Iskellia Sarken - Disturbing the Ashes
OOC Note: This takes place a few months back, in-character. Before Iskellia lost her arm in the Republic Extremist event. And it’s technically still ongoing, as a RP between @announcer and myself. But the longer this is waiting to be posted, the more out-of-date it becomes. So I’m posting it in sections, to put SOMETHING up and canonized before this entire RP becomes hopelessly outdated.
“You have reached: Alderaan. Now arriving at: Pallista Spaceport,” the female-voiced droid says over the loudspeakers of the large public shuttlecraft.
Wearing a dark green hooded jacket, Iskellia keeps the hood up, covering her bald skull and concealing her face (what little of it can be seen anyway, over her respirator) as she hunches, slumping down into her seat. Seated next to her, the synesthesic Callista can still see her emotional aura flickering with the sickly greens of anxiety, the grays and browns of fear, the duller yellow of nervousness…Negative emotions roil and ripple around her in a visual cloud, reinforcing the unsteady rhythm of her respirator’s hiss.
“I…I didn’t think I would be …[hHH] this nervous,” she admits, the amplifier of her rebreather tuned low to keep her words below the ambient hum and chatter of the other passengers. “…It’s been…wow. Almost ten years since I left.” [khHH]
The younger, yet more senior Jedi looks over to Iskellia, her face somewhat unreadable. Her bright blonde hair is actually a bit better kept than usual, with a single pastel-pink clip helping to hold some of it in place at the side of her head. Her choice of attire is similarly casual, her old navy blue jacket and cargo pants she frequented around the time of her arrival on Viscara. She watches Iskellia with her grey-hazel eyes, and just gives a silent grin after a moment.
Without replying directly, she hops up from her seat and moves over to the window. The scenery passes swiftly by outside while the shuttle pulls in to land, and Callista’s expression of cheer only broadens as she looks up to the text-scrolling screen above the passenger aisles. With a little giggle, she steps forward and points up to it.
“Hey Iskie! Guess what?” she calls back, looking over her shoulder at first but then turning around while maintaining her point. “You brought Callista to Pallista!” she declares with a broad, willfully ridiculous grin.
Iskellia’s cloud of negativity goes blank for a moment in confusion, then ripples with a bright flash of astonished amusement as her smoky lung rasps a reluctant chuckle. “Heheh… You… [khhhh] You’re silly. Hee.”
She stands up with a hiss, coming over to join Callista at the window. A soaring gorgeous vista pans by, stretching out below them as the shuttle breaks through the cloud layer, and Callista can finally see the soaring natural beauty that Iskellia talked about for so long.
“Woooow…!” Callista marvels at the landscapes below, eyes lit up with wonder. “It’s like the Gladean Parks back home…!”
“Galdean Parks…?” Iskellia echoes, looking to her teacher with a visible ripple of curious bemusement.
“The Gladean State Parks on Chandrila,” the blonde reiterates with a grin over to Iskellia, looking nothing like a serene Jedi for the moment. Her smile shines with her eyes. “They were these biiiig stretches of land, at least one or two in almost every city. All full of gardens and fields and rivers, plants and animals of all kinds… my family used to always go out for picnics there, and we’d sit out on the balmgrass and watch the wild squalls play~…”
She giggles and gives a sigh. “It was beautiful… and so is Alderaan!”
Iskellia’s returning smile shines as well despite her respirator, the brightening of her mood visible in her glistening aura as she looks back out the window. “That it is…” she agrees quietly, looking over the soaring landscapes.
“Dr. Celchu, please report to Landing Bay 12…Last call, Dr. Celchu for flight to Corellia…”
“The Inter-House Security Bureau would like to remind passengers that complying with pilot instructions…”
“Axios Rist, please pick up your package at the front desk…”
Announcements and dronings of any normal spaceport sound over the public address systems as Iskellia and Callista step off the shuttle and make their way through the thronging crowds of people and sentients. Most of the people they pass seem to be Human, though the occasional Twi’lek or other alien are not uncommon.
The two Jedi step out of the starport, and Callista can notice a change coming over her friend and student. The years of swagger and bluster learned from the hard streets of Nar Shaddaa seem to drain away, leaving her almost timid and hesitant as she looks around the snow-dappled city structures. A massive citadel looms in the distance, but with plenty of structures and city streets between here and there.
Iskellia’s sunken eyes close for a moment, and she audibly takes a deep hissing breath of the clean, crisp mountain air. [HHHHHHHHHh…phhhffffff…] “I’d forgotten this smell…” she murmurs almost to herself, looking up towards the sparkling blue skies.
After a long moment, she shakes her head and seems to come back to her senses. “Um. So, welcome to Alderaan!” She spreads her arms wide, indicating the views around them.
[KhHHHh] “…Now that I think of it, actually, I’m…not entirely sure where to begin looking,” Iskellia admits. “For parts and things. I had been thinking of some of the smooth river stones near…[hHHh]… my old home, or maybe some volcanic glass. But…[hHHh] …to be honest, I, uh…I’m not totally sure where that…is. Heh.”
She looks around again, then up at the soaring citadel in the distance. “…That’s Castle Organa,” she identifies for Callista’s benefit. “Republic’s strongest ally here, and one of the highest royal Houses. …[hHHh]…House Organa prides themselves on, well, lots of things, but among them compassion and civic duty. …[HHhh]…Most relevant to us, the Organa Libraries are one of the most extensive on the planet. If anyone needs to find anything, they can start in there.”
“Well, maybe they have records of where House Sarken is, then? Or some volcanoes?” Callista suggests with a smile, already starting on her way towards the towering palace. “C’mon, let’s go! I’ve never been in a castle before, I wanna see!”
Iskellia’s emotional aura shifts from hesitation to brighter amusement at Callista’s enthusiasm. Chuckling, she leads Callista through the streets of Aldera, weaving in among the busy foot traffic and occasional land and airspeeders whizzing through the wide avenues. While certainly no megalopolis like Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa, the capitol city of a Core World is still very much the bustling hub of activity. The two of them pass numerous defensive installations and turrets as they approach the castle, all crewed by Humans in elegant uniforms who nod to the visitors with friendly smiles.
Up close, Castle Organa is even more impressive than it was at a distance, its soaring spires reaching towards space, with a wide welcoming entrance archway. Inside, beyond a small atrium to ensure proper flow of foot traffic, the castle is a stunning sight of architectural beauty, red carpets and gold trimmings, with towering statues of important Organa statesmen looking regally down upon the visiting Jedi.
Despite the towering halls, the ceilings are so high that sound is not amplified, but is instead almost hushed by the acoustics, giving the castle an atmosphere of both intimacy and grand opulence. Iskellia looks around the towering environs, seeming almost as surprised as Callista as she simply gawks at the sheer scale of casual wealth on display.
“[hHh]…Woah. It’s…a lot bigger than I remember it,” she comments. "I knew Organa was powerful, and, y’know, the grandest of all the Great Houses and everything…but…holy crap~."
Callista wanders around in apparent distraction, examining every aspect of the massive chambers they pass through. Iskellia can practically see the bottled-up, child-like urges to touch and climb on things playing out on Callista’s face as the young, teenage Knight follows her Padawan along. It was easy to forget, sometimes, how young she really was.
“Where’s the library?” she asks in a hush, seeming almost afraid to speak loudly in such a place. “We might have to ask for directions…”
“Yeah…” Iskellia nods. Looking around, she approaches two men in discussion, both wearing finery of blue and silver.
“Cortess wants to get a new ally appointed to the barony…” One mutters quietly to the other, deep in conversation.
Iskellia pauses at that, but the two of them look over to her as the hiss of her respirator makes her known. The first man, wearing a neat goatee, wrinkles his nose in fascinated horror as his eyes roam over Iskellia’s mutilated face. His companion, clean-shaven with a strong jaw, has a more controlled reaction as he offers a genteel nod. Callista can see a pang of anxiety flicker through her Padawan’s emotional aura, but it’s too late to back off now.
[hHhh] “…Excuse me, sirs,” she rasps, “where can we find the Royal Library?”
“The Royal Library?” The bearded man repeats, looking down at Iskellia’s shabbier street clothes and burnt appearance. His expression hardens. “If you’re looking to fence some books, don’t bother. There’s a perfectly serviceable vagrant’s shelter just down the street.”
“At least try to have some manners, Rydell!” His companion snaps at him. “This is a public area, remember?”
Rydell scoffs and rolls his eyes, and the other man shakes his head before smiling at Iskellia. "Forgive my brother’s rudeness, ma’am, he still struggles with the necessity of discretion," he aims this last word through gritted teeth at Rydell. “Kirnon Cortess. What can I help you with?”
“Just finding the Royal Library,” Iskellia repeats. She pauses as a flash of recognition dawns in her sunken eyes, and she can’t seem to help herself from adding, “Cortess…? What brings an ally of House Thul…[hHhh] to the halls of the Organas?”
“Oh, just a territory dispute,” Kirnon rolls his eyes. “Boring stuff, but one has to put on a show. Anyway…the Royal Library’s going to be up those stairs there, second hall on the left,” he points further down the yawning golden halls.
“Thanks,” Iskellia nods.
As she turns to go, Kirnon adds, “But now I’m curious…I wouldn’t think a random visitor to know anything about House alliances of Alderaanian politics, but you rattled that off like a native.” His eyes narrow. “What’s your name?”
Iskellia’s mask puffs for a moment, and Callista can see a flash of panic, followed instantly by frustrated regret at her verbal slip-up as she hesitates. “Um…”
Callista just smiles in return, perhaps comfortingly or perhaps just being unhelpfully cryptic. As the moment stretches on slightly, she just gives a tiny shrug of her head and a nod towards the man, seemingly encouraging her to respond.
“I…Iskellia,” the psion says.
“Iskellia…?” Kirnon raises his eyebrows expectantly.
Iskellia audibly swallows. “…Sarken.”
“Sarken, Sarken, Sarken…” Kirnon muttters to himself, his eyes roaming over the unscarred side of her face searchingly. “That’s…familiar…Not one of the Greats, one I haven’t heard for a long time…”
He snaps his fingers. “Ah! Kandor, yes? Financial Minister of…Jeranno, wasn’t it?”
She winces, then draws herself up. “…Yes. He’s my father.”
“…Aha,” Kirnon gives a cold smile. “So then you’re that little problem that turned that little town inside out back then. He was always vague about what brought him here. Well, well. How time flies, hmm?”
Iskellia folds her arms. “Little problem?” she repeats, affronted.
Kirnon’s smile drains away, and he actually shrinks back a half-step. “Well, not problem as such…You’ll be happy to know that the vassals and allies of House Thul are now much more closely watched for…gifted…individuals, since your little, ah…escapades. Besides,” he lowers his voice secretively, "thanks to Thul’s alliance with the Sith Empire, we’re always happy to receive those with…potential."
Iskellia’s mask hisses as she breathes deeply, clearly struggling with a rising tide of anger.
Callista finally takes this as her cue to step in, and she gives a gentle smile while approaching the trio. “Thank you for your help, Mr.-… er, Sir-… Lord…?” she twists her expression in indecision for a moment before bowing her head. “Thank you! It’s good to know that cases like Iskellia’s are being cared for now.”
Though her demeanor is far from the nuanced courtesies of a courtly noble, her polite and diplomatic tone comes through well in her soft-spoken voice, addressing the man with respect and ease that comes with a certain degree of experience in dealing with those who might consider themselves ‘above’ her. “Before we go, though, I actually had a question or two of my own if it isn’t too much trouble? I know you must be busy, we appreciate you taking the time to speak with us!”
Kirnon’s smile instantly returns as he turns to the far less threatening, far more approachable alternative to Iskellia’s temper. “Of course, young lady! It’s no trouble at all, I assure you…How can I assist you?”
Iskellia turns away, taking a moment to close her eyes and attempt to compose herself again.
For just a brief instant, Iskellia can feel the faint flutter of Callista’s presence in the Force as if spritzing her like a reassuring mist while the blonde occupies the Cortess brothers’ attention. “We were actually hoping to go visit Iskellia’s old home town, would you happen to know where it is? She’s been away a long time, and never really had to navigate for herself when she lived here.”
“Juranno? Of course, it’s a short speeder ride to the west,” Kirnon smiles at her. “Or, if you want something more scenic, you could even ride a thranta there. There’s a liftoff terminal just outside the main gate, down the street.”
"A thranta?" Callista asks in surprise and sudden, fascinated excitement. She leans back slightly as her eyes widen with wonder at the mere concept. "Those big flying things outside? You can ride them??"
“Oh, yes!” Kirnon assures her with a nod. “They’re quite docile creatures, and fly from nest to nest, easily converted into our own local transportation network. It’s a far better tour than the shuttle fly-over, highly recommended by all the tourism bureaus.”
“Perhaps you’d better join the Tourism Bureau yourself, Kirnon,” Rydell puts in acidly. “You certainly enjoy batting eyes at any woman who walks within ten meters of you.”
Kirnon sighs. “Do excuse us, ladies, business calls… and Welcome home, Lady Sarken,” he adds to Iskellia as the psion turns around again. She simply gives a cold nod to him, and he shrugs, turning back towards his brother and walking away.
“…What a snake,” Iskellia grates as soon as the two are out of earshot. She emits a sigh, adding under her breath, “By the way, for most nobles we meet here…[hHHh] it’s going to be Lord X or Lady X.”
“Pardon me…” A soft voice comes from behind them. The two women turn as the speaker steps forward from her position around the corner of one of the towering statues. As she enters the light, the golden hues of the Castle reveal the simple brown robes and tan tunic of a Jedi! The Nautolan woman smiles at them as she clasps her hands, her large dark eyes looking between the still-hooded Iskellia and the cheerful Callista. “I couldn’t help but hear…You’re seeking the old estate of House…Sarken?”
Callista looks back with a curious expression, eyes passing over the woman a few times as well as the space around her. “Yeah, that’s right,” she affirms positively with a glance to Iskellia. “It’s where she used to live, and we wanted to pay it a visit.”
The Jedi looks between the two of them, her aura (to Callista’s eyes) mingling between shock and hope.
“You!” Iskellia’s mask hisses in a gasp, and she raises her head and throws her hood back, staring with wide eyes.
The Jedi gives an ecstatic gasp of joy upon seeing her face, rushing forward and enfolding the scarred psion in a careful hug around her shoulders. "Iskellia! You are alive!"
Instead of squirming awkwardly like Callista has seen her do in 90% of all hugs, Iskellia slumps forward into the embrace, returning the gesture in disbelief and deep gratitude. The two of them remain enfolded for a good several moments before the Jedi steps back, looking Iskellia up and down. “But what’s all this? What did they do to you?” She prods Iskellia’s armored brace over her right arm.
[hHhh] “They…well, they did a lot of stuff…” Iskellia rubs her neck.
The Nautolan stares at her for a moment, then blinks and turns to Callista. “I’m sorry, how rude of me. Forgive my manners. I’m Jedi Knight Karsa Neyari,” she introduces herself, reaching out her hand towards Callista.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” Callista reaches forward with both hands to clasp the Nautolan’s and shakes with a sort of gentle vigor. “I’m Knight Callista Selkin. Iskellia’s my Padawan!”
Karsa’s large black eyes get even wider, if that’s even possible, and her radiance erupts in purest joy and pride. “I knew I sensed the Force strongly in you two! But, wait, you’re a Jedi? Where are your robes?”
She pauses, blinking her huge eyes. “…Wait, ISKELLIA is a Jedi?!”
“Um. Surpriiiiiiiiise…!” Iskellia offers a little shyly.
“This, this is everything I could have hoped!” Karsa beams. “Back then, I could feel the Force within you, all that power and potential… but wild and raw, unrefined. I’m so incredibly happy you found a Master, found your way to us Jedi!”
“…I should explain,” Iskellia adds to Callista, “she’s the one who…[hHhh] who pulled me out of the fire, brought me to the hospital…”
“Yes, indeed,” Karsa nods, her beaming grin lessening slightly. “You see, I’m a diplomatic Consular from the High Council on Coruscant, part of the official diplomatic envoy to Alderaan.”
“Really?” Callista looks to Karsa with genuine fascination. “That’s amazing! I’m a Consular too – well sort of, anyway, it’s the style that I think fits me best. And Iskellia’s going to be one too, I think!”
“That’s wonderful! Both of you Consulars?” Karsa asks, grinning.
“Well, it’s either that or maybe a Sentinel…my first Master said I’d make…[hHHh] a good Investigator…” Iskellia shrugs. “But after the fires…even with all the cardio and training of the Jedi, I’m still a lot…[hHhh]… weaker, physically…than pretty much every other Jedi on our planet.” She lowers her head, her emotional aura of joy flickering with frustration and shame.
“So, you decided to become a Consular?” Karsa asks.
Iskellia waves her hand in an ambivalent motion. “I guess? Not really because I’m any good at diplomacy…I mean, I’ve still got all my…[Hhhh] … nobility skills from around here, I can switch that on and off when I need to…But no, it was more because my natural talents are so heavily with Force use and telekinetics. …[hHHh] On top of that, I’ve had to learn a lot about medicine and Force Healing, so I thought…specializing into a Jedi Healer could be an interesting career. …[hHHh] Since, y’know, there’s no such thing as a Jedi Airspeeder-Thrower. Heh.”
“So, yeah,” she sighs, “there’s a lotta different directions I’m wanting to take my Jedi career…[khHhh]…Consular, Healer, Investigator, Force specialist… it’s a whole thing.”
Karsa nods understandingly. “It’s a lot to sort through,” she agrees. Looking to Callista, she adds, “So, what brings you two to Alderaan? Or…back to Alderaan?”
Callista eyes Iskellia for a moment with a faint hint of sympathy, but she holds her thoughts for the time being, just placing a hand on Iskellia’s back and rubbing softly to assuage her. “Well, um, Iskellia’s lightsaber, actually. I’m teaching her how to build one, running through all the mechanics and stuff with her every so often, and she was thinking she might want some elements for the hilt exterior taken from here on Alderaan!”
“Plus it could be a good chance to practice my own diplomacy skills,” the blonde adds with a light-hearted smile. “I’m, uh, new to being a Knight, and… none of the people who trained me were Consulars. So that’s a challenge.”
Karsa smiles, brushing one of her head-tentacles behind her shoulder. “Well, if you like, I can give you advice and pointers,” she offers. “You know, one Knight-diplomat to another~?”
“That would be great! I’d love that,” Callista answers brightly, subconsciously mirroring the Nautolan by brushing back some of her blonde hair behind her ear.
“Good, good,” Karsa nods, looking back to Iskellia. “So, you were wanting to use some authentic Alderaanian materials for your lightsaber? Do you have something particular in mind?”
Iskellia nods. “Yeah, I…I was thinking of finding a piece of the river rocks by the old mansion, maybe incorporate that…[hHhh] into the hilt somehow. Or maybe some volcanic glass…”
“River rocks and volcanic glass…?” Karsa quirks a brow curiously.
“River rocks, from a spot that my…[hHHh] my Mom took me to when I was little,” Iskellia says quietly. “And then volcanic glass, magma, because…” She gestures up at her scorched and scarred face with her equally mutilated left hand.
Karsa’s face falls slightly, her aura mixing happiness with sympathy and pity. “…Because you want a lightsaber that reflects your outer appearance, not who you actually are?” She finishes bluntly.
Iskellia blinks at her, boggling. “…'scuse me?”
“I was hoping she’d figure that part out on her own,” Callista leans in and whispers to Karsa.
“Apparently not,” the Nautolan murmurs back.
“I’m sure Master Selkin taught you that the lightsaber is a reflection of your inner self and your pure being,” she lectures. “It’s not something that changes according to your appearance, unless whatever outer scars you bear truly changed your fundamental being. You don’t…you don’t make your lightsaber blue because you put on a blue shirt that day! Right?” She chuckles.
“Wh–I–you don’t–” Iskellia sputters, her eyes wide.
“What?” Karsa asks her, a small smile playing about her lips.
“You don’t under–”
“–Oh but I do understand,” Karsa interrupts her, putting admonishment into her tone as her smile vanishes completely, like flipping off a switch. "I was there too, lest you forget. I know exactly what you went through, Iskellia Sarken, because I pulled you out of that hellfire. You think your scars are bad? You never saw your wounds fresh." Her voice quivers with emotion, which Callista can see reflected in her shimmering aura of horror, relief, disgust, dismay and shock.
“And I stayed by your intensive care room until your condition stabilized and you had a living prognosis. I know exactly what the doctors did to you, even more than you do because you were unconscious for most of it.”
Even Iskellia’s mask has fallen silent in shock at the sudden lecture.
Karsa continues, “And while I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you personally before that fire, I looked into what I could of your past, and what I saw was a bright, intelligent young girl who just… couldn’t control the power inside her. Raw power and natural talent in the Force – even as much talent as yours (which is rarer than you might think) – is completely separate from intellect.”
“You’re not stupid, Iskellia. And I won’t accept bluster for an answer either. You know you can’t just hide behind your scars and play the victim card – even if you do have the best, most understandable, most sympathetic Victim Card in the galaxy I’ve ever seen.”
Iskellia just boggles at her. Callista can see outrage and anger roiling and bubbling in her emotional aura, but her instinctively aggressive response is subsumed under a layer of baffled shock at Karsa’s cutting retort.
Karsa stares at her levelly for a long moment, punctuated only by Iskellia’s hissing mask and the psion’s sputtering attempts at a comeback. Then, just as suddenly as it vanished, the Consular Knight’s smile returns in full blossom as she reaches out and pats Iskellia comfortingly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. I interrupted you. You were about to tell me I don’t understand something?”
Iskellia just blinks, thrown completely off-balance now.
Callista looks on in silent surprise for a moment. Finally, after an awkward silence, she collects her own thoughts enough to interject. “…It was never really about acknowledging the fire that ‘forged’ you, was it, Iskellia?” she says, putting it more gently.
“I…” Iskellia coughs, giving Karsa a decidedly wary look before turning her gaze to Callista, then to the floor. "I… I thought that’s what it was about…That’s what I’ve told myself it was about… " She mutters, her mask still amplifying clearly.
“But I guess… Some part of me still can’t… [khHHh]… quite let go of it yet. Maybe it was just an excuse. I dunno.” Iskellia emits a hissing sigh, looking down.
“Hey. Look at me.” Karsa’s voice is soft as she reaches out to gently take the bottom of Iskellia’s mask as her chin, raising the psion’s gaze up to her again. “It’s okay not to know. Emotions are complicated, and the root causes behind our impulses can be messy and chaotic, coming from many sources at once that defy easy and simple summaries for others. I don’t want you psychoanalyzing yourself, beating yourself down. Or up. Constantly second and third and fourth-guessing yourself is a path that leads to madness.”
She leans back, folding her hands serenely. “Instead, as Jedi we must trust in the Force and allow its wisdom to guide us in times of uncertainty and doubt,” she says, as smoothly as any textbook.
“…Remember that thing I told you, Iskellia? About holding out your hand and closing your eyes, and feeling your lightsaber?” Callista offers her with a soft smile.
Iskellia nods, looking to her again. “Yeah…?”
“Did you ever actually try it?” She tilts her head, prodding helpfully.
“Of course I did!” Iskellia retorts, but the perceptive Callista can see the uncertainty flickering around her emotional aura.
“Perhaps another try would yield a different result?” Karsa suggests.
“I… Maybe…” Iskellia looks around the bustling castle. “Let’s find somewhere a little… [KHhhh] quieter than this for it, anyway…”
Callista gives a little smirk and a nod, then smiles to Karsa. “If you’re not too busy, would you like to come along?”
Karsa pauses for a moment in consideration, then nods. “I would be honored. I’d love the opportunity to get to know the person I saved all those years ago.” She smiles at Iskellia. “If you wouldn’t mind me coming along. I know this is a very personal journey for you.”
“I…” Iskellia hesitates for a moment as her aura shimmers with anxiety and uncertainty. “I suppose? I just…Maybe we shouldn’t be… [khHh] here at all in the first place anymore. I don’t really…I’m not sure anymore what my lightsaber design should be, or…[hHH] whether it needs Alderaanian materials at all. Maybe I…I dunno.”
“No second-guessing yourself, remember?” Karsa reminds her lightly. “Your lightsaber should reflect the core of who you are. If you can’t find it here on Alderaan, where else in the galaxy would you find it?”
Iskellia emits a quiet hissing sigh. “…Yeah. Good point,” she admits. “So, where do we go from here?”
“Well…” Karsa smiles at Callista. “I can tell the look of someone itching to touch and explore an Alderaanian castle when I see one. How about I give Callista a tour, then we can go to your old home here in Aldera and see what speaks to you? And from there, to Juranno?”
“…Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Iskellia nods, her anxiety diminishing somewhat in the face of somebody else making the decisions.
"Woooo! Castle tour!" Callista squees in excitement, bouncing on her heels.
Karsa chuckles. “Well, then…we start by finding ourselves here, in the Grand Hall of Organa Castle…”
She gives a sweeping gesture to encompass the soaring hall, then leads the two of them towards a large staircase curving upwards, festooned with crimson and gold. “Built over the course of decades even with the most advanced constructor droids and skilled artisans available, Castle Organa has stood for centuries as the centerpiece of Alderaanian nobility…Each of the statues you see around us was a respected leader and royalty of House Organa, usually endowed with statuary in honor of great deeds either for the House itself or for the Republic as a whole.”
Iskellia drifts closer, examining a placard at random.
Zallen Organa (3717-3782), Duke of Glarus. Brokered peace between House Cortess and House Syrush during the Cocktail Succession Crisis of 3742.
“…Cocktail Succession Crisis…?” she murmurs.
Karsa glances over. “Oh, yes. There was a cocktail party where the ruler of House Cortess at the time choked on a piece of shrimp and was taken to the infirmary. The problem was that he had declared war against House Syrush, but the charter of House Cortess declared that if its ruler was indisposed, the eldest son takes the throne instead. This sparked off an internal succession crisis within Cortess about who leads and whether or not to go to war against Syrush. Zallen Organa was the lead negotiator who brokered the peace and settled the issue.”
Iskellia emits a hissing sigh. “…Yeah, that sounds like the kind of stupidity…[kHhh] that would spark a succession crisis around here…”
Moving on, Karsa brings them up a wide grand staircase into an upper gallery, where the three of them look down over a soaring view of the Grand Hall itself.
Karsa brings the two of them along the gallery into a series of halls and rooms, from the banquet hall…
…to bustling guest quarters…
…to richly opulent staterooms…
…lavish reception halls…
…and even an advanced communications hub, tucked discreetly away in a side hall and festooned with consoles and terminals.
Even Iskellia seems to be impressed, her eyes wide and gawking as they move through the halls of power. “I gotta say…” she admits to Callista as the tour continues, “I don’t know whether to call this place insane or beautiful…[hHhh]…I’ve never been to one of the Great Castles before. My House wasn’t anywhere close to this kind of stuff…!”
She hesitates, admitting, “…Okay, maybe…[hHhh] some of the rooms were close.”
Despite her initial excitement, Callista gradually quiets down over the course of the tour. By the end, she is reduced to a polite smile and some periodic comments and ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’. She chuckles softly at Iskellia’s remark.
“Well this is all super impressive,” she grants, eyes wandering all around still. “I like all the gold, it makes it look bright and happy.”
“Oh yeah,” Iskellia nods, “totally. …[hHh] …I didn’t know the Organas had such cheerful interior decorators.”
Karsa chuckles. “Certainly in comparison to Thul and its allies, which I’m sure you’re far more familiar with.”
Iskellia nods again.
“Well.” Karsa clasps her hands together, looking to Callista with a smile. “Anything else you’d like to see here? We can stop for lunch in the East Reception Hall if you’re hungry. There’s also armories and dungeons and such if you’re more interested in that…”
“Lunch sounds good…but…[hHhh] I think I’m more interested in staying on track. …[hHh] I’m sure we could get lost in this castle for days…” Iskellia looks around the soaring halls.
“Yeah, let’s go see the thrantas!” Callista says with a grin returning to her face. “I wanna ride a thranta! Can we, canwecanwecanwe??”
“Of course,” Karsa chuckles. “We’ll take one to Juranno. But first, I think Iskellia has been putting off the inevitable long enough.”
“Gee, thanks.” Iskellia gives a filtered sigh. “All right, lemme go check…[hHhh] where we’re going.”
“…You don’t remember where your House was?” Karsa quirks an eyebrow.
Ignoring that, Iskellia takes them through one of the larger archways they haven’t explored yet, where the Jedi find themselves in a soaring cavernous space, hushed voices bouncing distantly off the faraway ceiling, with rows upon rows upon rows of datacard archives and terminals stretching off away from them.
“The Grand Royal Library,” Karsa waves her hand over the vista.
Iskellia’s attention, though, is on the large reference desk in the middle of the library space. Walking slowly, she steps up to the counter of a small old woman with a bun of snow-white hair. Callista can see wonder and anxiety suddenly shimmering around her student as the psion steps up to the desk.
“Ummm…” The forthright Iskellia actually hesitates. “Hi, uh…Could you help me find something?”
“Hmmm?” the old lady squints at her, and Iskellia actually shrinks back a half-step, her aura pulsing with fear. “Yes, of course, what is it?”
“Ms…Bestov, right?” Iskellia drums her fingers on the counter, then points. “…uhh…nametag.”
“Oh. Yes, that’s me, dear, what do you need?” Ms. Bestov gives a tremulous smile.
I’m searching for…[hHhh] the address of House… Sarken." Iskellia pauses a moment longer as the lady squints at her, trying to place the one-fourth of Iskellia’s unscarred face that can be seen. Another moment passes, then she finally shrugs without apparent recognition.
“House Sarken?” The lady tsks pityingly. “Terrible business, that…Terrible business. You won’t find much there now. The whole estate burned down ten years ago.”
“Burned down?” Iskellia asks as if this is new to her.
“Oh yes,” Ms. Bestov nods. “The ruins are still there, since the master of the House moved off-world. Nobody’s built anything back since then either.” She leans closer. “They say it’s cursed, actually…Haunted by the ghost of the little psychic girl who lived there. Whole family burned alive, except the father, thank the Force. They say she killed a half-dozen people in life, and a dozen more as her vengeful spirit wanders the ruins!”
Iskellia’s shoulders slump, and Callista can see her aura darken and dampen with depression, regret, astonishment, outrage, and even a little flicker of amusement. She remains quiet for a moment, absorbing this.
Karsa catches Callista’s eye and tilts her head invitingly towards Iskellia.
Callista glances at Karsa, then at Iskellia, and steps up beside her padawan. “That’s fine, we don’t believe in silly old curses. Besides…” she pats Iskellia’s back softly. “Padawan Sarken is here to make peace with all of that. We just need directions, please.”
Iskellia cringes at Callista calling her out, and Ms. Bestov’s eyes widen. “…Sarken…??”
“…Iskellia….?” She stares at Iskellia for a moment, her gaze roaming over the visible half of Iskellia’s scarred face. “It….IS you…… Back from the dead…”
“Half,” Iskellia rasps, fixing her with a baleful stare.
“I…can see that…Here to make peace, hmmm? Some things are better left buried.” Ms. Bestov’s lips thin. “You were always a bright student, Iskellia… but you never knew when to leave well alone.”
Iskellia stares back at her, folding her arms defiantly as her aura thrums with fear. “I’ve left alone for the past 10 years…[hHHh]…I need to put all this to rest.”
“It already is,” the old teacher retorts.
Iskellia just glares at her.
Ms. Bestov sighs. “…But if you really want to poke around that old ash heap…It’s a mile or so outside the city proper, to the southeast.” She taps a few buttons, and the holodisplay behind her shifts to an aerial view of Aldera, with a red dot appearing where she says.
"Thank you," Iskellia growls, copying the information to her datapad.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Callista maintains her polite smile and bows. “You’ve been very helpful. Please have a lovely day!”
With that, she pats Iskellia’s back again and turns to walk away.
Iskellia stares at her old teacher for a moment. Then she closes her eyes for a moment and puffs a filtered sigh. “… Sorry, Ms. Bestov. But I need to see this through.”
The old teacher blinks at her. “… Well. That’s a first… You never apologized for anything back then. Prideful to a fault.”
Turning to follow Callista, Iskellia pauses and looks back. “…I left that part of me in the ashes.”
The old woman doesn’t really have a response to that, and as another patron comes up to the desk, she has to turn to help the newcomer. But her eyes never leave Iskellia until they’re out of sight.
As Karsa leads the Jedi out of Organa Castle and down the street, Iskellia’s shoulders slump as they walk. “So I’m a ghost now, huh…?.. [hHhhh]… Creepy little psychic girl’s vengeful spirit…”
“Cheer up, Isk,” Callista offers a little smile and punches Iskellia softly in the arm with all the force of a thrown cotton ball. “Being a ghost sounds cool.”
With a faint smirk as they walk, she adds, “Don’t put too much stock in it. The only ‘ghost’ around here is the person you used to be. Just look around.” She lifts a hand and gestures broadly to the open streets, the speeders and thrantas passing over head, the people talking amongst themselves by the corners and and buildings. “…Do you see anyone running scared?”
She looks around dutifully at the people. “…No,” Iskellia admits.
“Then don’t put so much stock into local rumor and superstition,” Karsa advises with a smile. “The people of Alderaan simply don’t know anything about Force Sensitivity or how to react to such a child.”
“So now they’re all stupid instead?” Iskellia heaves a hissing sigh. “Yeah, that sounds about right…”
"I never said that. " Karsa frowns mildly at her. “Are you always such a pessimist?”
The psion’s shoulders slump again. “Usually, yeah. I find it fits…[hHHh]… more often than not.”
Karsa sighs. “Look, Jedi are supposed to refrain from moral or relativistic judgements on other people… Especially if you want to become a Consular or diplomat. I don’t know where a noble of Alderaan learned to speak so bluntly.”
“Nar Shaddaa,” Iskellia rasps.
The Nautolan Knight’s frown deepens. “Oh. …That explains a great deal.”
Iskellia sighs and looks down at her datapad. “I’d forgotten the house was outside the city itself…c’mon, let’s take a speeder.”
The three Jedi walk down the street to a small kiosk, where a simple button push lights up a tower with a large yellow light. A minute or so later, a large yellow airspeeder slides smoothly in towards them. Piling aboard, Iskellia shows her datapad to the droid pilot and hands him a credstick, and they take off into the air, hovering about 50 feet off the ground.
The speeder ride is fairly short, but gives the three of them ample time to look around the stunning views and vistas of Alderaan, misty mountains soaring above sweeping fields and plains.
Despite her earlier slump, Callista can see Iskellia’s mood beginning to pick up again as she looks around, reminding herself of where she is. Even with all the tragedy in her past, it’s clear the dour Iskellia still holds an appreciation and love for Alderaan and its chilling, cold natural beauty.
Callista just smiles to herself and looks around at the sights as they carry on, glad to see the improvement in her friend’s demeanor.
As the speeder goes on, Iskellia begins to sit up in the seat, looking around with more interest as she recognizes sights and landmarks, pointing out a few to Callista as they go. A tree that she liked to sit under here, a little forest or peaceful stream there.
However, as the speeder turns down a long lane of trees and speeds along a durasteel stretch of road, Iskellia’s manner changes again, and it’s soon apparent why. The treetop cover parts, and a dramatic sight greets the three Jedi: A looming, towering edifice of durasteel and stone integrated with the surrounding mountains stands above them, blackened with fire damage, its windows yawning open and empty like gaping wounds. Vines crawl up one wall, blanketing it in greenery, while accumulated snowfall cloaks the upper tops of the roof, beams and eaves.
Iskellia stares up at it in abject horror, her mask falling silent as she seems to even forget how to breathe in the overwhelming shock of the sight…
OOC: Part 2 may take a little bit, since it’s still in progress! I’ll make a new reply when it’s ready.
