Chapter Text
Voice - Jarren Darmond
As it turned out, Jedi Pann’s threat to visit Eredenn Prime’s winter zone hadn’t been quite so empty. Jarren, Usia, and their shared Ossovar were thankfully aboard their shuttle above the frozen wasteland, but soon they’d be out in it.
To Jarren, it made no sense to brave the deadly winds just to intercept these unknown visitors to the Tion. Why not observe from a distance, and engage them—in conversation or combat—once they were on more even ground?
Usia had said so, but only both Padawan’s votes would change her mind. It was up to Jarren to find his voice.
Sound - Liise Teema
As a Nautolan, Liise Teema’s auditory perception wasn’t as well attuned as it was for many other Jedi. Despite this, the crystals of this world sang to her. Although this was typically true of only one or two specific crystals per individual, Liise could hear almost every one.
It had made the Gathering exponentially more difficult. Every step of the way, the kyber seemed to cry “Pick me!”
She had sat on the ice, listened to the Force of the kyber, and from within. Learning to distinguish the two had led her to a crystal, pink like Glee Anselm’s coral.
Chant - Var Khoonda
Fillorean Plaza teemed with protestors, incensed at Ranz Kymoodon’s latest speech. The Chancellor had declared he had no intention of reviving the Republic’s navy. Now the colonists, industrialists, and the militarists demanded his head.
They knew they were a small minority, but on a planet like Coruscant, a percentage of a percentage was still a potential catastrophe.
“Kymoodon we want you gone!” and “Never send a Shimholt to do a Man’s job!” were repeated for hours. By now Var’s amusement had worn away, and he found he actually missed meeting with the Challat senators.
This mob was just noise. Pointless.
Echo - Kessenell Fest
Coruscant’s Jedi temples perched halfway up a mountain, but one could be forgiven for thinking it sat at the base. The city had largely buried the sacred cliffs and crags; Kessenell’s climb was nothing compared to the pilgrimages of ancient Notron, as Coruscant was once known.
This was a spiritual experience. The Force echoed here. As she climbed Kessenell could faintly hear Padawans and Ossovars arguing, sisters laughing, partners declaring their love.
She could also hear her mother begging the Jedi for help. Her daughter had ‘It’ and the gene-splicers wanted ‘It’ more than anything. On Arkania, Kessenell was property.
Silence - Napar Heq’uuj
It would have surprised many of Napar’s contemporaries to learn where he was, but not his closest friends. In a remote valley on Corulag was the site of an ancient duel, where a Jedi student had killed his teacher.
The student had been right to. Had the Great Schism led to a permanent split, chances were the two Jedi sects would still be at war. Thankfully that outcome had been averted.
Napar had made light of it all when his Mentor had brought him here years ago, but the overwhelming silence of the site had made an impact that lingered.