These Shattered Stars -- Logs

After some time spent meditating with Quiet and Master Roakkana, Freyja looks up at the Wookie and says thoughtfully, "Master Roakkana... I'd like to add one thing to the debriefing Quiet gave." She relates noticing the white-haired Human male Sith leaving the scene after the third attack -- and, with a slightly self-conscious look, she also describes the curious gesture he made towards her. "I... don't know if he was just teasing me or what... but I thought you'd like to know. It might, um... help generate a better picture of his personality?"

Roakkana, being a Wookie, has a wonderfully emotive face but it's not always easy to read those emotions. Both Quiet and Freyja have had experience in reading the Wookie's normally-humorous expression. This time, it's a blend of concern, amusement, hilarity, and abject, if mildly eggagerated, terror. "Uhm... oh, dear. Child, how old are you in Human standard years?

Freyja blinks, not expecting that question, but answers readily enough, "Eighteen Balmorran years, Master Roakkana. Why?"

Roakkana looks like he's doing some mental calculations, then finally nods. "I... see. Well, then. I daresay, child, that the Sith has perhaps taken a liking to you of some sort."

Freyja laughs! -then shakes her head amusedly, "That's just weird. He's taking a liking to someone who shot him? He must be bored." She grins cheerfully, "Well, let's see... if he has, I wonder if we can persuade him to turn from the Dark?" She giggles softly, adding, "Or am I just a hopele- no, hopeful romantic?"

Roakkana regains some of his humor. "That, or perhaps he finds hijmself attracted to a female strong-willed enough to shoot him." His expression flickers a little. "I should also point out, that, ahem, seducing him to the Light could be considered as of dubious morality as seducing someone to the Dark side. Remember, child, motivations, means, and effects are as important as the end results." He grins slightly. "I daresay, too, that being seduced to the Light would not exactly seem to be at the top of his priorities."

Freyja chuckles quietly, then answers, "Master Roakkana, I won't deny it's flattering to be considered attractive in some fashion. However, considering how often people tried paying attention to me simply as a stepstone to my sister, I always take such regard with a huge grain of salt... and I would not do that -- something I despised -- to someone else either." She smiles calmly... not showing any of what that realization cost her so many years ago.

The Wookie nods. "I understand, child. Forgive me, it needed saying. What sort of teacher would I be if I did not point out the patently obvious?"

Freyja grins affectionately at the Wookie, then asks, after a moment of thought, "Master Roakkana, I'd like to send off a request to the Academy of Arts and Sciences for some research on the Bendu and all the associated groups we've been coming across here. However, I suspect the list of information requested will raise some eyebrows, since it includes phrases like Bendu, Silver Path, Oath of Fire, and any other known variants on Force studies." She pauses, then adds delicately, "Would it be unwise for me to make this request, Master? Or could this be considered legitimate research considering the position we're currently in?"

Roakkana arches his brow. "Certainly, child, but I would ask you not to mention 'Oath of Fire' just yet. The HoloNet is of dubious security with the channels the Order typically uses. Allow me to submit the request for information about the Oath of Fire in my own missive, since it willl be under my seal and code. I daresay the information that the Council is going to receive about the Oath will be enough to put some of them into a panic."

Freyja looks pleased, and thanks the Wookie for his time and advice. After she excuses herself, she'll head out to send off the request to the Academy, phrased in the manner Roakkana asked for. Once that's finished, she goes to the infirmary, knowing it'll be several hours before she gets a response. She's interested in talking to both Karlitta Shang, and Dhaasul, but she first spends a moment being pleasant and reassuring for both Talmon and Valsha. Once she's sure they're both still doing well, she checks to see if the two individuals she's interested in talking with are awake.

Valsha has been moved to regular quarters with her master and the master's other padawan, where they are discussing things at length, meditating, and basically helping back Valsha back to the fold slowly and gently. Jedi Kuuna, the various bodies that have been recently created, and the still-living thugs have been taken to the spaceport hospital, with a strong security detachment. Talmon, Jiosch, Vakkal, and Dhaasul are currently the only occupants of the Infirmiry itself. Shang has been given a room to herself; the apothecary has only a limited amount of room to work with. There is, however, a guard outside Shang's door, one of the Jedi knights.

Talmon, however, is there, and is doing well and comfortably, though he is a little nervous with the huge form of Jiosch and the canine Sith in the same room as him. He is comforted, though, by the fact that both are still unconscious, and Colburth has asked the apothecary to let Talmon have separate chambers; the apothecary is arranging that now, a small room accross the way from the infirmiry. Since Talmon is mostly healed now, except for his spine, he is only awaiting the time when he can be taken into a hospital. "Most likely," he notes, "one of the Coruscant ones, when I'm taken to the Temple."

Freyja is pleased to hear Colburth is looking out for Talmon. "Have you had a chance to talk with Jedi Colburth, then? Was it all right?"

Talmon nods, sighing a little. "Yes, Padawan Freyja, and it went... well. I still feel Colburth has a... an over-healthy opinion of himself, but the waters between us have been cleared. He apologized for his disparaging remarks, and though he said his eyes were opened, he would not elaborate further, and I know that I have you to thank for in some way for that."

Freyja giggles softly, "An 'overhealthy opinion'? Oh, I love that phrase!"

Talmon smiles quietly. "It seems to be a survival trait of Templars," he says in almost a whisper.

Freyja beams, patting Talmon's scaled hand lightly, "I'm glad it worked out well, Talmon." She pauses, considering his latest statement, then simply nods ruefully. Her voice is equally soft, "Pity..."

The Trandoshan tilts his head to the side. "What is a pity, Padawan Freyja?"

Freyja's smile gets even more wry, "That an overhealthy opinion of oneself seems to be a common characteristic of Templars. It's my personal opinion that when one stops asking questions because one thinks one has all the answers... one is most emphatically wrong. Still... maybe he's asking himself some questions now. That might be nice... I hope."

Talmon nods a little. "They are who they are, Padawan Freyja. When one lives without doubt as to one's abilities, when one can place the entirety of one's trust in one's fellows, there's very little that is not possible with the Force. That is one of the things that make the Templars so... well, to a Sith, terrifying. They have absolute faith in what they are doing, in why they are doing it. That gives them strength and drive and purpose." he shakes his head. "It is something that is almost alien to a Sith, and is unknown to most Jedi."

Freyja looks curious, settling carefully down on the edge of the bed so she doesn't jostle Talmon, "Are you saying absolute certainty is as um... as focused, as directed and powerful, as harnessed fear?"

"Well... perhaps. Just from what I have seen of both the Light and the Dark. Fear taps into the depths of a person's heart and mind, unleashing the power of the Force in great gouts and sheets of power. The Dark Side is thus unsubtle, and the Sith must compensate for that unsubtlity in their seductions, with poisons and tricks and deceits. Absolute certainty, absolute force of will and dedication, is a narrow point, a beam-laser, finer than anything coarse fear can be focussed as. It is a laser scalpel, to harnessed fear's concussion rifle. That, though, is just how I have come to see it, as a Sith and a Jedi." He smiles weakly. "Such as I was, that is. So take this under advisement, Padawan Freyja."

Freyja nods slowly, her expression very thoughtful. She murmurs almost absently, "Fascinating... thank you, Talmon. I'll have to consider this..." She focuses enough to add quietly, "Concentrate on getting well soon, all right? Courage." She'll smile and gently squeeze his hand again, then leave, the deeply thoughtful look crossing her face again.

Freyja notices Dhaasul is apparently meditating, which she doesn't really want to interrupt. She pauses long enough to 'touch' gently, to see if he's calling on the Force at all. The Mandragolan is simply meditating; he is not touching the Force at all in any way, light or dark. The Force flows around him as it would about a mind that is at peace, for the time being.

Freyja nods to herself -- she definitely shouldn't bother him then -- so she goes and murmurs quietly with the Jedi at the door of Shang's room, checking to see if the Zabraki woman is awake.

The Jedi -- obviously more comfortable with the lightsabre at his waist than the concussion rife in his hands -- nods, and lets Freyja into the smalll room. The Zabrak within looks up, sitting on the bed and resting comfortably. "Yes?" she asks simply.

Freyja nods politely, "Inspector Shang. Have you had a chance to speak to Master Roakkana yet?"

"Not yet, no. You are one of the persons who came to my home, yes? Thank you for arriving when you did. I hope the way I opened the door did not disturb you."

Freyja maintains quiet reserve, remembering her information on the Zabrak as a very stand-offish culture. "No, it was quite effective, alerting us to the imminent danger you were in. I was wondering if you could tell me about the Silver Path."

The woman looks away for a moment, considering, then back. "The Silver Path. An ancient society, believing in the Balanced Force, postcedents to the Kono, another Force tradition. They were most active in the time which the Jedi call the 'Heresy Wars.' I'm rather surprised that anyone recognized their seal. You are a Templar, then? Or not; you are Human, and would be too young."

Freyja says, "No, I am not a Templar, nor is my Master, nor is the other Human who helped rescue you. To my knowledge, no Templars here know of the insignia on the pommel of your sword. I am trying to understand the Silver Path, and you are the only person I know of who has any information on it... so I ask you." She pauses, then says with intense curiosity, "How could you let the Sith in, knowing they'd be killing innocents? Is that how you believe the Balance is maintained?"

Shang sighs softly. "I saw it as a chance to maintain the balance. To give the Sith the chance to become a viable tradition to oppose the Light. Not to overwhelm it; most species of the Galaxy thrive in the day and sleep, ensconed away safely in their homes at night, after all. But to let the Sith become a balance to the Jedi...." She looks at Freyja again, seriously. "Have you ever been to Tatooine, child? Or Fagon, or Hjel, or any of the other desert world in the Galaxy? Do you kno what it is like to live in eternal light, barely able to open your eyes at risk of being blinded?

Freyja says gravely and without heat, "No, inspector, I have not, although I can imagine it, and I find myself somewhat in agreement with the concept of balance. I do find myself wondering, though... how does the Silver Path justify the death of innocents, in order to salvage its desire for balance? Is it all right for the Dark to murder -- until it's members of the Silver Path themselves who are in danger?" Her tone is not accusatory at all. She's sincerely trying to understand how the members of the Silver Path think.

The Zabraki shakes her head. "We -- I don't. It is not. The Force finds balance only through the actions of living beings, not dead. Child, I had fooled myself. My error was grave. I had thought the Sith would be merely a balance to the Jedi of Marnaas, that the dark and the light would contrast each other, that balance would be found in the conflicts between them alone. I have no wish to see innocents involved, those who are still trying to find balance in their own lives or who may yet know the importance of balance. And yet I forgot, to my shame, that to the Sith there are no innocents. That in their view of the Force we are all beasts within, and thus the concepts of 'innocence' and 'purity' are shams to them.

"And so they played me the fool, and I let them. I gave them access to Marnaas before realizing that some were of an ancient society of revenge, and that the others were little better. The Sith are in their way no different than the Jedi, and yet also in their way much less preferable." She is silent for a moment, then says, "The fault is mine. I cannot and will not forsake my belief that the Jedi must be shown that too much of Ashla is as dangerous as too much of Boghan, that too much of either Light or Dark results in blindness... but I should have known better than to think the Sith were just the Jedi in mirror."

Freyja nods quietly, and is silent for a moment, considering. Finally she simply says, "Inspector, would you please tell all this to my Master Roakkana? I believe he may be able to help you, and he needs to know this." She thinks, but does not say, And may you someday find forgiveness on your own for your assistance in the horrible murder of the monastery's previous Master... because I cannot give it to you. She leaves quietly.

Freyja nods politely to the Jedi guarding the inspector's door, then takes a moment to take a few deep breaths and re-center herself. She believes in the need for balance too... but she doesn't ever want to be as foolish, as gullible, as that woman. She makes a mental note to herself to add 'Kono' to the list of researched items, and firmly reminds herself that just because someone indicates interest does NOT mean it's truly there... as she well knows.

Then she takes another deep breath, notices Dhaasul is awake, and heads quietly over to speak with him, if he'll speak with her. She gives a small, polite half-bow, "Dhaasul. Are you well?"

Dhaasul looks up, looking somewhat stronger and less like he was hit by a stampeeding bantha herd. "Oh, Padawan Freyja. I am well, thank you. I am doing somewhat better." He glances over at Jiosch and the canid. "Somewhat better than the Oathers, actually."

Freyja nods dryly, glancing at them, "Well... they, ahh... most of them weren't amenable to reason, I fear." She looks back at Dhaasul, then around at the rest of the room. She considers a moment, then indicates the edge of the bed and says, "May I sit, if I am careful?"

Dhaasul deadpans, or his species' equivalent, "I should be glad I have not indicated I would not see reason, yet, then. Please do."

Freyja grins cheerfully at the Mandragolan, then seats herself carefully. She's pleased... she can speak a little softer now. "I was wondering if I might ask you about someone I saw yesterday... a white-haired, male Human, who was apparently extremely advanced in his studies of the dark side of the Force. Umm... I was wondering who that adept was... the apprentice to Lord Methel-ssa, perhaps, or someone else?"

Dhaasul nods. "Fhazin Taas, formerly of Corellia. He recently arrived on Marnaas. He is Methel-ssa's apprentice, yes, though he feels he is almost ready for the rites which will make him a full Sith Lord. Methel-ssa disagrees, but he is in no rush to become a Lord, so he has not moved against her. He hopes that the conquest of this world will catapult him to the next stage of his lordship, that of finding his own world to master." He makes a bit of a confused face. "I think he's a little... how do you say... touched."

Freyja looks puzzled, "Wait... to become a Sith lord you have to... to what? Attack your own lord? Er... what do you mean by touched, please?"

"Not necessarily. Some Sith become impatient in their apprenticeship before becoming journeymen, minions and... and Hands to full Lords, and they try to destroy their lords. Some are successful, and they assume the rank of lord. The successful ones wait until they are considered ready -- and before their lords see them as threats -- to fledge. Ah... by touched, I mean... not exactly what I would call a... perfectly sane Human.

Freyja says, "Oh!" She considers for a moment, then says puzzledly, "Huh. So... why would a lord take an apprentice, then, if it might attack at some point?" With a grin, she adds, "There are sane Sith lords?"

"The Empire must have continuance. Not all Lords are as long-lived as Simus of the Echal Will. If you could call it 'long-lived.' And the lords interred on Korriban cannot rule the Empire. Each Lord would rather their legacy be passed down to a being they can reasonably trust will hold their name and word and land in good keeping." He smiles a little dourly. "There are, yes. For varying definitions of 'sane.' The old Massassi lords, the ones whose bloodlines have been Sith lords for thousands of years, cannot comprehend why or how the Republic functions. To them, Jedi are insane, the Senate is insane, everyone in the Republic is insane."

Freyja blinks in bemusement at the sudden flood of names, "Wait, wait, please... who is Simus of the Echal Will and how is it living? What is an Echal Will? Why are there interred lords, and why do they stay interred? Where is Korriban, who are the Massassi lords, and why do they think the Jedi are insane?"

"My apologies, Padawan Freyja. These are names simply not uttered in the Republic, because those who would exchange that information are soon at each others' throats. Simus... he is one of the most ancient of the Sith Lords. He lost a duel, centuries ago, to Naga Sadow's predicessor, but by his will and his sorcery survived. With nothing more than his head, but, he survived....."

Freyja looks horrified and disgusted, "He..." She shudders, then shakes her head, centering herself, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Go on, please."

At that moment, Quiet makes his appearance known, adding softly from the doorway, "I might be able to tell you something about that as well."

Freyja looks around, then nods, "Hello, Quiet. Certainly, I'd like to learn more." She glances at the sleeping injured and the Jedi on watch, then adds dryly, "Quietly... come over here and we can chat?"

Dhaasul says wrylly, and with humor, "I did say he had a strong will. A will made of Echal steel...." He looks over to the doorway, arching an eyebrow. "You are not Jedi...?" he says/asks.

Freyja says, "Oh! I remember now... Echal steel, right. Dhaasul, this is Zero Satau, Master Roakkana's pilot."

"More than just a mere pilot to anyone, I'd wager. Well met, Zero Satau."

Freyja smiles at the Mandragolan's comment, but makes no reply. She's still curious and wants to learn more.

Quiet enters, having gotten rid of his odd black second-skin outfit. Instead he wears a pair of loose black pants and soft-soled shoes, and a black jacket with a simple Mandarin collar over a simple white shirt. Somehow the loose clothing makes him seem smaller, even less imposing than usual. "Not Jedi? Heh... you know, I've been asked that a lot lately."

Freyja grins.

Dhaasul nods, a faint smile upon his lips. "Indeed?"

Freyja says, "So... what was it you could tell about, Quiet?"

Quiet grins a little with the unbroken side of his mouth. "Yeah, indeed." He straightens up a bit, folding his arms. "I've heard a few things. A fringe benefit of exposure to that side of the Republic... most of it's simply spacer's rumors, but a few things, well... hyperspace mappers tend to bring back a lot of wild tales. A few of them contain enough overlapping points to draw a certain picture of some things you asked about, Freyja.'

Freyja nods, listening.

Quiet says, "Like Korriban. The short answer to why they stay interred there, is because they're dead."

Freyja says, "Ah! So-" She pauses, thinking, then says slowly, "I... understand. It is a place to bury the dead lords, then? And that would explain why they cannot rule, of course." She thinks a moment more, then says, "Do you know who the Massassi are? -or where?"

Quiet nods. "Korriban's a necropolis. At least, according to what I can piece together. The oldest and worst, in all their finery. A lot of these tales involve... guardian spirits, the walking dead, all manner of superstitious nonsense. At least, I'd thought it was all nonsense..."

Freyja looks puzzled again, "Oldest and worst? Wait... bad rulers are honored most among the Sith?"

Quiet says, "They're all bad, Freyja... it was just a figure of speech."

Dhaasul perks a little. "Dead? After a fashion. As Jedi, we have traditions that say that one is never truly dead within the Force. Something, something vital, continues on, if even in a netherworld that we cannot reach. The strongest in the Force can... continue on, giving guiding light from beyond the death of the body. The Sith... have a similar.. but only similar... tradition."

Freyja wrinkles her nose thoughtfully, and says quietly, "Ew.... Wait. If that's the case, why did this Simus person not want to die?"

Quiet says, "Might be a bit hard to enforce your will on someone else from the far side of oblivion."

Dhaasul nods to Quiet. "I was told that all the Dark Lords of the Sith are buried on Korriban, and that in times of need one might find guidance from them if one were to go there. Of course, the guidance you would get from them has a price."

Freyja looks curiously at the Mandragolan, "So there's not really a very strong guidance from them? What's the price? Sanity?"

Quiet says, "Or obedience, would be my guess."

"Simus, from what Methel-ssa told me, holds strongly to life. It is said he fears the netherworld or oblivion, whatever awaits him after death, And this fear strengthens his will in avoiding death.

"As for the price they demand... I was not told. In fact, Methel-ssa advised me that if I ever had a choice between failure and seeking the advice of the interred Lords.. best to accept failure and a quick, clean death. That, though, was Methel-ssa's advice."

Freyja nods slowly and thoughtfully, murmuring under her breath, "So... they fear as well. Poor things." She looks up at the Mandragolan and nods, "Unsurprising, all things considered. Who has Simus? I can't imagine his head wouldn't be a highly contested prize, after all."

Quiet grins faintly. "Cold comfort, I'm sure. I do actually know a bit about the Massassi."

Dhaasul says, "Simus is his own. He is a lord who advises Naga Sadow. They are supposedly friends." He looks to Quiet. "Ah. The Massassi are unknown to me, as little more than a people the Sith rule over."

Freyja nods thoughtfully again, then looks inquiringly at Quiet.

Quiet says, "That much has been recovered by Republican intelligence as the Sith encroachment approached military action. Where they hail from isn't known, but they are more or less humanoid. Brutes with ruddy skin and peculiar whiskerlike growths on their faces. What little the Republic knows of them is that they obey Sadow's minions and serve as a sort of shock infantry."

Freyja says, "The Massassi? So they're a species, not a culture?"

Quiet says, "I couldn't say if they have one or not."

Freyja says, "Everything even vaguely sapient has a culture."

Dhaasul says quietly, "But after the Dark Lords have had their way with the Massassi for millenia... one's definition of 'culture' would need to be very flexible, I imagine."

Freyja says, "Hm. So why do they think Jedi and the Republic are insane?"

Quiet says, "What theirs may be isn't known. Thus far, all the information I've been privy to has come from the battlefield... leaving little room for anthropology." He smiles faintly.

Freyja considers that and looks, if anything, slightly more regretful. She wonders how the Sith justify their actions... maybe they believe might equals right? That's about the only justification she can think of, herself.

Freyja says, "So... what you're saying is the Massassi are already insane."

Quiet says, "Or at least properly motivated."

Freyja says, "And of course the insane would consider the sane to be insane..." She considers for a while, then says puzzledly to Dhaasul, "And you want to join this insane, backstabbing regime?"

Dhaasul tilts his head to the side. "I will use the argument that my sister gave, when I asked her the same question: Is it any worse, to be within the Sith Hierarchy, than it is to live under the political squabblings and arguments of the Republic Senate? Of an Order of users of the Force who are trying to stifle any opposition to them? Of a system that simply turns a blind eye to the excesses of crime lords and backwater worlds on which slavery is permitted? Which is preferable, a system that accepts everything it is, at face value, and makes no apologies for it... or a system where everything is made out to be better than it actually is, made out to be the best of all possible systems, and anything that comes counter to that is swept quietly into the sewers?"

"That was my sister's response, and it was exceedingly hard to convince her otherwise. Ultimately, she died true to her beliefs."

From accross the small room, Talmon is listening intently.

Freyja says quietly and firmly, "Yes. In the one, reasoned debate may change things for the better. In the other you must conform and kill, rule ruthlessly, serve with no guarantee that those above or below will not slaughter or abandon you for their plans..." She pauses and gives both Dhaasul and Talmon a long look at that, considering both of them were, in effect, abandoned as useless, "-or die... and even if you rule it's only until someone more brutal comes along and kills you."

Freyja says, "Where is there friendship in that scenario? Where does one find a love of learning, or artistry, or even just beauty? It's all subsumed in a ruthless stampede for power."

Quiet doesn't say anything. Really, it's not far removed from the life he's been living until very recently. Whether or not he returns to that life remains to be seen. He should be grateful for the option, he supposes.

Freyja says, "If you have trouble with lies -- confront them! If you think things are not yet right, do your best to make them so! But don't give up. That's what the Sith are doing -- giving up. Nothing can be good, so we'll just destroy, twist, or mutate it to our desires."

Freyja pauses, realizing she's on the edge of lecturing someone far more trained than she. She murmurs quietly, "Excuse me. I feel strongly about the courage to keep trying, and not descending into fear and despair as an excuse not to try any longer."

Quiet says, "Actually, Freyja, I would suppose that the Sith consider their methods to be good. But it's all subjective... and we are going on at length, no? Perhaps we should let our friends rest."

Freyja raises an eyebrow at the Human, then sighs softly and shakes her head, "No, it's not all subjective, not to the people involved... not to those harmed by it. But everyone has to make their own choices." She rises and nods politely to both Dhaasul and Talmon, "Good rest to you both." To Dhaasul she adds, "If you would like to discuss your Sith lord further, or her apprentice, I know either Master Roakkana or I would be pleased to listen."

Talmon's voice comes drifting from the other side of the room. "You've found the quandry, Padawan Freyja. Reasoned debate started the Syncretic Assembly. Reasoned debate continues in the Jedi Council and the Republic Senate every day. For many people -- for myself, the reasoned debate failed. The Bendu, the Kono, the Savalli Kho... all were declared off-limits. Nothing for the Jedi to learn about from them. And so I turned to the Sith, where there was no such strictures. But, yes, that came at a price, too. So now I stand at the cross-currents, and though I will accept my fate as a Jedi for my murder of Master Hul-Shan, responsibility for what I did, the qestion then becomes... what will I do? And that, I will wait to answer until after my fate is decided by the Tribunal. But it is not a question I dread the chance at asking."

Freyja pauses a moment in the door, and turns. She says simply, "Ask again. And again. And again, as many times as necessary, until reason prevails."

Quiet grins a bit, out in the hallway. "I meant you no offense just now. I was just offering a non-commital way for us to leave and let the wounded rest. There's ample time to learn. Why don't you make your inquiries of the Academy? Roakkana asked to see me... I suspect you aren't the only one about to receive an education." He smiles, "I'll meet you in the library. I need to file my own report to Kalatis."

Freyja says quietly, as she heads towards the monastery's terminals, "I shall." She makes no further comment, although she's somewhat disappointed Quiet would believe it was all subjective, considering his own experiences.

Freyja's request for research has indeed arrived -- in the Academy's usual way of dealing with remote research, they simply sent a dump of just about anything they had relating to her request. Bandwidth along the HoloNet is cheap; the turnaround time, to claify certain points, request more documents, dig into more detail, isn't.

Freyja settles down to read thoroughly. She has a lot of bits and pieces of very confusing information, and wants to try both to make some sense of it, and to piece it together into something coherent.

In the monastery's cloister, the late afternoon sun long having disappeared over the wall, Freyja has been perusing the reams of data that the Academy has helpfully provided. Some of it has been (rather irreverantly) annotated by a Jedi researcher named Yo'ki of Thuuna, who according to the notes lived ten thousand years before. With acerbic wit, Master Yo'ki -- who apparently lived in a much less decorum-conscious time for the Order -- tears apart some of historical commentary which has any hint of being less than perfectly well-thought-out, much as a university professor would devastate a student's sub-par work.

Freyja grins, finding the Master's honesty refreshing after all the backstabbing and whispers that have been floating around Marnaas in her recent experience.

Quiet, for his part, is being instructed on the finer points of being a Jedi. Having gone over meditation techniques earlier with Freyja, and a short discussion of what it means to be aware of the Force, Roakkana is instructing Quiet on the traditional use of the lightsabre as a tool towards focussing one's awareness of the Force. The particular lightsabre in question appears to be Roakkana's old one, which in a human's hands seems to generally be a three-handed grip. The blade itself is dialed down to a more reasonable length, fortunately, and Freyja meets with the Wookie and Quiet during this point.

Quiet has tossed his jacket aside and is still acquainting himself with the weapon. He doesn't seem to mind the length, though he seems a little trepidatious about actually swinging it indoors. "...you're certain this is all right." He traces out the patterns of a simple sequence of blows in the air with the unignited grip.

Freyja wanders in with a very bemusedly thoughtful look, and glances around. When she sees what's up she seats herself cross-legged, out of the way, and leans her head back against the wall for a while, eyes half shut, still just thinking silently and furiously, trying to put confusing snippets of information together into some coherent whole.

Quiet's movements are relatively sure; he has experience with all manner of weapons and more than a little experience in the galaxy's wide variety of martial arts. This is, however, a lightsabre after all... there's a great deal of gravity attached to this weapon. A symbolic weapon, certainly, but to Zero the idea of becoming a Jedi means possibly turning around his life. Secretly, he worries more about improperly handling that, than failing outwardly. He can always repair his body, after all...

Roakkana says confidently, "Certainly, Zero. You handle it much like a vibroblade, in that you don't let the blade touch anything you're particularly fond of. There are differences. You know how a vibroblade has two edges? The lightsabre, much like one's mind and one's stance within the Force, is all edge. It may cut forward and back, up and down, side-to-side. It requires constant awareness -- knowing the bearing of the blade by the handle alone is of no use. Again, like one's mind, it may cut in any direction it is used. This is not only 'convenient,' such as it is, but it is dangerous and requires attention." The Wookie looks over to the dooorway, and he smiles. "Welcome back, child. The Academy was it's usual overly-helpful self, I take it?"

Freyja smiles faintly and nods once. She's still so full of information she's having trouble mentally digesting it all... so she just watches for a few moments and concentrates on centering herself again.

Quiet hmms softly. He nods. "It's rather lighter than I expected it to be. I suppose you're right... knowing it by the grip alone does little good." So saying, he ignites the blade. Distinctive sound notwithstanding, it's obvious that this is not going to be the same as learning to use the vibroblade. He forgets himself for a moment and just examines the lit blade. It hums quietly.

Freyja smiles faintly again, watching Quiet and remembering her own almost reverent feelings the first time she lit up a sabre.

Roakkana watches Quiet, closely but comfortable with Zero handling the lightsabre. "It has been ten thousand years since Jedi forst took up the lightsabre," he says quietly after the lightsabre ignites, the golden blade casting a sallow light through the room. "It is a weapon that has passed into legend as much as it is a part of the Jedi's life. It's shimmering blade has been used as an allegory for the Jedi's journey in the Light, her devotion to the Light, a torch in the darkness. But never forget, Zero, that a lightsabre is not only a symbol of devotion and one's path of choice, it is a responsibility. The blade of the lightsabre cuts all ways."

That having been said, Roakkana takes a barely-noticable but significant step back, a pleasant expression on his face. "Now, slowly, try some of the opening stances you have been taught in the use of the vibroblade. See how different the lightsabre is comparitively -- the blade has no mass, for instance".

Freyja nods slowly, listening and remembering Roakkana telling her the same information. It's... oddly comforting... something solid and dependable, in a way. She may not be able to depend on the truth of everything she's been taught about the Force... but to her knowledge, her Master's always been open, honest, and fair with her. She values that.

Roakkana glances to Freyja. "You appear exhausted, child. Surely the Academy didn't give you more information to study than I did during your first exams?"

Freyja grins in spite of herself, "Well, no, Master... but it's certainly far more contradictory information this time!" She pauses, considering for a moment, then adds, "May I ask some questions while you teach, Master Roakkana?"

Roakkana nods, keeping his eyes fixed on Quiet. "Of course, child. And Zero might have some insight as well. What is troubling you?"

Freyja says, "Well... I've come across this, er... theorem called the Shattered Force model. It seems to imply we've all got only bits of the Force in us -- a sort of individual 'para-force' in each living thing. But... but then wouldn't mentally uniting to work together make a gestalt that was stronger than any of us individually? And if this is the case, would uniting dark and light individuals -- maybe even gray, if there really is such a thing -- be an even stronger aggregate of Force power than just lights, or just darks, working together? And if so... why haven't we done that?"

Quiet sighs quietly. Responsibility, he supposes, has been something he left to other people for a long time. He says, "If you trust that I can handle that, then I will not disappoint you." He takes up a simple stance, relatively indicative of the sort of styles he's used in the previous battles on Marnaas; simple, practical. Balanced, and just slightly aggressive. He traces the blade slowly through the simplest kata he can recall, things he learned as a very young man on the world he grew up on. The outward differences are obvious; the blade has no mass or weight, making it at the same time easier yet more difficult to control. Inwardly he muses on the nature of his first instruction... how to stop an enemy's attack. How to kill. And on the nature of this one... how to understand. In retrospect, he thinks, perhaps understanding should come first. Ah, well... no time for regrets. If there's any time to throw aside the past, this is it, Zero.

Roakkana watches Quiet's -- Zero's kata, with a silent, confident and warm smile, nodding as he watches the Human practice. "I trust you, Zero, but the important thing is that you trust that you can. The capability for responsibility is inherent within all of us. How much we take hold of that responsibility determines how much we may handle. If you take hold of a lightsabre unconfidently, you will be hurt. You control the lightsabre as an extension of yourself, because you are a part of it and it is a part of you. If you feel the lightsabre is in control, or if you handle it recklessly, then it will run away with you and you will hurt yourself -- or, more unforgivably, others." He looks to Freyja then, nodding. "Ah. The Valsarian Society. The heresy of the Valsar was that with the Shattered Force, there is no bond between any idea or object or being. All things are isolated. There is no connection between them. Terribly lonely, actually. It takes the actions of a user of the Force to bring them together, to make them come together. In the Shattered Force, everything is isolated from everything else. There is no unity. Worse, there is no reason for unity."

Freyja frowns puzzledly, "How can there be no reason for unity? I know Humans and Wookies, at the very least, are social animals. I'd think most culture-creating entities were, in fact. To create a shared culture requires working together, and sharing that creation. Surely that's a form of unity?"

Roakkana says, "Because in the Shattered Force, the spark of life within everything is the ability to use the Force in some way. The more capable one is to use the Force, to make para-forces come together, the more powerful one is. You are right, many gestalts can be eminently synergistic and beneficial -- the Republic in concept is the greatest example of this. Thousands of species coming together in relative peace! But some gestalts have unpleasant effects. Since they are at the forefront of our minds of late, the Sith have the ability to alchemically meld multiple creatures into a monstrous whole. Frankly, a dianoga merged with a bantha, for example, would be monstrous no matter how you meld them together. Is this a synergistic whole? Yes, it is. But is it beneficial? Is it good, to either the beings involved, or the persons who are confronted with such a creature?"

Freyja considers slowly for a while... then says, "That would not be good, no. But... what if, in an emergency, Force users were able to unite their abilities and do better together than they could do alone? Wouldn't that be a good thing? Would it even be possible, under this theory of Force use?"

"Or perhaps more prosaicly... the para-force of a skaav, the Valsarian metal ball-bearing, merged with the para-force of moving at durasteel-piercing velocities...."

Freyja looks bemused, "Non-living things have bits of the Force in them?!"

"Oh, of course, child. The Force is in everything. Even inanimate objects. It surrounds us, permeates us. Binds us together, as the Praxeum instructors are fond of saying."

Roakkana glances to Freyja, smiling, before looking back to Zero. "Jedi may unite their abilities even without emergencies. That, in fact, is what makes the Templars so powerful. They have ways, techniques, of allowing the five members of a Templar manus to act together, in perfect concert with one another. In battle their opponent faces, instead of five beings, a single being with five separate appendages. Templars have been known to defeat vastly superior foes, which is partly why the Republic fears them leaving the Temple.

"Now, is what the Templars are capable of, good or bad?"

Zero nods, though not speaking to add to the conversation. He knows nothing of the Shattered Force or Valsarians, but for some stories he'd heard about their use of unusual projectile weaponry from an old bounty hunter. That's unimportant right now. He finishes the simple sequence of motions and moves along into another, a more complex one he learned later in his career, all the while trying to absorb what Roakkana is saying. The blade cuts all ways... there is no mass, no edge to drive the stroke. He alone must make the cut. He alone... More memories come to mind; the sword instructor Kalatis introduced him to, after he'd agreed to become the Senator's blade. The Kaminoan woman had instructed him in how to hold his prevail against superior numbers, against equals, even how to hold his own against a blade master beyond his skill. He remembers her grace, and power beyond a being as slight as she... he'd always thought she must know something, some secret, to wield a blade so beautifully. Is this

Is this what she knew that he didn't? Is this what she understood?

Freyja says, "What they're capable of just is, Master. As you said, it is their intent that matters." She frowns as she adds in a low tone, "And... their intent may currently be of the best... but their manifestation of it is..." She pauses, considering what she's about to say, then says firmly what she believes, "-fatally flawed." She considers, then says slowly, "So the difference between us and the Valsarians is that we see the Force as mutually binding... and they see it as inherently separating?"

Roakkana nods in approval as he watches Zero. "Very good, Zero! Now, as you are performing the kata, consider this: the lightsabre is your mind, your awareness of the Force. You direct what it does, where it goes, what it cuts. This is the responsibility of the lightsabre and of your own mind.

"Exactly, child. Intent. Motive. Direction. Why we do something is as important as what. The Valsarians did not see a Force binding us together. They saw a Force sundered and split apart, brought together only by the will and ways of beings. However, as you have also noted, when beings come together with mutual drive and united motivation, they are capable of great things. Which, then, is the more accurate view of the Force?"

Freyja considers for a long while, absently watching Quiet move smoothly through kata as she thinks. Finally she says slowly, "I... don't know, Master. Is this like the blind men and the bantha?"

Zero takes this with a hint of a pause. Not a terribly long one, though. He begins a more complicated sequence of movements, something his sword master referred to as a blade dance but was simply a combination of the more advanced strikes combined with a series of stances designed to help balance and improve one's footwork... at the same time, broadening his focus. Rather than specific memories, he concentrates on the arc of his life as it has transpired. The sun in his desert home, waves and waves of strange natives coming out of the brush to fling themselves against the city's walls. The shot... the taste of blood in the midday heat. The day he left that world to find his way, the smell of that tramp frieghter. Fighting on a rooftop at dawn, the crux of a chase across an entire system, when he was still young and foolish enough to think himself a bounty hunter. Countless duties and firefights, on how many worlds, under the rain, snow, fire... his mercenary years seem to blur together in retrospect. Becoming Kalatis' catspaw in serving the Senate. A minor evil to serve his Republic. It seemed like a good tradeoff at the time. And the pay was good. But all this time, he wonders... what was the point? He doesn't notice that his movements are carrying the sabre quickly enough to softly intensify the humming of the blade, punctuating his movements as he describes the elaborate arcs. The point, he realizes, was survival, all this time. Nothing so noble-sounding as the honor or integrity of the Republic, no matter what he tried to make himself believe. Simply to keep breathing. How demeaning. I'm not an animal. Isn't there anything more for me to do with myself? And just then, he completes the kata. With a blink, it startles him out of his reverie... as he realizes that he already has his answer.

Standing straight and wiry, this is a pale-skinned Human, maybe in his early twenties, with a strong though not bulky build. His left cheek is marred by a long, straight scar that crosses his lips just alongside his nose, and his hair is a mass of short, choppy white spikes, swept back from his forehead. His features are sharp, his expression calm, although his wide, almond-shaped eyes hold back something akin to wry amusement in their violet irises. He wears a pair of soft, loose black pants, cut just a little wide for his frame and belted close at the waist, and a black jacket with a close Mandarin collar above, over a close-fitting white shirt. In the sash tied around his waist is stick a long-handled lightsabre, three-pronged at the hilt. A pair of soft-soled black shoes muffle his steps. His bearing is collected, his posture easy, loose, and the hint of a smile on the corner of his lips softens the incongruous lines of the scar.

The Wookie watches Zero, listens to Freyja, and simultaneously seems almost inexplicably happy. "Very well done, Zero," he says quietly, as the Human finishes the kata, "very well done indeed. I don't believe that there is more I can say except that the road you are on is just beginning, but you have already performed the most important and hardest part: the first step." He lets out a comfortable breath, and says merrilly to Freyja, "And wih regards to the blind men and the bantha, child, in a very real sense, yes, you are entirely correct. To see the whole, one must accept that there is more than what is being seen. If you believe that all you see is all there is, you won't bother to look deeper and further. Jedi orthodoxy states that the Force is within all things, binds us together. But there are more ways than this to looking at something as complex and all-encompassing as the Force. We cannot afford to ignore what others see. They are looking at parts that we may not yet have seen. We and the Sith, adherents of the two-sided Force, do not see all of it. Too much darkness and too much light can both just as easily blind."

Zero extinguishes the blade and adds, "But it is remarkable what you can see once your eyes are finally clear." He nods softly, "Thank you, Master Roakkana."

Freyja nods slowly, considering both Roakkana's and Quiet's words. Finally she says, "But... it's rather hard to ask a Sith to explain what they see to you. Fhazin Taas is the name of the mad apprentice to the Sith lord, for example... but can you really see him sitting down to calmly and reasonably exchange views on the Force with me?" She grins in spite of herself at that peculiar image.

Zero smiles a little, and for once it doesn't seem particularly ghoulish on his face. "I think it might be more a matter of considering their viewpoint rather than asking for it. One must know one's enemy, if not agree with or particularly like them."

Freyja sighs, "I agree... but I sure wish I could talk to them, sometimes, to better understand their viewpoint."

Zero adds, with just a little more smile, "And you know, I hardly consider their viewpoint relative."

Freyja smiles faintly at her fellow Human, "Just... subjective?"

Roakkana's expression quirks in a cheerful smile at the leels of meaning in Zero's words, and he inclines his head. "You are very welcome Zero. But Yoy did all the hard work." He looks to Freyja with an intrigued expression. "Fhazin Taas? Indeed? Oh, I have heard this name. A slightly atypical Sith, though his star is rising in the Hierarchy. This is not his first foray into the Mid Rim. Indeed, child, it may very well be as simple as that, though I daresay theosophy would not be on his mind at all if he was conversing with you."

Freyja nods glumly, quite aware conversations with Sith tend to be disturbingly one-sided.

Zero gestures as if waving something from the end of his nose and smirks a little. "Simply giving us pause to take our leave... and giving our former-Sith a chance to retain just a little dignity. You're more dangerous than I am, in your own way, you know."

Freyja gives Zero a puzzled look, wondering who he's talking to.

Zero gives Freyja a small smile.

Freyja asks curiously, "Who're you referring to, Quiet?"

Zero snickers softly. "I was talking to you, Freyja. You scarcely gave that man a chance to collect himself. No need to pummel him into submission just yet."

Freyja blinks puzzledly again, "Who? Who gave us pause to leave, then?"

Zero says, "I did, Freyja. I was taking advantage of the pause to detach us from further debate... I think Talmon was beginning to feel somewhat, mm, vulnerable."

Freyja says, "Oh. Sorry." She looks curiously at the Wookie, "So... what have you heard of the apprentice, Master Roakkana?"

The Wookie settles himself into a chair with a faint chuff of breath. "Knowing one's enemy is only half of the battlemaster's philosophy, though. Knowing one's self is the other half." He thnks for a moment. "The Sith, of course, are not the only tradition which embraces the dark side. If I may, child, you may find some success first with understanding the ones who walk in between the light and the dark, and others besides the Sith who share a view of the dualist, Unifying and Living Force.

Freyja nods with interest, settling comfortably to listen intently.

Zero smiles, "It's alright, Freyja. Simply doing what I thought was best." He pauses to wait to hear what Roakkana has to say, still holding the lightsabre grip in both hands.

Roakkana grins a little. "Fhazin Taas made a name for himself, apparently, by rather dramatically hijacking an unfortunately unmanned freighter out of Corellia -- unfortunate in that he did not have an audience. He has always aimed more for glory than anything else. In this, we are fortunate. He is not as capracious as most Sith, instead wishing to win loyalty and devotion rather than beat it out of people. A trait, I understand, that Naga Sadow shares in a much lesser degree. I find it surprising that the thus-far relatively quiet and reserved Methel-ssa is this one's master, however.

Freyja says curiously, "Why is that?"

Zero says, "Perhaps he sees an opportunity. Perhaps they both do, come to think of it."

Freyja wonders with faint startlement if maybe the Sith apprentice was sincere, previously... then mentally shrugs. So he was sincere... so? He still probably wasn't interested in her, but rather in the Padawan of the new Master of the local monastery. Plus, being around him is still stomach-churningly unpleasant, within the Force. For the first time she wonders, with equal startlement, if the Sith find Jedi as nauseating to be around as the Jedi find them.

"Methel-ssa seems to be possesed of single-minded determination and subtlity, wishing to act quietly. She wanted the Inspector dead before we got to her, she bided her time while the Oath of Fire was still active, she has hired local thugs instead of relying on Sith minions. And we have seen her but once. Fhazil, if his behavior is any indicator, will be supremely unable to keep from being involved in everything, for the chance to prove himself. And you are probably right, Zero. Though a master-apprentice relationship is of neccessity a long term. I must wonder, then what brought these two together.

Freyja grins, wondering if Fhazil would answer truthfully, if asked that question.

Zero says, "I may have some idea."

Freyja gives Zero a curious glance, as does Roakkana.

Zero says, "Perhaps there's mutual benefit to be had. Perhaps Methel-ssa has something to impart to Fhazil... a means to more power, skills, whatever. In return, Methel-ssa has a powerful catspaw... someone that not only does her bidding, but willingly, eagerly in fact, takes the spotlight for her. Welcomes it! The possibilities for someone given to long-term scheming are rather fertile, no?" He adds with a grin, "Not all the possibilities bode well for Fhazil, but... I'm sure he's already considered that, himself."

Freyja thinks about that, then nods... that makes sense. She wonders if the Sith can tell the approach of Jedi Masters, the same way she can feel Sith lords and that apprentice. Then she doubtfully wonders if she's good enough at the Force yet to even have the Force react around her like it does around Fhazil, but light-side. She doubts it. Finally she wonders if Fhazil will survive Methel-ssa's attempt to take over Marnaas. Is it really in the Sith lord's best interests to let him leave -- to send him off to win his own world?

Roakkana makes a quiet sound. "Indeed. Fhazil's prospects, taken in that perspective, seem rather bleak. If not at the hands of a Jedi guardian with much more skill than Fazhil has bravado, then at the hands of someone within the Hierarchy."

Freyja says with quiet curiosity, "Master Roakkana... can Sith tell the approach of a Jedi Master the same way we can tell the approach of a Sith lord?"

Roakkana looks to Freyja. "Not in the same way. What Jedi Colburth and younger guardians call 'darksider blight' is a representation of the core beliefs of the Sith. The Force exists for them to alter the world around them. They thus twist and mold the Force, even when they aren't thinking of it, because they are feeling about it. Emotion, not thought, is the Sith way, and they give rein to their subconscious. Thus, some part of them is always tugging at the Force unnaturally. Thus, the blighted, nauseous feeling that those sensitive to the Force experience when near so-called darksiders. Some traditions which would not be called darksider would result in similar feelings in the Force-aware around them.

"Jedi typically see themselves in some sort of harmony with the Force. For us, touching and shaping the Force is a deliberate act, one we do not just let happen. Ironically, in contrast to the reputation for subtlity that the Sith have, Jedi are more subtle in the Force than they. However, the Sith can, in their way, sense Jedi, when we are touching the Force. I am given to understand that it feels like a change in current that one is swimming against. A master, scrying through the Force with no precautions taken, can seem to a Sith unpleasantly like being dragged out to the deep ocean by a severe riptide.

Zero smirks a bit. "How terrible, I'm sure."

Freyja nods thoughtfully. "That would explain Fhazil being momentarily bemused when I tried Friendship on him, then. So... when is one good enough at it to be detected, Master Roakkana?"

"He most likely sensed your atempt to touch him though the Force, and having shaken it off realized it was you and what you had tried to do." He looks surprised at the question then chuckles softly. "Like all things, child, it depends on how carefully someone is listening. I suspect, however, that after 400 years I tend to leave a bit of a wake in the Force no matter where I go. This, I fear, is why I have mostly remained at the monastery and left you and Zero to go hither and yon and get into trouble. I am certain that Methel-ssa -- and likely Fhazil, as well -- would be able to sense if I moved from the monastery, and either avoid me or provoke a confrontation depending upon their plans. This, at least, is your advantage."

Freyja grins at the 'get into trouble' comment, but nods at the rest of the Wookie's commentary. Then she gets a curious look, "Can you tell when they're leaving wherever they are too?"

Roakkana says, "Not easily, I fear. When one leaps into a pool and thrashes about, the water becomes chaotic, the waves become confused. In contrast, if you walk into tha still pond, the wake of your passage is fairly clear. There has been so much violence within the Force in the past two days that the waves are still settling down, one might say. Even if that were not the case, I can sense them both, on this planet, but until they do something other than simply exist here, that is all I can sense without trying to deeply scry them through the Force."

Freyja nods slowly, wondering if maybe she could far-see them. She knows where at least one of them was, quite recently, after all. Then again... it's been several hours. She sighs softly, Don't think I can follow that long, even if I wanted to.

Roakkana eyes Freyja carefully, and says softly, "Your skill with seeing through the Force is strong, child, but you must be warned: sometimes, if the one you are seeking is strong enough... they can see you.

Freyja nods, unsurprised. "I shan't try anything foolish, Master Roakkana. I'd rather not get hurt through lack of forethought." She smiles ruefully, "And I'm not sure I'm good enough to follow Fhazil through farseeing for that long."

Roakkana smiles, then and nods. "I would rather the same thing. Knowing Fhazil -- no, rather knowing Methel-ssa, she would have had him clear his trail. no matter how much he would have wanted to be followed."

Freyja laughs quietly, her eyes bright with amusement. She is silent for a moment, thinking again. Finally she says slowly, "Master Roakkana, I have a question I've not been able to figure out an answer to. I... well, it's just that... if it's best to have a balanced Force within one, how does one deal with pain and suffering in the worlds? Do you just ignore the pain of others? Or worse, do you have to create it in order to maintain balance? How is one both balanced, fair, and not mechanicanistically cruel? Judgment without mercy is not justice, after all... is it?"

The Wookie takes in a deep breath, almost a sigh, and looks a bit older, if that's possible. "Child, that is a question that has bothered... that has worried proponents of the Balanced Force for millenia, if not tens of millenia. There never were any answers. The Bendu remain within their monastery because they cannot properly answer it. The quandry is that if one is in balance, then to correct the balance of the world outside one's self means one must become unbalanced. Some sects who have pursued this question self-destruct in a fit of cenobitic ennui, unable to accept that they must destroy almost everything that they have worked so hard to achieve within themselves in order to help others, in whatever way.

"Others -- such as the Silver Path, and their antecedents the Kono -- knew they could not achieve balance within while letting the world without remain unbalanced, so they sought to balance the world outside first, then themseles within. But this, too, resulted in dramaticly tragic events, as I suspect has happened here on Marnaas.

"The only moral reasoning is to preach balance, tell people of its importance, and hope that they listen... and balance their actions if they hurt others, but no more. This is what the Kono originally believed. You cannot make others be balanced, you cannot make them believe you. You can only state your case and hope they comprehend and have the strength of will to do the same. If you become unbalanced in the process, so be it -- you must have the strength of character to re-center yourself when you have done what you needed to do. All told, however, most of... those who believe in the need for a Balanced Force agree that it is most easilly achieved in a time and place of peace, and tolerance, without undue and destructive factors. In that, the Republic is the preferable environment. I daresay that in the Sith Empire such bengs would be laughed at, then destroyed if they gained too much of a foothold."

Zero hms and folds his arms. "There may be no such thing as perfect balance. It seems the galaxy at large is constantly in motion, doesn't it? Is that necessarily a bad thing? To stay balanced while still in flux, that seems like the challenge of a Force-user in the real world. After all... what might have happened to me, had I remained static in my ways? If there's stasis, there's no room to improve. I would think the point is to live in balance as much as one can."

Roakkana nods, "That is another factor, yes, Zero. Both extremes of Light and Dark seek, ultimately, stasis. There is another factor, somewhere, in the philosophies, something missing... but there are precious few sources to research in that respect," he adds.

Freyja considers for a long moment, then finally says slowly, "So... we just keep trying? It's a journey with a goal that can never be achieved?"

"Of course not, child. The journey itself is the goal."

Freyja sighs softly, a bit regretfully... then says quietly, "So... ultimately the goal is to find the missing something in the philosophies that will allow one to move with balance through imbalance?"

Roakkana makes a small gesture. "If that is your goal. For most Jedi, the goal is peace, order, a Galaxy where they and their families can look forward to the future unafraid. A noble enough goal, but it brings stasis, no change. Even the Sith want something reasonably noble: a dynamic, active world where the spectrum of emotion can be felt. Of course, the journey for them is much less preferable than that of the Jedi. The Kono wanted so very badly to avert that stasis that both Jedi and Sith seem to crave. Instead, they spawned the misguided Silver Path. If you wish to know what will bring about a balanced, healthy, active and thriving good galaxy, the answers will not be found solely in Jedi orthodoxy, nor -- at least, by the Force I hope not! -- in the Sith's teachings. But neither will the Bendu have your answer, for they've locked themselves away in their monastery for thousands of years. Nor will the Kono, who've been gone these past ten thousand years and whose greatest legacy is a noble goal tarnished with too much of the wrong blood."

Zero says, "It might not be missing. I'd think it's not what you do, but how you do it. If you're truly balanced on the inside... you'd have to be acting in good faith, wouldn't you? It's almost self-fulfilling."

Roakkana smiles to Zero. "I recall a conversation much like that. Yes, one's actions are only half of it. One's motivations are the other half. Could it be as simple as that? To have good intentions? Why couldn't it? But what if one's intentions were to stop the Great Hyperspace War... by annihilating the worlds of the Sith Empire. Surely the Sith are the cause of this war, and if by destroying their worlds we would destroy them, then would that not save countless people?

"That's a horribly rhetorical question. I would not condone that, even if that were the only way to stop the Sith. Which I firmly believe it is not.

Freyja nods quietly.

Freyja says slowly, "Well... where is it, then, Master? Does anyone know?"

"Nobody knows, Freyja. I am confident, though, that it's something that can be discovered, and learned, and passed on. However... wether anyone listens is another matter entirely!"

Freyja grins amusedly, and nods. She's quite familiar with that situation... unfortunately.

Zero says, "It's all I know how to do presently, Master. To do what I think is best. The best we know, at any rate. After all, it's as you said... half of one and half the other. The best of actions with the best of intentions, yes?"

Freyja nods quietly again, "And listening to those whose opinions you trust, to catch you when you err, yes."

Roakkana spreads his hands. "Right now... that is all anyone, including yourselves, can ask of you. Trust yourselves to be able to know what the right thing to do is, and do it. Let yourselves not be blinded, by light orby dark. These questions, of warring philosophies, missing pieces, theosophies of the Force... they will have import for you in time. Keep them in mind. For now, do what you must do. No matter our philosophies, as Jedi we are still charged with certain secular duties which we are relied upon by the people of the Republic and the galaxy as a whole."

Zero says, "That much, Master, I think is within our power.

"I'm going to take a walk around the battlements, if you don't mind, Master. Try to sort myself out a bit. It's been rather a long day for all of us. Freyja, if you like, you're welcome to join me."

Roakkana grins quietly, then stands. "Certainly. There'll be much to do on the morrow, so you both get some rest. For now, I'm afraid I must deal with the report that Jedi Colburth and I need to send to the Council. This may take a while...." With that, he takes his leave, meandering through the corridors of the monastery.

Freyja gives Quiet a curious glance, then nods to the departing Wookie. She rises fluidly to follow the other Human out. "Certainly, Quiet. What's up?"

Zero picks up his jacket on the way out. He doesn't say much until they reach the actual battlements. The sun's just gone down, leaving a wide orange dome on the horizon beyond the distant spaceport. "It occurs to me," he says, pulling on his jacket, "That perhaps I haven't been perfectly straight with you these past few days."

Freyja smiles faintly, pacing along quietly next to Zero, but doesn't interrupt.

Zero says, "And I want to apologize. I won't try and excuse myself... but I have not given you the credit you deserve, Freyja. Or the respect, at times. And... I'm sorry."

Freyja gives Zero a curious sideways glance, "The credit I deserve? I'm not sure what you mean...?"

Zero says, "I simply haven't been treating you as a partner in this. It should have been obvious from the moment we arrived that we are all in this to the finish... but, well..." He sighs a little. "Perhaps I've not been thinking so clearly. You're every bit as capable as I, Freyja. Moreso, in many ways. And I would like to think of us as partners, especially now.""

Freyja comes to a stop, turning to face Zero. Her quiet smile is more genuine this time, lighting up her face, "Thank you, Zero. I was hoping we might be able to be partners... and I appreciate your faith in me." She hesitates, then adds a little dryly, "I know I'm not as trained in the martial arts as you are... but I'll do my best not to slow you down."

Freyja is a tall, willowy female human with tanned skin. Her steady, often unblinking gaze is ice-blue, while her thick, soft brown hair is cropped short, with one long, thin braid. She makes no wasted movements, standing quiet and impassive when she's not in action. Her pragmatic clothing consists of snug breeches, a cropped athlete's top, taped wrists (all in sturdy, natural-colored cloth), and well-worn boots.

Zero smiles, and even in this light it's definitely not ghoulish anymore. "I'll make you a deal, Freyja. If you can help me deal with learning to live with the Force... I'll help you deal with learning to handle the people in it."

Freyja beams with pleasure again as she turns to continue walking with him. "I'd be very happy to, Zero... and thank you."

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