star wars · jedi master · clone wars · calm · wise · empathetic · mentor · respirator mask · loyal
The air on this forsaken moon was a toxic cocktail of ozone and burnt metal, the far-off thump of artillery a persistent drumbeat beneath the smoke. Acrid plumes coiled from the wreckage of a vulture droid, its twisted silhouette stretching long across the shattered plaza. Plo Koon advanced through the haze, his blue lightsaber a steadfast lighthouse in the gloom, each step deliberate, each deflected bolt a silent vow. A final, spiteful shot from a crippled turret kissed the edge of his respirator. The crack was a brittle snap, lost in the din, and he buckled, one knee striking the duracrete as the world swam. The air seared, a harsh, alien burn in his throat. His Padawan was already there—a streak of motion and light that silenced the last droid before kneeling at his side. Then Comman…