Open Ajan Kloss Remembrance

Hannibal Grayza

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Mr. Teatime
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Hannibal found himself once again on Ajan Kloss. He did seem to always wind up back here one way or another. This time however he had wandered away from the temple, to a spot he had found while he was still just a Padawan. He was sat down before a large lake opposite a distant waterfall, the sound and the water-cooled breeze washing over him. He watched the afternoon sun glimmer and dance across the surface of the lake, lost in thought. Birds sang in the trees nearby, calling for mates at the height of the planet's spring. Idly, Hannibal threw fish food into the water and observed as they were picked off by a sudden flurry of shadowy motion beneath the surface.

After a few moments he shifted his view downwards. Directly before him sat an old, cat-eared helmet, worn from use. The blue outer shell was scratched in some places, but otherwise it was in remarkably good condition. It never got worn anymore, after all. The original owner had long passed away into the Force, killed by a Sith on Coruscant while she defended the prison. Hannibal was here to remember her.

To it's left and right sat small bundles of incense sticks, four groupings of ten each, to represent ten thousand. In his father's native language, ten thousand often represented an infinite number of things. The incense represented the untold many others who had been killed, from the attacks on Coruscant to the plagues of Nar Shaddaa, to every little village on a backwater planet. Uncountable and untold numbers of dead. Small compared to the galaxy at large, of course, but that made little difference to the young man. Hannibal was here to remember them, too.


He reached out his left hand, bare skin touching the shadowed surface. Distant echoes rose up through him, faded memories and voices. He did not focus on them much, really. He just liked hearing the voices. The brave young woman who had worn the helmet had been a vibrant soul, a person Hannibal had taken a quick liking to. Few people knew the young man particularly well, and he held each of them close to his heart. Hannibal's was a long lived species, experiencing much over the course of their lives assuming it wasn't violently cut short. He had a feeling he would remember her for the rest of his life, however long that may be.

"I still think of you every day, you know," he spoke quietly into the empty air, though there wasn't really anyone around to hear as far as he could tell. It was mostly for himself. "The Council made me a Master, after everything that happened. It was a strange feeling, honestly. I didn't really think I'd ever really get there. They must really be desperate, eh?" He paused for several seconds, lifting his hand from the helmet and placing it gently on his folded leg. "Things are chaotic out in the galaxy. People are dying. I don't want to fight, really, but I don't want people to die, either. I have more friends now, though. People I trust, n' whatever. We'll keep fighting as long as we need to, I think."


He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out in a long, soft sigh. The Force flowed gently into him, a river that brought him peace from the many things that troubled him. The quiet chaos of life he was so attuned to filled him in this out of the way little grotto, helping to wash away his fears. The flames of war licked ever higher, burning away lives in path of the Sith. He felt he would need to steel himself for what was to come.

"I hope you found peace in death, Nashyr. You won't be forgotten." He bent slightly forward in a seated bow, the scents of burning incense and crushed grass intermingling. The sound of wind through the trees and over water filled his ears. Drops of water dripped down the old helmet, some settling in the grass it sat in. Hannibal wished it was raining, like last time. He wished he could find peace.
 
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Maxims Tionson

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He wasn't usually back on Ajan Kloss these days but when he was he liked to try and get lost in the nature surrounding the Temple rather than the Temple itself. It wasn't that he disliked the Temple so much as he much preferred the grounds it was situated on instead. It was not the first time he had gone for a wander well past what most would consider acceptable for a little stroll.

It wouldn't be the last either.

If having more grey hairs than half the current roster of Jedi was worth anything it was the freedom to wander around and generally act like an old man enjoying his remaining time. He was walking along the edge of the water when he felt a presence approaching, one that was not here for him so he paid it no mind.

Until he recognized the presence and where, exactly, they were. He had come across the shrine, for lack of a better, word, some time ago and part of him had wanted to tell the Council. They would have given everyone involved a lecture about denying the more obsessive nature of attachment and removed the shrine.

But he hadn't.

He couldn't go through with it then and he knew he never would be able to. To those who had not known her, it was merely a symbol of those lost and for those who had known her? Well... he felt they all deserved to have something to hold onto. He couldn't exactly talk about not keeping attachments considering he still flew in her ship.

The Tigris had been his since she had passed and though he had another ship, he knew he'd be keeping it until the day he died.

So he approached Hannibal quietly and without any intention of actually saying anything. Instead he stood to one side, picking up a small, smooth, river rock and turning it over in his hand again and again. He listened as his friend spoke not out of a desire to eavesdrop but so that he could respond once he noticed he was here as well.

He skipped the rock across the tranquil waters, causing a dozen ripples to live and die within a moment. There was probably something poetic about that but suddenly he felt so very old, each one of his years and more besides.

A father who had outlived his child.


@Mr. Teatime
 

Indy Sati

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Indyana hadn't meant to come out this far into the woods.

It seemed more and more lately the Force thrust her into situations that would fill her with doubt of her usefulness to the galaxy; she was a scholar, an archeologist. She hardly had any friends or allies here, and the few she socialized with she only knew through missions and expeditions.

She had heard about what happened to Nashyr Rys, how she was a student of Maxims, and a person very close to three Masters on the Jedi Council. She heard many things about the woman that she wasn't sure to believe; that she was a lover of one of them, a friend to two others, and that she helped save so many. Indy hoped to serve that same level of sacrifice... but the sorrow here was just as strong as the grief.

It was raining... but inside the souls of those that came here. She was here for one person, but another person she cared for was here, equally grieving in his own way. She wouldn't hail them, but keep her distance and allow them as much space as they wanted.

She walked as silently as she could, dressed for once like a Jedi, in robes of a dark blue nearly black. Long violet hair was braided simply, but the words filtered through on Master Grayza's words. You didn't have to be a Jedi to hear the grief there, the sorrow... perhaps there was some regret there too. But she stood somberly, hands folded together.

Whoever this woman was, she must have been rather extraordinary in some way. And in a small way, Indyana was envious of that. That even so many months later, she was grieved for... she didn't know these people. But she knew their sacrifice, and she was here to pay her respect in the truest way possible.

In silence.


@Mr. Teatime @Nefieslab
 

Nykoria Tallis

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Nykoria Tallis very much preferred training in the jungle surrounding the Jedi Temple, as opposed to the Temple's training grounds. For someone who hailed from Coruscant, enjoyed modern conveniences, and thrived on a company of sentients, that was an unlikely preference. After all, there was nothing to find in the wilderness, apart from beautiful vistas and local wildlife. But the Zeltron had her reasons. Plenty of reasons, in fact.

One of those reasons was fear of loss. Or rather, getting too attached to someone and losing them afterwards. For Kori, bonding with people was easy. Which made it even harder when those people eventually turned on her... or risked their lives every day. She had been through both scenarios already.

It's safer not to get invested into anything that might end up short-term, right? The belief of keeping her distance from other Jedi and not getting too attached was only reinforced by the aftermath of the events at Coruscant Prison. Back then, Kori didn't have it in her to attend the memorial service. Sure, she respected the sacrifices of those two Knights, as well as countless Jedi and non-Jedi who died doing what's right. But Zeltrons were sensitive to the emotions of others... including grief.

Honoring the memory of Nashyr Ris and Saul Devan alongside those who knew them and cared about them would've been the same as having known those Jedi. Those were the emotions that Kori was trying to avoid. Which made it all the more unexpected when the Zeltron stumbled upon such emotions far away from the Temple, during her jogging session.

Of course, Kori immediately slowed down, so as not to disturb the people gathering in the distance up ahead. With a slow, deep breath, she all but disappeared in the Force, walking between the trees towards the impromptu "shrine"; careful to keep her presence a secret. There was someone familiar among those people... Well, more familiar than most.

Maxims Tionson. Max. The Jedi who had been with Nykoria on more missions than one, and who had saved her life from slavers. Even from the distance, the Zeltron could sensed his pain. Yet this time, she chose to remain nearby and not to shy away from the problem.

...

There's really no running away from this, huh? Define "this". Losing the people you care about. The pain. The guilt. You knew the answer before you asked the question, Kori. What do you mean? Just think about it. Even Max is no complete stranger to you now. Even if he was a stranger, would your perception of his grief now be any less? A Jedi is never alone. You're bound to forge bonds with people during missions. You're bound to meet the people who suffer and need your help.

So, there is a path away from it after all. It just means I'd have to avoid people entirely. I guess that could work. But can you live like that though? There's a Zeltron I know who was totally crushed when her peers chose to ostracize her for her unnatural abilities. Do you think she would have preferred not having friends at all? Giving up her hopes and dreams prematurely, just to avoid some bruises she managed to overcome? Can you say the same about you now? Huh. I see what you're driving at, Master.

...

Kori remained at a distance, leaning her shoulder against a tree and observing the other Jedi. She wouldn't interfere; it seemed like a rather personal meeting. Besides, there wasn't much Kori could do to help them. Just like she hadn't been able to help Nashyr and Saul, because she had been on Ajan Kloss, wallowing in fear and self-pity after a mission gone wrong.

But I can help the others. Spare them the grief Max is feeling now. Do my best to prevent more lives being lost. Like those two Knights tried and did. After all, isn't it what being a Jedi is about?
 

Hannibal Grayza

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For a moment, for a fraction of a second, Hannibal almost froze. Not so much physically, though he did stiffen up a little. It was more like he'd been about to shut out his emotions and those of the others who were apparently also around. He'd meant to be here, alone, to deal with what he was feeling. He always dealt with it alone. Not handling one's thoughts and emotions was incredibly unhealthy after all, he just preferred to do it far, far away from everyone else. Especially Jedi. Especially the people close to him. In truth, he just didn't like to be seen shaken.

His hands still shook sometimes after a fight, even after what he'd gone through with Sol Puara and the Arcanist. Once he let his focus drop away everything always came flooding back in after he was safe in his ship or something. He really didn't like fighting, but he was good at it and people were counting on him. People would die if he didn't, so he fought so others didn't have to. For him, that's what it meant to be a Jedi. To be a bulwark and support for others, to take on their burdens and their suffering as much as one can. But now he was getting lost in thought.

Hannibal unstiffened after a moment and sat back up, ran a sleeve across his face, and a small smile formed over his face.


"Hey Max, Indy. Nice day for a walk, huh?" he commented with a passable tone of casual optimism. He didn't know why he bothered aside from habit. He was fairly certain they'd see right through him. Especially considering they were standing right there and had problem heard him and everything.

He just didn't know what else to do in this situation.


@Nefieslab @Killa Ree @Catbert
 

Maxims Tionson

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Max could feel and see it when Hannibal put his walls back up but he let him. Partially because he knew that people dealt with things in different ways but mostly because it was none of his business. He would call Hannibal a friend and he hoped he would call him likewise but it wasn't the business of a friend to question the mental stability of their friends. No, in Max's experience it was the job of the friend to be there as and when that same person needed you there to shore up the defenses and to help them get better at it.

No one had the right to demand you deal with your pain in a certain way (no matter what @GABA might say). Friends were just there to help you when you needed it.

He looked away from the water with a grin firmly in place.

"Nah, kind of sucks."
he replied back cheerfully, "Not a big fan of hot weather - give me a posting to Hoth any day of the week."

Wandering over to Hannibal from the water's edge, he waved in greeting to Indy and to Kori both. They were here for their own reasons he was sure and it wasn't his place to judge. As he neared Hannibal he reached into his robes and pulled out a slim metal case. Opening it, he took out a pair of expensive cigaras. Lighting one for himself, he offered the other to Hannibal.

"Can I offer you some nicotine in this trying time?"
he tried to joke before shrugging a little bit, "Always thought bad jokes were a good defense against the bad stuff. A happy memory to combat a shitty one - that kind of thing. Sometimes though? Sometimes I just have to remember why I didn't throw away every pack when I quit smoking."


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