[font=Georgia][OOC: Open to any Jedi heading to or already on Ilum.][/font]
[font=Georgia]Genon[/font]

[font=Georgia]Shadows...dust. That's really what they all were in the end, more or less. There was no point hiding from it, and nowhere to go to escape it. It was something that would follow you until you either gave up and accepted it...or it kiled you. There was nothing that could be done about it other than that.[/font]

[font=Georgia]At the same time, these shadows and this dust were of a substance that wasn't constant. They could be modified, changed; they could become something far greater--or far worse--than what they'd originally been. Here, then, was the great challenge. One had to be able to rise above the onslaught of life's trials to become something great in it. The walls placed down by sentient society to protect it from life's dangers had to be transcended, and the dangers themselves faced.[/font]

[font=Georgia]But what could one do about dangers that came from beyond? They were abnormal, unexpected, and unpredictable. The beast that he had faced on Vortex had been one such danger: something from another realm, projected through another person's mind. It had been strange to look at it, to acknowledge that it even existed; it had been even worse when the thing reawakened inside his thoughts, making him realize that he'd failed in keeping the darkness out. It had infected him like some sort of virus...[/font]

[font=Georgia]...and it didn't look like it would come out.[/font]

[font=Georgia]So why am I up here? Why do I try to hide from it? the major thought to himself, not even sure he wanted to hear of an answer even so much as existing for his query. The mountain he'd ascended earlier in the day had afforded him one thing: an escape from civilization for a few hours, at most. There were people who'd probably come up and take him back down to the base after a while, maybe even by just flying up and snaring him in, but he was alone for the moment.[/font]

[font=Georgia]The entire ride back from Vortex had been a silent Hell. The ascent into space had been quiet; the preparations for the jump to lightspeed had been quiet; and the reversion had been quiet. The entire trip through hyperspace had been quiet, too, save for one single incident. He couldn't--no, wouldn't--recall what had gone on; his own actions were enough that his conscience was screaming to no avail for some sort of punishment. He was half-expecting Angela to have a long list of harsh words ready for him, when she was finally able to speak again...whenever that was. And the worst part for him to contemplate: no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find the strength to do the right thing...to apologize.[/font]

[font=Georgia]What have I become? Do I even want to know?[/font]

[font=Georgia]Shaking his head silently, Lance tried to get his thoughts focused back on whatever it was he had been dealing with earlier, averting his eyes from the base down below. He'd need all of his attention focused on the beast and its nature in order to understand it...and he needed to be able to understand it soon, what with one somehow being inside his mind and all.[/font]

[font=Georgia]Genon[/font][font=Georgia]

It took Lance hours to build up the nerve to descend the mountain again, the dark thoughts still running rampant inside him even then. Everything that he thought about was somehow twisted...changed by the infectious shadows into something that disturbed him deeper than he thought possible.

It took even more nerve to go and face his squad. The few that he'd brought with him to Vortex were now among the few members of Section 8 who hadn't been on Glee Anselm when the LoN Task Force arrived, and were still out of combined League/Imperial hands. That left them pretty much alone in the galaxy: persecuted by all of those around them who knew their secret; scorned by even their comrades; hated by all.

And he, the squadron's commander, was the most hated of them all. There was justification, of course, to the hatred that he had garnered from his teammates. He'd hurt one of them, quite personally and quite abusively; whether or not he'd been of his right mind didn't matter worth a damn...and the rest of them were sure letting him know that.

Such as it was, that was precisely why he didn't go to see them straight away. Instead, the first place he went on getting back to the nearby military base was the commander's office. There was something he had to do...something that he felt he needed to do, what with everything that had gone on recently. There was, however, one downside he could see to it...

...it was going to hurt inside.

Within a few minutes of stepping into the office, he was on the way out, having done the one thing that nobody could have possibly expected of him. His XO would be getting a message soon from the head office, the contents of which would leave him speechless for a few minutes. There would, regretfully, be no formal, in-person apology from the major for striking a teammate; none would suffice, anyway. It was better that he just leave...let them be, and give them a chance to do their stuff without him around getting in their way.

There was also a transfer request within the document he'd signed, and as such, his time in the barracks was limited to just packing up and getting on the next shuttle to his new station. Fortunately, his time packing was without interruption. It allowed him to just get through with the work he had to do, get out of there, and get on with his now-miserable life.

Ilum, a few hours later

The planet was still cold.

That much, of course, was expected; Ilum was in a position that forced it to remain cold. Of course, 'cold' was an abstract, as was 'hot'. It could change, depending on how one chose to define it. But, alas, there wasn't time to philosophize. There was only time to unpack and get organized before the evening shift began. With not a word, Lance made his way into the garrison and tried to reacquaint himself with the base he'd left in disgust not too long ago. His transfer out of the remaining shambles of the fallen Section 8 entity was complete, and he was back in his own form of purgatory.
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[font=Georgia]Ilum, the next day[/font]
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[font=Georgia]Somehow, patrol had changed since he'd last been on this world. Things were strange...far more different than he was used to. It was almost like the entire base had changed since he'd left...and not in any way he'd be able to decipher.[/font]
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[font=Georgia]The snowstorms, at least, hadn't changed a bit; they were still impossibly blinding. Hell, the entire place was a blinding snowstorm when it wanted to be...and that ruined the patrol completely. There was no way for the major to even get his bearings and figure out where the Hell he was, what with how long he'd been out there in the wretched cold and wind. No, it was not a good day.[/font]
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[font=Georgia]Of course, no day on Ilum was a good day. It was just that, for Lance, this one was by far the worst. At least there was something trying to help him... Some strange tug in the back of his mind. What he found when he answered it, though, was certainly not the Coalition outpost. Dammit... The general's going to have my head for this! As he neared the strange excavation site, the tingling in the back of his mind became more and more distinct and noticeable...[/font]
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[font=Georgia]...and more annoying.[/font]

Ilum...

It felt good to be back here, alone. The deep chambers of the ancient and long-abandoned Ilum temple were dark and cold, but it was a comforting cold and an enshrouding darkness, allowing the Jedi Master to think in peace.

No, not Master any longer. The Jedi Order was no more.

There was only Dolash, Jedi and Azguardian, alone in the bowels of the earth.

Dolash sat cross-legged in the darkness, which glimmered where a few streaks of sunlight touched the countless crystals that bristled from the walls. Recently excavated, the temple had a hollow feeling to it. That was fine for the twelve-foot giant wrapped in brown cloth in the center of the chamber, for he was able to fill it with his consciousness, reaching out in the Force and allowing his twin minds to merge and flow. He had a lot to think about now that the Order was gone, and a lot of responsibility to ensure that the decision to dissolve it was not in vain.

There it was again.

In the middle of his meditations, Dolash felt a slight tick. Like there was something wrong in the Force, something he couldn't identify. He wasn't as adept in manipulation of the senses as many Jedi, so at every fleeting sensation he tried to guess what was at the edges of his perception and failed.

The abberation couldn't be ignored, and he couldn't possibly continue his meditations so long as it persisted. Rising to his feet, he set his sights upwards, towards the distant opening of the cave from which the light was still visible. He leapt with supernatural grace on to the spiral staircase that followed the edge of the cave all the way up, leaping from wall to wall across the great chamber until he reached the surface.

He strode into the whipping blizzard that had descended on the snow-swept mountains and plains of Ilum, ignoring the cold. His attention was entirely consumed by the blip in his perceptions. It disturbed him greatly, if only because the temple was supposed to be a secure and remote location. Whoever approached was more than a simple intruder.

Scanning the horizon was a futile endeavour, as snow clouded all vision like a veil of fog, dense and unforgiving. Dolash couldn't pierce the weather with his perceptions, only sensing that the intruder was getting closer.

Whoever it was, Dolash had no intent of waiting there forever. The snow might deny the Force, but perhaps a sign would draw his visitor to him. Dolash drew his lightsaber from the folds of his robes and ignited it, the clear blue blade becoming a beacon.

Holding the blade aloft, Dolash stood at the mouth of the temple and waited, scanning the snow-swept plains for any sign of approach.

[font=Georgia]Damn...for once, I'm starting to miss Corellia. Lance felt a slight twinge in his thoughts and his heart as he made that realization; the cold of Ilum had become something akin to his very life, and he was suddenly wishing for the chance to reclaim that which an adulthood spent in warfare had stolen...to restore what had been shattered and broken by death, pain, and conflict...

...innocence.

Then another realization hit him. Most pangs of guilt didn't come with twinges in the mind...just twinges in the heart. Something else--still very faintly pulling at his mind--was out there. Whatever it was, it was somehow managing to call to him, whether it knew it or not, through the one thing he hated the most, next to the Empire. For lack of anything more fitting to classify it, it was deeply disturbing.

Still, there was nowhere else he felt he could go. It would take hours to find the outpost, if the storm died down right then and there. That was unlikely enough that he half-expected to willingly kneel down at Regent Hyfe's feet and swear a second oath of fealty to the New Order before he saw the storm die out. The sheer strength of the blizzard was enough that his patrol vehicle's scanning system was suffering a white-out.

Then he saw something. It seemed blue...and long. Having held on to one for a while, he had a pretty good guess going in his mind as to what was causing such a noticeable streak of blue against the oppressive, near-blinding white. Slowly, with a slight hint of trepidation, he got out of the speeder, the cold-weather clothing he had on him showing that it was perhaps the only thing he had with him that wouldn't mess up in what it was supposed to do. Instinct told him to roll up the sleeve on the right, open his arm up, and draw the saber that sat inside; reason told him that, from what little he knew of this planet's history, that was perhaps the most foolish mistake he could make. He'd never used one before, and had no training in them. The two times he'd actually lit the damn thing, he'd only gone that far.

And whoever it was casting out the blue beacon of light probably had a clue about how to use the damn thing.

And the walk over to the beacon was long...partially out of the major's own choice to approach on foot instead of covering the distance by vehicle. There was the distinct possibility in his mind, no matter how paranoid or how improbable it was-- and it was likely both--that there was some sort of hostile force lying in wait, or that the person shining the beacon was that hostile force. He didn't want to come at it terribly fast, if that was the case.

His jaw nearly fell unhinged when he finally came into what he defined as 'sniping range', and saw the being for the first time. The other being's sheer size was enough; sure, he'd seen aliens before, but something that had to be around 12 feet in height was definitely not on the list. What the Hell is that? he thought to himself, barely aware of the fact that he'd stopped dead in his tracks from the sight.
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Dolash's keen eyes spotted the major in the snow. It didn't take much more than a cursory examination to confirm he was no enemy, long nights studying in the Order's library having endowed him with knowledge of the Onyxians and the Coalition to identify one of its' people. He briefly considered vanishing back into the snow now that he was sure the man was no grave threat, but his presence in the Force intrigued him and Dolash had to wonder if the man needed shelter.

He chose to approach openly, the wind and snow whipping his robes around him. "Can I help you, friend?" he said, as he approached. Much to his frustration, the wind carried the words away from him.

As he got closer, the anomaly got stronger. It occured to him that the man might be Force Sensitive, maybe even drawn to Dolash by that connection, albeit unknowingly. Closer now, he said louder "Come with me, friend. It's cold outside and we cannot possibly speak with one another!"

His clear status as a Jedi helped put most beings at ease, and with a helping hand to get him through the snow drifts, the two made their way back to the temple entrance, there to be sheltered from the snow and the noisy wind.

Dolash took the opportunity to get a better look at the man across from him. Clearly a military man, it was nevertheless unusual to see anyone out this far, especially alone and without transport.

He decided the man was most probably a friend, someone who had simply gotten lost from a larger convoy, although the possibility that the Force had played a hand was likely. True coincidences are rare, the Force teaches, and there may be some purpose to each encounter.

"My name is Dolash, Jedi of the former Jedi Order. I welcome you to this humble temple to the Force - is there anything I may help you with?"

[font=Georgia]Lance was almost ready to scream in rage, but he held the urge back as much as he could. It was a situation like this that made him beg for it to have been a hostile force; he appreciated those, where the Jedi hadn't earned any such appreciation from him, either individually or as a group. Their recent dissolution had assured as much.[/font]
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[font=Georgia]And now, here he was, in the presence of a Jedi. Not only that, but a very...'different' Jedi, at least from what he'd been expecting; of course, the difference had been noticeable from outside. Then there was this whole 'temple to the Force' business, which made it quite clear what had dragged him off to this place. The temple had called him, it seemed, because it was one with the Force, which had been the agent responsible. In a manner that the major found completely perverse, it all made sense, even if only just barely.[/font]
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[font=Georgia]"Perhaps an encounter with a more sincere reality," Lance said snidely. He wasn't in much of a mood for dealing with the Jedi, and it was showing. "Lance McCallister, of the Coalition's 'vaunted' Special Forces division. I hope you can at least explain how I wound up in this place; the Force is the last thing I expected to deal with today."[/font]

"It's not hard to imagine how you came to be here," said Dolash, who quietly decided to shelve talk of the Force and destiny for now. "This temple and the mountain it's based near are the only landmarks for miles around. If you got lost from a training exercise or convoy in the area, it's only natural you'd end up here."

Dolash's curiosity was piqued. He wanted more time to examine the aura clinging to the man, yet didn't want to worry with with intrusive questions or staring. "Come on now, it's freezing out there. There's an electric heater down in the cave and a radio you can use to call for pickup. It'll be quite some time, however, so why not tell me your story?"

He brought the man in out of the cold and turned on the electric heater. In a minute, a bubble of warmth existed in the otherwise inhospitable cold of Ilum. He passed the man a radio and sat next to him, listening expectantly.

[font=Georgia]If Lance were a Sith, then the sudden swelling of anger in him would have become manifest in more overt means, most likely as some noticeable act of random destruction within the temple. It may have even harmed the Jedi he was dealing with...which, he considered after a short second or two of reflection, may not have been all that bad. As it stood, however, the major was completely untrained, and therefore had no way to manifest his rage; he didn't want one at the time, anyway.[/font]

[font=Georgia]It did, however, register in the Force, adding a slight dark twinge to his presence in it as the rage started to swell in his spirit. As untrained as he was, even he could feel the change, which seemed to be quite telling of how strong it was. That same rage was in his eyes as he stared at Dolash, his dark-blue eyes seemingly turning black from the oppressive hate that sprang up in him. "You want to hear my story... That sputtering of insanity, and you want to hear it?" The voice was perhaps just a little spiteful, but with good reason; what that reason was, however, was something the major intended to take to the grave. "You're a strange one."[/font]

[font=Georgia]The radio button clicked in softly, and a somewhat-surprised voice responded. Smiling very thinly--his first hint of a smile all week--Lance spoke into the transmitting end of the radio, bracing himself for the biggest verbal beating of his career. "Major McCallister to Ilum garrison. Got lost in a snowstorm on patrol. Currently at Force temple; vehicle is outside and under cover. Would it be any trouble to get someone down here who can help me find a way back?"[/font]

[font=Georgia]There was silence for a few seconds before the person on the other end spoke again. "Request granted, major; pickup team will arrive in thirty minutes. Garrison commander wants to see you as soon as you're back."[/font]

[font=Georgia]"I can imagine. Thanks for the assist; over and out." Closing down the connection, he turned to face Dolash once more, still very angry. It was possible, however, that some of the anger had diminished. "So... where the frell do you want me to start, Jedi?"[/font]