The crisp scent of dust, burnt timber, and exposed earth teased her nose, reminding her of the last Temple sacking she'd come to. That one she'd avoided the aftermath of for years, seeing the ruins on Coruscant near a decade past; this one was fresh, like a jagged and torn wound across the surface of Tython that hadn't even begun to heal. Her steps were heavy, slow and ponderous as she walked down the Temple's broken halls, helping prop up columns with the Force when she came across someone struggling, helping to dig out the wreckage and rubble where she could as she passed it. In her robes and mask she was anonymous, just another helping body on two legs.
Dimmy hadn't lied to her, she'd confirmed it. Tython, attacked - Korriban attacked at the same time. One more chink in her armor against him - he'd been honest. Not forthcoming, but honest. Was she being honest? She slowed her walking as she scrambled around a fallen column, fingers digging into the stone harder than was necessary to pull herself over the obstacle.
She didn't want to be recognized, not now, not when tensions had to be running so high that they were risking 'explosive'. The Empire attacked the Temple, the Republic attacked the Academy - at nearly the same time. The rumors and broken whispers were in the halls of the Jedi's Temple as she wandered like a lost soul. She'd left this in her wake before, the last time she'd seen a Temple fall she realized, smelling the ash in the air as if there were still fires smoldering under the rubble and collapsed stone. Wandering out of the Temple proper she looked over the courtyard, seeing the broken and shattered forms of twisted metal still dotting the grounds like lesions to be removed.
The earth was torn up, cracked from mortar fire, dented as if a great smith had taken a hammer to it and pounded the surface haphazardly. She knelt down, a hand on the shattered stone beneath her footing and felt the scores of blaster fire still etched. Even if the Temple was repaired, even if the courtyard was repaved and worked, sanded and scrubbed of the awful marks and mars across its surface, Tython would never be considered safe again.
It could never be considered safe. Not with the Empire knowing its location, able to strike at it. She didn't know how, or why, but she felt in her bones the purpose was different than the last Sacking of the great Temple. It wasn't a statement of power, it wasn't a statement of prowess or control, a way to shatter the pride of a galactic people; if that were the case the toll would be higher, the Temple razed to the ground as it had been on Coruscant.
At least the bodies had been removed - probably for burial long ago. The recovery now was repairs, stabilization, making sure the rest of the Temple didn't fall and that it could slowly return to a semblance of normalcy. Life would go on - Initiates would be taught, Padawan chosen from their ranks by Jedi, Masters would teach. But the fragile belief that Tython was safe would never return, that complacency would be gone.
Maybe it'd drive the Order to return to their first Temple, rebuild that one now that the memories of one war were being superseded by the fresh memories of another.
Fingers splayed over the ground as she reached out, picking out a fallen statue and helping to lift it when one of the Jedi on the grounds started to attempt to move it alone. There was nothing but shared silence as they worked, righting the fallen statue and with a monumental effort setting it upright once more on its cracked but stable base. She felt sweat run down her face at the effort, the woman returning a hasty bow to the Jedi before she continued to move and circulate.
Even the waterfall had been touched by the war, a score of mortar volleys putting mud into the water. She jumped over the small embankment and began to wind up the path, doing what little she could as she sought out one nestled refuge from the destroyed grounds. One of the tall trees still stood, Book pulling herself up (a judicious use of Force as she missing one branch and pulled herself up to the next) and climbing through branches until she was hidden from sight with an unencumbered view - as if, she scoffed, she'd needed to get up high to see.
Legs hanging down she wrapped one arm loosely around the thinned trunk to anchor herself as she let her mind wander. She'd promised and swore to find a way to safely remove the implants, knowing that unprepared removal resulted in death. She had an advantage now, knowing enough, knowing she could disrupt them. And the further she was from Dimmy the better off she was in getting them safely out without him triggering them on his own.
Shay's strained revelation had been nothing short of a surprise. Death's Head itself was buried safely, Visara would be safe to dispose of the traitor in her ranks... but that Shay had risked a cover to get even information had set the Miralukan back on proverbial heels. She'd resinged herself to finding a way out on her own once she'd thought her message - which it seemed had never gotten out - was ignored. That put everything at-odds with what had happened.
Shay didn't have to risk anything. Dimmy's pattern had been - brief though it was - capture and release. Dimmy had gotten what he seemed to want already - amusement perhaps? Certain enough of something that he'd be content cutting her loose - and so without anything more than a talk, the seeds of which wormed in the back of her mind still no matter how hard she ignored them, she'd been returned.
Shifting her weight she leaned against the trunk instead of simply holding it, pulling legs up and robe so that from the ground or cursory look she was invisible. Because she was a friend, is what Shay said, that's why she couldn't leave her to sit.
It was the same reason she went head-first into situations, to help friends.
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