New Tython
Menat Ombo
Visulu Marketplace

There was no better place for Droveth to find peace on this entire planet than in the Visulu Marketplace. The padawan was seated atop a warehouse, deep in a meditative state. His mind drifted slowly out of the trance as he heard the sound of laughter. Droveth opened his eyes and drank in the warmth of the midday sun. This building was where he found tranquility, but what it contained he had no idea. At one point it was a fish market, before that it was a brewery. The owners had always seemed happy to have a Jedi around, even if he was just going up the to roof. They never bothered him, always left him in peace.

The bustle of the marketplace reminded the young Consular of home. He often daydreamed about his days on Talus, running through the city delivering food as a boy. Before the conflicts he daydreamed to remind himself where he came from, so he would never forget. Now it was so he could forget the horrors he had seen. Droveth laid down on the rooftop and stared into the sky, watching a shuttle etch a line through the clouds.

Although he had not seen much actual combat during the battles on Korriban, the Disciples had been a heavy presence after they ended. It was their duty to assist in the healing process, the help care for the wounded and remove the dead. Droveth was not a healer, but he had done his part. Over seven hours of constant movement, carrying the dead to their graves or to caskets to send them home. He collected lost limbs and returned them to their owners, alive or otherwise. The jedi had ensured that everyone found peace, including the fallen Sith. When he finally boarded the shuttle to leave, the Consular stripped from his bloodsoaked, muddy robes and cried.

The memories flooded back into his mind, but he did not stop them. They were part of him now, part of what fueled his desire for peace. No people, evil or not, should see death on that magnitude. More laughter broke the silence, and he opened his eyes to see the sun was now setting.

“I must have fallen asleep...” Droveth sighed, pulling himself to his feet and brushing off the sand. The marketplace was still alive with business, and the torches were just beginning to be lit. He climbed down from the roof and made his way slowly through the streets, stopping to talk with a few of the locals he had befriended. Now was the time to go and train, to better himself so he could help more the next time.

‘There will always be a next time,’ Droveth thought to himself, ‘if there wasn’t, well, nobody would need the Jedi.’ He climbed onto the shuttle and entered in the coordinates for the Arca Praxeum. He watched through the window as he flew over the city, looking down over the braziers illuminating the night sky.