Open Space and Hyperspace

Hans looked up as he saw the Twi'lek girl approaching, Tanara, if memory served correctly. Also with the Perses Project but that was the extent of his knowledge about her, as he hadn't really gotten to know the rest of the team yet.May as well start now.The soldier nodded."Sure. Take a seat."He put down the piece of toast he had been eating and closed the letter from his niece on the datapad, figuring he could finish reading it later."So what can I do for you?"


Hans had scarcely finished speaking when he turned to see someone else also entering the mess hall, her presence announced by the clicking of her heels on the floor as she approached. She introduced herself as Isabelle Eoura, the Operator of the station, gave the usual 'don't touch our stuff' warning before asking them if they had any questions, to which Hans shrugged.
"I'm good for now, thanks."

Perses Station - Mess Hall

Her position within the Organization as a psychologist, being in marked contrast to the operational personnel and station crew that seem to comprise the majority of the station's other inhabitants, is not one that lends itself particularly well to socializing since, in order to do her job effectively, Siroun needs to maintain a certain professional distance from those that she will be evaluating or, perhaps, treating; Siroun has, however, always been, by virtue of a combination of disposition and her past, intensely private and self-contained, enabling her to adjust to her new life on the station with relative ease. Able to lose herself in her work has always come easy to her, and Siroun has found preparing to evaluate those she has been hired to evaluate by reviewing the dossiers she has been provided with in order to do so diverting enough that her relative isolation has gone largely unnoticed.

She cannot, naturally, spend all of her time in her quarters or her office, though she has, until now, found that her personal schedule and routines are ones that seldom bring her in contact with any of those she will be evaluating. Had she not had a sudden craving for Manellan Jasper tea, Siroun may have gone even longer without crossing paths with any of the operatives she will be evaluating, but the craving brings her to the mess hall, she sees upon entering it, at the same time as not only two of them, but Isabelle, who she has not seen since her departure with Shepherd for Korriban several days ago.

Noting that Isabelle, having elected to, it seems, present a more professional look than that she had been sporting on the occasions when Siroun had interacted with her, appears to be conversing with Tanara and Hans, Siroun decides it would be prudent not to interrupt them as she is aware of Isabelle's tendency to play with her identity in order to tailor it towards those she is interacting with and would not want to spoil whatever game she might playing. After getting a mug of Manellan Jasper, then, Siroun takes it to an unoccupied table not far from the trio and sits, taking her datapad from the pocket of her black suit jacket and occupying herself by reviewing the notes she has prepared for the evaluations she will be performing.

Location: Firrerre

As he left the simple house he had called home here on Firrerre for the last many years, Dominus took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the moist air of his waterfall-covered adoptive home planet, and began his typical morning stroll through the town, marketplace, and eventually out into the woods. As usually the Firrerreo who saw him and knew him greeted him with 'Master', 'Jedi', or even 'Friend', taking great pains not to use his name, as they didn't want to disrespect him - even if he didn't share their superstitions about names. It often pained him that they treated him as such, many holding him up as a savior of their home and way of life, but very few seeking his actual friendship.

Today was no different, except that he keenly felt ill at ease about a great many things beyond the Firrerreo themselves. First of all was this growing sense that he wasn't supposed to be here. Not just here on Firrerre, but actually here in this physical existence. Long before he'd been forcefully resurrected by a fallen former apprentice of his, killing off another being and forcing him into this body, which now looks like a younger version of the man he once was before his actual, legitimate death. It had taken some time to acclimate to this new existence, and to come to terms with the fact that his wife - whom he discovered later had died at some point before or around his unnatural rebirth - was nowhere to be found in the galaxy. He rejoined the Jedi Order in time, and even attended another unification meeting on Yavin IV, turning down a leadership position out of wisdom, feeling that the unnaturalness of his continued living presence might taint the Jedi themselves. After turning over codes and information about the Baobab Holonet to his friend Dav Man'sell for the Jedi to make use of, he abruptly left the moon and returned to the darkness of space, feeling it best that he remain out of Jedi affairs entirely.

After much time of introspection and wandering, turned all of his military assets over to his faithful Admiral Quarp'da, took his lone ship, and returned to Firrerre, where there was still much clan conflict and rivalry taking place on the planet he'd help rid of the hive virus. After settling into a quiet existence there, forsaking all the trappings and wealth he once had in the distant past, he finally took up an apprentice, a Firrerreo youth with much promise and a kind heart that was unswayed by a desire for wealth or power. Vatheir was a good apprentice, and Dom taught the boy all he knew, training him into a newly-christened Jedi Knight. It was both a proud and sad moment for the old Jedi Master, for though he felt pride in his apprentice, he also felt sorrow for the fact that his own family - sons, daughters, for all he knew, even grandchildren - were scattered about the galaxy.

However, even after conquering many bouts of depression, he couldn't shake the uneasiness he felt when he reached deep into the Force, that there was something tainted and twisted about his own body, all because of Cartroa's twisted use of the Force to bring him back to life again. Though he never let on, Dom's ability to touch the Force had been somewhat diminished as a result, even if he would still be considered by most a 'powerful Jedi'. Still, even with this reality creeping in upon him, the old Jedi was at peace with that reality. So long as his connection was not completely severed, he was convinced he would remain at peace with it, even if one day, years from now, he was relegated only to sensing rather than using the Force.

Beyond that, however, he felt a disturbance in the Force here on this planet, oddly familiar, but also very alien to him as well. Something that was both foreboding and welcoming, yet he couldn't distinguish between the two, nor did he let it make him the least bit fearful. With even less to lose now than he ever had before, fear was something he rarely ever felt even a twinge of these days, especially now that he was here, away from galactic politics, away from the burden of leadership, away from all the things of his past that many across the galaxy still remembered. His legacy had been a mixed one, to be sure, for though he helped liberate the galaxy from the oppression of the Sith as they marched across it with little resistance, his methods made many Jedi mistrust him, and he had reluctantly become a head of state alongside his wife - an emperor, actually, though the name lacked the malice of more infamous emperors in the past. He helped oversee a just, peaceful, and thriving empire where freedom and opportunity thrived, and injustices were dealt with. Such was not the place for a Jedi, many said, and as such he could never regain the trust of many he once called friends. So life here on this planet of waterfalls was best for him, life away from spotlights and notice. He did miss his friends among the Jedi, but he felt that his quasi-monastic life here was better for everyone, himself included.

So even as he felt the disturbance grow, the old Jedi Master neglected even to think of his lightsabers hanging from his belt beneath his brown robe.