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The Journey of a Thousand Steps
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| Kane | Date: Saturday, 05 Nov 2011, 11:50 PM | Message # 1 |
 Sergeant
Group: Users
Messages: 21
Status: Offline
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Mos Entha had been the duo's future, but was now its past. In the days since, things had proceeded according to Kane's plan, or rather to the plan that he claimed the Force had divined to him. To the probable discomfort of Castor, Kane, the weathered Jedi Master, had commandeered a ship from a merchant in Mos Entha but hadn't stopped there—using the Force to influence the poor man, Kane had also commandeered all of his valuables on the ship too, and had bartered them for credits at the three or four planets the duo had visited since leaving Tatooine without incident. Eventually, the ship was discarded in favor of another, and another. Each time, Kane ended up with more credits that, he said, would be needed for the journey ahead of them. That he had to liberate them from innocent bystanders was an unfortunate necessity, he said.
"At least they're being useful for a change," the Jedi Master had said scornfully of the merchants and spacers whose ships and other belongings he had commandeered, and who didn't have the gift of the Force and, thus, to Kane, were as good as useless. Back in the Jedi Temple, he had been reprimanded for his imperious attitude to the 'inferior' 'multitudes' that the Jedi Order was expected 'serve.' He had been fond of noting that a Jedi is worth ten average men in combat, and that removing 'in combat' from the sentence made it no less true. It was statements like this, incidentally, that had contributed to the unpopularity of the Jedi prior to and during the Clone Wars.
But it could be that in these desperate times, he was one of the last best hopes to defeat the Empire—a goal that he seemed strangely confident of accomplishing. To Castor, it wouldn't be immediately apparent how this plan of Kane's would accomplish it, and in days of traveling from one world to another, Kane still hadn't confided to him what the vision was that the Force had shown to him, and had compelled him to end his self-imposed exile and seek out Castor and others.
But Kane sensed it was one of these 'others' that brought them now to Nar Shaddaa. He had been in quiet meditation (as he had been through much of the flight) when the proximity alarm in the cockpit of the ship roused him from his reverie and indicated that they were fast approaching the 'Smuggler's Moon.' As he had on Tatooine, Kane left the piloting to Castor with occasional instruction on where to go. There was still some time before they would enter Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere, however; long enough for Castor to seek the answers to the questions that, no doubt, had preyed on his mind in the last few days. Kane had promised him answers, but had encouraged Castor first to meditate and, frustratingly, to "quiet your mind." The will of the Force was never apparent, Kane had told him—it might as well be a whisper that one needed to listen closely to hear. This having yielded few answers for Castor, however, now was as good a time as any for Kane to be more forthcoming with him.
Jedi Master Baldrick Kane
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| CastorVax | Date: Sunday, 06 Nov 2011, 4:16 AM | Message # 2 |
 Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 125
Status: Offline
| Vax was quite used to planet hopping, so the fatigue of travel affected him only slightly and indeed, he had taken Kane's suggestion to meditate to heart and could often be found doing such in his quarters. Their current craft was a CEC vessel whose model Vax had not bothered to discern. It was fast enough and armed sufficiently for their purposes. At the moment, Vax was coming to grips with a faint dislike of certain things the Jedi Master had displayed in his actions and words. Where Kane discounted those who could not tap into the Force, Vax, having held a combat command, knew differently. While one Jedi might be worth ten average men in combat, twenty or thirty average men could bring down one Jedi; even a master. As such, he respected the tenacity and determination of those Kane deemed inferior.
Nonetheless, Vax did have questions that needed to be answered before they landed. Nar Shaddaa, after all, was where Sturn and Vax had narrowly escaped from an Inquisitor. Breaking his meditation, he went in search of Kane. "Master Kane, if I might ask, what is this vision that has led us here? We have some time before we land and, if you'll forgive my presumption, I'd hope you could bring me up to speed."
Castor Vax
Jedi Knight
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| Kane | Date: Monday, 07 Nov 2011, 11:12 PM | Message # 3 |
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Sergeant
Group: Users
Messages: 21
Status: Offline
| Kane, seated on the cold metal floor of the ship's galley in a meditative pose, regarded Castor contemplatively for a moment as if deciding whether the time were right or if indeed it ever would be. If not, Kane reasoned, this was indeed as good a time as any, whether or not Castor was prepared to accept what the Jedi Master had to say to him. He sighed, closed his eyes, and began to relate what had happened and what he'd seen. "I listened closely to the Force in my years of seclusion, Castor. Very closely. I felt it becoming emptier as more and more of us perished. Emptier and, in a sense, darker. Surely darker, yes. But as with so many of us I felt there was nothing I could do—the tide had turned and it seemed sure to sweep us from history."
"But," he paused, the words not coming easily to him, "I started to be visited by a series of visions, as I told you." He opened his eyes and regarded Castor once more, an intensity in his eyes. "I saw them as clearly as I see you now," he went on, "And I know now that I glimpsed the future, Castor. The Force showed it to me so that I would know what I must do. Or, I suppose, what I'm destined to do. You must understand, the Force is out of balance. Palpatine and his 'New Order' have extinguished the light side of the Force—the right side of the Force. But the Force will right itself, and I've been chosen as its instrument to do so. And you too, Castor. We are the bailiffs of fate, and I have seen what that fate is to be. I've seen the Emperor cast from his throne and a wise and masterful Jedi seated in his place, as it should be and as it long should've been."
"Remember," Kane went on, reciting for Castor one of the more obscure tenets of the Jedi code, "'There is no chaos, there is harmony.' The Force works in mysterious ways, and it has revealed those ways to me. All of this now is familiar to me—all the places you and I have been and all the places we're going." He nodded toward the cockpit, where the proximity alarm struggled mightily for their attention. "Including Nar Shaddaa," he said.
Jedi Master Baldrick Kane
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| CastorVax | Date: Monday, 07 Nov 2011, 11:31 PM | Message # 4 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 125
Status: Offline
| It was a lot to take on faith; even for a devout Jedi Knight. As Kane would well know, Vax was strong in the Force, but his talents did not lie in certain areas; Vax had never received so much as a single vision. He was the combat arm of the Jedi; a general, a warrior and a man who had defended the Republic by wits and lightsaber as opposed to delving the mysteries of the Force. Indeed, while it all seemed so farfetched, it could only be true. The other possibility, that of Kane being misguided by the dark or having lost his mind, were too upsetting to contemplate.
"Then if we are custodians, what is there for us to do, Master? If we gather all the Jedi under your guidance and leadership, we are still not strong enough to hack our way through Coruscant and depose Palpatine ourselves. If this is familiar to you, Master, then I shall follow you as I always have. It's just... a lot to take in. While death is not to be feared, for the Force will cradle us, if we die in this venture, unable to see it to fruition... well, then the Sith triumph forever."
Moving quickly, Vax turned to the controls of the freighter they rode within. "Nar Shaddaa Control, this is freighter Alpha-Zulu-Zero-Niner-Niner-Eight, requesting clearance to land at any available pad." When granted the permission, he'd place the ship in auto-dock mode and wait to see if Kane had more to say.
Castor Vax
Jedi Knight
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| Karth_DeQora | Date: Monday, 07 Nov 2011, 11:40 PM | Message # 5 |
 Colonel general
Group: Administrators
Messages: 1157
Status: Offline
| Meanwhile...
"You're too focused on the present, never the future. You have no idea of the ramifications a single, small gesture can create."
It was a voice barely on the edge of memory, one of the many scattered recollections of a life--and a man--long since dead. To have lost so much and still have the courage to step out the door every day, that alone was a miracle to him. Countless nights he'd spent haunted by reoccurring nightmares, each more painful and more disturbing than the last, until he'd put the barrel of a blaster to his head. Anything, anything to silence the screams, the heart-wrenching sense of despair and loss he felt.
And every day the sun would rise, that blaster always found its way back to the endtable.
He wasn't entirely sure why he didn't pull the trigger when he had every reason to. Something, some abject feeling that ate away in the back of his mind, told him that his time had not yet come. That he was meant to be a part of something greater, whatever that might be. Vague though they were, those thoughts were what had staved off the madness and suicidal resignation thus far. He prayed that one day those thoughts might evaporate, so that he wouldn't have to live like this anymore.
As for the life he now led, it wasn't a pretty sight. Drugs, liquor, a squalid apartment in the Refugee Sector of the Smuggler's Moon and a growing tab at the nearby cantina. Barfights, sex, intense nightmares and an unrelenting sense of failed purpose. Nothing to indicate who this man once was: a proud and compassionate Jedi Knight. Now, operating under a fake name, the man who was Karth De'Qora now exists only as a shell.
"We have a future, we just have to fight for it."
A second voice, one that had also terrorized him as he slept. Feminine, draped in a mixture of tenderness and reluctant sadness, as if she was afraid to love him. Or perhaps she was just afraid of him, he'd never know the answer. He was sure she'd meant something to him in the past, whoever she was, and that he couldn't even remember her face was what continually hit him like a boot to the ribs. Wherever she was now, if she was even still alive, he'd never get the chance to tell her how sorry he was. Sorry for something he had no control over, but blamed himself for regardless.
The shuffling of boots against a grated floor drew his mind to the living, as the race announcer appeared at the edge of the swoop garage.
"Twenty minutes! Get yer asses to the starting line if you want to race."
He suddenly noticed the weight of the helmet in his hands, as if it had suddenly just appeared there. Such a simple thing, this helmet, yet it glinted in the bright lights of the Nar Shaddaan nightlife. The reflection staring back at him showed a man, tempered and aged by near ten years on the run; with deep auburn eyes and a slender jawline that tapered into a pointed chin. This was the man he'd become, a racer, a degenerate who lived from race to race, hoping that he might not survive his next.
If his past misfortune was any indication, Karth De'Qora would live for a long, long time.
Man, Myth, Administrative God. Also plays a mean kazoo.
Jace Varitek: In Northern California we just have gangs of vigilante interior decorators.
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