Raiju
27-02-2014 11:13:27
"Where are you going this time, Jason?" The question was direct and matter-of-fact, befitting of its owner.
"Wherever the solar winds take me," Jason Hunter replied. The Corellian had a large duffel bag slung over one shoulder as he and Scion Altera, Quaestor of the mighty House Tarentum, marched down one of Castle Tarentum's many stone corridors. The lighting was muted, the glow panels set in the walls subdued at the late hour.
"So, that's it, huh?" Scion questioned from a few paces behind Jason. "You're giving up, throwing in the towel, buying the moisture farm?"
"Apparently, you didn't read the entire communique."
"Oh, no, I read it. Thats why I caught up to you. You know you have friends here, Jason; we can help."
Jason's large form abruptly halted and turned towards the Quaestor. "That's exactly why I have to leave," he said, his azure eyes boring holes into Scion's. "If I have another psychotic break like I had on Khar Delba, and I end up seriously hurting someone here, I'd never forgive myself. And we'd be here in that case anyways, but under less happy circumstances."
Scion looked into Jason's face for a few heartbeats, as if trying to find the man he was behind the slowly growing madness. Finally, he allowed his gaze to drop with a weary sigh. "Khar Delba was tough on all of us."
"You didn't try to kill Anshar," Jason retorted, a little more hotly than he had intended. He shook his head in frustration, running his mechanical fingers back through his lavender hair. "I have to do this, Scion. If not for anyone else's sake than my own. I'm losing my mind, and I know I can find the lost shreds of my sanity out there somewhere."
"I know you do," Scion admitted. A small smile touched his lips. "You just have bad timing."
"Always have."
"Indeed. Promise me one thing? Once you've found yourself and your marbles, come back to us. Tarentum will need all the experienced Jedi she can muster in the coming months, but I will have no use for you if you're just going to be a liability."
"Agreed. Just what I was thinking," Jason said, returning the grin. "Well, unless you're going to walk me to hangar, I suppose this is where we part ways."
"I suppose it is," Scion concurred. He reached out and gripped Jason's extended hand, shaking it firmly. "Take care of yourself. Return safely and swiftly."
"I'll do my best," Jason said, releasing the Quaestor's hand. "Hold down the fort."
The two gave each other a curt nod before Jason spun on his heel and continued on his solitary way to the hangar. Scion watched the Corellian until he disappeared around a corner, knowing that it would be some time until Jason Hunter again walked the hallowed halls of Castle Tarentum.
***---***---***
The shuttle ride to the tumultuous surface of the Yridian sea was without incident. Jason had boarded the submersible quietly, and rode in silence. Not a hard trick, being the only other sentient being aboard aside from the pilot, who was too wrapped up in his duties to notice the Tarenti lost in thought in the passenger cabin behind him.
I have to do this, Jason thought to himself, watching the dark waves outside the small pothole. If I hurt anyone else because of what my mind has become, I couldn't forgive myself. Never forgive myself...
It was already hard enough coming to grips with what he had attempted to do to Anshar. Trying to fathom what may happen if he lost control again was, well...unfathomable. Escaping and finding solace, perhaps going on a pilgrimage of sorts, would allow him to sort out his mind. Defragment, in a way. The piece of the puzzle he hadn't told Scion was that he could feel the Force pulling at him, tugging him away from Tarentum again. There was something out in the larger galaxy that it wanted him to find, and he'd be a fool to ignore the beckoning.
"We're here, sir," the pilot said from the smallish cockpit. Jason glanced out the porthole, spying the lights of the spaceport the House utilized to get on- and offworld. He stood and grabbed his bag from the wire overhead rack, and stepped out of the craft and onto the surface of Yridia II.
Looking to the east, he could just begin to see the lightening on the horizon as Yridae began its slow climb of the sky. Soon, daylight would dominate the world. Jason would be long gone before then. He cast one last, forlong look across the sea in the direction of the Castle before tossing his bag over his shoulder and turning towards the spaceport with a determined stride.
There, an old X-Wing was waiting for him. It was a model that had served during the era of the Rebellion, and thusly was inexpensive to obtain. The newer, more advanced models had greatly depreciated the value ot older X-Wings, regardless of their capability or notoriety. Jason had chosen the aging Rebel craft to be his means out of Brotherhood space simply for the practicality of it: storage space, weapons, shields and hyperdrive. He had flown against many of these fighters over the years to know what they were capable of, and had always respected them. Now, one would convey him during his search for sanity.
Stowing his bag, Jason gave a curt nod to the technician that had hurried over to disconnect the fuel line. Leaping to the edge of the portside stabilizer, he crossed over and sat in the cockpit. Pressing buttons and flipping switches, he powered the snubfighter's systems. Minutes later, he was lifting from the surface of Yridia on repulsors, looking down on a world he had come to call home for much of his life. He knew many of his colleagues would feel betrayed by his decision, and that they wouldn't understand the necessity for his departure. Hopefully, upon his return, he could make them understand.
"Farewell, Tarentum," he whispered to the universe, pushing the throttle to the stops and jetting for space. "May your journey be easier than I feel mine will be..."