DYNASTY ( sw.. ) ✔

o3. arena of hope..

Tepkasi, the Twi'lek female that owned the tavern cooperated and answered just fine to the questions of her two odd clients, especially since they played fairly and didn't lose her small party game. Once they wrapped the conversation up and she seed them through the back exit of the tavern, Tepkasi leant against the doorframe and asked one question of her own that has been bother her for a while.

"Who are you two?"

The night that has just settled over the town gave a ghost like air to the cold question. The Twi'lek was eying them like exhibits that she simply passed by.

"You most likely are not just tourists like you claimed at first. And you came here asking all these questions about the Masters of the town... You will cause trouble for sure. So who are you?"

Lorna felt a sudden thrill, knowing that for the first time she won't be introducing herself as just Lorna, but as Lorna, a Jedi in training. And that thrill echoed through excitement and it lit up her green eyes like the stars that painted the sky above.

She was just about to answer herself, when Luke interfered, prompter than she'd ever be. "We were sent by General Organa. We will try to help the town against the Masters."

The Twi'lek immediately grimaced and almost glared them down. "So you're here to cause trouble," she sneered at them. Tepkasi finally turned around, re-entering her tavern and smashing the door behind her.

"Luke!" Lorna quickly punched his arm.

After grabbing the place where she lightly punched him, Luke stared down at her, confused. "Lorna?"

"What was that about? Why didn't you tell her that you're a Jedi?" Though she asked with pathos, her voice was hushed. Lorna knew better than to trust a dark empty street, even though now, she had enough training behind her to think she might stand a chance in a fight.

Luke seemed amused by her statement. He hid his smile by shaking his head and rubbing the place of the hit, "Jedi are relinquished by vanity."

"Alright, that sounds very noble, sure," she quickly dismissed the statement she has read before in old books. "But that was written ages ago, when you know... there was more than one Jedi and a single one in training!"

Finally, Luke frowned down at Lorna. "We cannot forsaken our way so easily," he recited, though as the words came out, his mind reminded him in guilt of how it felt to kiss her. He passed the blame onto the alcohol he indulged and looked away.

Lorna did not back down though and before Luke could start walking, she grabbed his hand. She felt his leather glove underneath her touch and she gripped firmer. "We are not forsaking anything, Luke. But how are we supposed to find more people for the Temple, if they don't know Jedi are still around? It took you years to find me and even that was just luck."

Though Luke seemed uncertain of her words, Lorna insisted and even stepped in front of him to be able to look him in the eyes as she continued. "Believe it or not, I have seen before what people think of the Jedi. For all they care and know, the galaxy was saved by rebels, by lucky pilots, not by a Jedi Master. If we hope to rebuilt this community you keep listing the rules of, we need to start putting ourselves out there again."

"Alright," Luke sighed. There was no arguing with Lorna, even though he was supposed to be the one in command between the two of them. It did not help that this once, what she said, made a lot of sense too.

Luke learnt, harder than anyone else, that the Jedi legacy was dying like a fire running out of wood to consume. Several times in his travels has he encountered people defiling the names of Jedi and their temples. It wounded him that what they seemed to be remembered for was nothing but a good memory, fading to a nightmare.