revivalproject | Padawan Lost

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Padawan Lost

WHO: Cal Kestis, BD-1 and you! OTA
WHERE: Temba and beyond..?
WHAT: Lost padawan trying to get his bearings by keeping busy.
WHEN: Start of Feb. Event
WARNINGS: Jedi: Fallen Order spoilers? (If you'd rather I keep it vague, let me know in comment)
OTHER: I dunno if anything will come up, but just an obligatory head's up, please see Cal's permissions, particularly regarding his psychometry skill.

"The obstacles in your path define the path. What stands in the way becomes the way."

His master's words echoed in his mind, but Cal wouldn't let his thoughts delve any deeper than that, shaking his head as though to physically disperse them. Ever since he'd woken up in this strange, empty place, he'd felt just as lost as he had five years ago, back when things just suddenly changed.

And now he was back at square one again, without a lightsaber, without a direction. Well maybe not necessarily lacking in direction. He was still puzzling over the information overload. Where did one even begin with something like that? How did you find a path when you weren't even sure exactly what the obstacle was?

The electronic hoot in his ear had the padawan turn his head to glance at the little droid perched behind him, his head peering over his shoulder. Even Cal had to smile at that. At least he wasn't alone this time. Thank the Force for small favors.

"...so what do you think, BeeDee?" he asked as they wandered. For now it seemed prudent to follow what passed for streets, and every now and then the little droid would scan things here and there to compile into a map. BD-1 offered beeps of concern, and Cal really couldn't fault him. "Yeah... Not sure I like this either. Something doesn't feel right."

Flickers of movement, visions? Echoes? The would-be Jedi wasn't quite sure what he was seeing, or what he thought he'd seen. BD-1 didn't seem to register anything unusual at all, although in the distance, something however did draw the exploration droid's attention. Were those...ships entering the atmosphere?

The two exchanged a look, and without further encouragement, Cal started in the direction of what he assumed was a landing pad.

((OOC: Interactions don't have to happen directly after ships land, I just wanted to establish a set-up for the kid. So if you're about because you'd rather not tackle the storm or whatnot, cool! Cal will be heading out to investigate stormnanigans as well, but I'll wait to get to that bridge before crossing it.))

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"It's good that you're willing to be reasonable."

Jedi so rarely were, after all. At least Jedi from his own time. They were all liars and cheats who weren't able to live up to the peace they preached. If only they could all work together rather than always fight at home, too. The galaxy would be a better place for it. Of course, not all Sith thought the way Altair thought, perfectly happy with the warmongering that was their eternal legacy.

Nothing he needed to burden this Jedi with, he figured, as he seemed perfectly willing and able to keep this peaceful.

RE-1 tilted to look at Altair, chirped at him, and took a few careful hops forward, beeping at BD-1. Droids making friends indeed. This time around, Altair did not tug his droid back.

"Longer than I would have liked, yes. But the Agrii are only concerned with what they need, and care little for the worlds we all come from, and whatever fires we have that need to be put out at home. A day, a week, a month... It doesn't matter, does it? We've all been taken away from the places we belong."

One needed to choose their battles carefully, and Cal really saw no reason to make one of this. He was back in survivor mode and given what he could understand of the situation here, learning more about things seemed the best way to go about it. Even if it was from an unknown Force wielder. He already has his hunches drawn by sense and the words the other had spoken, but the man felt differently from the Inquisitors. Maybe because he wasn't bent on killing Cal right off the back.

His lips quirked in dry amusement at the thought, and he figured he had to be pretty drained if he was able to laugh about his near-death experiences. At the inquisitive tweedle from BD-1, the padawan knelt down to let the little droid hop to the ground. Dancing back and forth on his bird-like legs, BD-1 then started forward, perhaps more boldly than RE-1's approach although he drew up short, beeping back.

Cal looked from the droids to the other man again, not quite frowning, but not all too happy about the implications. But then he was hardly the only one in such a position, not that it made it better.

"And that's it then? We get dumped here and expected to fix things for these people we haven't even met. I mean...maybe if they thought to ask first?"

"That is it. Not only do they expect us to fix their world from them, but they have a poor sense of who and what makes a hero. A Sith is a savior to no one, and yet..."

Altair gestured vaguely. He was no ordinary Sith, that was true. Had worked hard to maintain some sense of light, worked hard to stay a person rather than a living avatar of wrath, and had worked hard to now allow himself to see other people as disposable game pieces that would die as he saw fit, even if his Order encouraged doing just that.

"I suppose they're getting better if they saw fit to tug a Jedi away from his home."

RE-1 was happy to make friends- even with a Jedi's droid, booping and beeping in what Altair assumed was a cheerful tone. Altair couldn't help but smile at that and wish it was so easy for everyone to get along.

Staying quiet a moment, thinking, Altair then spoke up again, "Though we are put at odds by the teachings we follow, I am serious in that we should keep the peace. I mean you no harm, and I'll assume you mean me none as well. Survival in such a precarious situation requires harmony not discord."

Not exactly spoken like a Sith- more like a Jedi, he supposed. But Altair was nothing if not pragmatic.

Cal tensed again, as casually as the word had been dropped. What he'd heard of the Sith were old teachings and stories, although he'd heard the murmurings and knew that the dark side was always a thing within reach. Tapping into it didn't necessarily make you a Sith, so did identifying as a Sith make you necessarily bad?

Thankfully Altair had already been winning some points in his favor. Cal sighed, shrugging loosely as he stood again, watching the droids at play.

"Yeah, well I'm not quite a Jedi. Still a padawan in rank," he admitted. Did it really make a difference any more? Then again, what use was a padawan or a Jedi without a lightsaber?

BD-1 had very little experience with fellow droids that weren't intent on killing his padawan pal, so meeting RE-1 was refreshing. It was a little difficult following what was said, but in the end Binary was still Binary, and a little was better than nothing.

"I have no reason to do you any harm." Cal looked at the man, his earlier tension dissipating. "I've never really met a Sith before. The Inquisitors, they use the dark side, but I'm not sure where they fit on that scale."

"I find that rank has very little to do with anything at all. It has its importance within any Order, Sith, Jedi, or otherwise... But I find that the Force itself doesn't care what title you hold. I have a Jedi at my side, at home. She is no less a Jedi for walking at a Sith's side. I am no less a Sith, for walking at hers."

Of course, perhaps this went into the territory of lecturing. He was starting to wonder if that was a habit.

Still, it had been so long since he had sensed the Force within anyone else, and though he considered those who could not use the Force to be equal with those who could, it had been quite lonely, not sensing the movement of thousands upon thousands engaging in whatever insanity life threw their way. He could sense minds and life and the Force was a constant in every living thing, but... Well, he supposed he hadn't realized just how quiet things had been until now.

"And a rank has very little to do with heroism, as well. I think that has to do with personality more than anything else."

A slight smile then, "I assume you became a Jedi and stay a Jedi because you want to help others?"

Most Jedi did. Of course, many Jedi began buying into their own hype too, in his experience, some making a bad situation worse.

"Can't say I've heard of them, but knowing this place, chances are, we are from different times entirely. Where I am from, a Jedi recognizes a Sith, and a Sith recognizes a Jedi. There are so many of us, after all."

And then, as a jest; "Or perhaps it is because the Sith are entirely more fashionable than the Jedi that we stick out."

Never mind that he was wearing white himself, very atypical for a Sith.

"Less importance and even less a difference when the Order is gone," Cal said quietly. He lifted his head though, surprised to hear that a Jedi and a Sith could be comrades. Or was he still just somewhat in shock that he was actually speaking to a Sith? No, not shock, not exactly. Everything in general just felt so surreal.

"I don't know that I'd call myself a hero," he said, smiling wryly. "But I guess the helping others is still valid." He couldn't turn his back when he saw what the Empire was doing to the Wookies of Kashyyyk, just like he couldn't turn his back on the possibility of restoring the Order and fighting for those who couldn't or wouldn't think to stand against the Empire on their own.

It took him a moment to digest what the Sith was saying next. His brow furrowed, and at first he thought he was mishearing, but as the man continued... It explained much, and yet it was difficult to believe.

"...what, brown robes aren't fashionable?" Not that he wore anything very Jedi-esque at the moment, the worn suit and poncho of a scrapper, still somehow more colorful if dirtier than his robes had ever been. His own jest was half-hearted, but Cal felt like any bit of humor helped him right now.

"It must be a really different time... So far as we were aware, there weren't any Sith- and the Jedi were peacekeepers for the Republic. ...except somehow that ended up with us serving as generals and such to battle against the Separatists." He shook his head, folding his arms.

"I suppose Jedi aren't supposed to."

He supposed he understood that. Revan had thought himself a hero, bought into his own hype, that he was important, special, chosen. That he could do what no other living being, Jedi or Sith, could ever do. All Revan had done in the end was make it so much worse for those who were left to mop up his mess.

He wouldn't consider himself a hero, either. Arrogance was common in Sith, but his own tendency to be arrogant, act superior, only happened when people acted high and mighty, acted as though they were better than him for whatever reason.

"Even I find the desire to help others to be a honorable one."

He struggled with it himself. Struggled with seeing himself as that sort of person too, even if he worked hard to not be controlled by what normally controlled his kind. A life lived in rage was no life at all.

His question drew a snort from him, and he covered his mouth to keep from outright laughing.

"Not so, no. I wouldn't be caught dead in drab brown robes."

Of course he had his reasons for that too.

"I think I know about the time you're from. That is nearly four-thousand years in the future for me. In my time, both the Jedi and the Sith are plentiful. Probably more Jedi than there are Sith, to be honest. After all, unlike how the Jedi Order works, those who do not manage to become Sith, die."

Cal stepped back, as though the ground beneath his feet had shifted with the revelation of just how great a span of time lay between them. He'd heard stories of such old times, when the Jedi were greater in number, although to a youngling it seemed that the Order was already so. And now it was all gone. It was always there, that dull ache for what was lost, and he knew if he let that door open any wider, he'd just see the disappointed face of his master again.

That was a memory far too fresh, and all the more difficult to banish. There were still things he was struggling with. He'd fought to get himself back to the level that he'd slipped from five years ago, but some things, as he'd found, were not so easily conquered.

"Wait. If you're familiar with the timeframe I'm from, then does that mean you've met others..?" Or was it some vision thing?

"The Agrii seem to favor the future. Myself and one other are the anomalies."

It was perhaps a little strange, but it wasn't like he understood what went through the Agrii's minds when they chose their heroes. Perhaps they didn't choose at all, and it was all random. It wouldn't surprise him at all if that was the truth.

"Whether they are from the exact point in time you are from, I do not know, however."

Had to be close though.

It seemed that pressing for details wouldn't get him any answers he wanted, not when even the Sith had no idea of how the Agrii operated. Cal nodded reluctantly, but willing to let the matter go. If there was anyone from a more recognizable point in time, he supposed he'd find out soon enough. He wasn't even really sure if that would be a good thing or not, but it was something he didn't need to worry about now.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing again. "...this is a lot to process."

BD-1 paused from his beep-booping at his newfound friend, glancing back at Cal before skittering on back to the padawan with an inquisitive hoot. It was hard to reassure the droid when he still felt like he hadn't properly gotten his feet under him from Dathomir.

"I'm... I don't know. I don't think 'all right' fits with any of this but..." He looked over at the other man. "...we all have to make-do, I guess."

"I can imagine it is, yes."

Altair hadn't exactly been happy himself, when he arrived. And it had been a lot to take in, that he was stuck here, even if he had important business back home. It was the same for everyone. Time hadn't exactly lessened the blow, but eventually he'd just had to accept that this was life for now. He had reasons to stay now, too. But also reasons to wish to go home.

The Jedi sounded... Exhausted, he supposed. He could understand that.

"You can rest assured, at least, that most here will be willing to help. There is shelter, food, water. It's not home, but... I don't think any of us can afford to lay down and die."

RE-1, seeing BD-1 climb on the Jedi, ran back to his owner and hopped up and down with high-pitched chirps and Altair couldn't help but let out a slight laugh, "I think you're a bit too heavy for me to physically carry, RE-1."

Even so, he knelt down to pat the droid, before lifting his head slightly to speak to the Jedi again, "Even I am concerned for the survival of all who are here. Even your survival."

Despite their differences. A Sith and a Jedi should be fighting, but he wasn't interested in doing any of that.

"You are not alone, young Jedi."

Never mind that he was barely any older himself.

Any other time, he would have laughed as he saw the Sith's droid seeming to ask if he could hitch a ride as BD-1 so effortlessly scrambles back up onto Cal's shoulder. Exhaustion was part of it. He was partially afraid that if he stopped to actually let things catch up with him, he wouldn't be able to pick himself up again. Maybe that was how it had been ever since he'd been saved on Bracca.

It was funny being reassured by a self-proclaimed Sith, the irony of it almost painful. But they're welcome words, a welcome reminder, even if it simultaneously makes old wounds ache.

"...good to know." The smile he managed was only barely passable for one, but he was trying as he stepped towards the Sith and his droid, extending a hand.

"I'm Cal, by the way. Cal Kestis."

"Altair Kallig," Altair said, standing back up and reaching to take Cal's hand, a brief but firm handshake, offering only the slightest of smiles himself.

"I also go by Darth Nox, but I assume you'll prefer to call me by my actual name."

And honestly, in this place, he far preferred being called by his first name or his last name, anyway. After all, there was no Dark Council for him to sit on here, no Sith business to deal with, no war to fight in, no legions to command. Not even a tomb to disappear into. At home, he was Lord Nox. Here, he was only himself. It was something he was working on coming to terms with.

"Jedi don't tend to care much for Sith ranks, at any rate."

"Doesn't seem like titles and ranks have much place here anyway, and if we're not only galaxies away from home, even less." Cal shrugged, but he seemed more at ease now.

"So what's next? I saw some ships coming in- does that mean we're able to go off world?" Not that he had any idea where he'd want to go, and with the matter of time becoming a surprise factor as well, even if they turned out to be somewhere within the known systems, there was no telling how familiar they'd be.

"How much has been done so far?"

"A Sith is a Sith no matter where he is... Though there are certainly Sith more concerned about their precious titles than I."

Some Sith would kill for a single insult. Altair was a tad more balanced than that. At least so far as missing titles went. There was some disrespect even he couldn't ignore. Though he doubted the Jedi would ever stoop to the level his fellow Sith at home would.

"There are ships, yes, though our dear hosts control whether we come or go- very concerned with us doing things at their pace rather than our own, I suppose."

Altair still wasn't sure whether they were malicious or incompetent or a mix of both.

"And very little, I'm afraid. The coming storm is the most dangerous thing that's happened so far, and I imagine many of our fellow captives are headed that-a-way. I was headed to the hospital- the Agrii will have their heroes, for sure, but I'll play the healer here. However lousy I'll be at it."

Sith weren't exactly known for their desire to heal.

If Altair insisted on being called Darth Nox then Cal would oblige him, but he'd mainly wanted to give the other another option than to keep being called Jedi.

He frowned just a little as it was revealed that even the available ships were limited for whatever purposes their mysterious hosts needed of them. "I guess giving an obvious chance of escape would be kind of counter-productive to them," he sighed, maybe just a touch overdramatically. Well, it wasn't like he expected things to be easy.

"A storm?" The immediate skies seemed clear, although he had noticed the possibility of something further along the horizon. Brows lift, and Cal couldn't help but look amused at Altair's admission. "That's the spirit," he said dryly before giving a shake of his head. "Well, better than no healers at all, right?"

"They are rather insisted on keeping us in a glass jar and shaking it every so often to keep things interesting, yes."

That made them sound malicious more than anything else, he supposed, his tone drier than a desert. But for all their insistence on them being their heroes, the gifts, any plea for help, Altair couldn't exactly buy that they were the innocent victims of disaster they liked to show themselves as.

Surely there had to be creatures in this world that could have been their savior. Instead they had chosen unwilling champions. Plucked them away from their lives, their friends, and their families. Though he had many here he cared for, he still worried for his home. And wished that he could at least know if his Empire still survived.

"And I intend to do my best. But Sith make poor healers- I'm sure you can imagine why."

The analogy did sound unpleasant but sadly not too distant from what Cal was beginning to think of things. For all that the Agrii were asking of them, like Altair, he couldn't really see how any of how they'd handled things was okay.

"...how is anyone even able to bring people here without their knowing, anyway. And from different times aside from worlds?"

That was the other concern, that such a people had the ability to do something like that at all. The fact that they didn't seem to care about whatever their 'heroes' were invested in at the time was especially troubling.

"But you're choosing to handle things at the hospital. Are things that shorthanded?"

"Who knows. In all my time researching rituals, I've never come across anything like what the Agrii do. Technology superior to our own, perhaps?"

Not something he often pondered, as the answers likely wasn't to be found anywhere on the planet. Agrii civilization had to have been grand, at some point, but now only ruins remained. Ruins and data points, though all those did was give them information on certain subjects.

"I personally find it strange that they need us in the first place. I was on Makeb when the planet ceased to be able to support the lives of the people there and I believe they all fled to the Republic to find new homes on other planets. Likewise the ancient Sith once abandoned their home on Korriban to seek another place to call their own. Many civilizations must have done the same, too. Strange that the Agrii seem unable to do so."

He didn't think they particularly needed this planet to survive, or even thrive.

"Unfortunately, yes. Healing is not something I'd choose but I..."

He paused, his guard on his emotions dropping as he thought. Sadness, terror, and icy, sinking feeling.

"Never mind. A healer is currently more useful than a fighter. That's enough for me."

"Possible." If disturbing. But he'd come upon some amazing devices built by the ancient Zeffonians that he'd never seen nor heard of anywhere else before. "The galaxy's a big place."

He looked at Altair again, nodding as he conceded the point. Usually if a place was beyond saving or just too dangerous, then a people moved on. "Maybe there's something they need here," he suggested. "Where do they even stay now?"

The shift in emotion from the other almost startled him, and Cal flicked a glance back from where he'd been letting his gaze drift towards the sky. He hesitated to ask, not feeling it his right to, knowing that he wouldn't feel comfortable answering questions himself, at least, not to someone he'd just met.

"...I think that makes sense," he said, given what little they knew of what to expect from the storm.

"It is. And to think a short while ago, it seemed so small to me."

Not that short of a while ago, but still. The galaxy was truly bigger than he ever could have expected. This too. Another lesson in how many mysteries there were, though this lesson had been an unwelcome one for most of them.

"And that is a good question. One that I assume will remain unanswered for some time."

He tried to ignore his own shift in emotion, even if the memories that flooded his mind made him feel as though he was drowning. Nothing he'd discuss with a stranger.

"It does. I should move on to make myself useful- you are, of course, welcome to contact me whenever you should feel like it. And should you get injured, too."

Back home the Empire was still meaning to bring as much of the galaxy under its fist, and while it was disheartening seeing Imperials show up in places that shouldn't have, Cal was glad that even on the planets they did have a presence on, they were still fighting to keep it. There were still people out there who wouldn't stand for it. That was enough of a hope.

Unsurprised by the lack of answers regarding the Agrii themselves, Cal looked at BD-1 before shrugging a bit once more. Hopefully the Agrii would learn that they needed to be a little more open with their victims.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I'm holding you up." This storm thing wasn't going to wait for anyone, and although he rather hoped no one would be needing medical expertise, it was wiser to be prepared. The padawan dipped his head in a nod at Altair then.

"Thanks. I'll do that. Guess I should figure out what to do too, then."

"No need to apologize. You only just arrived, after all, it's understandable that you would have questions. And besides, if someone's managed to get themselves hurt already, I'm going to have to question their survival skills."

He gave a slight bow, a hand to his chest- perfectly polite. It was a habit he'd picked up after being dragged off to Korriban to become Sith.

"If you're going into the storm, be careful. Keep your wits about yourself, and an eye on your fellows. But I don't think I need to say too much about that to a Jedi."

Protecting people was a Jedi's duty, after all, from what he understood.

That said, he began moving again, RE-1 following closely after him.

"Seems like something to check out if that's a major reason for why we're here, anyway," Cal replied, although even he had some reserves about it. But there seemed little else he knew to do, and at least even without a lightsaber, he could still help others out.

That was enough for him for now. It was something to put his feet towards.

He gave the Sith a salute, having long shed the decorum and mannerisms expected of a Jedi when the only identity he'd ever known had become a surefire way to get himself killed. After watching Altair and RE-1 head off presumably for the hospital, Cal continued on towards where he'd seen the ships come in.

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Padawan Lost

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