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A Padawan's Journies - Astaron Islingr

MilaniGrey

By MilaniGrey
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MilaniGrey

MilaniGrey

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So.. this is an RP journal entry I wrote for my Sentinel. I was quite pleased with it, so I thought I might post it here.. :3 (I also just noticed I spelled "Journeys" wrong, sorry.)

 

These journal entries also feature minor Jedi Knight spoilers and planet-arc spoilers, though I'll try to keep the details as vague and summarized as possible, so I don't ruin the story for anyone.

 

 

clicks the data-recorder on

 

Master Zlana has tasked me with finding a special place. A place where I can meditate. A place where I feel the Force the most. It's not easy.

I tried searching on Tython, but no matter where I went, my sense stayed quiet. Coruscant was the same way. When I arrived on Taris, I was assaulted with the feeling of despair and anguish. Death was every where. It is not a happy place. I sat for a long time in a corner of the Reclamation Camp and meditated, exploring the planet with the Force, searching for a spot of positive energy. All I found was darkness. A thick, stifling darkness.

 

I am ashamed of myself. I wasn't as prepared against an attack from a Sith as I should have been. My mind was too pre-occupied with the atmosphere of despair that permeates from everything and everyone. I should have been ready when that Sith walked through the camp, two Jurgans manipulated and corrupted into violence trailing behind her. She told me I was going to die, and then she stepped back, willing her beasts forward to kill me.

 

a brief pause. the hiss of an injector can be heard, followed by a soft, relieved sigh.

 

I managed to kill the beasts and engage the Sith. She was the easier fight, by far. She didn't have the saber skills necessary to keep up with me. It wasn't until I was sprinting back into the main base that I noticed the three jagged gashes on my right leg, running from my hip bone to just above my knee. Master Zlana had to come and trim away the flesh that was already starting to get infected and rot. Something was on the claws of those beasts, but I don't know what. I've changed the wrapping since last night, and it doesn't look much better. I don't know what's going to happen. If I have to lose my leg.. I don't- he stops, catching his breath, momentarily overcome by emotion. he recovers quickly, and resumes speaking. I don't want to lose my leg.

 

I am nothing if I can't be a Jedi. Padawan Astaron signing off.

 

the data-recorder beeps, and powers down

 

 

Edit: I figured I'd show you guys what Astaron looks like, hood on, and hood off. :3

 

http://i.imgur.com/0N2ey.jpghttp://i.imgur.com/iGNcx.jpg

 

Edited by MilaniGrey
Journeys is spelled wrong..
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MilaniGrey

MilaniGrey

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Thank you! That means a lot to me coming from you, since you're one of my favorite fanfic authors on these forums so far. :3

 

Here's installment #2! Enjoy. :3

 

 

clicks the data-recorder on

 

It's been two and a half days since I left Taris. That horrible, dead, stifling world. I left it in better shape than I found it, but I fear it won't last long. My leg still pains me greatly, and every time I examine and clean the wound when I change the wrapping, I fear more and more that I will lose it, if something is not done soon.

 

After Taris, I was tasked to Nar Shaddaa, and I went there hoping to find that special place, but it was a misplaced hope. There is no corner or crevice on that moon that is not occupied by a pile of refuse or a ryll addict, passed out and drooling. My assignment on Nar Shaddaa was simple enough - find and shut down the stolen "Power Guard Project." The Sith Lord that had control of it enhanced himself. Made himself bigger, stronger, and smarter. Fortunately for me it did nothing for his speed, and I was able to batter him down slowly into defeat.

 

After the Sith was defeated and the "Power Guard Project" files destroyed, I was told to head to Tatooine.

 

Tatooine. he pauses, letting out an exasperated sigh. A barren desert planet so hot that it might as well be on fire. I worry what the sand will do to the wound on my leg. The sand on that planet is notorious for getting into places and staying there for a long time.

 

Maybe Tatooine will hold that special place. Maybe it won't, and the Force will continue it's long silence.

 

Padawan Astaron signing off.

 

the data-recorder beeps, and powers down.

 

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MilaniGrey

MilaniGrey

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Really like this, MilaniGrey. Sorry my work schedule prevented me from commenting earlier, but I use my phone to catch up on my reading there during breaks :)

 

Please, keep updating!

 

I just finished writing entry 3. It's coming soon! :)

Edit: Here we go!

 

Entry #3

 

the data-recorder powers up and begins recording. the sound of medium armored robes hitting the floor can be heard. for a moment, all rustling and thudding noises stop, and all that can be heard is the sudden, sharp intake of breath as Astaron removes the kolto wrapping from his leg. The noise stops again, and then a sigh is heard, followed by the sound of a heavy limp. the data-recorder beeps, and powers down.

. . .

. . .

the data-recorder powers back up and resumes recording

 

Sorry about that. The damn recorder turned itself on. I've decided to stay on my ship during my assignment here on Tatooine. It's not as sandy here. he chuckles a little. So far Tatooine has given me little trouble, except that Sith seem to love picking fights with me. This one particular Sith Lord, uh, Praven, I think. He actually wanted honorable combat. If I won, I got the deactivation codes I needed, and if he won, well..

 

Anyway, I tried to avoid violence by using Force Persuade. He gave me the codes, but didn't believe I was just trying to avoid fighting. We fought, and I was victorious. But what was really cool... I convinced him to turn to the Light. He contacted me a few hours ago. The Council accepted him with open arms.

 

he sighs, his happy mood gone as quickly as it had come.

 

I might die soon. The mysterious poison in my wound was Quell toxin. A concentrated dose. I'm lucky I'm not already dead. There may be hope, though. A friend of mine, who's in the same branch of the Order as I am... She's an experienced Biochemist. She might be able to at least synthesize a temporary anti-toxin.

 

Time will tell.

Padawan Astaron signing off.

the data-recorder beeps, and powers down.

 

Edited by MilaniGrey
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MilaniGrey

MilaniGrey

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Entry #4

 

 

the data-recorder clicks on. his voice is shaky, and sounds weaker than it's usual smooth tenor.

 

I landed on Alderaan last night. My home planet. It's barely been a month since I fled my home and made my way to Tython... I hardly made it out of they hangar before cries of "Master Jedi!" filled my ears. I keep having to fight the urge to correct them. I'm only a Padawan.

 

he starts coughing, and leans away from the data-recorder.

 

S-sorry about that. Anyway, as soon as I was out of the hangar, people were asking me to do all sorts of things for them. "Clear the valley of explosives, kill this field commander, steal back our guns, feed my pet thranta.."

 

I did what I could, but I eventually dropped. I feel the Quell toxin leeching the strength from my body. I grow weaker by the day. At least I was able to complete Master Zlana's assignment, about finding somewhere I feel most in tune with the Force. Ironic that it's my home planet...

 

he doubles over in another coughing fit.

 

Maybe I'll come here to die.

 

the data-recorder beeps, and powers down.

 

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bright_ephemera

bright_ephemera

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Entry #4

 

 

 

S-sorry about that. Anyway, as soon as I was out of the hangar, people were asking me to do all sorts of things for them. "Clear the valley of explosives, kill this field commander, steal back our guns, feed my pet thranta.."

 

 

 

I am late in reading, but I must say that in the midst of all the trouble I giggled at the image of an Alderaanian petitioning a young "Master Jedi" to feed her pet thranta. :rolleyes: So true...

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