let it go…I'll be ready in time to see the Council."
Bastila paused, swallowing, giving him a once over, "Did you…did you not sleep well?" she asked quietly.
He hesitated, but Bastila bit her lip and tentatively probed, "Did you have a…vision…of Malak and Revan?"
At the mention of the content of his dreams, his head snapped up, shocked, "How– how do you know that?"
Bastila looked as horrified as he felt, "I..I don't– the Council! They – they can answer the question better than me." she said quickly, practically running away from him. Ariv tried to stop the Jedi but she had already disappeared down the long corridors. He gave up, knowing that it would be of no avail and because he wouldn't get any answers out of her yet.
?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ? ?￢ﾟﾡ?
Ariv sighed internally as soon as he walked into the Council Chambers, an hour later than their agreed upon time because the Jedi needed to further discuss recent developments after his and Bastila's shared dream.
The battle meditator was already there, as was the rest of the Council. They looked none too happy about him being here and frankly… he felt the same. What troubled him was the vision he had seen, a vision that Bastila had somehow known about.
While the Masters tried their best to hide it, he could tell that they were as uncomfortable as he was about the impending conversation — despite having debated over it already.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Master Vandar was the first to step forward and speak, "Bastila has told us of a most unusual development. She claims you and she have shared a dream, a vision of Malak and Revan in the ancient ruins here on Dantooine."
"These ruins have long been known to us," Master Dorak continued while Ariv stared at them, jaw dropped in shock at the earlier revelation of him and Bastila…sharing dreams, "but we believed them to be merely burial mounds. Perhaps they are more than we first suspected, if Revan and Malak found something there."
"Wait," he began, "Hold on, what do you mean– Bastila and I sharing a dream?"
At first, he'd (wrongly) assumed that she had read his mind or something, which itself was rather disturbing, after all, how else could she have possibly seen his dream? But to say that they had shared dreams instead was far worse.
Master Vandar answered again, "She says that she felt your presence within the dream, the presence she has felt within you ever since…"
"Master Vandar!" Vrook hissed, and the other Jedi Master fixed him with a cool gaze, continuing unfazed, "...Ever since Taris. It is not unknown for this to happen between two people strong in the Force."
"How….why…" he said, "Why does this matter?"
"Bastila has described this shared dream to the Council in great detail. We feel it is more than a dream. It is a vision. The Force is acting through you as it acts through Bastila."
Master Zhar added, "You and Bastila share a powerful connection to the Force... and to each other. This is not unheard of. Connections often form between Master and student, but rarely does a bond develop so quickly."
Ariv swallowed. He had known that he was force–sensitive ever since his and Bastila's conversation on Corvis, but he didn't really want to acknowledge that. Even the Council had spoken of it openly in front of him, but being sensitive to the Force was one thing, but apparently being…bonded to not just any Jedi, but perhaps the Order and Republic's most important one, was entirely another.
"Whatever dangers may lie ahead, we cannot ignore the destiny that has brought you and Bastila here to us. Together," Master Tokare continued, "You and she are linked, as is your fate to hers. Together, you two may be key to stopping Darth Malak and the Sith."
Before he could answer, Vrook interrupted, "But do not let your head be filled with visions of glory and power! Such thoughts are the path to the dark side. The way of the light is long and difficult, as you must learn. Are you ready for such hardship?"
Ariv frowned, he had no desire for glory as Vrook suspected. He hadn't joined the Republic's Navy so that he could become a hero. What he wanted to do was help protect the galaxy, but he did not necessarily want to do it as a Jedi. Even now, all he wanted was for the galaxy to be safe from the Sith, and well… together, you two may be key to stopping Darth Malak and the Sith….he couldn't say no.
Bastila stared at him from where she stood near the Masters, grey eyes pleading and earnest. She was the Republic's last hope and she was powerful, but she was only one person. And while her abilities were rare and incredible…there was only so much she could do.
The Jedi were really desperate if they were ready to train some random scout-turned-soldier who was far too old by their standards.
"Yes," Ariv said, shocking even himself, "I'm ready for whatever awaits me." If only to protect the galaxy.
The Council seemed relieved, as if they'd expected him to put up a bigger fight. He would have…but that galaxy was more important and they did not have the time to argue over this. It was time to act.
"Good," Master Tokare said, "It is well that you see how important this is and have the devotion to follow it."
"Understand that there is little choice in this matter, for you or us. Across the galaxy the numbers of our Order dwindle," he added, grim, "We have sent many Jedi in quest of a way to thwart Malak's advance... many have not returned. The Sith hunt the Jedi down like animals, ambushing and assassinating our brothers wherever they are found. We fear it is only a matter of time until they discover even this hidden refuge."
"How can Malak be stopped?"
"Perhaps our hope lies in the dream you and Bastila shared," Vrook explained, "The Council has come to the conclusion that you and Bastila must investigate the ancient ruins you dreamed of."
"When do we leave?" he asked, suddenly ready for the mission.
"Before we send you to investigate the ruins, you must be trained in the ways of the Jedi so that you can resist the darkness within yourself... within all of us. Otherwise, you are doomed to fail," Master Zhar said.
"We don't have time for this, Malak's fleet is advancing closer and closer to the Core everyday," He argued, annoyed himself.
The Jedi seemed to think they had all the time in the galaxy, how did they not realise they were fighting a war they were doomed to lose if they didn't do anything?!
"We are aware of the situation," Vrook answered, "The lure of the dark side is not easy to resist. With every word, you prove to us that you are not ready to become a Jedi." Vrook said again, disdain lacing his words, not even trying to hide his annoyance with the fact that some lowly non-Jedi had the audacity of being bound to his Order's brightest star.
Ariv opened his mouth to answer, outraged, and wanting to say that sitting and twiddling one's thumbs while the galaxy burns will not do anything before Master Vandar hastily explained, "You have a strong affinity with the Force. With such power comes great responsibility... and danger. You must learn patience and discipline. The ruins are a place of corruption. The dark side is strong there. We cannot risk sending you there unprepared."
"We must begin your training at once. You have a destiny upon you that you must be prepared to face. The entire fate of the galaxy is upon you," Master Zhar said, a sad smile on his face, and Ariv swallowed, nodding, understanding the burden placed on his shoulders.