Under Lok and Key

[Inyos Aamoran]

The Challenger was an old ship. More importantly, she was an old Republic ship. It was absurd, Inyos knew. His mind muttered warnings, and sections of Jedi text that warned against personal attatchments; but in the same way that his old Republic Theta-class shuttle offered him reassuring memories of the past, so too did the familiar corridors of the old Ventor-class ship.

Perhaps it was his memory, or customisation at the hands of the Bothans, but things didn't seem quite the same; but his meticulous memory still held a comprehensive map of the warren of corridors that wove their way through the fabric of the ship, and so he navigated his way from hanger bay to his destination with relative ease.

His mind repeated the compartment number; his eyes compared it to the lettering stencilled - in both Bothan and Aurebesh - on the doors as he passed. He made a mental note of a few distinctive strings of symbols, wondering if he might perhaps learn to read Bothan by accident the more time he spend wandering the ship.

Such accidental education would have to wait, however. He came to a halt, poised on the threshold of the office he sought. He paused, considering his purpose in coming here. Ever since Ord Ithil, he had felt darkness lurking deep within him, and while he tried to keep it at bay - tried to prolonge it's slumber - events over the course of his time on the Wheel had caused it to stir. He had meditated; consulted what scant teachings the Wheel had; thought of Jedi from before the purge who had struggled with the same challenge; but nothing had provided him with the answer he sought: no one could tell him how to slay the beast.

If you cannot slay it, logic had whispered to him, as he delved into the depths of meditation, Then perhaps you can at least tame it; bend it to your will.

And so he was here, standing outside the office of Master Loklorien s'Ilancy: a master, he was told, of the dangerous and contravertial art of Vaapad. If anyone could teach him how to muzzle the dark beast inside him - or better yet, to turn it into a weapon he could use as a guardian of the light - it would, he hoped, be she.

He drew a breath, and pressed the chime.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was one of those strange moments that she found herself within. In the midst of reviewing the latest acquisition requests that had inundated her morning rituals, the Lupine found herself having to actually remove herself from the comfort of her chair. It was not something that she normally enjoyed.

And this latest request - did Incom even still keep those blueprints? Or for that matter, manufacture that particular part?!

In a fit of exasperated grunts and mutterings, s'Il was fast into the legion of books and technical specification order manuals that she'd amassed during her years - she might've detested flying in such confined quarters as presented by a starfighter, but they intrigued her never-the-less to a degree that she was able to turn that interest into a useful commodity.

Buried deep into the clutter that she'd created - crouched with a manuel perched on each knee and one held open in her left hand, that was where the chime to her door found her.

Without even looking up from her furious scouring, the Lupine Jedi called out into the air.

"Enter!"

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos wasn't entirely sure what he had been expecting to greet him when the durasteel hatch slid aside, but this most certainly was not it. To describe the office as chaos would have been unfair, but it definately lacked the air of order and organisation he would have perhaps hoped for, given the kind of enlightenment he was hoping to gain from s'Ilancy.

Still, assumptions and rash judgements were not something that the Jedi encouraged; and certainly not something that his Master would have been proud of. He allowed his Master's words to wash from his memory and over mind, the tranquil words in the remembered voice leaving behind a wake of serenity.

His thoughts collected, he turned his attention to the Jedi herself. Part of him wondered if the strange poise, books balanced on her limbs, was some kind of strange meditation designed to focus the mind; logic however suggested otherwise, and a slight hint of concern began to spark in Inyos' mind that perhaps an unannounced visit had been unwise.

"Master s'Ilancy," he said, his brow tugging into a slight frown. "My appologies for disturbing you; is this perhaps a bad time?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her reaction was instantaneous. The manual in her hand snapped shut, and the ones on her knees were unceremoniously dumped to the ground as she stood. She turned on her heel to look at her newest guest, and with a gesture she held the thin binder up, shaking it at him.

"Did you know that Incom doesn't even make triple-system redundancy port adapters anymore?"

It was said in a tone that begged the question of whether she had actually heard him.

A tsk, followed by a shake of her head, and the Lupine gave the manual another shake at him for good measure.

"Absurd."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos frowned slightly, giving her rhetorical question genuine consideration. It occurred to him that he wasn't entirely sure what a triple-system redundancy port adapter was, and while he could hazard a guess as to its function based on the name, he had no idea of any of the craft he had ever flown included one.

A moment of further consideration reminded him that the only Incom products that had been around when he'd been flying starfighters had been the Z-95 Headhunter and the ARC-170. He had never found himself with the opportunity to fly either, which struck him as absurd. For some reason, the Jedi Order displayed a strange brand loyalty to Kuat Systems Engineering, choosing to operate their various designs over the decades rather than making the logical leap to a starfighter with an integrated hyperdrive.

Briefly, Inyos recalled a time when he and Mandan had found themselves stranded, after droid fighters had destroyed Inyos' hyperdrive ring. Mandan had outright refused to leave Inyos behind: not even to fetch help and reinforcements. At the time, Inyos had berrated his fellow Jedi for his complete ignorance of logic. In hindsight however, it was further evidence of the unshakeable loyalty and frienship from Mandan that he had somehow earned: yet another reason to lament Mandan's passing.

Yet another reason why he needed to be here.

That thought dragged Inyos from his brief reverie, and back to the present. His mind pulled together disparate thoughts in order to construct some sort of response. "If memory serves," he stated, careful with his words lest they turn out to be incorrect, "Koensayr Manufacturing is still one of the premiere producers of starfighter components in the galaxy. You might consider checking their catalogue for comparable parts."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She stared at him for only a fraction of a second, and then the meaning behind his words clicked, and s'Il snapped the fingers of her unoccupied hand.

"You're right."

Wheeling about, she blindly stuffed the Incom binder (one of so very many) back onto a shelf that held a number of others - it was no matter where, just that it was shoved into the first available space she could see.

Koensayer...

It was always a bit of a hazarded guess when trying to divine the locations of her files - which themselves were meticulously ordered - it was just where she'd placed them that always remained uncertain.

Angling her head to the side, s'Il sent her gaze to another bookshelf that was very nearly overflowing.

Carefully she stepped over the two binders that had once upon a time been resting on her legs; before she'd stood up.

With a finger lightly grazing across spine after spine, she spoke once more.

"What can I do for you, Mr... ?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

"Aamoran," he responded, not entirely sure how to react to the Jedi's apparent distraction. Not what he had expected at all. "Inyos Aamoran."

His frown deepened as Master s'Ilancy's search continued, and he found himself also compelled to scan the various bookcases with his eyes, searching for familiar letter shapes. A mix of Aurebesh and High Galactic script graced the spines facing towards him: some angled; some inverted; some lying flat, and completely upside-down. One from the latter category caught his eye, fourth from the bottom of an uneven a pile that had been balanced precariously atop the case. He reached out with his mind, and wrapped the Force around the stack of files, gently lifting those above and drawing out the file in question, carrying it across the room to his outstretched hand.

He turned the file over on his fingers; confirmed that his ability to read was still intact. Taking a few careful steps towards the Lupine Jedi, he held the folder out towards her. "I have come seeking your counsel, Master s'Ilancy. And -" He hesitated, the frown on his features reaffirmed. "- also your teachings, if you would be willing to bestow them."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Now that gave her pause, and halting her search, s'Il blinked as she recollected her thoughts. This was not what she'd expected, and turning about to regard her visitor in a new light, she matched his frown with one of her own.

Reaching out, she slowly and smoothly took the catalog from his outstretched hand.

There was nothing to denote any amount of disapproval to the look she now gave him, in fact it was more of an intense curiosity mixed with a healthy amount of surprise and caution.

"That is," she looked down to the elusive binder she now held.

"... not what I expected."

A sudden breath, huffed through her nose, and she turned about to pick her way back to her desk.

"Counsel I can give; teaching, a possibility."

She gave a distracted wave of her hand.

"Have a seat Mr. Aamoran, please."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos took to the vaguely indicated seat with a slight bow of gratitude, pacing his movements carefully out of respect to ensure that Master s'Ilancy settled into her seat a moment or two before he settled into his. He regarded her with covert scrutiny; she was, he was told, one of the most formidable Jedi swordsmen among the rag tag survivors that inhabited the Wheel and yet, nothing about her manner hinted at such a thing.

But then, he mused, Neither did Master Yoda.

Even so, he had expected someone more akin to the stoic and silently intimidating manner of Master Windu; instead she reminded him more of Master Kenobi. Both where wise and respected Jedi Masters, and indeed both were formidable swordsmen; but when it came to learning to control the dark side, only one of the two had allowed their former Padawan to become a ruthless and murderous Dark Lord of the Sith. The comparison didn't exactly fill him with confidence.

The seed of doubt blooms into a flower of fear, the words of his Master echoed in his mind.

He pushed his concerns aside, burying them deep in a far corner of his mind, and collected his thoughts once again. "I am told that you are able to draw upon the dark side in combat: to mould it, shape it, and use it to to your advantage." He hesitated for a moment. "Is this true?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With the catalog set triumphantly before her, s'Il refrained from opening it.

Inyos Aamoran had certainly caught her by surprise, and as she leaned back in her seat to consider his words, the Lupine found herself steepling her fingers in thought. The tips of her index fingers met pursed lips as she stared at him, studying his features and the expression he wore as he spoke.

"What you are told is one thing," she started.

"What you perceive on your own is another."

There was an errant look sent to the elusive manual that he'd found for her, but it wasn't long before she returned her mismatched gaze to his.

"Wouldn't you agree?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

There was a glimmer of the kind of wisdom he'd expected: the way of phrasing the seemingly obvious in a manner that made it become profound and insightful; of drawing attention to facts so fundemental that most left them overlooked. It was a skill that had elluded Inyos despite his efforts, back when he'd been trying to impart such wisdom on his Padawan. He had hoped it was something that he would gain with time, with experience, and with age; but as yet it had failed to manifest. His insights were still merely insights.

Perhaps I should start by altering the order of my words, an errant thought muttered at him. It certainly seemed to work for Master Yoda.

He considered his words carefully as he replied. "Perceptions are so easily clouded and confused," he countered, candidly. "I prefer to deal in truths and absolutes, whenever it is possible to do so."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Truths and absolutes I have found are two entirely different things."

There was no derision in her tone, merely patience. And as she leaned forward, arms splaying out to begin the arduous task of ordering the myriad of hardcopies, datapads, and random flotsam scattered atop her desk, she went on.

"A truth can be realized by many different avenues and paths. Each one might vary from the other in some respect, but the end result will always be the same."

She pulled a piece of paper from beneath a pile of 'pads, scanning its' contents briefly before setting it to the side and returning her attentions to Inyos.

"An absolute however is rigid. It does not allow for room to grow and expand; to realize the potential that may lay beyond."

Looking amused with her last statement, s'Il quirked an eyebrow.

"Of course, one might consider that an absolute, so it is entirely dependent on interpretation."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Her argument echoed a discussion that Inyos had shared with Mandan, back when they were both still Padawans. Unlike Inyos, who adhered closely to rules, and order, and absolutes, Mandan was more of a liberal, and a free thinker. He had argued that the truth was not only relative; it was variable. He had argued about absolute truths, hidden truths, greater truths, false truths. Inyos insisted that the truth was what was correct, regardless of what people believed. Mandan insisted that the truth was what people believed, regardles of what was correct.

It was an argument that neither one of them had won, though with the benefit of age and hindsight, Inyos began to question his position, and some of the truths that he held to. The Jedi taught that fear led to anger, and that anger led to hate; and while that was true, from a certain point of view, from another it wasn't. After all, the purpose of the teaching was to discourage the Jedi from fear, and to point out the signs that marked the path to the dark side: if one realised their fear and turned away before succoming to anger, then the teaching had served it's purpose, but had made false it's message.

What you are told is one thing, s'Ilancy's words repeated in his mind. What you percieve on your own is another.

A slight glimmer of a smile tugged at his lips, but he kept it at bay; it wasn't hard, given the grave thoughts gathering on the horizon of his mind. "Perhaps then, I should be more plain with my words," he suggested. He paused, frowning once again, eyes focussing on the table before him. "There is a darkness inside me," he admitted, his words taking on a meek edge, "One I wish to control. It is my belief that the art of Vaapad is my greatest means towards that end."

His eyes rose, seeking out hers. The most pressing question tumbled from his lips: not one of truth, or fact, or can, but instead one of will. His frown softened. "Will you help me?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

This caused a moment's worth of hesitation on her part, and s'Il settled herself a bit deeper into her chair. Her focus on him now shifted from a partial to full.

"Vaapad is not a cure-all for those who have problems with dark thoughts."

But, she was not so callous as to simply turn him out from her office. He'd taken the time to seek her out, and from the look on his face s'Il could tell he genuinely meant well; meant to seek peace from whatever troubled him.

Letting a silence hang between them, she watched him before continuing, her voice now a bit more gentle and less curt.

"What makes you think that it will help you?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos drew a breath before he explained. The story had been recounted to a handful of people now, but never with such immediacy, nor with such necessary candour. And yet he knew, with all of Master s'Ilancy's speak of truths, that he could not afford to be reluctant, or deceptive, or restrained.

"A decade ago," he began, easing himself gradually into his tale of woe, "Myself and a Jedi named Mandan Hidatsa were in hiding from the purge. He was always more attuned to the Force than I; he recieved a vision, of a woman trapped. Believing her to be a Jedi in danger, we went to rescue her."

The she was not was left silent, and implied. His jaw clenched as his mind offered a scathing criticism of how foolish and naive they had both been to go at all. "The world we arrived on was so polluted by the dark side, it filled the skies as clouds; blotted out every trace of light; it also choked the engines of our ship, and prevented us from escape."

"In the darkness, the woman who had lured us there managed to divide us: she left me to wander the blackness and succome to my fears, while she prayed on Mandan's, and twisted him to the dark side."

His voice became coarse, as a throat swollen by grief began to constrict his words. "I found her, and found Mandan, but it was too late: she had poisoned his mind, and convinced him that killing me was the only way to be free of that wretched planet; the only way to return to the woman he loved."

A fist clenched. He battered down his emotions, fighting to keep them at bay; fighting to maintain his footing, and not slip further into anger and hate. "We fought; I won. Consumed by anger over what I had done, I killed her in revenge for having poisoned his mind. Then, I tried to kill his murderer, by hurling myself from the top of her tower."

He paused a beat. "I did not succeed."

The statement of the obvious was followed by a sigh; he slumped into the seat a little, as if an oppressive weight had suddenly been draped across his shoulders. "Until a year ago, I was trapped in that place. Over that time, I discovered the truth: a dark Jedi had corrupted the woman I killed; corrupted her; posessed her. Over time, he began to exhurt the same influence over me. And while his spirit was purged from my body; while I was rescued from that place -"

He trailed off, sorrow in his eyes as his gaze finally met hers again. "He left something behind. It is more than just dark thoughts. There is a demon inside me; and if I do not learn to control it, I am certain it will learn to control me." Shame slumped him even lower, and made his eyes fall away. "I am afraid, Master s'Ilancy."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His story was one of heartbreak and betrayal; it seemed to be a common thread that pulled the survivors of the Purge together.

s'Il bowed her head in thought, mulling over all that he had said, and the silence that she let hang in the air was palpable enough as to be cut with a knife. It was not uncomfortable, but it was very apparent.

It was a long few minutes before she finally spoke, and her voice remained low and soft.

"To be fearful of what you suspect may consume you is a natural thing; all of us at some point feel the same way."

She was brutally honest with him.

"Mr. Aamoran, my first instinct is to tell you no, but if I did that I would be no better than the Masters before us who decided for their students what was learned."

Her eyes went up then, to meet his.

"It is a dangerous thing you are asking of me however, and it is a decision I cannot make lightly. In teaching you what I know, it is very possible that your personal demons will use what you thought to be a tool to control them, as a doorway to your soul."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos tensed as she hinted towards refusal; he had not allowed himself to entertain the notion that his last, desperate hope might be quashed before he took even the first step down that path. That she chose not to indulge in that refusal came as a relief, but that was scant comfort in the face of her reluctance and reservation.

He allowed his mind to scrutinise himself; considered the poise he had slumped into, and the defeated air he must be projecting. No wonder she was reluctant to place faith in him: a Jedi she had only just met; whose abilities and capabilities were an unknown; and who had come to her office in order to endulge in defeatism and despair?

He squared his shoulders, and steeled his gaze, determination driving the other thoughts from his memory. The advice of Master Yoda, issued to him as a youngling - and to hundreds of others, before and since - resonated in his mind: Do, or do not. There is no try.

"My demons have no need for doorways," he stated, matter of fact. "They already dwell within."

He fixed his eyes on hers, his voice both analytical and determined. "If I do not succeed, then I will fall." A frow tugged his brow once more. "But if I do not act, I will most certainly do the same. I will not surrender to it; I will not allow it to take me, unresisted."

His jaw clenched. "I will fight this, Master s'Ilancy. All I ask is that you help me find the means to do so."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

He was determined, and it gave her some small amount of hope that he would succeed in what he set out to do.

Presently, she spoke once more.

"If I am to help you, I must know more of you. My time with the Wheel is always limited, and when I am here I am aboard Challenger most days.

"Which of course also begs the question... "

The Lupine bit her lip as she settled herself more comfortably, the leather of her chair squeaking in protest.

"... how did you know to come to me with your problem?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos scrubbed a musing hand across his jaw, finding it more beset with stubble than he was used to. Yet another strange effect of the forces at work on Ord Ithil: his body had remained almost unchanged for the duration; his hair in particular had not grown. After nearly ten years of neglect through lack of necessity, he had often found himself since his liberation suffering from neglect through lack of memory.

"If you spend so much time away from the Whaledon herself," he speculated, "Then no doubt you are unaware of how pervasive the network of Jedi gossip has become."

He paused for a moment, recalling the conversation between a group of Padawan that he had overheard only today, swapping ghost stories and other such speculative nonsense. The deck crews too were forever exchanging so-called facts and suppositions that had no basis in anything but opinion. While the Jedi Temple had been rife with stories shared between the trainees, most were at the very worst exaggerated accounts of missions they had heard of. Having spent so many years on the run, followed by so many in isolation, the concept of idle gossip had thus largely passed him by, and now he found himself amidst so much of it, he found that he did not approve.

Despite that, it had been such speculative gossip that had potentially provided him with the answer he sought; the irony was not lost on him.

"I heard about your encounter with Solomon," he stated, simply. "There was some speculation as to the lightsaber form you used; that put me on the path to seek answers, and eventually led me here."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Ah yes."

Her head dipped forward at that. It was unsurprising to find the reason for his search being that singular spar with Sol. It had generated more talk among the Jedi than she had thought.

"That."

A light smile and an almost dismissive wave of her hand.

"It was something that myself and Sol had not done in a very long time, and felt the desire to reacquaint ourselves with one another."

The look on her face changed to one of almost self-deprecating helplessness however, as her gaze swept along the cluttered state of her office.

"Unfortunately, these days such indulgences are becoming more hobby than anything else."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos shared her disappreciation with the various trappings of bureaucracy and politics, as did most of the Jedi from their era. He was struck by the amusing irony that Emperor Palpatine and his New Order had always claimed that the Jedi Order planned to seize power and take control of the Galactic Republic for themselves. Inyos doubted that any Jedi - not even the unshakeable Master Yoda - had the patience necessary to spend their days cloistered in an office, contending with paperwork and minutiae.

That train of thought led him to recall the other reason he had saught out Master s'Ilancy - the detail that had provided more weight to the rumours, and led him to pay a little more attention. To most Jedi during the Clone Wars, s'Ilancy had merely been known as Mace Windu's apprentice: one of the downsides to learning from such a prestigious and renowned mentor was becoming overshadowed, it seemed. And in truth, Inyos only recognised her name at all because of that association; but he at least had the decency - or perhaps merely the holographic memory necessary - to have remembered her name.

He spoke with a hint of reluctance, concerned that he might touch on as subject that would cause offense. "I also recall whom you were apprenticed to, Master s'Ilancy - another clue that added credibility to the rumours."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

This caused a moment of pause, and the Lupine blinked. Another moment later, and she gave a laugh.

"Core be blown," she chuckled.

Her eyes closed as she reached up to rub at her temples.

"At least you've memory enough to know my name."

What he spoke of took her back so many years, and she gave a smile as her fingers fell away. She gave a shake of her head at the thoughts his words had brought forth.

"I've not been called 'Mace Windu's Padawan' in so long that I'd completely forgotten how much I used to hate it."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos offered a faint smile; not faint through lack of sincerity, but rather as a result of having to battle through his mask of stoicism.

"Memory is not something I have ever been short of," he explained. "I used to frustrate the Jedi I worked with no end by constantly quoting passages of ancient teachings, or obscure aspects of the Jedi code. Someone once joked that they should tattoo an H to my forehead, to warn any innocent, unsuspecting souls of the holographic memory that lay within my skull."

The thought of friends, and of Masters and Padawans turned his mood somber for a moment, recalling just how many of the people he had once known had been undone by Order 66, Operation Knightfall, and the Jedi Purge. So many souls - not just great Jedi like Master Windu, but thousands more, from Masters to Younglings - had become one with the Force on that day; so many lights and lives extinguished, leading to the plunge into darkness that followed.

"Perhaps with the benefit of wisdom and hindsight," he offered, "The association has become more of an honour than a curse."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her attentions once more returned to the state of her desk, and s'Il let a wistful smile cut gently over her features as she began the task of organizing datapads and hardcopies.

"Perhaps. Of course to be quite honest, I would not mind one bit to be able to go back to those days."

Her tone was light-hearted.

"The older I get the more I realize that it wasn't such a bad thing to be in the position that I was all those years ago."

She gave him a wink while shuffling a few papers together.

"Not as much paperwork."

[Inyos Aamoran]

A flash of a faint smile tugged at the corner of Inyos' mouth. "Palpatine always claimed that the Jedi were planning to take over the Republic," he joked lightly, offering Loklorien a faint shrug. "He failed to take into account how ill equipped we are to contend with administration and bureaucracy."

His posture shifted slightly, expression shifting into a faint frown. "Might I be of assistance, he offered, caution about overstepping his bounds. "Ilias Nytrau once joked that if the Order ever fell, he planned to retire to some quiet Outer Rim world and set up a medical practice; and I was the perfect choice for what he called a 'secretary slash receptionist'."

His frown deepened a notch, marvelling at the irony of just how close his friend had actually come to carrying out that joking plan since the Purge.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Oh I don't know," s'Il moved her handful of hardcopies to a new pile.

"Jocasta Nu was quite the administrative demon - at least whenever I visited the Archives."

She smiled at his offer.

"As far as my own talents for organization, I suppose I just need some time to acquaint myself with things here. I'm not normally so... spread about."

The Lupine gave a small chuckle then, waving a dismissive hand at the shelves which held so many volumes of technical manuals and parts books.

"Of course, I suppose even a Jedi has the right to go on a tear."

[Inyos Aamoran]

It felt strange, conversing with Loklorien - different to how he'd spoken with other Jedi from the old Order, like Tionne and Ilias. Perhaps it was because he had confessed his story already, and didn't feel the burden of deceit resting on his shoulders. Or perhaps it was simply because she had not known him before, and thus she could not gauge how much he had changed.

A Jedi should not be preoccupied with such thoughts, he mused, admonishing himself. But then again, what kind of Jedi am I anymore?

Inyos let out a whistful sigh. "Ah, Master Jocasta." He shifted forward in his seat a little, his tone taking on a conspiratorial edge. "I hear her management policies towards Younglings were a direct inspiration for Palpatine's New Order."

He smiled at the memory of his various visits; he'd always been a regular presence in the Archives, filling his mind with knowledge, teachings, and scriptures, subconsciously hoping that through education and training he could compensate for the natural flair that he lacked, and that he envied Mandan for so greatly.

A question floated across his mind; rather than muse it for too long however, he simply asked. "I hope I am not prying too much, Master s'Ilancy; but from what I hear, you have been with the Rebellion for far longer than many of the other Jedi. What road led you to -" He gestured around at the office; the administration; the paperwork. "- this?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Following his gesture with her eyes, s'Il surveyed her very small kingdom with a sense of inner pride despite its' current state.

"Oh, it wasn't always like this."

She sighed as she leaned back in her seat, forgetting for the time being the clutter and letting her thoughts take her back to when things were far less organized.

"Used to be when the only quiet time to be had was tucked into a rest-whole you might be able to burrow for yourself inside a trench. Back then it really wasn't much of a Rebellion; more like a few pockets of folks that had decided to join together to fight against something they knew was wrong. It grew, as all things do, into the Alliance."

Her gaze had settled on to him as she spoke.

"In a round about way I miss those days, when you could fit all you owned into a small carrypack - which was a good thing since you never knew when you'd need to clear out.

"But this... where I am now... I somewhat fell into the task accidentally, and it grew on me. I always seemed to take care of the General's affairs back then, and now it is much the same, with the addition of a few more folks to cater to."

This she said with an easy smile, and it didn't take a Jedi to know that for her, this posting was a maternal extension of sorts for her. One that she took great pride and satisfaction in.

[Inyos Aamoran]

The idea that s'Ilancy had spent her years since the Purge actively defying Emperor Palpatine and his regime twisted Inyos' gut into a knot. By comparison, he had spent his years in flight, and hiding. True, they'd fought the system, finding what Jedi they could and helping them also flee from the Empire, and into safety. But they'd never fought back, and that notion filled him with regret.

The Jedi were not invincible, granted, but across the centuries the galaxy had seen how formidable the Jedi were, and what miraculous feats they could perform. The Jedi had turned the tide in countless wars; they were legends, adored by many, and at least respected by most. He had heard about how Luke Skywalker had made himself an icon of the Rebellion; and with s'Ilancy having actively fought the Empire herself as well, he began to wonder just how different history would be if more Jedi, like Inyos, Mandan, and the others they and Oa helped to save, had stood up against Palpatine and his regime.

We'd have made ourselves a target, the voice of doubt muttered grimly in his mind. And then the Inquisitors would have come, and killed us all - just like they did with Lúka.

The thought was oppressive, but he didn't allow it to find purchase in his mind. Instead he shrugged, and offered s'Ilancy a slight smile. "That is another way in which we apparently differ," he said, gesturing vaguely with a hand. "I still can fit all I own into a small carry pack." He hesitated, briefly. "Well, except for my shuttle, I suppose. It would have to be a rather sizeable carrypack in that case."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her easy smile still present on her lips, s'Il pushed her seat back with a slow motion while in the same movement leaning forward. Using her momentum to lift herself to her feet, she stood for a moment to smooth out the front of her tunic.

"I imagine that it would," she answered with amusement.

"Now come."

She skirted the desk, gesturing to the door.

"A walk is in order. I've been in here for too long, and... " a pause as she thought of how to phrase her next words.

"... my legs are due for the stretching, I believe the saying is."