Jocasta surveys the empty shelves and echoing expanses of the archives one final time.
This may be the greatest accomplishment of her life.
One she never anticipated.
One she never saw coming.
The effort of moving the archives was not planned for, not in any real way, not in generations.
Her life’s work, the life’s work of generations of Jedi and Archivists before her.
It will be the life’s work of many generations after her.
The knowledge of thousands of years.
It has been successful, the efforts of dozens of Archivists, Masters, Knights, and Padawans.
Jocasta walks the spaces again, a final pass by her desk, a piercing glance into the corners most likely to be missed.
Everything is as it should be.
Nothing is as it should be.
She takes a breath.
That isn’t quite true.
She lets it out.
One of the Archivist Knights waves her over, a smile on her face. She’s young yet, but she’s taken to the task at hand with a strength Jocasta had not anticipated. Jocasta has no doubts that her new padawan will thrive under her instruction.
“Madame Nu.” She greets. “We’ve finished with the final checks, I have four knights doing another round to make absolutely certain.”
Jocasta nods, she trusts them. It can be difficult at times, but she does.
They have done so well.
The Knight fidgets, just slightly and Jocasta waits.
“I think we’re good here. Thank you for your guidance.” She begins and swallows whatever hesitation is left. “I just thought, we’ve all had the chance to… say our farewells, meditate. We have everything under control, you could….” She trails off, letting Jocasta consider it.
She’s right, Jocasta realizes.
She was careful to make sure everyone else had time to visit their favorite corner of the gardens one last time or meditate in one of the hidden places of the Temple or spar in their preferred salle.
She has packed her own few belongings, mediated and slept as much as necessary but… she hasn’t said goodbye.
It hits her as the Knight urges her on.
She hasn’t come to terms with it, between her many responsibilities, she hasn’t mourned.
The Temple is her home.
She is not mistaken in thinking she might never see it again.
She nods and offers the Knight a kind smile. Truly, she has grown in these last trials.
Jocasta Nu is a Jedi, she will do what she must.
Coruscant is a place, like so many others. It is not the end.
But… it is an end.
She will no longer walk these storied halls, filled with history and love.
She must leave them, the crèche where she was raised, the dorms she grew to be a Knight in, the rooms she lives in now.
She wanders the halls and hides a smile as a group of young Jedi squeal and race down the hall, their Crèchemaster following calmly behind.
They will not remember this place, not intimately as she does.
They will not grow up here, in the home they should never have been forced to leave.
The details of the fountains they so love now will fade, the tree they once loved to scramble over will be misremembered, the color of the floors in the Creche will be tucked away and forgotten with time.
They will grow up loved, though.
That much will not change.
There will be new fountains and new trees and new floors.
Jocasta allows herself to wander to the Room of a Thousand Fountains.
There is a tree, older than any of the others.
In her younger days she used to climb its many branches and hide in its leaves. It was her favorite place to find peace and calm in those days.
Jocasta has left her days of scrambling up trees behind her but it is still peaceful, sitting at its base.
That much has not changed.
She takes a deep breath and reaches out.
The Force still greets her, as it has before.
That is its own comfort.
The Force is on Mandalore, as it is everywhere. No amount of new beginnings in strange places will change that.
She sinks into meditation, not seeking anything but the peace and calm of the Force.
It is some time before she senses anyone else but at some point another presence joins her, older and seeking the same peace she is.
She doesn’t rise from her meditation or seek to identify them, they are welcome all the same.
They come out of their meditation together and Jocasta finds Master Yoda as her meditation companion.
She nods to him and he smiles and nods back.
“Master Yoda.”
“Madame Nu. Your place, this is?”
She nods again and breathes in, memorizing the smell of this corner of the garden.
“Yes, I am not the only one but… I believe the only one of my age group.” She has seen one of the Senior Padawans frequent the area and there is a Knight nearing their mastery who occasionally joins her though they've never spoken.
Soon, there will be no new lovers of this place.
“Sad to leave, you are.” He notes.
“Of course.” She is. She will move forward, make a new home on Mandalore or perhaps on some other planet if the planned explorations go well. That doesn’t change the stubborn part of her heart that wishes she didn’t have to. “Are you?”
“Hmmm, yes.” Yoda agrees. He doesn’t elaborate, Jocasta doesn’t need him to.
He has seen so many generations here.
She takes a moment to lean back against the tree and absently wonders which is older, the tree or the master in front of her.
She doesn’t ask, she is an Archivist and Jedi Master, not a little Initiate with more questions than sense.
He narrows his eyes as he stands.
“Wonder, you do.” He accuses.
Jocasta does not deign to answer him.
“That old, I am not.” He protests.
She smoothes her skirts and stands as well, ignoring his grumblings.
Jocasta is wise enough to know not to rise to an old Jedi’s guesses.
Master Yoda is many things, a mind reader of that skill and ease is not one of them.
He huffs and joins her as she walks the gardens, pausing to remember the occasional childhood memory.
It is… nice.
Master Yoda is a steady presence at her side, sometimes silent, sometimes bringing up some anecdote from a hundred years ago about an Initiate hiding something in the ferns.
A few times, Jocasta is the one to tell him a story. To point out the place her crèchemate got stuck on a dare and made them call a master to help. The hidden corner an older padawan taught them sabbacc in alleged secret. Her Nautolan crèchemate's favorite childhood pool.
By the time they part ways again Jocasta feels... lighter.
This change will doubtless bring many things, some will be hard and very few will be easy.
The Jedi will go on.
She is confident in that.
This will not be the end.