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Master Kast    547

Funny thing life is. After herding up Varia into the ship, and gathering what supplies they could take, it was a bumpy ride all the way to Coruscant. There of course, was the remains of what had once been her home. Apparently three years changes things. The embassy was not what she sought, though confirming her living status was a good step, she wanted a proper enclave to meet with the grandmaster and to hand Varia over for proper training. 
Why couldn’t life just be easy instead of funny? Her old office had been destroyed in the destruction, what little of it that was hers that remained had been put into storage, it would take awhile to retrieve her things. Such is life, she would have to wear rags a bit longer. 
With an order to deliver her personal belongings to Dantooine, it was only a hop skip on over to Dantooine. Of course Varia complained the whole way, first of the choice of direction then of the lack of vengeance for her family. (The girl would not give up until her ear was nearly yanked off by Ellina)
Landing on a new planet had never felt so good. Ellina almost felt like her old self barking orders at a poor knight that used to wander around Coruscant at night. Though happy to be a step closer to this venture being over, Ellina was far too wound up to be polite or to answer a heap of questions form curious faces. Ellina had made quick and short orders to get the orphaned girl into training immediately, then requested the direction of the grandmaster’s chambers. 
Not quite ready to face the music of her extended absence, but not wanting to prolong it either, she marched her way over with her head low, a hard limp to each of her steps. Force she could use a strong drink for this. Her body ached from moving so much in such a short amount of time, and her head pounded from the lack of sleep. Glares were given to each individual who looked her way, most glances telling her she looked as horrible as she felt, or maybe she was just the walking dead. 
Finding clothes that fit had been difficult with Varia’s mother being so slim. At the very least she had gotten a fresh shirt. Pants however were not an option, so marched the limping ghost of Master Kast, half clothed in designer wear and half in blood stained ripped rags. 
She was starting to feel really self conscious when she finally entered the council chambers. Weary of anyone being in there she paused, looking up to the four seats in the room with a sudden wave of calm washing over her. For being so simplistic, it was beautiful. The council room meant protection. For the first time in years she let her shoulders relax and her tension release around her. 
‘Home’ was the first thing that came to her mind. Jedi, council, safety, all followed after. Truly, even with her mind humming with whispers unsaid and faces in the corner of her eyes that weren’t there, she finally felt peace. She felt safe. 
Stepping up to one of the chairs slowly, she let one of her hands brush the back curiously. Who sat here? Who held these seats and kept things running now? Had she not been attacked, would one of them be hers? Would she still be considered a jedi master after being missing for so long? 
Should she be?
A small pit of anxiety filled her stomach, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the seat, contemplating not only her recent past and struggle, but now her fate and future. The force had played nothing but cruel jokes on her so far, what would be it’s next?



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The funniest thing about life, was the way it was forever changing. As he sat silently within the meditation chambers in the Dantooine Enclave, his mind was far from the troubles of the mundane; trivial Jedi politics within the Enclave, Masters who disliked their students, students acting unruly within the confines of the Enclave and in the greater community, and more. Here within the deepest reaches of the Force, the Grand Master found himself almost totally immersed in the current, following the rippling vibrations of the midiclorians as they ebbed and flowed throughout the galaxy. 


It was here in the stillness of the Force, that C'erian could feel entirely whole. Without the pressures of the outside world, he could meditate deeply without fear of interruption. He could forget his titles, his names, his own being and for a short period become part of something much larger and more omniscient than himself. His own body was nothing but matter, in the deepest reaches of the Force where no light existed except for the constant glow of the Force swirling around the galaxy. He could sit outside of his own body, disconnected from the very reality that surrounded it, and simply completely immerse himself in the constant weaving of time and energy that forever took place outside of the conscious minds of mortals.


It was dangerous at times. Sometimes the pull of the Force felt almost too great, the sense of oneness and serenity so impressive, that he found himself almost slipping forever from conscious mind into the universal hive mind, blending his own body and soul with the Force and becoming one with it forever. Yet as he found himself trying, a conscious part of his body found itself screaming into reality, reminding him that he was only a visitor in the spectral plane for now; that he had far more to do before the Force would allow him to join it. It was in moments like this that the face of Jakar Forsetti flashed into his mind, his face telling him ever so clearly (without speaking) that it wasn't his time. 


Slowly, and with great care, C'erian pulled himself out of his reverie, allowing his signature to drain back into his conscious shell. Sensation began to fill his muscles and fingers again, as he slowly adjusted to the physical world, after spending months in constant meditation. Joints that hadn't been used for all that time began to flash back into sensation, slowly forcing his eyes open, waiting for them to adjust to the light. It hadn't of course been months, only a matter of hours since he stepped into meditation, yet time felt different when so completely immersed in the Force. Hours felt like centuries, and centuries like hours. He would awaken from meditation sometimes with no grasp of how long he had been gone - but, as he slowly blended into reality, his sense of time and progression kicked in, telling him it was still the same day that he had stepped into his meditation.


He pulled his legs out from underneath him, and placed them firmly on the ground - not standing up, but allowing himself to adjust. Blood rushed from his squished legs and pins and needles flowed through his extremities, quickly subsiding. He tilted his head as reality began to clear; feeling a presence in the Force that he hadn't felt for such a long time. A smile began to form in the corner of his mouth, quickly replaced with regret over the way he had left his former Master. 


Ellina had come to Dantooine; where she had been, what she had been doing, almost irrelevant. As soon as he was able, he stood up, finding his balance and opened the door. It was only a quick walk from the meditation room to the Council Chambers, but Ellina was doing nothing to cloak her signature in the Force. The doors slid open as he walked towards them, and he strode through, looking towards the woman he had once called his Master, 'Master Kast, it is an honour to have you within our chambers. Welcome.'


Yet, something was wrong; different with the woman he had once known. He said nothing, letting his greeting speak for itself. 

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Master Kast    547

It wasn't uncommon for her to space out into her own thoughts, her neck mildly twitching in response to silent whispers in her ears, sometimes a quick flick of her hand to brush them away. So she wasn't entirely sure how long she had stood there simply letting her thoughts play over and over the horrid possible outcomes of her future. 

Did she want to come back to the order? Yes of course. Was that a possible outcome? Debatable. More than anything she missed the security and safety of the order and what peace it offered her. Politics and meetings were all rubbish, she hardly paid any attention to them before, but did her best to keep up with events. Now, she felt entirely like an outsider looking in simply standing in the council chambers. Were her previous padawans left alive? Not that she would expect them to wait for her. Hell she hadn't left even a note for her absence, she had never thought she would be gone for this long. A day or two was usual but... 

Almost three years now that she did the math, several chuckles in her mind echoed against her horror of realization. She flicked them away as well, laughing at her obliviousness was uncalled for. Still though her shock remained, her padawans were most likely knights now. Unless they waited for her, unlikely at best, but had they she wondered how she could possibly approach them and tell them she couldn't be the same as she was?

Another soft voice taunted her ear with temptation of returning to space, finding and uncharted world and suffering there rather than disappointing those wonderful young ones. Was that Xaja? Or Izzy this time? Again she swiped it away, tucking her hair behind her ear at the same time. Closing her eyes and taking a long deep breath, she focused instead on the soft waves of the force around her. Sensing the ones training outside, the people walking up and down the halls, she was still sensing out and trying to ground herself when she felt him. Her shoulders stiffened, preparing herself for the worst tongue lashing a jedi master could provide, until the familiar pulse registered in her mind as to who it was that was about to enter. 

 'Master Kast, it is an honour to have you within our chambers. Welcome.'

She almost couldn't bear to believe it, but her senses hadn't lied to her yet. Then again why wouldn't they now? When her hope was at her highest, she would be devastated if she turned around and the face did not match the voice. It was with a great steeling of nerves that she turned to finally face him, her teeth sharply biting into her lower lip. 

"C'erian?" Though he was aged from the last time she saw him, it was no doubt her former padawan, sort of. He appeared to had aged not really physically, but obviously mentally. No longer was the worn young man she had greeted in the docking hangar of Vornu, nor was the uneasy man she had cornered in the Archives and practically yanked into being her padawan. This was a seasoned and affirmed Jedi master before her, and there was no hope of calming the swell of emotions that burned in her chest threatening to explode.  It was like someone let loose fireworks in her lungs and chest, and though they exploded they had no where to go. 

Force have mercy on this poor child, for he was about to be smothered. As much as a Five foot two anorexic swap rat could smother a person. 

She hobbled as quickly as her leg would let her to propel herself like a rag doll onto the poor man, her thin arms wrapping around him as tightly as possible. Though for her, she could feel the weakness in her grip, no matter how she flexed her arms or how much strength she willed into her body, it simply was not there to be used. Had he wished, he could easily out maneuver her or pry her off of him. Not that she would be too happy about it, he was the first face she had seen that held comfort and memories with it. Someone she knew and trusted that wasn't dead. She was positive at some point his voice had been as the others on Borga, haunting her thoughts and accusing her of her obvious failures as a master and jedi. But here was proof they were wrong, that she was wrong, and that those voices were just mere illusions just like she kept telling herself. 

"Kriff I have so many questions..." Her voice strained to get out the words, cracking even as they came out, then came the sobs. Horrible, ugly, snot running, choking on just the air sobs. Her vision was completely gone as tears took over her eyes and ran freely down her face. 'He's definitely going to lock me up for crying like a nutcase, but at least I got to see him first.'

"I'm so sorry."

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