Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Apr 25, 2013 15:38:24 GMT -8
A vast stone surface at the very top of the Great Temple, the Praxeum's roof overlooks the great rainforest which surrounds the Temple on all sides. Access is gained via a stairwell that leads down into the hallways immediately outside the Grand Audience Chamber. It is here that Luke Skywalker often brought his students to observe and meditate under the prismatic light effects caused by light diffused through the Gas Giant's upper atmosphere.
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Lita Trykk
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Post by Lita Trykk on Jun 15, 2013 16:11:30 GMT -8
*Silence settled between the Jedi Master and the unlikely visitor of the jungle moon. The soft footfalls of their boots against the stone temple stairs echoed down the well, Lita's pausing now and again as she glanced back to make certain Dav Man'Sell was still behind her, as though for lack of trust she needed the visual reminder. It was rather remarkable that she was inviting this confrontation, rather than running from it. The strange sense of peace that had been instilled in her was, perhaps, disorienting the Zabrak, new focus warring with decades of habit of another behavior entirely. But the peace was temporary, already beginning to fade. So perhaps it was another reason entirely.
They emerged into the hot, humid air stirred by a lazy breeze above the structure of the Great Temple. Lita took a moment to absorb the near-sensory numbing shifting of vibrant color before lowering her gaze to something clutched in the palm of her hand, its chain around her neck. Her thumb brushed against the engraved surface of the medallion.*
"This connection should never have happened."
*She turned to face Dav, the fierceness in her expression having been replaced by something troubled, something vulnerable to soul-crushing pain.*
"I never touched his mind. I could never hurt him that way, put him in that sort of danger. Confuse his emotions for...others."
*She visibly winced. Whatever else Jago might say, she would never quite believe she was completely absolved of guilt when it came to the ring missing from the finger that connected to his heart. That he no longer had the woman he loved with him. But she had never once, not ever, been tempted to manipulate his thoughts as she had learned to do to others.*
"I would have been content, in a bittersweet sort of way, to remain in the shadow of Ksandra Mallan." *She growled low in her throat.* "There is no point in my pretending you are not aware of what I feel for Jago, not since I forced our thoughts into one. But my very presence now threatens the tenuous hold he has on peace, control, and his dedication to self-sacrifice."
*These last words were spoken with a clipped tongue, her own resentment for the Order and what they demanded from Jago slipping through.*
"...How did this happen, Master Man'Sell? How is it possible for someone like me be bonded to someone like him without forcing it? And...how do I stop it?"
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Jun 18, 2013 14:59:17 GMT -8
The gentle and lazy breeze did not cut through the humidity and heat of the morning, did not dissipate the temperature, but did serve as a welcome contrast to it. The waxing and waning of the breeze created a tapestry of sensations on the bare skin of his body as he stepped on to the roof after her, an environmental match for the wash of delicate colours that painted the sky like oil on water, as photons and charged particles, refracted through the upper atmosphere of the Gas Giant, dispersed through moon's own atmosphere in a wash of rainbow colours. From the rainforest below, fresh morning aromas of a thousand different plants and flowers drifted up on the breezes to great them. Up where they were, sound was almost non-existent, leaving only their words, and the fall of their feet upon the stonework beneath them, to break the silence.
He watched her walk away, take her moment, and he waited, patient and open, for her to choose her words. And when she spoke, she spoke vulnerably, and he listened intently and respectfully. When she spoke, it was honest, and acknowledging the truth that had, inevitably, passed between them when their minds had touched. Dav had long been aware of Jago's confused feelings for Lita, of the draw towards her, the dedication to her - and now, he knew of hers for Jago. Perhaps he ought to have been surprised. In some way, a small part of him was, for Lita, as she presented herself, did not seem the type to allow such vulnerability easily.
The surprise is not that she has the feelings. I'm surprised she feels able to admit them. To herself, let alone to me. I know a lot of people who, even now, would try to ignore them.
But then, perhaps, trying to predict what Lita is or isn't prepared for would be... foolish.
He lowered his head, thoughtful, his hands clasped behind his back.
"The... uh... Sith teach an aggressive telepathic philosophy. The Sith are to force themselves on others, and prevent other's minds from entering theirs as aggressively as they can. Your... methods earlier when you initiated our link carried those trademarks, and I am not surprised if your Sith master... whoever that was... never taught you much about an alternative."
He paced slowly towards her, his head still bow, brow furrowed.
"For... less aggressive Force using traditions, telepathic connections are often less about forcing the link, and more about allowing it to occur..." He glanced up at her. "For some Force Sensitive individuals who form a close, personal emotional attachment with another Force Sensitive, it's not unusual for empathic bonds to form without willing them. A natural extension of allowing someone into your trust, of caring for them... your subconscious utilises your Force talents to reach out to that other person. It can happen between friends, family members... lovers. Tebana and I share a pretty strong bond..."
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Lita Trykk
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Post by Lita Trykk on Jun 30, 2013 12:49:34 GMT -8
"Allowing it..."
*There was a long silence that passed between them as she struggled to wrap her thoughts around his words. A line of tension formed between her brows, around the studded piercing above her nose, and she turned her face away from the Master Jedi.
She might not have been looking at Dav, but neither was she looking out at the landscape, or the kaleidoscope of light and color around them. They might have been standing in an enclosed room with nothing but cinder block walls to stare at, for all the Zabrak could envision in that moment. Whether her eyes were open or closed, all she could see was Jago's face. The shock in his expression the first moment they had met, when she had drawn her silver blades with every intent to slice him open just because he was Jedi. The tenderness which had followed, acceptance of the danger and fearlessness to it, a warrior without ever having raised a hand.
And the hurt she had caused him when she had turned him away on Contruum. When he had asked her to go with him, and she had chosen to walk in the footfalls of a Sith, instead. He didn't know. She never told him why she had turned him down. Hadn't told him of the small girl whose blood had not yet been washed from her hands only hours before he had appeared like an apparition of judgment. Instead, she had scoffed his ways and berated the mission of his soul, twisting the knife deeper by telling him his work was futile. That the lives he saved were worthless. That the holo he had played for her, the screams of the dying meant nothing to her. She'd turned her back to it as though it bored her. Those screams haunted her dreams for many nights. Jago's ghostly white form would be among them, fighting for their ungrateful and pitiful lives, sacrificing for them.
And what had her decision gained her? Cold indifference, a betrayal, a callous and meaningless death. A death at the hands of a deceiver whom had never held honor, followed by a painful pummeling of her two hearts by cruel fists that did not care if her soul returned along with the instrument of destruction her body had become.
And then, most recently, there was the look in cerulean eyes as soft lips confessed simple words full of complicated meaning. That was the most painful to see. Because he didn't understand. He delivered it so easily, so thoughtlessly as though it had been in his heart for so long that it was familiar and unsurprising to him. But that was impossible. The realization of that impossibility dawned on him slowly, but it hit Lita like a crashing meteor. And she fought against him, rejected that place in his heart.
Her hands curled into fists.*
"No, I did not allow it. I never allowed it. I've been suppressing it, avoiding it, even trying to destroy it for the better part of a decade, Jeedai!"
*She turned flashing eyes cold as garnet stone on him.*
"Jago and I are not like you and Tebana! And if those are the only words of wisdom you have to offer me..."
*She shoved past him, her Iridonian robes flaring briefly before settling from the forcefulness of her movement.*
"...then we're done, here."
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Jun 30, 2013 14:22:13 GMT -8
Another flash of anger. Or was it fear? Self-defence? Even after their bond, Dav was still learning about Lita Trykk, about who she was, what made her mind work. Why she reacted as she did.
But there was one impression he had got of her from the stories Jago told. That under that exterior, under all the pain, under the stony wall of aggression and passion and appearing strong, there was something softer in her. Something caring. A heart - or, indeed, two hearts - that had the capacity for kindness. For love. For good. No matter how much else laid on top of it. That impression came from Jago, from a deep seated belief that Jago held, that came across in every word he said of the Iridonian. Perhaps Jago was idealising her. Perhaps he was seeing in her something he hoped for, not something there actually was. But Dav didn't believe that. Dav didn't think Jago as... naive as all that.
Lita shoved past him, and took the shove, shunted aside. He didn't know if he could convince her to stay. He didn't know if he had all - or indeed, any - of the answers for her. But Jago believed in her, and he believed in Jago, and so he knew he wanted to.
He closed his eyes for a moment, dipped his chin, and then turned his head to speak over his shoulder.
"I have to ask you..."
The question... he knew she cared deeply. She'd admitted that much. He knew she had a fondness, a genuine affection that went against her beliefs, a deep set attachment for Jago Pulastra that she couldn't walk away from.
But would she call it this? Would she go so far as to use that word? His eyes opened again, and he turned further, lifting his chin and his gaze to find her face.
"Do you love him?"
He didn't want to pry, or to force her to admit anything she didn't yet want to admit - not at this stage. The soft way he'd asked, gentle, honest, it came from the part of him that also had great capacity to care. This was not the hardened Battlemaster she spoke to. Not the Galaxy-weary veteran who carried the aches of a life under long hardship and pain. This was the carer. The friend. The one that had been able to fall in love with Tebana Sor. The one who had sat, quietly, at Jago's bedside when he had nearly died. This was the heart of him, the tiniest little spark that had never quite given up, even when all of the rest of him had.
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Lita Trykk
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Post by Lita Trykk on Jul 7, 2013 12:33:32 GMT -8
*It was beginning to irritate her, the way this Master Jedi had a talent for stopping her in her tracks with words that pierced. Her fingers curled tightly into fists and her head turned slightly, though she did not look back at him.
Dav knew the simple answer already. He'd seen that much of her himself. But he was not asking for the simple answer. He wanted to know how complicated this really was? Then she would tell him. Lita's stance shifted, a subtle but significant difference in the unspoken language. Her hands unclenched, her shoulders lowered, and her head lifted with, from her side-profile, only hinted at a torment that had lasted ages, and been buried for just as long.
Did she love him?*
"...For many years...back to the first day we met."
*She crossed her arms around her middle, as though to protect the two hearts beating in synchronized rhythm beneath her dense breastbone.*
"The infatuation was as inconvenient as it was irrational. I ignored it. No, that's not quite right. I entombed it, pretended it didn't exist. The difficulty I was experiencing with Bahari Nav and his son at the time made it possible to do so. I reasoned my feelings were a transference of that pain the Navs had so unwantingly caused, that my infatuation for Jago was a manifestation of the rejection I felt from Bahari, and the bitter resentment and guilt of his arranging Tai Shan to Aiden as though his son could serve as a replacement mate.
Then, they were gone from my life, left me in the prison of a Hutt beneath the sands of Tatooine for reasons I will never know, but will always trust was not of their will. And a year later, when I clawed my way out of the sand to find the devastation of my home world, it was Jago that the Force pulled me towards, cruel and taunting energy that it is. Only brief, fleeting crossings of our two paths, sometimes we saw one another for bare minutes, but my feelings for him grew each time. And I did not breathe a word. It was too late for us. His heart had already been offered to others, and someone braver than me had the presence of mind to take it."
*The Zabrak seemed to almost curl up, her hands digging deep into her sides as she fought back the pain of that moment of realization, years ago and still as sharp as a vibroblade's edge.*
"I love him. I have been in love with him for far longer than he could possibly know, and will remain in love with him for the rest of my life."
*Her eyes flashed dangerously as she turned to look back at Dav Man'Sell.*
"You will not burden him with this knowledge. I've caused too much damage already. Now, was there anything else, or can we go our separate ways?"
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Jul 8, 2013 5:01:27 GMT -8
He turned to face her properly, granting her the respectful, silent listening that such a baring of her hearts warrented. His expression softened as she spoke, and he felt his heart drop a little for her. For all her hardened exterior, for all the shields, the defences she raised, there it was... right there, for a moment, there were the hearts that Jago believed in.
There were the hearts that loved.
Oh, Lita.
He felt hurt for her. Saddened for her that she had been denied by circumstance a little peace and affection. How might her life have been different, he wondered, if she had had those chances? If she had someone like Jago to care for her?
His expression had softened, a small expression of pain for her. She had suffered. Oh, how she'd suffered.
Dav nodded a small nod.
"I wouldn't tell him. You should have that choice, and I'll respect that, forever if I have to."
He dipped his head a little, looking at the dusty stone roof they stood upon. Love. There was no greater bond in the Force. Love outstripped pain, outstripped fear, anger, hatred, for the power it could grant. Love... love was the domain of the Light Side.
"But love... love, Lita. It's the ultimate acceptance." There was something akin to an awkward grimace, and his gaze left the point on the roof as he sought the right words. "I don't mean to sound so cliché, but love has a greater power over the spirit than anything else. You may not have meant to, you may not even have wanted to, but Jago's presence, his spirit, holds a significance to you that others do not. You trust him. You love him. And he you. Perhaps it was subconscious, or on a spiritual level that you weren't aware of... but some small part of you, at some point, was at least open to forging such a Force bond. You were, after all, able to fall in love. The two are remarkably closely connected. Whether you reached out to him, or he to you, or the Force is drawing you both together... that's something that only time, and patience, can reveal."
He paused for a moment. His face was still, soft, as he studied her face. When he spoke, his voice was soft, even.
"You came here for a reason, and it wasn't just because of your past with this place. You came here because of him, because of what you've faced with him, and maybe, just maybe, it's all following that same impulse. Maybe there's a bigger purpose to it."
The Jedi Master looked at her, and with his eyes he asked her to be patient, to give that impulse a chance.
"At this point, I've got more questions and possibilities than answers, just like you. I think that, together, we could find some answers. But it's going to take time, and it's going to take courage, and it's going to take perseverance."
He opened his hands, an open, accepting gesture.
"I'll give you all the help I can give. But only if you want it."
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Lita Trykk
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Post by Lita Trykk on Jul 8, 2013 14:30:20 GMT -8
*Pity was always a difficult thing for her to see reflected in the eyes of another. It injured her pride. The fault was her own if she inspired it in another, though, so her anger was entirely self-directed, and entirely welcomed as it blissfully burned away the bitter ache of wishful thinking. It was familiar ground to her, as the cold touch of darkness returned to blot out the light. Her words were more clipped, perhaps, than she intended for them to be.*
"Power? There is no power, here. These feelings cripple me, and harm him. There are no possibilities with us. You cannot find answers, because there are none. There is only one purpose for my being here."
*She approached him with slow intent, a predatorial gait in the few steps it took to close the distance between them. Her hands guardedly lifted to his, slender fingers curling around the wrists of his opened hands to apply a gentle pressure directly to the tendons, encouraging his own fingers to curl involuntarily inward, to close them.*
"There is only one thing I am seeking your help, for. Tell me how to stop it from happening. Show me how to break the bond."
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Jul 9, 2013 6:00:27 GMT -8
Her fingers curled around his wrists, applying pressure, curling his fingers inwards. He watched her face as she did this, making no movement of his own, other than the involuntary closing of his hands. A frown, a delicate and subtle frown, formed on his brow. He studied her face for a moment, her sharp, but quite beautiful, features. So much fight. So much hurt.
So much untapped potential.
After a long moment, he shook his head slowly.
"I can't do that."
Technically, he probably could. Through Dragon Squadron training, and through his bonds with Tebana, Ksandra, Joshua, and yes, Jago too, he had learnt enough about forging and controlling such bonds that he could probably show her how to close herself off from it, even if breaking the bond outright proved impossible to do. But he wouldn't. Every part of his spirit told him not to. The Force told him not to.
When he spoke again, his voice was so soft, delicate.
"There is no power for you because all you've known is the teachings of the Sith. This power is too great for them. Too subtle. I can help you learn to understand it. I can help you let go of all this anger and find some peace. I can show you the strength in serenity. But I cannot break your bond to Jago."
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Lita Trykk
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Post by Lita Trykk on Jul 11, 2013 14:53:30 GMT -8
*The quiet refusal was not met with hostility or ferocity, but rather with a slow depression of energy, Lita's gaze falling. A hard knot formed in her throat.
The length of his contemplative silence before he answered was more telling than even the tone of his voice. The Jedi was not refusing her because it was something he was incapable of, but because he was not willing to show her. She could fight him. Even attempt to force him, if she did not find the idea of doing so incredibly repugnant. She would lose. Maybe that was why her hands gently fell away from his with wordless acceptance of his decision.
Or maybe, no matter how much easier it would have been to sever herself from Jago, she did not particularly want to take the escape route. Did not very much want to lose him, this time.
When she spoke, it was to echo the Master's earlier words.*
"...Then I will take all of the help you can give."
*Her expression firmed again, erasing the hurt and pain that had so plainly visible a moment before. In a peculiar gesture, she brushed her hand across her horned brow, bringing her fingertips close together and striking them against the open palm of her other hand.*
"You teach?"
*She lifted her close-pressed fingertips back to her orat.*
"I'll learn."
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Jul 11, 2013 16:40:00 GMT -8
Dav nodded. He would happily teach her, as best as he could. She'd accepted his offer, and his refusal, and from the way she accepted it, he felt as though she had done so with full understanding of what he had meant by it. With a small smile, he broke the silence of the moment.
"Alright then. But, I think to start with, you could probably do with some rest. It's been a busy morning, and you've been through quite an ordeal. We can talk later on, when we've had some more time to digest everything that's just happened."
The Jedi Master glanced up at the pearlescent skies.
"Looks like it'll be a nice day. We should make the most of it. Stormy season is due any day now..."
There was a moment, just a beat, after he said that, where Dav seemed a little distant, as if those words had greater meaning than simply a comment on the weather, but when he looked back at her, he showed no sign of even any awareness of the moment. His smile broadened.
"And I... I think it's time I put some more clothes on."
With a gentle nod, he took a few steps away from her, heading back for the stairs downwards. As he reached them, his foot on the first step back down into the Temple, he stopped. He half turned, head dipped, as if considering something. After a moment like this, Dav looked up at her.
"Lita... one more thing."
A small frown furrowed his brow, his head canting to the side ever so slightly.
"Jago... and Ksandra... whatever you may think might have happened, you should know that he and her would have ended anyway. Nothing that came to pass between you and Jago is to blame for their separation. They had just... reached the end."
He didn't feel as though, right now, he needed to say any more than that, and so he offered her another small smile, another small, respectful nod, and then let her be, leaving her with the gentle breezes, the tranquil scenes, and the beautiful wash of colour that dominated the morning sky.
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Lita Trykk
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Post by Lita Trykk on Jul 13, 2013 6:41:44 GMT -8
"Lita... one more thing." "Jago... and Ksandra... whatever you may think might have happened, you should know that he and her would have ended anyway. Nothing that came to pass between you and Jago is to blame for their separation. They had just... reached the end."
An icy chill passed through her, and for a moment, the world was black as night, the roar of rain and war in her mind, the acrid stench of burning and the ozone of ionic weaponry-
She blinked once more, and the feeling faded. Her lips parted.*
"Stormy season-?"
*But her voice trailed off as she realized she was alone on the roof, the Master Jedi having left her in silence to her stunned thoughts. The sense of disturbance was already gone from her mind, greatly overshadowed by the revelation that she was shouldering the blame for something that would have happened without her. The relief. And the trepidation of walking a path she had turned her back on as a youngling. Would that path take her back? Would the blood on her hands and taint on her mind prevent it?
The wind stirred, a rare event on the jungle moon except during patterns of weather change, and with it brought a soothing voice, a soft touch by an unseen hand. Her thoughts cleared, a small moment of peace before the cloud of darkness cast its shadow once more. She left the roof, descending the tower steps with a white-haired Jedi on her mind.* |
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Sept 28, 2013 15:41:33 GMT -8
 The Mandalorians have brought war to the Galaxy once more. Under the leadership of Mand'alor ASHRAH INTALBO, and his General CORR VHETT, they have begun a campaign against the Galaxy's Force Users. The Jedi World of Yavin IV was the first hit, a strike at one of the greatest Jedi strongholds. The Mandalorians took YAVIN STATION, the mighty orbital defence platform, thanks to a brilliant infiltration strategy by DUKE AUSTRALIS, and under the order of Jedi Master DAV MAN'SELL, the Jedi forces retreated from orbit. With the Jedi fleets scattered, the Mandalorians took their attack to the surface.
However, the Jedi defences were not so easily overcome. With starfighter cover lead by Jedi Master JAGO PULASTRA, and ground defences overseen by Jedi Knight ADI MATANGO and Falleen strategist TZA'UAX, the Jedi were able to force the Mandalorians to withdraw to orbit. However, the defence is not without sacrifice - redeemed former Dark Sider DACE CONCORDIA, at the beginning of his path to reclaim the mantle of Jedi, was slain by the Mand'alor in bloody, vicious combat.
Now the Mandalorians are settling in for a long siege on the Praxeum, blockading the planet and seeking constantly to take out the shield generator and ion cannons that form the backbone of the Praxeum's defence. Dav, Jago, and the other resident Jedi of Yavin lead the hard fought and desperate defence, whilst Adi, working with Master WILL SON'TIR and Jedi Knight DIAMONTE TUHLUTE, and the Jedi Watchmen, seeks to prepare the Jedi, and the worlds of the Republic, for the inevitable assault to come.... THE SIEGE
Day Two The Jedi Praxeum had seen its share of combat. Ever since the Great Temple had been built, five millennia earlier, it had been the site of many a battle: the culmination of the Exar Kun war, which scarred the planet for centuries to come; the infamous Battle of Yavin, when the Death Star met its end; and after the Praxeum's founding, so many more, from the battle against the spirit of Exar Kun, and the campaign by Natasi Daala, and the attack launched by Desaan, to the Shadow Academy, and the Yuuzhan Vong war, and the forces of the Dread Lord Havok, and the Corruption.
The Jedi Praxeum was no stranger to conflict and war. Nonetheless, the Mandalorian assault had tested the Jedi defenders greatly, and, no doubt, greater challenges still faced the besieged Academy. The Great Temple - twice devastated, twice rebuilt - was already carrying wounds of the Mandalorian aggression, with at least one hole blown in its walls and pock-and-burn marks throughout the Praxeum.
As the second day dawned, the Praxeum's viewing platform at its very summit sat quiet. Snipers and spotters had moved from this location to more concealed ones further down the Great Temple's structure, leaving the roof to its usual status as a peaceful lookout on a beautiful view, but one tainted by the pain of those in the Temple below and the heat of battle in the forest beyond the Temple's walls.... |
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Ander Tagira
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Post by Ander Tagira on Feb 7, 2014 13:13:20 GMT -8
Ander Tagira [GC-01]
Lord Commander of GALSAF Armed Forces
Great Temple, Yavin IV
1100 hrs Local Time Ander felt the gunship settle onto the rooftop of the Great Temple as their forces landed. Third Platoon's gunship landed outside the Temple's Main Hangar Bay as the battalion's remaining gunships continued on to their respective destinations. The midday sun shone through into the troop bay as the gunship's doors slid backward, and Ander stepped out onto the stone roof of the Temple he had once called his home. Dust coiled around his feet as the gunship's repulsors pushed at the air underneath its chassis, before the engines themselves shut down. Briefly, Ander looked across the landscape surrounding the Temple, seeing the forests and hills around him as if they were a memory.We'll be covering the Temple top to bottom. Fourth Platoon will provide a security cordon around the perimeter while we search the Temple itself. Ander made his way toward the rooftop entrance of the Temple that would lead down to the uppermost levels below the roof, Third Platoon's first squad in tow. Sergent Jur Ysout, a Nautolan male, stepped in front of Ander with his weapon at the ready, angled towards the door. Ander pulled his slicer pad from its pouch on his belt and inserted the connector jack into the door panel's receiver. He uploaded a slicing algorithm and several moments later the door slid open with a hiss. As he expected, nothing awaited them on the other side. Together, the squad began moving through the door way, the rest of the platoon following behind. Soon he found himself standing in an open hallway of the Temple's uppermost level, remembering the stonework walls and floors of the structure that he had helped reconstruct so many years before.Second Squad, take this level. Third and Fourth, work your way down. I'm taking First Squad to the Great Audience Chamber, and from there to the Medical Center. Ander's commandos acknowledged his orders and began to disperse themselves throughout the Temple, using turbolifts and stairwells that remained accessible to them. Ander led First Squad through the Temple's hallways, remembering all too well where the Grand Audience Chamber lay. For a while, he considered what he might find there, and the thought worried and scared him. Alexis Karidian, Dav Man'Sell's former Padawan, had been unable to tell him much about the Praxeum's fall in the face of the Mandalorian siege, leaving him to suspect the worse. There had been few signs of battle as their forces had entered the planet's atmosphere, and even those had come in the form of scorched sections of land in the areas between the Blueleaf Cluster and Great Temples. Ander half expected to find the bodies of Yavinite Jedi and personnel strewn about the Temple's halls, though what they had seen so far had nearly worried him more: Nothing. |
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