Private Ossus Academy Days

Sanjuro

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Mandalorian Clans
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The training room had been sealed for hours, though Echuu had remembered to bring nourishment. Much like the training rooms at the old Praxeum on Yavin IV, the ones on Ossus also had elevated observation areas. The grizzled Jedi Master didn’t mind the spectators, though he did prefer for his own training regimen to be private. Several students had indeed gathered to watch Echuu push himself and his sparring partner to their limits. A fellow Academy instructor, Togrutan Jedi Master Arco Jeeth. A skilled in the more aggressive Juyo form as Echuu was at Soresu.

Sweat poured off of Echuu’s forehead, his breathing heavy and robes in various tatters from the combat. Arco stood in similar condition about eight feet away, each man’s gaze locked upon the other. The once-neat topknot atop his head had turned into a mess of stray hairs, several stuck to his face from the sweat. Echuu raised his blue blade once more, tightening his two-handed grip on the hilt, and set his jaw firm. Strong in the Force, he was at the point of using the Force Body technique in order to continue the fight. Arco was powerful, but his defenses left much to be desired from Echuu’s perspective.

Arco read the cues that his partner was ready and bounded to close the small gap between them, launching a flurry of attacks. Much like the flow of water in the room of a thousand fountains, Echuu remained fluid, smoothly blocking each attack as it came. Arco’s footwork was getting sloppy, and he had begun to make mistakes. While Echuu was bordering on exhaustion, there was still enough left in the tank to seamlessly slip from defense to attack. The transition was almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, the ease at which Echuu had changed forms. It all relied on economy of motion—the momentum that Arco had built up was turned against him with efficient precision.

Echuu took no mis-steps and pressed the advance, slowly backing Arco up. A look of grim determination plastered Echuu’s face, his two-handed grip had turned to one, his attacks concise and clean. Arco struggled to bat away them all, prompting one too many mistakes on his part. With a dull shout, Master No-Ainu flicked his opponent’s lightsaber from his grip, and held the business end just millimeters away from Arco’s heart with measured restraint, just long enough for Arco to acknowledge the defeat before disengaging the brilliant blue blade and letting his hands fall back to his sides at rest. He sharply exhaled a sigh of relief and let his shoulders slump slightly. ”Well-fought, Master Jeeth,” Echuu rumbled in complimentary fashion. ”I would offer to revitalize you, but you insisted upon testing our limits.”

The Togruta smirked, using the force to call his lightsaber back to his hand. Arco clipped it to his belt and nodded—still panting. “Indeed. Boy, I could eat a whole Bantha about now.” Echuu put his own lightsaber away and nodded in agreement, still short of breath himself. As if on cue, the pair plopped down to sit on the hard stone floor, both at the point of exhaustion. Echuu could feel his muscles starting to cramp up, not having exerted himself quite that physically in some time. Teaching the students the basics of combat was one thing, but furthering one’s training was another entirely. Only the likes of another Master could match his tempo and ability. Even then, there were few known in the entire Galaxy with his understanding and practice of Soresu. It worked far more frequently than it didn’t, tiring one’s opponent out and waiting for them to make the fatal mistake. But it required perfection of ability and incredible patience.

He could still feel the onlookers’ presence in the observation deck above them, but Echuu no longer cared. Rather, he hoped they took something of a lesson out of it. Many other of the Masters and Knights preferred to spar with training droids, but they had always seemed somewhat predictable to him; nothing compared to a truly sentient opponent.
 

Salt

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New Jedi Order
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Ossus was.. different.

The Temple undoubtedly was a safe place: it housed her people, her kind. But it wasn't Yavin IV. It wasn't home.

Still, Chandra found herself returning time and time again, whether called by the Council or of her own volition. Perhaps someday it would become more than a pit stop on her travels throughout the galaxy, a place to properly hang her kit and relax. But for now, even the simplest of assignments inspired a slight pang of inconvenience, though she knew the intentions behind such things were quite clearly in her best interests. Reconnect, they instructed her; wash the darkness away with the company of others. Meditate. Learn. Grow.

It was sound advice, but it was difficult to deny there were more pressing matters at hand. The Senate, the Sith, everything seemed to be shifting, changing in all the wrong directions for all the wrong reasons. To sit idly by, sequestered on Ossus as the Galaxy churned filled her with a desire to get up and do something, an innate desire to impose her will on the goings on around her. How that would come to pass, Chandra wasn't so sure. Perhaps that was the benefit of meditation - a requirement for all Jedi who sought entry to the Temple - or why the Council had asked her to take some time off and reflect on her latest assignment with the company of a fellow Master.

It seemed only fitting that he would be teaching - perhaps not leading a class, but allowing learners to sit in on a match between Masters was bound to be an illuminating experience - and that their appointment, if one could call it such, would take place in the time that came after. But Chandra, for all her reservations and eagerness, had patience in spades; more than that, she had the free time to drop in and observe from above, well-prepared for the time it would undoubtedly take the two Jedi to wear through each other's defenses. A canteen of water sat at her feet, while a bowl of rice and steamed greenery, fresh from the mess hall, rested comfortably in her lap.

The learners gasped and cheered as the old Masters fought, but Chandra remained quiet, seemingly more interested in her lunch than the ongoing battle. She was paying full attention, of course - but the young ones were witnessing something utterly new, a culmination of an entire lifetime spend following the Force. It was an awe-inspiring thing, no doubt, and it would've been a lie to claim her heart didn't race to see their sabers swinging, filling the air with the scent of burning ozone. That Master Jeeth tasted defeat was of little surprise to her - Echuu was as patient as she was, if not moreso, and his techniques with a blade matched his steadfast approach to most things. It was a difficult match, but if one could outlast the explosive aggression Master Jeeth's chosen form was known for, victory was all but assured.

In time, the seats above the chamber emptied out, the Temple alight with excitement in the wake of their battle. Chandra remained until the last student disappeared behind the stone doors, at which point she draped her arms over the guardrail, leaned down, and shouted to the Jedi Master down below.

"Not half bad for a fossil, eh." There was no smile on her lips, only the barest hint of a wry grin as she propped her elbow up on the rail and rested her chin in her palm. "You okay?" Asked as she judged the distance between them, considering the height of the seats and how it might feel to jump down. "Need healing?"
 

Sanjuro

Initiate
Mandalorian Clans
Faction Leader
The voice from above came, it was not as youthful, bright, or familiar as the rest of those he knew had gathered. That the Jedi Shadow had slipped in unnoticed was not lost on Echuu, though her presence here was something of a question. Unwilling to move his body one iota to fire back his retort, ”I still have more than enough for putting a young pup in their place,” boomed and rumbled as his voice often did; though the stone around them didn’t hurt to carry and reverberate it. Quite an effective tool for a Teacher. Not that Chandra Valle had been one of his students. If she had been, perhaps she wouldn’t have come out quite so…mouthy.

After a moment, he stretched his neck and arms. Jeeth had started to get up, now that the peanut gallery had arrived, and offered a hand for his compatriot. Echuu took it and stood with the help of his equally-aged fellow, who took his leave of them directly. About that time, Echuu’s own senses came back to life, namely his sense of smell as that of her food finally hit his nostrils; just as he turned around to face the balcony from which his fellow Master had heckled him. Those who made Master as young as she did were typically quite gifted—and they usually knew it too. Too often they tended to peak early and suffer under their own devices for too long before seeing wisdom.

Chandra seemed to be the exception to that so far, but he disagreed with her function. Being a Shadow was a trial for even the most convicted of their kind, to allow someone of her stature to serve as one seemed short-sighted at best and purely negligent at worst, but it was not his to question the wisdom of the Council. Though he was a Master of some seniority and tenure, Echuu hadn’t the first desire to be on the other side of the Council. It was his to trust and accept their judgment, though that didn’t mean he couldn’t question it. The downfall of many was blind obedience. Another tick in Chandra’s favor as far as Echuu was concerned; a free-thinker.

Such things came with the inability to restrain one’s self from being a wise-ass. It served only to make “Grumpy Old Master Red Beard” as he had heard the students call him behind his back (among other things) fulfil his stereotype. Echuu took only a moment of staring hard at Chandra in the spectator’s section, glowering daggers up at her as he was apt to do, before using a piece of his reserves to leap up to the balcony—augmented by the Force. Over the railing, if only just, the exhausted Master landed on his feet nearby her—if only just. Sure, he still had plenty left in the tank to grapple. Or he would, after a bite of food.

Still glowering down his nose at her, Echuu slipped both arms inside of his large robes, folding one over his abdomen and the other up through the outer robe to stroke his beard thoughtfully. ”I trust all is well…” He let the words trail, knowing that few ever sought him out for his company; and fewer still had pleasant business when they needed a healer or archivist. Let alone whatever business a Jedi Shadow could have. Echuu could have simply reached out through the Force to try to get a read, but it was simpler to have a conversation. Shadows could mask their presence, their true feelings and emotions better than the average Master. Part of their function required subterfuge, required less than honesty. Could he take her at her word anyway? It was possible. But if Echuu couldn’t trust her words or her presence in the Force, what left was good faith and their shared service to the Jedi Order.


 

Salt

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If there was a greater pleasure in the galaxy other than food, Chandra had yet to find it. Even something as simple as rice and vegetables was a delight: both crunchy and soft, with a slight shimmering of seasoned oil clinging to the leafy bits, she devoured it with equal parts eagerness and appreciation well before the Master made his ascent. Ossus' cantina was better than what they had on Yavin IV, but anything fresh was a welcome change from the synthesized garbage she inevitably found herself forced to consume. Even frozen, nothing lasted long enough to see her through the length of her travels in the Outer Rim, but a desire for something more than nutrient paste made returning to the Temples more than an obligation. Chandra wondered if the Council knew; it always seemed as though their summons aligned perfectly with the emptiness of her ship's pantry..

"As well as it can be," she replied, raising her shoulders in a small shrug. Space travel was exhausting in ways she never quite understood, leaving her all at once restless and sore and exhausted, unable to decide whether or not it was best to return to her ship or sit and stay awhile, to remember what it felt like to move in something other than artificial gravity. Seeing the Temple made her yearn for the yard where young Knights and Padawans honed their skills, climbing nearly sheer surfaces by the tips of their fingers, launching themselves across vast distances with only their wits and the Force to guide them. Being so close to Masters Echuu and Jeeth made her long for more dangerous training exercises, and part of her wondered if there would be time for such indulgences. It worried her that she might find herself called away before she could be tested, that she might leave without some critical knowledge of her own shortcomings, and suffer the consequences for it.

But worrying was wasted space, wasted energy. Exhaling, Chandra shook her head and turned to face him better, wondering if he really had it in him to take her to task right this moment. Maybe. But she had no regrets about her behavior on Dxun, nor did she feel herself swayed by the darkness she had encountered there. Still, it was good to talk it out, and contrary to his belief he was her first and only choice for the task. The grumpy old Master was one of the few who could be counted on not to sugarcoat things, and she liked that about him. Tough but fair - it was a wonder why he wasn't on the Council already. "I've come to give my report on the cultists on Dxun, if you have the time."
 

Sanjuro

Initiate
Mandalorian Clans
Faction Leader
At the mention of making a report to him, one eye closed entirely and his expression soured even further, complimented by a slight cant of his head to one side. The hand kept stroking his beard as he considered the statement. Only the junior instructors, archivists and healers reported to him. A Jedi Shadow and fellow Master had no need to report to anyone but the council. The realization that she was troubled struck, though Echuu continued to give her the stink-eye for just a moment longer to send home the notion that he had some understanding of the gravity of her apparent situation. He also understood fully the exhaustion of space travel. Echuu disliked flying in general, and preferred to leave it to the droids. Though, he also understood the necessity of it.

Only a moment, and it gave way to a most amused smile while his head returned to an upright position. ”Certainly,” he said. Though to an archivist, not enough time was in existence to pour through volumes and volumes of history, or study and catalogue recovered artefacts and other things that probably weren’t of any importance or significance; but one didn’t know until they studied it. In truth, that was what had amused Echuu; that Chandra would ask an archivist and instructor if he had time.

Echuu turned to get the attention of one of the students still lingering around. ”Would you do me a tremendous favor, and prepare a tray from the cafeteria then deliver it to my office? Thank you, Padawan.” As the Padawan scurried off to do so, Echuu jerked his head for Chandra to walk with him. The pace he kept was slow, almost meandering, and he had started to noticeably favor his left leg. Though, that was hardly reason to walk with such a low gait. In truth, Echuu wanted to give that Padawan time to do as requested. Moreover, it wasn’t exactly common practice for him to have students do things like that, though knowing what some of them said about him when they thought he was out of earshot did much to assuage any guilt associated with it.

From the training annex to his office in the archives wasn’t far, another end of the unusual ziggurat and on another level. Perhaps a few minutes at a healthy clip. It was late in the day, and most classes were concluded; the shared leisure hours for most instructors, students and visitors alike before lights out for the padawans, thus foot traffic was rather heavy. Another reason to not be in a hurry. The entire walk, Echuu kept both arms inside his robes, one hand on his beard as he studied the crowds. It wasn’t long before he reached the archives, nodding to the archivist on duty as he passed through to his office.

The door gave way to a modest working space, a desk covered in datapads and paperwork with a terminal; the prepared tray from the cafeteria waiting for him atop the mess. Opposite the desk was a pair of comfortable chairs and a place to prop one’s feet up. There was a refresher compartment on the far wall behind another door, and various artefacts put on display throughout. It would be apparent to anyone that Echuu fell asleep reading pads in the chair more nights than he made it back to his quarters. As such, the other archivists knew pretty well to knock before entering, for fear of disturbing the sleeping grump.

Once he heard the door close behind them, Echuu slid both arms back out the arms of his tunic, and gestured toward the lush and inviting seating while he moved to put on a fresh pot of hot tea and seat himself at the desk to start working on his much needed meal. Ossus was fortunate enough to have fresh food prepared rather frequently, as the cloister was mostly self-sufficient. It hadn’t been that long ago that it was under siege. Repeatedly. Ossus had been and always would be his home; he had put bricks in place here and sorted out the archives himself. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed being out on missions any less. It was more that his mission was here, until otherwise notified or circumstances changed.

There was never any shortage of work for Consulars.

”At your leisure, then,” he rumbled out before he started on the tray of food before him. Eating was certainly one of life’s great pleasures, though Echuu rarely ate for pleasure; preferring sustenance and function over form factor. In truth he hadn’t even known that she had gone off to Dxun, though he had several questions before her story even began. There was something different about Chandra, even, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. From off-hand, he knew that Dxun was very old, and a Mandalorian world albeit abandoned to his knowledge. That a Dark Side cult would choose that moon for a place of worship was unsurprising; it was a world mired in the Force from thousands and thousands of years ago. Beyond that, he would need to reference his notes and have time to think on it, but his questions could wait; likely to be answered with her story anyway. Though it wasn’t the Dark Side that had marked her from Dxun…
 

Salt

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New Jedi Order
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There was a certain kind of labor involved with listening to the retelling of one's exploits that Chandra was not oblivious to, and whether or not he had the time - or energy, or interest - to perform it was a genuine concern. It was good to listen to the details, to construct a timeline of the events as they were spoken, but it was just as critical to keep an ear out for the things left unsaid - something that, as a Shadow, had become second nature. The Council's suggestion was as much for their benefit as hers: perhaps a second set of ears would bring new information, new perspectives; and perhaps it would alleviate the burden that seemed to rest so plainly on her shoulders. She met his side-eye with a patient look, careful not to turn her attention away. She was no meek Padawan hoping to practice past curfew, but rather someone who - despite her reluctance to admit it - sorely needed his assistance. Despite their respective roles he wasn't obligated to help her, though his acquiescence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I appreciate it," she nodded as he relented, rising along with him. Part of her considered asking the Padawan to take her bowl as well, but the moment passed. Shouldering her pack, she followed Echuu as he took his time navigating the ziggurat, pausing only to place her empty container on a small, automated cart devoted to collecting used utensils and the like from absent-minded learners who left their dishes and glasses behind. It was almost entirely empty, Chandra noted, save for a pair of teacups and a half-eaten pastry. It always seemed as though the cleanup droids on Yavin IV had their work cut out for them, though perhaps it had more to do with the jungle climate and vicious weather than the Temple's residents.

That their pace was almost ridiculously relaxed was just fine by her, gray eyes slowly scanning the interior as if trying to remember from her last visits what sat behind every door. It allowed her to avoid the prying stares of older students as they passed, astute enough to realize she was indeed a Jedi Shadow, and a rare sight on Ossus. It dawned on her then that there were so many learners, now. And yet despite the resilience of the Temple and those in it, the list of Masters was still so small. A small twinge of guilt stirred inside her, something she silently resolved to do something about, once they were through. But there was much to discuss before then.

Echuu's office was not entirely unknown to her, but it had been some time since she had taken more than a passing look at his study. It matched her memory a little too perfectly - the gently cluttered desk, the inviting chairs, shelves full of trinkets and son on - but she had no interest in questioning why his office looked more like a home than most Jedi quarters did. It was clear he spent quite a bit of time here, and as she lowered herself into one of the chairs it seemed as if a great weight already eased itself off her slender shoulders. It was the most relaxed she had been in ages, no longer surrounded by suspicious Mandalorians or questionable spacers.

For a time, Chandra remained silent. The beginning of any story was as important as anything else, but she struggled to put the timeline into words. The Force was a great, incredible thing, no doubt about that - but it certainly had a way of fucking with people, too. "I followed a vision to Dxun," she started, the weight of her tone expressing what mere words could not. Her precognitive talents had been a constant throughout her entire life, sudden and unrelenting, ruining her rest and taking her to strange, often contentious places. She was growing tired of it, though she knew as well as anyone they were impossible to deny. "I don't know how it was Dxun, actually. I might've gotten the signs wrong." Brow pinched, she frowned somewhat as though the thought had never occurred to her before. Had she interpreted the dream correctly? Or was it coincidence that led her to the cultists among the forest? Struggling to remember the details, Chandra leaned forward, a hand against her brow, and closed her eyes. "But there was a tomb - it was enormous. This.. ominous grey monolith in the jungle. Just looking at it felt terrible. Like every second trying to hold my gaze was a year gone from my life."

"There was a lightsaber, reflected against a mask. The mask was old, sort of dirty, gold in color. And the visor.. Shaped like a vev, maybe."
She glanced at her belongings, knowing the sketchbook that sat at the top of her pack might help dispel any confusion with her recollection. "But it wasn't metal. Wood, or bone - something very old." Sighing, Chandra sat back in her chair and let her gaze wander, shaking her head. "It took some time to put the puzzle together. Spent some time in the Archives trying to figure out why there would be something so .. big, in an uninhabited jungle."

"But that mask was just.. I don't know. Familiar, somehow, and when I went looking for moons and planets that fit the description in my head, something told me Dxun was exactly what I was looking for. So I listened. And when I finally met with the Mandalorians, it all seemed to shift into focus: the masks, that.. visor, their armor. It all just fit."


For a moment, Chandra regretted not imposing on the young Padawan herself. Having something to eat would give her time to think and chew, to consider her words more carefully. Though her retelling was as off the cuff as it could be, there was no sense of urgency behind her words. Going into detail was as much for her own benefit as it was for his, though she wasn't sure how much anyone wanted to hear of the atrocities she'd seen.

"I expected some resistance, if I'm behind entirely honest. I was willing to barter for their cooperation if necessary, but on the whole they were more than accommodating. I think.. that was the best part of my mission, actually." Pausing to consider, Chandra punctuated the thought with a nod. "Yes, it was. I enjoyed getting to know them - I think they'd make for tremendous allies, someday." Recalling the memory elicited a soft smile, a subtle suffusion of warmth before she spoke again, remembering the grimier details.

"They lost a group of scouts to the Sith. Seems as though they knew something was coming and surprised them, then strung them up half-dead for the local wildlife to devour." Jaw clenched, Chandra swallowed hard. "That was.. probably the worst of it. I don't know, I feel like I should be upset for the cultists, too - that they strayed so far and got so lost in darkness. But those soldiers died because of my vision; not because they were tainted by the Dark Side. I wish I could've done better." It was naive to hope that there could be a war without casualties, but it seemed exceptionally terrible to lose people who, as far as the mission was concerned, had done nothing wrong.
 

Sanjuro

Initiate
Mandalorian Clans
Faction Leader
To others, he might have seemed insensitive and uncaring as he went about his meal, but Chandra had his undivided mental attention. Visions were powerful things, indeed, and precognition was one of the more difficult powers. As it had been said among Jedi for time immemorial, the future was always in motion. When she spoke of a Tomb in her vision, Echuu stopped dead in his tracks, returning his vision to the young woman retelling her story, apparent that the wheels were turning in his head. Eyes darted back and forth, trying to recall details he knew that he knew. A tomb. Dxun. There was an ancient Sith Lord buried there, thousands and thousands of years ago.

All of a sudden his eyes ceased their movement and the realization struck him, albeit silently: the tomb of Freedon Nadd. Eyes now cast an alarmed expression, though Echuu said not a word to interrupt as she went on about meeting the Mandalorians. A savage and brutal people, with some high code of honor to bind them all together. Not entirely different than the Jedi Order, but he had little knowledge or experience on them as a culture—only what filtered through the HoloNet and their actions years ago in the Vong war. That she had found enjoyment among them was not exactly a surprise, given her attitude.

Though, Echuu went back to his meal as Chandra continued—soon finishing it as she finished with her retelling of events. He sharply inhaled, sliding the tray away from him a bit, and rose from his seat to catch the teakettle just before it started to squeal, and prepared two ceramic mugs full. Echuu carried both cups over to her, offering her one before taking the seat next to hers. ”It is not the Mandalorians’ destiny you are responsible for, Chandra Valle, but yours,” he said, shaking his head from side to side just slightly. ”The Will of the Force is oft-unknowable, and as such you cannot know if their destinies were not meant to end precisely where they did. Loss of life is always regrettable, but those are a people who live and die by the sword. Just as we are prepared to make such sacrifices, so are they.”

Echuu took a measured sip from the hot tea, a citrus blend, and returned to his admonishment. ”But that is all beside the point. You do realize that the Master of the Order was run out of his station for much the same insubordination as you have committed—rushing headlong into combat with the Sith; cultists or otherwise. What’s worse is that your thoughts betray you even now.” He was referring, of course, to the apparent fact that she thought more of the Mandalorians as potential allies. No, she was becoming fond of those she had met and interacted with. It was a dangerous proposition. Jedi Shadows were already walking the razor’s edge of balance in the Force, and to have one form any kind of attachment to a warrior people was problematic at best.

But before Chandra had a chance to make a rebuttal, Echuu waved it away for now with something of an exasperated sigh. ”Just… be mindful,” he added with another shake of his head. “I want to hear more about this vision of yours. When did it start? Are you certain you encountered everything from it? It may be just the start of something. Quite rare for such a vision to encompass just one isolated event...” Visions were not something to mess around with. Sometimes they were a prophecy, sometimes just flashes of a possible future, and even less frequently than that they were just dreams. But Echuu didn’t believe in coincidences. The Force had guided her to Dxun for a reason, though the true purpose might never be known now.
 

Salt

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New Jedi Order
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Whatever hint of reassurance his words had provided, whatever peace she had found in his assertion that the scouts were responsible for their destiny, their choices, vanished the instant he recalled the actions of their former leader. Master Pentag was a cautionary tale: no matter how just the cause, it was crucial to think before acting, to reflect and take the time to consider all sides of a given issue before leaping into action. Though he openly defied the Council, she acted without seeking their input; as if their trust guaranteed clearance to crusade across the galaxy, culling cultists and darksiders with impunity.

For a moment, it was as though the air had been sucked from the room. Her chest felt heavy and tight, and she struggled to pull in a breath, nodding mutely in agreement. There was no sense in arguing: Echuu was right. Her actions had been reckless. That the Council deemed her fit to continue her duties might've implied they found her misgivings to be less egregious than their former Grandmaster's, but their insistence that she seek the company of her fellow Jedi was a clear message to reconsider her behavior, to think before leaping headlong into conflict. It wasn't a punishment, so far as she could tell, but rather an attempt to realign her views with that of the Order. That he didn't press the issue was yet another kindness, it seemed.

Brow pinched, Chandra considered the questioning. "I don't know." Blinking, eyes downcast, she tried to recall the vision that had guided her to Dxun, though the images seemed far away - as if clouded by time, or the desire to recall them during waking hours. "It was so dark." The mask - it had been a gleaming thing in the darkness of her vision, and the tomb, too. Bright beacons of where to go, what to seek. "That feeling when you're outside, training in the daylight, and then you move indoors and it takes time to adjust - like moving into a chamber with the lights out completely, that feeling of knowing something is there, but you can only glimpse the outline of it." Sighing, Chandra sat back against the chair. The frustration was visible in her face, her posture; there was an anxious energy to her words that made it clear she was struggling to even recall the visions, let alone decipher their true meaning.

"Every time it feels like I'm on a ship. Not my ship - something bigger. I can hear the hum of the engine, but again it's.. dark. Something feels bad - off, I guess. Dangerous somehow. I don't think I'm in hyperspace. I don't think the ship moves at all." Waving a hand, she fidgeted some, seeking comfort from the chair. "I thought it might be the Mandalorians and their gunship, but now I'm reconsidering." That the vision could encompass more than her mission to Dxun never really registered, but it made sense. As much as anything related to the Force could, anyway. "I never got the sense of foreboding when I was with them. Like something bad was on the horizon, no, just.. like I was being watched, I guess. But I was."
 

Sanjuro

Initiate
Mandalorian Clans
Faction Leader
Kindness had never entered into his range of thought as he moved from admonishment to inquiry. That the Council had sent her to Ossus instead of taking her debriefing in person was symptomatic enough. And after all, Chandra was a Jedi Master herself and a grown adult. It was sufficient to cite the improperness of an action, state it in such a way that when the offender hears it under a different light they begin to reconsider their own mistakes and self-repair. Jedi were communal only in that they belonged to the same Order, held the same mission in life. Individuality was important, at least in Echuu’s book, but there was a difference between individuality and insubordination. Moreover, he could tell the entire experience had given Chandra pause. Besides, the Vision involved had to take priority; he could admonish her further later, if necessary.


To wane and err was human. Life was often unforgiving, but it didn’t have to be. All Echuu could ever ask from any of his peers and pupils that they gave it their best shot every time. Any less was a disservice to both themselves and the Galaxy.


As she delved into the details of the vision that had guided her, Echuu narrowed his eyes as he recalled her earlier mention of the mask. There was something familiar about a mask and Dxun. The details slowly filtered to the forefront of his mind as Chandra spoke of darkness and danger aboard a ship. Possibly omens, but he had little insight into that yet. Potential glances into a possible future. ”Interesting,” Echuu began after a quiet sip of tea. ”I believe it was Freedon Nadd that was buried there. Could it be, that after thousands of years, the mark he left in the Force is still there? Incredible. That could have been your danger, or it could have been just a piece of background noise in your vision. I also recall…” Or did he? The pause he left was not insignificant, though; he stopped to consider for several long seconds.


”Ah, yes… The Mandalorians’ ruler recovered a mask from a previous ruler who had also been buried on Dxun as part of his ascension to power some years ago.” Echuu stroked his beard with one hand while the other held the cup of tea. ”Most interesting, indeed…” he let the words trail off as his mind ran through the gauntlet to try and bring any sense or meaningful insight into the rest of her described vision, but the outlook for such a thing seemed fleeting at best. Time was the only thing for it. Time would prove Chandra’s visions to be true or just a vision. And it was best not to dwell.


After a few moments, Echuu called off the mental search for now. ”If these visions should persist, I wish to know. Perhaps even the Council should, too. Foresight is…not unheard of among those with your talents. But do not get mired in these visions. Powerful as they may be, the future is always in flux.” The extent of his sage advice regarding visions and prophecies. It was old wisdom, but it was wisdom earned long ago. Echuu was no stranger to precognition, but it had always been elusive for him—as it was with most Jedi. Those who were attuned to it could be great boons or tragic stories of failure.


He inhaled sharply, and took another sip from his cup of tea still pondering the possibilities. ”Well, then. What makes you think the Mandalorians, of all beings, would make for good allies for us?
 

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