Evaluation

Making the trek from the Gnarls to the Jedi Temple was treacherous, but not impossible. It was still an arduous task, what with Flesh Raiders lurking in the brush and ruins, while you shuffle your way down the trail, mostly naked and covered in cum. Eventually, however, you manage to arrive at your destination.

The Jedi Temple stands tall over the valley it is nestled in, flanked by ridges and waterfalls. The prodigious complex towers over you, its vaunted heights shining with the craftsmanship of the Jedi who'd laid the foundations for the return of the Order.

You stare in awe, and then in terror. Scattered across the courtyard are various groups of Jedi, from padawan to masters. There was no way you were going to make it to the temple without being noticed.

Was there a side entrance? A backdoor you could use? Maybe you could find a droid and ask it to get you some clothes?

You shuffle in place, glancing around before conceding. "Kriff."

Cupping your cum-stained flower and tits, you hurriedly shuffle down into the courtyard. No one notices you at first, not until an instructor giving a lecture spots you and chokes on his lesson. His students look over and you burn hot red, then speed up your pace.

Soon, you hear people gossiping and some giggling, only to be silenced by their instructors. It doesn't help that eyes still linger on you, watching your torn up robes, spunk-covered cleavage, and glistening thighs.

Thankfully, you manage to race up the front steps of the temple and find some respite in the shadow of a pillar. However, while catching your breath, your holocom rings. A squeak fall past your lips and you take a moment to breathe before answering the call.

"Padawan Brighthand," a woman speaks, dressed in Jedi robes and donned in sparse plating. "I'm Satele Shan, leader of the Jedi Council. I'd like to speak privately with you before we meet with the others."

You blink, staring at the apparent head of the Order. She was talking to you. Satele Shan. The legendary Knight who'd lead armies and battled the Sith on countless worlds, who'd survived the Sith invasion of Korriban, and then turned the tide in the battle for Alderaan. She was talking to you-

Satele Shan clears her throat, one eyebrow raised. You flush red and stumble over your words. "I- Yes, of course! ...Have I done something wrong?"

"No, you aren't in trouble. Please, come find me in my meditation room in the temple."

The call ends, but a location is marked on your holomap.

Studying it, then glancing around, you begin navigating the winding halls. After bumping into a few people and arriving at the wrong rooms, you eventually find the right one, tucked away in a quiet corner.

You step inside and glance around, finding the Jedi Grandmaster herself kneeling in the middle of the room. She practically glowed with the ****, exuding an aura and presence that shined like a beacon.

You stare in awe as that light dims, her focus now coming to you.

"Welcome, padawan." She rises up, formal and polite. You can't help but notice that age and stress have done nothing to erode the curves of her figure. "The temple is already buzzing with accounts of your heroism in the training grounds."

You flush red and fidget in place as she mentions Master Orgus, who apparently mentioned your confrontation with the fallen Jedi in a report.

"I understand that you attempted to fight the man leading the Flesh Raiders, and failed.”

You open your mouth to argue, but close it and nod. “I-... I thought I could take him.”

She studies your face before bowing her head. “So many of us do. I once had a similar experience many years ago.”

“You did?”

She nods and looks away. “It was before the war, when I was only an apprentice. My master and I were stationed on Korriban, to keep watch over the Sith ruins.”

“What happened?”

“The war.” She inhales and loosens a clenched fist. “We’d prepared ourselves to face looters and smugglers, but never an invasion fleet. We knew we were beaten the moment they dropped out of hyperspace.” She strides over to an armor stand where another, older set of her vestments are held. "We tried to escape, but we came face-to-face with a Sith and his apprentice."

You lean over, trying to glimpse her face. "Did you beat them?"

She doesn't answer, not at first. Then, after a moment, she shakes her head. "No. My master... he faced the Sith, while I dealt with the apprentice." She finally turns to meet your gaze, her face shadowed with regret and a tinge of shame. "I thought I could take him, just as you had. My hubris was my undoing, and as I lay there in the rubble and smoke, he stripped me of my robes, my pride, and my virginity."

She glided a hand over a repaired tear on her vestments. You stare in silence, stunned by her openness with her trauma.

Some time passed before you work up some courage to speak up. "I-...I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She stepped away from the vestments and meets your gaze with a solemn one. "I failed both the Order and myself that day, and for a time I was overcome by that guilt. I let my emotions drive me to make... obscene choices, ones that I regret to this day. However, it was a lesson I needed to learn. Even heroes can fall... and sometimes, survival is not a victory." She swallows bitterly. "I managed to escape that encounter, but only because my master stayed behind to fend the Sith off."

You stare at her for a time, then drop your gaze to the floor as the revelation washes over you. "So... But... If even you can fall, how can I-"

"Do not think of my failure, padawan." She lays a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Think of my success. Even after I fell, I rose back up, brighter and stronger than before."