Knights of the New Republic

Q'aleane Journal/Interlude Prequel

Q’aleane walks into her room and sits down on her bed. Muttering to no one, or perhaps the ship itself she muses, “Home sweet home.”

A brief look of reflection passes over her face but it is quickly put aside and she reaches over to her datacron and begins to record a journal entry.

“Well lets see…. today started, no that’*s probably not the best place to start… maybe start with yesterday’s ritual? No that’s no good.”

Staring at the datacron for a few minutes in contemplation, she finally abandons it, and sits down into a more meditative position. Instead of meditating however she catches herself tapping out numerical sequences with her fingers. Something was apparently consuming more of her thought than usual.

Deciding that perhaps a shower might help, she strips and makes her way towards the refresher. In the shower she allows herself to relax just a little and begins musing out loud to herself.

“Ok… where do we stand?”

“Major gathering at the praxium tomorrow afternoon. Experiment with the books in the morning. Neither of which thankfully I have to worry about right now.”

She absently continues as she turns off the shower and dries off and makes her way back to her room.

“So what do we have at our disposal? Well we have the clan mothers. It is amazing to consider just how little the Jedi regard these force users. Barukka was able to create solid matter out of the force. I have never even heard hint of any Jedi at any point in history being able to do that. They dismiss their views of the force as primitive, but in reality I think it is the jedi that have let themselves be locked into a far too simplistic view of the force.”

Laying back in her bed she continues to talk to the walls.

“So considering that, we have a group of force users that no doubt rival the Jedi Council in power. Which is good. If we could trust them.”

She makes a mental note to make sure to scan them for connections.

“But what does that really give us, and what do we know?”

Feeling fidgity, she stands and begins pacing in her small room.

“Well one, we know they have something that may or may not be a Shaman but seems to have at least some properties in common with it.”

She pauses and a look of confusion comes over her face.

“But why did they attack skybowl the way they did? And when we were pursuing them…”

As she goes over the days surrounding the attack on skybowl, her face grows more and more concerned.

“If they had a Shaman at that point, there would have been no reason for them to tip their hands. If they didn’t have a Shaman, why attack in force to try and steal a Jedi Master? Is there something else in play we haven’t seen?”

“Ok, lets look back… things started to get really bad shortly after they took Master Durach. As far as we can tell the only thing that they willingly let live was Master Durach and we could detect nothing they took. They had no reason to want the land, and no unusual reason to want to attack that tribe over say any of the others.”

“So it is not too far of a leap to conclude that they were after Master Durach.”

“Why, even if they had a large power, there is no reason to go out of your way to antagonize the Jedi and tip your hands to the clans… they would have known that the Jedi would respond and that the clans would realize that the nightsisters had awakened.”

“If they had a shaman at that point, they would have been better off sending their walking dead against the city and making their move right then.”

“Could that indicate the possibility that Master Durach willingly became the Shaman?”

She once again lies down staring at the ceiling for a time.

“No that doesn’t make sense… they would have had no reason to know he would make the deal and even if he did there was no guarantee he would side with them. Everything we learned so far makes it seem like the pact must be a willing one.”

“Something isn’t right.”

“What would anyone want with a Jedi Master… Sith would take one to convert or kill him. But this happened too quickly to convert him. Others might take him for his help, but they wouldn’t slaughter a whole village and kill his apprentice and expect him to help… they would have taken the apprentice as leverage.”

“Mandelorians and other warrior cultures would have rather challenged themselves against him.”

“Who else has fought Jedi…”

“…”

She sits staring at the ceiling for what seems a very long time.

“Spirit realm… of course.”

“There is that old story about some Sith Master or another being tied to Yavin 4 and centuries after he died, posessing one of Master Skywalker’s students. He wanted a Jedi as a body, as a way of interacting with the physical world and channeling the force. If it were something like that they would obviously want the most powerful vessel they could find… and being Jedi he is not as focused on the spirt realm as the strong force users here.”

“Ok…”

She leaps up and onto the floor and begins pacing.

“I am jumping to too many conclusions… lets just say that whatever it is somehow some power wanted Master Durach as a catalyst or vessel of some sort. That is safe to assume since their abilities seemed to magnify significantly after his acquisition and is supported by the fact that they sought to take him by force in the first place… not an easy task for no clear reward.”

“Lets assume for the sake of argument that they are using him somehow to act as a conduit through which they are channeling raw force…. something normally done by a Shaman and if I am right made safe by one of the spirit powers.”

“That could be a powerful force user who figured out a way like Barruka to channel the stuff, or maybe a force spirit that was a former shaman, or any number of things.”

“So basically Master Durach is the hole through which they draw this power.”

“Ouch… thats not good. I went unconscious after even sniffing this raw power. Barukka almost ceased existing….”

She stops mid stride.

“Fas!”

“That would mean its quite possible his spirit is already torn and shattered. And even if it weren’t we might need to block the conduit in order to stop whatever is doing this.”

“Ug, ok that puts Yevera in a bad position and makes her a possible complication to any plan that we come up with.”

She sits down on her bed, blinks stands back up and begins pacing again.

“Ok lets worry about that if my theory proves correct, right now its nothing more than conjecture.”

“But what do we know, how can we stop whatever it is.”

She stops staring out into the distance reviewing in her memory all her experiences to date with the spirit world and this energy.

“I am not sure we can… it… using even a small part of this energy almost killed barruka and her sisters. This thing is throwing it around like it were nothing, summoning armies of the dead, pulling down space freighters, destroying an orbital beacon from the ground… I don’t care how powerful we are, we are out-gunned.”

“There must be something we can do… maybe there is a way to block it…”

She sits down at her desk and starts going through the pages of the book she has been studying, focusing on the force lore sections, using them to jog her memory about what she read and understood just hours ago.

“There has to be something in here, they have stopped shaman before, so if this serves as the foundation of their theory of the force, there must be something in here that could be changed ore reenvisioned or drawn upon to give me some clue on how they did it.”

After flipping through several sections she appears to be getting increasingly fidgity…..

“This is no good.”

She stands up, and looks around the room… After a minute or so her eyes settle on the villip sitting in her closet….

“By the force! I can be stupid some times, I don’t need the holonet to talk outside this planet… I can call Master Shaper Rin and possibly talk to Master Vantai.”

Walking over to the villip she strokes the appropriate places and the villip seems to almost humm under her fingers. She waits there holding it for a few minutes…. She starts to look concerned. A few minutes later, her arms begin to ache and her face gets a look of frustration.

“Damn it, of all the times not to be able to get ahold of them….

She puts the villip down on her desk in sight and sits down. She pulls out the master holocron and looks like she is about to activate it when she pauses and sighs.

“No, I don’t think I could deal with Vegere playing the ultimate in devils advocate tonight.”

Setting it down next to the villip she tries to use her terminal to continue to look at the pages and ends up shifting half her desk onto the floor trying to make room.

“Damn it.”

In a huff she levitates the Villip, grabs her datacron and stalks out onto the bridge.

She places the villip down next to her on her meditation seat, keeping it near in case it starts to vibrate indicating that the Master Shaper was there. She then plugs in her datacron into the master terminal and pulls up the pages on her holo interface.

As she resumes her deliberations, she begins to try and reconcile more and more pages until she is surrounded by them and running out of room, she growls in apparent frustration before realizing there is no reason she needs to stay in just this small space.

Calling on the ship to extend the interface onto the bridge holoprojector she begins organizing pages into areas on the bridge, staring at them and walking between them, drawing lines connecting some and starts making notes on others.

Over time as her conscious and even subconscious minds delve deeper and deeper into the data, she begins shifting more and more activities like walking into her deep subconscious. As she does so her walking becomes stalking and she begins to take on the affect of a rancor. Lost in thought she absently begins doodling in the force… in a way she used to when trying to puzzle out a particular technique. Something that got her occasionally in trouble as it usually ended up being detected by some master or another who assumed that a large pool of undirected force energy was a sign of something very bad either happening or about to happen. On this ship however she didn’t have to fear trying to explain what she is doing to some nosy master or another who burst into her room.

After a while she started to project fragments of texts and notes she took while studying the force and connecting them…. after a while that wasn’t enough and she began writing new ones, drawing them in the air and having the ship trace her finger location to create a new note in mid air.

The more she looked, the more she focused. The more she focused the more she tried to find connections, any connection. Hunting through hundreds of pages of data she became more and more driven and still what she sought eluded her.

Were she in a normal mind, she would have realized that the reason it eluded her was she hadn’t really defined what she was looking for. Instead her mind wandered like a stream of consciousness from one force topic to another to another in search for /something/ she could use. After a while even force topics were not enough, she projected pages from her notes and the book on law, philosophy, diplomacy, etc…

By the time the elevator emerged on the bridge she was so deep into her mind and the data that she failed to notice it. When her sister fell down, it was somewhere in a world she couldn’t see and didn’t exist in. When her sister tried to calm her through their link, she didn’t hear the words, only felt a presence disturbing her hunt. In a flash she turned to her sister. The sight of her shock as she sat there on the ground outside the turbolift shocked her into her body bringing the house of cards down on top of her. As he sat down, and looked around the room, connections she could see just minutes ago were alien to her. She felt like she had been that close to understanding something profound and now it seemed eternally far away.

Stifling a sigh, she touched her thoughts and in what seemed to her mind as an eternity, but to the outside world but a moment, she let it all flow out into the lake in her mind and allowed herself to come back fully into the physical realm before talking to her sister.

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