Chapter Text
<Access Granted>
<Load Files: Personal Audiorecordings of Jedi Knight Sennah>
<Reason: Submission for investigation into Jedi Knight Sennah's disappearance>
<Entry 1:><begin playback>
Master Jeris, she's a “recovery counselor” of sorts, has suggested I start a journal. She says that many beings find it helpful to write or speak about their experiences as they work through and move beyond their emotions after a traumatic event. She assumes it will help me, too. Though (like everyone else has said my whole life) "we don't have much data on Ryn".
She said to just speak as if I’m speaking to a new friend, and endeavor to speak the truth.
It has been three standard weeks... Three weeks since a battalion of Separatist droids marched through our medical bunker... And killed my Master, Ets’son Attana.
Physically, I’m on the mend: the fur is starting to grow back where I was burned and lacerated and abraded when the bunker collapsed on top of me and the wounded clones. I’m barely limping any more on the leg that was broken.
Mentally… emotionally…? I don’t know.
Hence my visits to Master Jeris.
I know I should let go, “a Jedi should have no attachments”, “should not mourn for those who have become one with the Force”, and other such advice and training I have been given. I don't think it's losing my Master that’s the problem, I’ve lost dear friends before.
It’s the nightmares that still come almost every night.
Any small thing can trigger them, a sound, a smell, and I’m back there. Using every ounce of my training to remain calm as I run a dermal regenerator across a Clone trooper's abdomen, trying to keep his insides in. While hundreds more behind me are being triaged and prepped for surgery or declared hopeless by a mixture of Clone medics, medical droids, and locals who volunteered to help.
You know, there are those, usually non-Jedi, who don't think of Clone troopers as “real people”. But let me assure you, they are just as unique and living entities as any other sentient being. It feels just as horrible to feel their agony and song ending ripple through the Living Force as anyone else... and they were dying by the hundreds all around us.
I couldn't just shut it out, close myself off from feeling them dying all around me. I needed my connection to the Force to assess my patients, had to call upon it deeply to feel out and treat some of the injuries I knew I wouldn't easily reach surgically.
I wasn't prepared for it, how could anyone be? Especially a Jedi? We are not soldiers, or battle-hardened mercenaries. We're trained to fight only if necessary, to defend or protect ourselves or others.
We should not be the ones leading these Troops into battle, despite how good some Jedi are at it. For every Master Windu, Master Obi-Wan, or Knight Skywalker, there are a dozen like me, who leave the battlefield scarred in more ways than one.
Or who do not leave the battlefield at all, like my Master.
Maybe if I had paid better attention, worked harder in Master Drallig’s classes, I would have reacted sooner, been able to stop the droids before they shot Master Attana. Been able to deflect their blaster bolts back at them like almost any other Jedi can do. But I was too slow, my lightsaber was too far out of reach. I had set it aside while changing into my sterisuit for surgery.
I have never been good with mechanical things. Non-living materials might as well not exist as far as I can tell through the Force, they don't sing like living things do. I was barely able to build my own lightsaber. I was never able to assemble my lightsaber like Jedi are supposed to, Force-lifting the pieces into their perfect places. Telekinesis is one of the most basic skills for the average Jedi, I can barely make something wobble, even now, after 20 years of Jedi training.
Hmh. Now I'm remembering Master Qui-Gon, reassuring me when I felt like a complete failure for not being able to do some things the other younglings could: “Your talents lie elsewhere, Little One, no Jedi is good at everything.”
I wish he was here. He was the one who discovered me, and my very first mentor. Tomorrow the Council will make me a Knight, and I don't have him or my Master here to see it.
It was determined that surviving the battle three weeks ago was my Trial, and I have proved my worth as a Jedi (despite my failure to keep my Master alive). Several Clone medics reported my lifesaving actions throughout the day as “heroic” and me a “valued asset to the Republic forces”.
I don't know if I deserve it. Part of me is convinced the Council just doesn't want to have to find a master willing to take on a nearly 25 year old Padawan, especially with the War going on. The other part of me speaks in Master Yoda's voice and says “If deserve something you think you do; deserve it you do not”.
Time to start getting ready, I guess.
<end of entry>
<Entry 2:><Begin Playback>
Growing up, you look forward to the day you will be a Jedi Knight. It's when you can sort of relax, not have to be so worried about what your Master is trying to teach you. What your great Trial is going to be. You imagine you will have more freedom to decide for yourself what you want to do each day.
I find that I’m following the same schedule Master Attana set up for me. It is comfortable, familiar. It means I don't have to think, to worry about what I need to do next.
My Knighting ceremony was... bittersweet. I had wondered the past few days who would be taking the place of my Master in the ceremony. The Council said they would choose someone.
Master Obi-Wan was the one who appeared outside my door. It was definitely a surprise to see him, I had heard he was still on Mandalore, trying to stop a civil war.
I started to ask him how it had gone, but he stopped me with a small smile and a raised hand and said: “Another time, Padawan, you are supposed to be in quiet contemplation.”
It was a good excuse, but I could tell it was because he didn't want to talk about his mission.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Padawan himself when we first met, he and Master Qui-Gon were the ones who found me and brought me to the temple when I was a toddler. I haven't been as close to him as I was to Qui-Gon when he was alive, but he has been a friend and mentor too over the years. When he wasn't too busy worrying about his Padawan, Anakin. The fact that Anakin passed his Trial two years ago and is no longer technically his responsibility hasn't lessened Obi-Wan's worry about him, though.
As we walked down the hall, I began listening to the Force. I tried stay focused on my own melody, its place in the Living Force's great symphony. The harmony of my lightsaber’s kyber crystal. The song of the future I was heading towards…
But there was something wrong with Master Obi-Wan. He was trying to focus on the task at hand, too, but his thoughts started to wash over me. It happens sometimes when people around me are feeling strong emotions and having trouble controlling them. Obi-Wan’s were starting to be too powerful to ignore.
I put my hand on his arm and stopped walking, he stopped too. I asked if he was ok. He tried to make some excuse, but I felt the dissonant song of a lie in his voice. He was fighting hard to contain his emotion. Suddenly I saw a vision of a woman, she was dying in Master Obi-Wan's arms.
Before I could stop myself, I asked who the woman was. Then I realized that I’d intruded on his thoughts, and apologized.
He takes this deep breath and puts his hand over mine, says it was alright. He muttered something about how he'd forgotten how very perceptive I was.
He explained that the woman was the Dutchess of Mandalore, and a longtime friend. Two days ago she had been assassinated in front of him, by the same Sith who killed Master Qui-Gon.
“But killing that Sith was your Trial, wasn't it?” I asked. It reminds me now that failing to protect your Master does not mean your Trial was a failure. Obi-Wan lost his master during his Trial too. I remember blaming him for not defending Master Qui-Gon, but I was 12 years old, angry, and afraid I’d never find another Jedi willing to take me as a Padawan.
He said it was, indeed, the same Sith. Somehow he survived. “He has resurfaced and has been causing chaos and repeatedly slipping out of my grasp.” Obi-Wan's hand clenched into a fist, I felt his anger and frustration flare for a moment. He clamped down on them, forcing himself back to appropriate Jedi Master calm. There is no emotion, there is peace.
He gestured down the hall, and we continued walking again. I couldn't stop thinking about the feelings I had caught, how the brief bit of the woman’s song in the Force fit so well with Obi-Wan's. She was more than just a friend to him. I think he would have abandoned the Jedi Order for her if she had asked him to.
Instead of spending the day in the meditation room contemplating my future as a Jedi Knight as I was supposed to, I spent most of the day thinking about how much turmoil and pain is caused by losing someone you care about. I understand why the Jedi are forbidden from having those sort of relationships.
But even a Jedi cannot stop themselves from feeling, the Force can't speak to an emotionless rock. Doesn't it cause just as much emotional turmoil to love someone but not be able to be with them?
I wondered what the Jedi would be like if we were allowed to love romantically. Certainly a bit more difficult for the Council to control, and less of a guarantee of neutrality in diplomacy… but wouldn't there be more happiness too? And what about children? There are theories about Force sensitivity being hereditary. Wouldn't that be a good thing? Making more Jedi ourselves instead of having to search the Galaxy to find them? (Not that I'D be able to contribute to an effort like that, I don't know if the nearest male of my species is even in the Core Territories).
Not that we have time to do much youngling searching right now, in the middle of a war. We're neglecting that sacred responsibility to the Force in order to lead troops into battle. If anything in the Galaxy is in need of restoring to a balance, it's us, the Jedi.
Anyway… My ceremony was brief, simple, like most Jedi ceremonies. Master Yoda said the ancient introduction, cut off my Padawan braid, “By the right of the Council, by the Will of the Force, rise, Jedi Knight”.
I still don't think I’m worthy, but I will do my best to be what the Force needs me to be, I’m just not sure what that is, any more.
<end of entry>
<Entry 3:><begin playback>
There was an explosion in one of the Temple hangars today. I was on duty, I helped treat the wounded as they were dragged out of the rubble and brought to the medical wing. Treated about twenty civilian maintenance workers with second and third degree burns and shrapnel wounds. There were a couple beings that we just didn't get to in time, and a lot that were caught in the explosion and died instantly.
The loss of life within the Temple walls hurts bad enough, but there are rumors that it was a deliberate attack... and a Jedi was responsible.
What could lead a Jedi to do such a thing? I know there are Jedi like me who don't agree with our part in this war. But to do something so violent, to inflict such an injury on our home, on our Order, and those who work here with us?
I don't know, maybe not every Jedi has forged the same relationship with the Temple as I have, doesn't feel an attack like this as keenly. Nearly every Jedi in the Galaxy has been living here for some part of their lives. Most since being brought to the Temple as a baby or toddler.
Besides Skywalker, that is, he was much older. I remember when Master Qui-Gon brought him to the temple. It is difficult to forget, it was the last time I saw Master Qui-Gon alive. I was twelve years old, still struggling to complete my lightsaber. Still holding out hope that Padawan Obi-Wan would become a Knight soon and Master Qui-Gon would take me as his next Padawan. I didn't think anyone besides him would take a Padawan who was struggling like I was.
Anakin has always been the special exception, to almost everything. He remembers his birth family. He even went to visit them once. I'm not supposed to know about that, but I saw it in his mind once on accident (It just kind of happens, like the other day with Master Obi-Wan). I saw an old man, a young man and woman, and another young woman. She felt familiar, someone I've seen here on Coruscant. Senator Amidala, I think? Master Obi-Wan and Knight Skywalker are friends of hers, she's a good friend of the Jedi in the Senate. There was also another woman in the memory, I think she is Anakin's mother. She was badly hurt. It got really… dark after that, but he shut down on that memory really quick.
I don't remember much about my birth family beyond snippets of their Force melody, their “presence” most other Jedi call it.
Most of my fellow Jedi get confused when I use music terminology to refer to the Force, but that's how I perceive it. A vast symphony with every living thing playing a part, each with its own little song. It's part of my problem with manipulating non-living things, I think, they don't sing like living things do. It's really hard for me to hear them in the Force.
I was told bits about my birth family by Master Qui-Gon. I was rescued from a slave raid by Master Qui-Gon and then-Padawan Obi-Wan. The rest of my clan was not so lucky as I was. Master Qui-Gon said they gave their lives and freedom so that I could escape and be trained as a Jedi.
I strive to be worthy of my clan’s sacrifice, to live up to their belief that I had a greater purpose to serve in the Galaxy. But I wonder sometimes what their lives have been like. How many died that day? How many have died since? How many are still slaves?
When I was nine or ten years old, I was obsessed for a while with trying to find my people. I scoured the holonet, and didn’t find much, but was shocked at what I did find. My species are spoken of mostly in myth or fairy tales, and are usually “bad guys”. Stealing away children in the night, robbing people of their treasures, being itinerant thieves and rogues. It saddened me.
Master Qui-Gon found me that afternoon, like he usually somehow would when I was upset. He took me for a walk in the Temple gardens. He re-explained why the Jedi try to find Force-sensitive children before they're too old. Why we're discouraged from knowing too much about our birth families. Things like prejudices, and attachments to our former lives, can distract us from our training. It can affect our ability to care for and serve all beings without reservation.
There is no prejudice towards species in the Temple. I grew up knowing I was unique, there aren't any other Ryn here, and I haven’t found any Ryn Jedi in the archives. Most of my fellow Jedi over the years didn't recognize my species, and most didn't care beyond a curiosity. Or a desire to expand some entry in the archives (I’ve had my body thoroughly scanned about once a year by the archivists for the Temple medical and biological archives).
I still sometimes have dreams of that night I was rescued. It is hazy, but there is darkness, noise, and fear. It is a song of sadness from my Ryn family, but with notes of hope for my future. It begins in chaos and ends with gentle words of comfort in that deep melodic voice I still miss hearing. It has been over ten years now since Master Qui-Gon was killed.
I think I need to get out of the Temple for a little while, there is too much suspicion and fear in the air right now. The discord is almost overwhelming. I am having trouble blocking out the dissonance.
<end of entry>
<Entry 4><begin playback>
I don't know where to begin, but I will try to follow Master Attana’s advice and start from the beginning and be methodical and honest.
When I was a youngling, researching my species, there were some days I felt so alone. Being the only Ryn in the temple, possibly the only Ryn in all the Core Worlds. And not finding very much in the archives to learn besides the folklore that placed my people in the Outer Rim. On the worst of those lonely days, Master Qui-Gon would randomly appear and give me a word of encouragement. Or sometimes, after checking with my caretakers, even take me out of the Temple to some place to learn something new.
One of those places was Dex's Diner, an eatery in the CoCo District. I went there a few times with Master Qui-Gon, sometimes Obi-Wan came too. Dex, the Besalisk cook and proprietor, would tell stories about things he'd seen and beings he'd met over his years out in the Galaxy. He has one of the most oddly complex melodies I’ve ever felt, even to this day. So many diverse things have influenced him through his life. I learned a lot about the beings of the Galaxy really lived, and how many of them were far from their original homes too, but had found new homes and new families to be part of.
Nostalgia is not encouraged among the Jedi, but today, I didn't care. I wanted to go somewhere from a happy memory. So when my shift at the temple’s medical wing was over (and my head and heart were ringing from the emotional turmoil, the patients were being interviewed about the hangar explosion), I took advantage of my new freedom as a full Jedi Knight and left the Temple.
I ended up at Dex’s.
Dex remembered me.
He called out to me from the kitchen as I climbed up onto a stool at the bar: “Well, ain't that something outta ancient history,” he says. “How are ya, Little One? That's what Master Qui-Gon used ta call ya, didn't he?”
I gave his droid waitress my order, and when the dinner rush slowed down a bit, Dex came out to see me. I expressed my wonder that he remembered me. He laughed and told me he remembers everything he's ever seen and heard, “and a Ryn Jedi, that's something extra memorable, rarer than rare.” Then he says he even thought about me a few weeks ago, after seeing some Ryn there in his diner.
I almost choked on my Jawa Juice. When I could talk again, I asked him for details, he said he didn't have much beyond a brief description of their coloration and clothing.
I begged him to help me find those Ryn. He “hmm'ed” and replied that information and the time tracking it down is a valuable commodity, and asked what I had in exchange.
I offered information about the bombing, it was all I’d been hearing his other customers talk about. He grinned, I could tell it was what he was hoping I’d offer.
I told him what I knew about the investigation, that Knight Skywalker and his Padawan Ahsoka Tano had been assigned to lead it. They'd come in to talk to the injured in the medical wing that afternoon while I was on duty. They had some sort of lead, and as I was leaving the Temple I heard someone saying an arrest had been made. That was all I knew.
Dex said he would see what he could find out for me about the Ryn. I gave him my personal comlink frequency, he gave me a wink and a take-out box with the dessert I had often ordered so long ago.
I… don't know what I’m going to do if he can find them. I’ve spent so many years resigned to being the oddity, have even found some measure of peace about it. Have I done the right thing seeking them out?
<end of entry>
<Entry 5:><begin playback>
Something has happened, the rumors are all over, all I know for sure is that the major suspect in the bombing is dead, and Padawan Tano was blamed. She ran, I don't know what that says about her guilt or innocence, but there are Jedi and Clone Troops scouring the city for her.
I don't know Padawan Tano personally, she's almost 10 years younger than me. I just know of her from holonews about the battles she and Anakin have been in. It doesn't seem like her, to be the one responsible for the bombing, she seems so dedicated to the Order, and doing her part leading Clone Troops. I don't know what to think...
It's been a harrowing couple of days. The investigation into the bombing has had protesters at the front gates of the Temple, calling for the Jedi to get out of the war. Saying that the bombing will be just the beginning, if we don't step out.
I sometimes find myself agreeing with them. Keeping the peace is different from fighting a war, isn't it? Maybe I just don't like it because I’m a healer, not a fighter.
*sigh*
I haven't heard from Dex, I’m still not sure what I will do if he does find something for me.
There are good reasons why we are strongly discouraged from investigating our lives before the Temple. Many point to former Jedi Master Dooku as a perfect example. He was too connected to his birth family, when he left the Order he took up his hereditary title of Count, and now he's thrown the galaxy into chaos with the Separatists. He's part of the reason Jedi like my master are getting killed, not to mention all the civilians and random innocents on hundreds of worlds.
It's hard to believe he was Master Qui-Gon's master.
I sometimes wonder what Master Qui-Gon would have thought about this war. Would he have joined the conscientious objectors who surrendered their lightsabers in order to remain out of the war? He was not against fighting if he needed to, but would he have considered this a worthwhile cause?
I sometimes think I hear him, you know, in the Force, when I’m meditating. I hear echoes of his song: bold, defiant, unorthodox, but yet still harmonious.
I asked Master Attana about it once. She explained that a person's presence in the Force, if strong enough, can leave behind an impression that those who are sensitive enough can perceive.
I’ve felt those echoed songs before, when handling an artifact from the archives, or accessing a particularly strong holocron.
Master Qui-Gon’s echo is different, no less faint, but deeper somehow. Maybe it's because I knew him, I felt his presence myself while he was alive. I don't know. I certainly haven't felt Master Attana’s presence since she died, other than those same faint echoes on items I have that belonged to her, and even those are starting to fade.
I should probably get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
<End of Entry>