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[color=D03333][h3]Lyo | Mandalore | Keldabe, Administrative District [/h3][/color]
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A halo of random objects floated freely around his head, tumbling end over end in the air as if drifting through the vacuum of open space. A hydrospanner, a comb, a flimsiplast booklet full of touristy Keldabe postcards - these and other things decorating Lyo's small temporary sleeping quarters came together to form a loose circle reminiscent of planetary rings as he sat cross-legged in the center, deep in his meditations. His mind was carefully and studiously empty, deafened to the distracting noise of intrusive thoughts as he listened to the heartbeat of the Galaxy. The little currents and eddies of the living Force swirled around him, and like a practiced tailor he gathered them into a thread that ran through him.

Lyo allowed the Force to flow fully into his body, starting in his chest and spreading through his limbs, making him strong. Only, as it flowed through his cybernetic arm and leg, he felt himself focusing in more deeply on their minutia: the many thousands of wires, synthetic nerves and microactuators that allowed him to move them as if they were his own flesh and blood. The Force was indeed flowing through these machines, same as his real limbs, but he could feel deeply their slowness, their seeming mockery of his desire to move forward unhindered and unafraid. His resentment met their defiance, an escalating crescendo of frustration that seemed to burn, burn like smoking mechanical wreckage, up from his fingertips to his arms, towards his head, to his mind -

And suddenly his eyes were open, his meditation interrupted, the floating objects thumping to the floor one by one. Il-Lyo let out a long, ragged sigh. Damnit. It seemed like there was no escape from the ruin of his body these days, not even in the Force. He lifted his gaze from the floor, only to discover that one thing was still floating, right in front of his face: his lightsaber crystal. Suspended from a chain around his neck, the glimmering yellow shard of Pontite seemed to echo his simmering feelings of annoyance in the Force. He kept it there to remind himself of his old life, and to use in the construction of a new saber, if he ever came by the materials. His superiors had not yet provided them, and he lacked the means to gather the right equipment himself for the time being. As he sat there, wondering if he would ever be worthy enough to carry such a weapon again, he felt the lightest hint of a tug on his neck in the direction of the door, almost as if the crystal had willed itself to move away from him.

Lyo stared, disbelieving, and shook his head slightly to clear it as he released his hold on the crystal and it dropped back to rest against his chest. Must have accidentally moved it without really thinking about it. He [i]did[/i] need to get going, after all. Perhaps he had subconsciously been trying to shake himself out of his reflections. The young Guardian quickly scrambled up off the floor, throwing on his robe and grabbing his cane, then pausing to take a deep breath before stepping out into the hallway.

The rhythmic clicking of the cane on hard, polished flooring made for a curious duet with the heavier, less consistent thumping of his cybernetic leg. He tried to be discreet as he moved among various leaders and dignitaries, but in this state stealth was not exactly his best attribute. Occasionally he would lock eyes with someone and a spark of familiarity would run through him. Many of those not wearing armor as they shuffled through the halls had been at the meeting this morning. From his position "guarding" the door, Lyo had gotten a pretty good look at most of them as they made hasty exits from the room, looking to escape the rising tensions within.

He'd been ordered to keep watch with the Mandalorians as the more influential Guardians of the Empire went inside to mingle with the guests and keep a direct eye on their Empress. Once, he might have resented being placed in such a position - a slight on his capabilities and his pedigree. In present times, however, he knew there was little he could do to protect anyone that his peers could not do better. If anything, he was frustrated by the thickness of the walls making it harder for him to listen in on the conversations occurring within. Any tiny bit of new information on Galactic politics would be invaluable to his second family. He had eventually resorted to reaching out with the Force and gently probing the mood in the chamber, taking care not to delve too carefully into any one being's mind so as not to alert the other Force sensitives to his doings.

Even without the Force, it had been easy to hear the Mandalore's sudden sharp reprimand of Empress Renkar. The silence in the chamber afterward had been louder than any of the preceding hum of discussion. And very shortly following that, the attendees began to make their excuses and head for the door. Lyo had felt a vague mixture of amusement and embarrassment as he watched them all go.

The setting sun fell into his one good remaining eye, the pain pulling him roughly away from his memories. He had reached the entrance of the Citadel. Out there in the city was another meeting, one that carried far more weight for him and for his own future. If he wasn't fit to accompany the Empress, then let the Empress take care of herself for the time being. One long, laborious step at a time, Il-Lyo Sechero waded into the Founding Day crowds.