RPlog:Reunion

Gold Beaches - Coronet City

The crash of the surf here is not so loud as the engines of the Port, but they carry the same strength and promise of power, more magestic than any artificial energy. The deep blue of the water is complimented royally by bright gold sand beaches, stretching north-south of the City. It is a fine sand, glittering underfoot, and residents of the city as well as visitors relax in its warmth. The occasional CorSec officer patrols here, for the safety of the public.

The Players:

Luke: Shrouded in ebon clothing as black as night, this thin young humans sky blue eyes sparkle from beneath his hooded cowl. Shaggy locks of disheveled sun-bleached hair poke out above, defying even the blackness of his clothing. His right hand also is clad in a black tight fitting glove occasionally clenching in its prison, as if recalling some ancient memory. Despite the moody attire, his face is jovial, kind and expressive, if not now showing the early lines of coming age and a well worn tan. Faint laughlines at the corners of his eyes, a barely detectable scar in the crease from his nose to his mouth create character to his face. Yet something deep lingers behind his visage, a thoughtful brooding not found in most men his age. The cloak he wears typically has the hood up to conceal his features. After all, in a dangerous galaxy, incognito is a good bet. It is open in the front showing a dark tunic underneath, going nearly to his knee high and jet black military style boots. The only other object visible as his robes move is a silver metallic object twelve inches in length and clipped to his belt.

Jessalyn: The composure of this young human woman is probably the most striking thing about her. Though otherwise unassuming, her expression is one of surprising coherence and calm, belied only by the slightly mischievous gleam in her leaf green eyes. Shining dark red hair falls in unruly silken waves down to the middle of her back, framing her wide cheekbones and smooth, pale skin not as fragile as most redheads'. She is relatively tall for a human woman, with long-boned limbs and a natural grace amplified by her skills.

Jessa is dressed in a drab green sleeveless shirt, and a pair of kakhi pants with plenty of pockets. Around her waist is a black leather utility belt. Her hair is held back from her face and clipped behind her head, though stray curling locks continue to fall into her eyes. The fit of her trousers and the sturdy brown suede boots on her legs emphasize her narrow waist and the long-legged rhythm of her strides.

Orson: Too short, not handsome, and a little too old. What's lacking in looks has to be made up for with something strong on the inside: determination and persistence, a certain grit evident in the look sent by his slate gray eyes. Lines around this human male's mouth and eyes tell of hard days and decisions in his past, each one a new crease in an otherwise young man's face. He is smaller framed, though quite stout with a barrel chest and strong shoulders. Still, he's not overly muscled, simply in good physical shape. Dark hair is kept in a simple style but is more often than not in a disheveled state. A few lonely gray hairs touch his temples. He might be around forty standard years old. He has a larger nose, on a round-shaped, bold face that is quick with a grin but usually caught up in a shade of thoughtful.

He is wearing a tight-fitting suit of duraprene, the dark rubbery material snug on his broad shoulders but covering him from neck to wrist and down to his ankles without an obvious seam. A dark green band of color runs vertically up his short body. Other than the uniform wetsuit, he is unclothed, save a thick band of dark metal on one wrist. The man appears to be in decent shape, though is a certainly past the boyish years and firmly in his middle years.

Luke sends through the Force... Jessalyn... is.. is that you?

The primary emotional reaction in Jessalyn's mind is shocked disbelief, and a rush of sudden hope. "Luke?" she whispers back, tentatively, almost afraid to believe it's true.

"I had hoped it was you. I felt your disturbance this morning... You seem.. close?" The Jedi's mind projects an image of the warship, the Chancellor, hovering in orbit high above Corellia. "Are you.." a brief flood of worry and anguish taps out before Luke can control his emotions, "Are you well?"

In response, Jessalyn offers an image of her own location, the sun-soaked sands stretching along Coronet's shoreline, that crunch beneath her feet as she walks, the salty sea wind that rustles her hair and fills her lungs. She takes a deep breath, stretching her feelings out to Luke. "I'm fine, all things considered. Luke, where -- where have you been? I -miss- you." It's a little more difficult for her to control her feelings than it is for the Jedi Master, but she does her best to keep them from flooding along the link they've established through the Force.

Luke sends through the Force... In response to the question, the Jedi's feelings turn darker. Not his own thoughts, necessarily, but a dim reflection of some greater evil that resonates with his own soul. "I was with Valak.. It is a long story." A brief pause, and the darkness is washed away through an effort of purification. "I might ask the same of you? You are on Coronet? I will come."

Accepting this news solemnly, Jessa surrounds Luke's thoughts with comfort, fighting back her fearful reaction to the idea of him in the Emperor's hands. "I'll be here. Be careful, Luke. Morganna Tazecks was here the last time, and I'm worried about being tracked." But then a surge of joy bursts forth. "I'm so glad you're all right."

_____________

Corellia's golden sun is high and bright in the afternoon sky, making the sandy beaches hot to the touch, reflecting waves of light and heat into the air. There are the requisite tourists, but not so many since this is not a holiday, and most of Coronet's citizens are at their daily activities. But there are a few diehard surfers cruising on their anti-grav boards over the soaring blue waves, riding the white crests that ultimately plunge into white foam at the place where sea meets land.

On a small rise not far from the water's edge, Jessalyn sits upon a small blanket, her back straight with anticipation, her legs folded. Her pale complexion is taking as much of a beating here as it did back on Myrkr, the sun brightening her cheeks till they are scarlet, and freckles have begun to appear across her exposed shoulders. As the strong sea breeze lifts her waves of hair behind her, she gazes out toward the sea, watching someone balancing on of those dangerous looking surfboards, every now and then casting a look back toward the city. Her heart is pounding.

Luke is probably the only person within a hundred miles to be wearing a black outfit complete with his Jedi cloak, yet he would not be without it even here. He crests a large bluff approaching the shoreline, blue eyes scanning the horizon. The bright sunlight makes him squint but otherwise he seems unaffected by the heat even as his clothing soaks the entire blast of the suns rays. Sensing, more than seeing, his eyes light upon a small camp of familiar faces; or at least, at this distance, familiar shapes, hair colour, and reverberance through the force. He has found them. And so, with a smile on his face, he descends the leeward side of the bluff.

The Force announces Luke's arrival before she is able to see him, but his usual Jedi black attire makes him easy enough to distinguish against the golden sand dunes. Jessalyn nearly staggers in the soft soil when she gets to her feet, squinting and shielding her eyes with one hand. Then her bare feet carry her at would be a run if the sand didn't prevent her from moving as fast as she would like. She scolds herself for the tears that begin to sting her eyes, choosing instead to believe it is just the salty wind. "Luke!" she calls out as soon as she's within earshot, waving her hand in his direction.

As soon as Jessalyn begins her charge, the Jedi stops and a slow smile spreads across his face. His feet twitch with anticipation to rush forward, too, however he maintains his composure. "Jessalyn," he returns, without having to shout, for the distance closes in fast. He opens his arms up to receive her charge into an embrace.

It's really no use. She doesn't know why she even bothers to try not to cry. By the time Jessalyn reaches Luke and throws her arms around his neck, her whole body is shaking. Embarrassed, she buries her face against his chest and starts to ramble. "I was looking for you -- that's when they found me. They told me they knew where you were. But instead...." She closes her eyes tightly, not wanting to remember being trapped inside the living death of the Sith puzzle; she had lived another lifetime there.

"I was beginning to think I was never going to see you again," she says, smiling up at him with glittering green eyes as she pulls back, trying to compose herself. "Are -you- all right?"

"I'm fine," Luke allows, slowly and perhaps a tad reluctantly letting Jessalyn go out of the embrace. "Much better, now, to see you safe. I am sorry for what you went through for me. Your sacrifice will not go unnoticed." Sorry? His face belies a more crestfallen emotion, brows furrowed with both sorrow, anxiety and anger. "It is good to see you safe once again."

It has been almost two years since Jessalyn had disappeared from the galaxy, but even longer than that since she'd seen Luke. She gives him a long, assessing look, realizing that there is so much that separates then from now, years of experience that she knows nothing about. She squeezes his arms, only now allowing relief to flood through her. No matter what each of them has been through, they have both quite miraculously survived. "I didn't do anything to be proud of," she says with self-mocking humor, "except get myself into trouble."

Remembering her companion, Jessalyn looks out over the water, where a tiny, distant figure is riding the waves. "I have so much to tell you about. And I want to hear everything that's happened to you since I've been gone." It occurs to her that maybe that's not entirely true, but it's too late to take back now. She gives him a smile and tugs on his sleeve, leading him back to the dune where the blanket is spread out.

Not having a lot of choice in the matter, Luke follows. "I'm afraid there is not much to tell. Some of Valak's apprentices have had a falling out. His apprentice wants me to help him bring down Valak, and Valak wants me to help him eliminate his apprentice. Both of which are amiable goals, however, I am loath to make one position's stronger." He flashes a tight grin, "I almost prefer to keep them guessing at one another, saves us work; if only the rest of the galaxy's safety were not put at risk by their continuing private war."

Jessalyn pauses beside the small dune where she was sitting before, then picks up the canteen she had left there, untwisting the cap as she listens to Luke. She frowns, her expression going grave. "And what about the Death Star?" she murmurs. "Ever since I found out that he's built another one, I knew we had to stop it." Her shoulders rise and fall in a frustrated sigh. "I'm afraid that I may have wrecked your plans already, since the Empire attacked Karrde because of me." Taking a sip of the cool water, just to ease the dryness in her throat, she offers it to the other Jedi, adding about as casually as she can, "I'm here with Simon Sezirok."

Luke waves the botle away in a dismissive jesture, focusing on the words being spoken. "Simon Sezirok. A troubled youth, that one is. A dangerous future I sense in him." A brief cloudiness appears in his eyes, as though gazing at something distance. "And yet, I forsee greatness. Or.. power." He shakes his head, coming to himself again. "A good friend once told me that the Future is always in motion," he finishes with a sigh. "I would like to talk with him again, if he is willing. As for the Death Star," he glances skyward, trying to penetrate the unending depths of space with his gaze. "It is gone. Missing. We were able to once again obtain a copy of the plans, and I think they fear our attack. The Jedi must bend our will towards finding it, while the tactitians in the Republic find a weakness we can exploit."

"I'm... hoping that Simon will realize it's his destiny to become a Jedi," Jessa says into the following silence, taking another quick sip of water and glancing almost nervously out toward the ocean once more. "It was Simon and the others who saved me from Valak." So she feels obligated, is that her insinuation? If it is, she won't admit it even to herself. The matter of Orson and his Jedi training also goes unspoken for now. She's no longer the highest-ranking Jedi in the group anymore.

"And so we will," she says, blowing out a breath and returning her green gaze to his, her usual bright smile spreading over her face, tipping her head as if giving him another scrutinous look. "But what about -you-, Luke? Are you...?" Happy? Content? Resigned? She doesn't know what to ask so she opts to let him fill in the question as he will.

"I am well." He pauses to look at his old friend and then continues, "I have seen many friends, and my family, recently. It has renewed my faith in that what we are doing is just, and has purpose. For a while I was not sure if continuing the Jedi Order was what the Republic needed." He smiles, looking perfectly framed on his wizened face. "Seeing you, that Faith has been restored. Without the Jedi Order, your fire would have never been introduced so brightly to the Galaxy. And I am sure there are others that are just as bright, will be just as important. Perhaps you are right and this Simon will be one of them."

Hearing that even the Jedi Master can have his doubts about their purpose, Jessalyn blinks, trying not to feel shaken. She sits down heavily on the blanket, drawing her knees up to her chest and staring out fiercely over the water. The Force taunts her, the vision she had yesterday, and the nagging sensation that she is deluding herself as far as Simon is concerned, letting other emotions cloud her judgment. Maybe this was why Luke had always seemed so isolated, she realizes. Self-preservation.

Forcing a smile onto her face, she speaks up to him as she begins to roll up the loose legs of her trousers. "There's someone that I'm more certain about," she says. "He's here with us, too, and the Force is with him so strongly. And he has such a strong and good heart. He would make a wonderful Jedi..." Without admitting it aloud, she allows her thoughts to reveal the truth... that she has already shown this person something of the Force. "His name is Orson Tighe."

Blue-gray water arches its back and curls, round sheets flexing before their own weight breaks them apart as they crash toward Coronet City. Orson Tighe rides without much inertial compensation, using his repulsorwave board for only a bit of speed boost when he needs it, the pressure pads beneath his feet controlling his velocity and angle. The man is older, broad about the shoulders but fit, moving with a grace which would suggest there is something more sprite about him than the years on his face would suggest. He breaks off of a particular swell in a crouch, fingers trailing through the sizzling foam, banking hard. With a wave at the pair -- it didn't particularly matter if they had seen him -- he angles down the shore, far away from the two Jedi. He had recognized Skywalker, of course. It was Jessalyn's moment, and the new student is content to let her have it with him alone. How long had she waited?

Luke raises his eyebrows a bit at the statement regarding his strength. None can blame him, surely, for being apprehensive of late. "Orson?" He notices a fellow waving on the ocean, but does not piece together who he is right away. "Indeed. Bring him before me, and I will do my best to judge his worthiness. Unless I miss my guess, you have already taken him as an apprentice?" His blue eyes smolder with an intensity in awaiting the answer. Too well the words ring in his ears 'I thought I could train him as well as Master Yoda. I was wrong'...

Already fearing his reaction, Jessalyn bends her head as she acknowledges the truth. "He asked me, Luke, and at the time... I didn't even know if I'd see you again. He needed to be shown that the Force is his ally." Despite her apprehension, she lifts her chin stubbornly, not afraid to meet his intense blue gaze. "I wouldn't second-guess your wisdom if you decide otherwise, of course." She wants to be trusted, but she is also an obedient Knight.

The wind kicks up suddenly, stinging her eyes with sand and whipping back her hair like a banner. She tries to pull it back into some semblance of order as she catches sight of Orson moving down the beach, and bites her lip.

Luke inhales deeply as the breath of wind hits his face. Ah, the continue test of being a Jedi. Pushing aside his own fear of failure, he addresses his one-time Apprentice. "You have enough skill to pass on. You may continue to train him in non-combative arts, so long as you leave the latter for me. I will not make weapons until I am sure of their focus and dedication to the Order." What's done is done, the Jedi can't help but sigh knowing too well the implications of what he has allowed; yet to change it may do more harm than good. He forces a smile as he says, "You have done well to find another to bring to our fold."

Trying not to think about the lightsaber which Orson has already begun designing, Jessalyn merely bobs her head in agreement. "Yes, Master Luke," she says with a soft sigh. "Thank you for having faith in me. I won't fail you." She stands up and walks the few meters to the water's edge, letting the waves lap at her toes, and feeling them sink into the sand deeper as the water surrounds them, rising up to her ankles before being swept back out to sea once more. She stuffs her hands into her trouser pockets, her back to the black-clad Jedi Master. "I don't know how willing Simon will be to meet with you," she confesses. "But I'll talk to him. Perhaps I can persuade him to hear you out."

"If you care for him, you should. I will not tolerate any threats to the Order, you know that. Enough of our friends have died at the hands of the Sith. I can not allow them to continually unseat our efforts," Luke comments, clearly at odds with himself as he tries to sound stern, yet still unsure of his footing in rough water. "Will you join me for dinner later? I fear I must return to the Chancellor, but I had to see you.. to make sure you were safe. Perhaps we can speak for a while onboard the ship? And you can introduce me to this Orson, if he's willing. Simon, too, if you can convince him I have his best interests in mind."

Jessalyn keeps her back turned for a while longer, composing herself, perhaps, then turns, crossing the sand that now clings to her damp feet until she's facing the Jedi Master again. "I'll meet you on the Chancellor later," she agrees, squinting against the bright sun that forms a golden corona around his fair hair. "We have a lot to talk about. I will try to get the others to come with me." She has no idea how successful she will be at this, however. Yet, she still allows a smile to break through her carefully schooled features, touching his hand briefly and tentatively. "I'm glad you came."

Luke takes the hand and squeezes it gently. "I am sorry, I should not have spoken about grevious matters at our meeting. I am very proud of you. You have done very well, and progressed far in your training. I am happy to have you back in my life."

For a little while Jessalyn just enjoys the moment, clinging to Luke's fingers. A million things come to mind to say, but she lets them all drift away with the wind. There will be hours and days to discover what the Force has in store for all of them, and she can be patient. Even the dark vision that had so caught her off guard the day before is all but forgotten. "I'm glad, too. You don't know how you've been missed," she says in a soft voice.

Luke puts up the cowl to his cloak, once again ignoring the oppresive heat. "I will see you shipside," he says with a gentle smile. "Enjoy your stay at the beach, for now. The time we have to relax will very quickly wane, I am afraid."

With that, the Jedi walks away down the beach.