Murder on Level 1313: Serenity, not Dispassion
Posted on Mon Jul 6th, 2020 @ 3:47pm by Sotah & Thurius
Edited on on Wed Jun 8th, 2022 @ 2:02pm
2,777 words; about a 14 minute read
Chapter:
Additional Stories
Location: Gardens, Reborn Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Timeline: One month after "Splitting the Pack" and "A Life Cut Short", 1,199 ABY
This post takes place in 1,199 ABY, only four years after the Second Outer Rim Conflict, and concludes the tale of Jedi Master Thurius and his fallen padawan Mykles, having come face-to-face with the gangs of the Coruscant underworld.
The waning amber light of another dying Couscanti day filtered through the wispy strands of exotic flora that waved gently in the Reborn Temple Gardens. In the sky above, the planet’s rings were at their most visible against a slowly darkening sky like an open wound in the heavens and a reminder of a long-destroyed moon.
Gazing upwards at the sky, Master Thurius felt as alien to himself as the Yuuzhan Vong, the beings that had forcibly created those rings, had once been to this galaxy. Young disciples of the Force continued to move around him, travelling back to their quarters through the gardens from their daily duties or stopping to meditate in the quiet tranquillity the gardens brought them. The Cerean was aware of their presence and felt their gazes upon him a number of times, but he gave them no attention. He only had one young Jedi on his mind: Mykles.
The padawan he had failed. The life he had wasted.
Around a standard month had passed since Mykles death; where Loren had found the young Cathar's body bloodied, abused and hung down from an overpass on level 1313 as a message from the Dark Star gang that they did not fear those on the upper levels. Not even the Jedi.
Despite an investigation and several arrests, it seemed that Dark Star was right in its statement: with the death of Tank, the raging gang war simmered down and the Wild Pack was all but eliminated. Dark Star once again controlled 1313 and the upper levels no longer were troubled by their overflowing conflict, which meant that interest in policing the level quickly disappeared again, as did the murder investigation. Thurius had protested, but his words had fallen on deaf ears, even within the Order.
Across the gardens was a little courtyard were he and Mykles had spent many hours sparring and practicing the subtle complexities of wielding a blade and, later on, a lightsaber. He had thought he was passing on a strength that would protect the young man from harm and bolster him against the temptations of anger and fear. Yet, in his last moments on this plane of existence, Mykles had succumbed to both in an effort to uphold the very virtues Thurius had unknowingly been teaching him.
Pride. Arrogance. Envy.
He had felt all these in Mykles and had dismissed these as only bumps on the road to Jedi mastery; small flaws to be ironed out with time. In many ways, the passion they gave him had spurred on his training. Had Thurius been inadvertently been encouraging these flaws: making them grow, rather than shrink?
What of the code: ‘Serenity shall quell passion.’ How could he have forgotten to teach serenity? Thurius wondered how truly serene he was. Dispassion was not serenity and he was a fool to think that it was.
The air became colder and he drew his robe tighter as a breeze attempted to steal the heat from his body and carry it away. The chill drew his gaze down from the sky and to the face of former Grand Master Junun Waay, cast in shimmering metal as a great statue in the garden. Thurius turned away, feeling he had not lived up to the founding teachings of the Order. He had felt the urge to walk away many times in the last month and, on this chilly evening, he might just follow through.
"What good is the warmth of day, without the chill of night to give it sweetness?" The voice, gently accented by the familiar lisping intonations of Thurius' oldest friend, came from beside him, its owner seemingly appearing from the ancient stone of the temple itself.
Sotah was not facing the same way as Thurius. Instead, the Selkath Jedi had his face turned up the visage of Junun Waay, as the Cerean had just moments before. A mottled blue hand stroked one of the fleshy tendrils that hung from either side of his elongated aquatic face pensively, his presence and demeanour its typically-calm and collected manner. Even as a younger man and Jedi, Sotah had never been given much to melancholy or alarm, but there was still a sadness hidden beneath his outer veneer.
Thurius turned and looked at the familiar Selkath, meeting his eyes for a moment before turning them away again, "Perhaps, Sotah. But one could easily say just the reverse: 'How much bitter the night feels after the heat of the day.' Or, to use a different metaphor: 'The greater the climb, the further the fall.' Whichever one you choose, there is always another way to look at it."
He scolded himself inwardly for being so hard on the man who had sought to deliver nothing but comfort to him in this difficult time, but it seemed that all he could deliver was bitter words because that was what he felt inside.
Sotah did not look upset by Thurius' retort. Instead, a small Selkath smile was offered to his old friend, and he placed a reassuring hand on the Cerean's thickset robed shoulder. "You speak as though you bear responsibility for the conduct of life, as if you might be the one that weaves the web of fate, when we are merely but dancing along the threads. The mortal dance is fleeting, but the song of the Force is infinite, and you brought much joy into the life of Mykles, offering him purpose and friendship. He was never alone, and within the Force, he will never be alone."
The blue-robed Jedi looked up from Thurius to a nearby tree, where its flowers were in the earliest stages of blossoming a pink plume of foliage. "To consider that his life was your responsibility to craft and twist is to dally the dark side, my friend - to court the Void." Sotah's shimmering eyes turned back to Thurius. "Do you truly think yourself the playwright of this tragedy?"
Thurius could feel the gaze from his old friend, seeking to melt the icy self-loathing that he had summoned about his heart, "You are right, of course. It is arrogant of me to assume I am the only architect in Mykles fate but I must accept my part in it nonetheless."
He took in a deep breath and looked up at the erupting blossom, carefully cultivated by the delicate design of the Agricultural Corps who had turned their connection with the universe to the task of preserving and cultivating life. During the reformation of the Jedi as the Reborn Order, the Service Corps were also brought back into existence as a way of keeping all Force Sensitives close to the Order, even when they failed to reach full Knighthood. Had Thurius not taken Mykles on as a padawan, he may have ended up serving in the Corps, perhaps in the Exploration Corps. The brief thought of the young Cathar bravely exploring the galaxy to hunt out lost secrets and mysteries was amusing, but tinged with sadness at how that path had been closed long ago. Would he have lived a better life? Would he still have a life?
"What can I do to make it right, my friend?" Thurius let out the air he had held in his lungs in a long sigh, "Do I change myself? Do I fight against the galaxy that brought us to this? Or am I as powerless as I feel?"
"Mykles' soul is a noble one, Thurius. Reckless, perhaps, but dedicated to integrity, truth and justice, a true paragon of many of the great Jedi virtues," Sotah said, kind expression unchanging. "I do not think either of you truly quite appreciated how similar you both were to one another; you've both always been so keen to uproot the injustices of this existence - often at the end of a shimmering blue lightsaber. Perhaps that has always been the way for both of you to fight against this perceived powerlessness... perhaps that was why you were drawn to him as your apprentice in the first place. I think, truly, he has perhaps taught you more about yourself than you could have for him."
His three-fingered hand still resting on Thurius' shoulder, Sotah now turned to guide them away from the blossoming trees, deeper into the courtyard. Even in this late evening, many Jedi in various states of training and advancement were busying themselves all around them, between lightsaber drills, readings, conversations and meditation. It was peaceful, even if populated.
"Had the roles been reversed, your spirit would have taken no pleasure in observing Mykles walking the gardens morosely and pondering his failures as a Jedi and your student. You would want him to embrace the experience, to commune with it, and to proceed into the realms of the unknown armed with what he had learned and could provide to others." They walked slowly a little further along, reaching a more expansive area of the temple grounds. "There is nothing to make right, dear Thurius. But there are always others that could benefit from your experience and your insight: one of the most integral steps to healing is using what has happened to you to help others." His dark eyes washed over a nearby area, a little smile playing over his broad Selkath face. "Perhaps... there is healing to be found in the least expected of places."
Thurius could feel the slight inflection is his friend's voice and could read a sly satisfaction in the Selkath that reminded him of many a discussion in the years past. It was a confusing comfort and he went to shoot him a look when his gaze was caught by the object of Sotah's own attention: a short way ahead, within a little circle of carefully carved stones, was an Ithorian youngling, legs crossed and deep in a meditative trance. There was a powerful aura from the young one that was almost visible but his eyes were closed and his expression was passive.
As they watched, the young man rose slowly but surely into the air, carrying with him several stone fragments of varying sizes, which danced around him with a subtle grace like moons in orbit. There were no other younglings around and no teacher present to instruct, just the clear, but powerful will of the young Force user as he channelled the essence of the universe through the gift of his innate abilities.
At the height of his levitation, the boy unwrapped his arms from his folded position and brought them out to his sides, palms upwards and long fingers reaching out. As he did so, more stones and pebbles were pulled upwards into his orbit and he opened his dark, marble-like eyes to stare forwards; his trace unbroken. Thurius could feel a slight tug on the air itself being drawn in to wrap around the boy.
This display continued for a while and the two masters watched silently, keeping their own presences as diminished as they could manage until Thurius felt the need to speak quietly, "Such a wonderful synchrony of abilities for such a young one," his voice was genuine and passionate, "Why does it still surprise me to this day to see such things?"
"Because you continue to wage war with reality - yours and the galaxy's," his friend replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice as they watched the Ithorian for a few moments longer, alone but brilliant as he continued his self-driven lesson of discovery. "Until you learn to make peace with the nature of the universe and your part in it, you will never stop being disappointed or surprised. But," the Selkath paused, smiling a little whimsically, "it is nice to be surprised, on occasion, and to take a moment to enjoy the wondrous splendour of our universe. Perhaps, it is also nice... to see that through another's eyes, too."
Sotah patted Thurius on the shoulder a couple of times lightly, allowed himself a few more moments of watching the youngling, and then quietly stepped away without so much as another word, leaving the Cerean Jedi to consider his thoughts and situation.
At the height of his levitation, the boy unwrapped his arms from his folded position and brought them out to his sides, palms upwards and long fingers reaching out. As he did so, more stones and pebbles were pulled upwards into his orbit and he opened his dark, marble-like eyes to stare forwards; his trace unbroken. Thurius could feel a slight tug on the air itself being drawn in to wrap around the boy.
This display continued for a while and the two masters watched silently, keeping their own presences as diminished as they could manage until Thurius felt the need to speak quietly, "Such a wonderful synchrony of abilities for such a young one," his voice was genuine and passionate, "Why does it still surprise me to this day to see such things?"
"Because you continue to wage war with reality - yours and the galaxy's," his friend replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice as they watched the Ithorian for a few moments longer, alone but brilliant as he continued his self-driven lesson of discovery. "Until you learn to make peace with the nature of the universe and your part in it, you will never stop being disappointed or surprised. But," the Selkath paused, smiling a little whimsically, "it is nice to be surprised, on occasion, and to take a moment to enjoy the wondrous splendour of our universe. Perhaps, it is also nice... to see that through another's eyes, too."
Sotah patted Thurius on the shoulder a couple of times lightly, allowed himself a few more moments of watching the youngling, and then quietly stepped away without so much as another word, leaving the Cerean Jedi to consider his thoughts and situation.
Eyes unwavering on the young man, Thurius nodded an innate agreement to his friend and sensed him slip back towards the main temple, while the Cerean Jedi took a few slow steps towards the Ithorian, who had begun to float back down to the ground as his meditation came to a conclusion. He was certain that the Ithorian had sensed his approach, but he did not speak until every levitated stone carefully returned to the earth.
“I have not seen a display like that in a long time, my young friend,” he spoke with a more peaceful aura than he had since the incident on 1313, “It reminds me of how I first perceived the Force and how I first saw the Jedi. What is your name?”
The Ithorian turned his eyes upwards towards his senior and seemed to take a moment to assess or acclimatise before he answered in an echoey melodic Basic, “I am Bomoor Thort, Master Thurius. Thank you for your kind words. I often come out here of an evening to meditate just for myself. I hope I don’t disturb anyone.”
Smiling, Thurius shook his head, “If anyone were to be disturbed by such a display, then they do not deserve to be here. You, Bomoor, deserve this time and this place. It is why the Order is here and why I am here.”
The Jedi Master beckoned the young disciple up and the boy obeyed, coming up to the height of most fully grown humanoids, despite his youth. Thurius gestured over to the rock garden.
“If you are finished for this evening, perhaps you would care to take a walk with me before you turn in. I would be interested to hear where you are with your training.”
The pair moved off, deeper into the gardens, where the warm lanterns were beginning to illuminate the darkening paths. Suddenly and without knowing it, Thurius was looking ahead once again. He had not forgotten the continued rot hundreds of levels beneath his feet, which had taken Mykles from him. But the final words of his padawan still echoed from that place, urging him onwards:
I'm sorry, Master. Live on.
The Cerean knew now that he would live his life in an imperfect world and for that, Mykles could pity him. But, if he could see the good that existed within the bad and nurture it, then he had a reason to stay. At least until the rot took him as well. He would indeed live on.
END
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