Ciyagi entered the hangar, his mood hadn't changed at all, his grin on his face, his eyes showed that he had been crying, but his expression did not. His mind was hazy, dark, and warped, it would be painful to read.
His eyes were glazed, searching here and there, for something that was no longer existant. He walked over to the side of the ship, looking at the repairs, his but why he was doing it, was uncertain.
As Jason and Grace entered the ship, the undercarrage of the ship opened, the floor underneath opening slightly, machanical arms lifting huge crates into the lesser compartments of the ship. Ciyagi watched, his maniacle grin growing wider, as the crates were loaded, the last two were the ones from earlier.
He turned, walking up the ramp past the three conversing with eachother. Ciyagi mumbled to himself, his words unintelligable, even compared to Phoenix's speach.
Ciyagi kept moving, going to a corner of the cargo hold, he set his two crates down, moving rapidly to the middle of the hold, looking around as if looking for something, or someone, mumbling to himself the whole time.
"But in you...I see the potential to see the Force die, to turn away from its will..."
"You are beautiful to me, exile. A dead spot in the Force, an emptiness in which its will might be denied."
"But no Jedi ever made the choice you did. To sever ties so completely, so utterly, that it leaves a wound in the Force..."
"I would have killed the galaxy to preserve you...You are more precious than you know..."-now...it's verbatim!-A quote from Darth Traya (Kreia)