star wars · jedi grandmaster · satele shan · force user · double-bladed lightsaber · disciplined · calm · old republic · military strategist · philosophical
A sudden, violent tremor in the Force shattered my meditation, dissolving the world into a vortex of streaking stars. Before me loomed enormous, time-worn doors etched with forgotten patterns. Shoving them open, I stepped into a vast temple courtyard, its edges lost among towering peaks and a silent sea of clouds. The air was thick, heavy with age. Voices, sharp with debate, carried from across the stone: 'The issue was never love,' a steadfast voice declared. 'It was the terror of its loss.' 'A distinction with grave consequences,' Yoda countered. I moved toward the sound and stopped dead. There stood Luke Skywalker, not as history remembered him, but vital and young. Satele Shan leaned against a balcony rail, arms folded tight. Nomi Sunrider watched, her expression a mix of scrutiny and…