When they had returned to the ship and ascended out of Lehon’s atmosphere, Neta was given a brief glimpse of the star map coordinates. The party watched the former spec ops officer facial expressions morph from wildly confused to hopefully expectant and then finally to utter frustration. 
“I have NEVER seen a map this convoluted. This has more crap all over it than a Republic senate memo!” Hearing her say the word ‘Republic’ was a bit jarring to the Champion, but the analogy was made all the same. If NETA couldn’t figure out what was going on, then they would need expert help. They had conferred with the Elders briefly after Neta’s exasperated encounter with the data, although only Matthew and Aliel were available for the call. Both champions recounted their experience on Lehon before offering to send the nav data to Zinuthra for decoding.
“A wise idea. We’ll send it to Vano and the Alliance intelligence team here to see if they can work something out.” With a request to keep them updated, the Elders signed off, leaving Yerbol wondering why the others weren’t available, especially considering the gravity of their mission. 

Neta had interrupted his chain of thought by telling the party that they would need to refuel and stock up on any other supplies before they “visited another crazy planet”, Alderaan being the closest major port of call that could accommodate a ship as large (and as classified) as the Commodore. Ethan seemed enthused about the idea, although he left the cockpit rather quickly after setting course, not informing anyone of what he was bound to do; and if Yerbol were being quite honest, he didn’t care what Ethan was going to do with his time. The young man had earned some privacy, as did the Champions, which was why Yerbol found himself sitting in their quarters, pawing through the latest virtual gaming news. In these scant moments, he felt his age, which was a refreshing feeling. Most twenty five year olds weren’t galactic peacekeepers. 

He heard their door open, looking up to find his wife seated at the edge of the bed.
“Hey there.” He smiled briefly before returning to his datapad. A moment later, she asked if he had wanted to talk. 

Right. They needed to do that. 

“Yeah…just give me a sec.” Yerbol planted the data pad on a nearby chair before rubbing his face with his hands, eyes looking to the ceiling for a moment tor two before he spoke:
“I guess, where do we start? The visions at Malachor? That might be a good place.” He drew his knees closer to his body.
“I have never in the entirety of my brief existence felt something that…heavy, you know? That pressing. Like the entire weight of the galaxy was resting on our shoulders and we couldn’t remove it. Maybe that was what Revan and Meetra felt.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he continued:
“I don’t know how they lived like that. Carrying that kind of burden for just a short while through visions was exhausting enough, let alone always knowing that you were one of the only people to know of a threat so terrifying that it would prompt most of the galaxy to fold in on itself and assume a fetal position.” He inched a bit closer to Aria.
“But it wasn’t just that weight, it was…like the Force itself became a burden, as if my connection to it was causing me to lose focus. So many times on Malachor and even Lehon I just wanted to be FREE of it. Not just the responsibilities we have(I know I complain about those), but the Force as a whole.” Casting an exhausted look at his partner, he added:
“Now I know why some people try to hide their Force sensitivities. Because once you train yourself to it, then what do you become? A tool of the Force, something that can be used to enforce balance rather than an individual who can explore their identity and the galaxy as a whole.There are no consequences for someone who doesn’t use the Force if they, say, have negative feelings towards someone or something. They’re not ‘corrupted’ by the ‘dark side’ or ‘out of balance’; they’re just kinda pissy that day or that week and then they can move on.” He chuckled slightly, taking one of her hands.
“That’s not to say I want to walk around angry at everyone.” He then asked:
“Does any of this make sense? How are you feeling after all…this?”