The What?!!?!?

[Tieru Ocarre]

The What?!!?!?


The man sat in his chamber. Every hour had passed with a stench of fodders, sweaty scales, oil, and fuel torching the man's resentful nose. Far too much time had seperated his last flight and the present, and his quartine from the funk that could only be constructed from Mid-Rim space travel had come to a drastic end. Toddlers dashed around the sleeping quarters without heed, yelling their little heads off until the worst man's imagination could conjure those little heads popping off.

Really, Tieru was starting to regret his descion to head for Vortex.

No one was absolutely certain that this was the centre to the Jedi reconstruction. All of it was a hunch from an old Jedi Knight named Terran. By the way, Terran was the traveler's Master, but still a hunch.

All the Force woo-blah, and dynamic magic tricks could do nothing when a stinky babies drops were filling up the room. There seemed to be a paternship in woe that was sowing an ugly sweater for Tieru, and he didn't like the present one bit.

Literally...he didn't like the present one bit.

He wanted to get there already. A lot was riding on his visit. All sorts of wild strategies, manuevers, and shirades had been made to ensure his safety from tracking. Recently the Empire had gone under some turmoil, and the sudden pop up of any Jedi wasn't welcomed as much as it was before...not that it ever was. It just seemed worst now, almost worst than ever. It was like some guy realized they were still out there, messing around, and were ruining things again. Nothing had happened yet, so Tieru constantly wondered why the uproar of Jedi's had return to the surface.

When he was off in the Outer Rim, straggling the line between nobody and commoner, he heard more conversation than he needed. One stop to the cantina was like an objective news report on the world. A variety of patrons spoke on issues, revealing more stories than a wise sailor on the seas of Druckenwell or Mon Calamari.

Spacers had heard rumors of Jedi deaths, assassinations, and undisclosed documents on the genocide. Rarely was the topic of the old religion and ways brought up before, so their was a clear disturbance rustling the underworlds feathers. Somehow, someway, something had happened to bring some attention. No one seemed to change their view on the religion being anything more than a shame, which it is, but thats how it goes.

Tieru didn't care to intrude on any of the discussions, nor did he see fit to interrupt the child's tantrum. Instead, he slumped over in his bunk and stared at the ceiling absently. Loads of spacers, tourist, commoners, wayfarers and settlers flooded the rooms, turning the four-bunk rooms into six-bunk rooms...somehow.

Bodies wrestled on the floor, scrunched in awkward positions on dirty napsacks. Thankfully, Tieru wasn't one of the unlucky ones that had to be stuck on the floor, so he kept his eyes away and awake. There was no telling when someone might try to snatch him out of his bed for his comfy spread. Yet, the uneasiness was a bit pressuring.

Tieru didn't like pressure. Really, few people like pressure, so he got up and headed out for a walk through the ship. From the info on his datapad there was only a few more hours until they reached Glythe Sector, so everything seemed to be fine. Even if someone woke to take his sack, he would take the halls instead. Nothing was wrong with being sprawled in the corridors - he had been in worst positions before.

"Calm down, kid..." He said as he stepped into the lift at the end of the polished hall. A pleasant wave was all he gave to the running child, screaming about through the travelers slumber. Tieru was heading to the mess hall...he wanted some water.

[Tieru Ocarre]

Tieru didn't comprehend Terran's aptitude, and affinity for the Force. Although years had diminished his capabilities, Tieru's own Force strengths returned with a certainity that rejuvinated his very body, but he still didn't have such a link to the Force that he could sense tremors.

Years had established Terran as a polished mage, while Tieru moved idle away from it's guidance as another face amongst the crowd for 20 years. The return to the world of a Jedi was one of change, but the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months that had made the once apprehensive ex-Jedi a full-fledge Padawan once more.

Somehow, he kept a balance between civilizan, and weird guy in the corner. No one would suspect his abilities. Basically, Tieru's act was good, in spite of his growth. Since the two seperated his studies had grown far more self-reliant, and secretive. Although the two were stuffed away in caves on a dark planet in Empire space, there couldn't be any more danger than traveling the many planets with a lightsaber hidden under your garb.

Everyday he found a moment of solitude, exempt from possible scrutiny and caution, turning any quiet grounds into those for training. Once he sliced the mirror in a restuarant's refresher in half practicing his prized expertise of swordsmanship.

Over the spars between Master and apprentice, he had manage to regain all his tricks while learning more. At times he even saw sweats trickle down his Master's face, stressed from his aggressive retorts and blows.

A confidence exuded from his person anytime he wield his blade in hand. Although a registered blaster was stuffed in his bag, he rarely saw the need for it - not that he got into any bouts. Yet, his voyage had taken him many places, and mostly through the Outer Rim where brawls broke out with little communication. A calm, curteous chit-chat in Mos Eisley could turn into a battle in a matter of seconds, but his studious eyes kept wary of such cross-fire. Even when his imagination put him as the fighter's role, there was no point in blasting away.

All he needed was his lightsaber.

Slumped over in the mess hall, he looked over his meal with curiosity. Little attention had been paid to the details on the chefs part, but Tieru knew not to expect much. Anytime in the past he took a flight through the Mid-Rim there was not a good bite to eat. It was like the meals were made to lack in every nutrious element known to made - and broken down for a distasteful chomp.

Instead of deal with it, he pushed it aside and looked into his datapad. Public information on Vortex rested in his newly updated datachip, so he began his read. The planet was a weird one, and he had never been there before, so all the info he could get, he would take. There was a possibility...a small possibility, if Terran was right, that he'd be there for a long...long...long time.

[Tieru Ocarre]

Tieru didn't like the food...

Tieru didn't like to wait...

Tieru didn't like much, but he did have hope. Even as he sat there as the flight wanned on his conscious, he gleamed. Word had come over the intercom a few hours back that they were nearing their landing, but he wasn't worried. Instead, his mind was ahead of the time, wondering about the cases that would arise during his landing.

Vortex wasn't familiar grounds. Nobody knew him there, and he didn't have the slightest idea as to how he would find these Jedi. It wasn't like they were running around, having costume parties in old robes across the planet or anything - it just wasn't going to be easy. The possibilities ranged almost infinite, and to explore them wasn't within his time schedule.

So, he sat there, motionless in his chair, staring out into space. The lines of hyperspace wrapped about the ship, but he couldn't think in that speed - not that it would help. He had to execute when he landed, and execute fast. One slight step could leave him exposed, like some fool, or lost in a maze of wrongs.

Master Starek would say to trust the Force. It was getting hard.