Public A Monument To Your Sins

[Scylla AI]

Tag: Bernard

Others analyzed something entirely different as the reports were made.

A blinking anonymous message appeared on his communicator, waiting for him to notice:

We see great potential in you and agree that crimes should be punished as the law demands. Too many criminals walk free from Justice. If you need a cover, press X now. We'll be in touch.

Two intriguing identity profiles could materialize with a single button press, offering two choices.

The first profile displayed a carefully constructed likeness of Bernard , spouting lies and half-truths. Doctored and fabricated by a sophisticated AI, providing him a way out of his predicament by blaming another. This setup framed a known criminal agitator on Coruscant, ready to be blamed for spreading lies on the holonet and giving him deniability about his controversial message. It also provided a convenient way for an upstanding Jedi to take down a criminal. Justice for those flaunting the law. The criminal's vile holonet post history, known affiliations, and past crimes were all displayed for use. In a densely populated world like Coruscant, the AI and its operators easily found visual likenesses.

The second profile offered a cover identity for a meeting on Byss, complete with an unmarked transport for him to travel without a trace. Should too much heat come his way, a man of conviction would always be welcome for a righteous cause.

The long conflict never missed an opportunity.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The Alliance might've evacuated their politicians to Fondor in anticipation of the Dark Empire's strike, but quite a few Jedi remained on Coruscant. The city-planet seemed to be holding its breath, waiting in tension for enemy fleets to dim the skies once more.

A commotion at the temple's entrance almost stirred things into action. The edict – as it seemed to be called – would quickly find its way onto the datapads of Jedi and Alliance denizens alike. In the cafeteria, breakfast interrupted, Cora held a partially eaten muffin in one hand and scrolled the screen of her datapad with the other.

There were names that she recognized, and even more that that she didn't. Quite a few had been well-established as Dark Jedi and Sith, while others were...Jedi who'd brushed with the Dark, or Sith who'd been redeemed. Kahlil Noble , the man who'd shown her unfathomable patience and been more of a father to her than her biological parent, was one of them.

Reading Thelma Goth 's name had Cora's face softening. She'd always been a gentle, softspoken thing – one who'd been privy to an unfortunate accident and subsequently went into exile. Was this fair to her, to be listed along with some of the galaxy's most heinous criminals? Was it fair to Kahlil, who'd proven himself redeemed and dedicated to the Light? Were some crimes too great to be forgiven, no matter how much penance once did?

How does one properly redeem themselves?

Cora's throat tightened. Thule had been a trial – captured by a Sith Lord, and kept by him –and it hadn't been her highest moment. Certainly, this Bernard of Arca would've called for her execution had her affair become public. Perhaps now, she understood how fortunate she'd been in the aftermath. That she'd been welcomed back to the Jedi, who'd helped to keep her from veering too sharply off the path.

Maybe she'd gotten off too easily.

There were more names on the list that were familiar from her times trawling the archives. Zaavik Perl , the betrayer. Darth Solipsis , a villain reborn. Damsy Callat , harborer of sithspawn. And-

Cora's gaze tightened on the grainy image of a Mirialian. Familiar, why did she look so familiar, she was…

Oh.

Her veins chilled to ice when the realization sank in. Sinestra – the Dark Jedi who'd attacked her on Lorta – had once been a Jedi? The name Halsia Myr didn't stir any poignant memories, but it didn't have to.

Cora discarded her muffin in the nearest trash receptacle, having lost her appetite.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

HUILA STATION, CENTRALITY

Each day, a small briefing was prepared and sent out to himself and other higher ups at Salacia. Not only did it contain information on the company itself, but news across the galaxy. It was important to stay on top of what was happening throughout the universe, if nothing else for sheer business purposes. The next battle meant more salvage for them to recover, or worse, evacuating employees out of the line of fire.

This morning he was sipping caf, just trying to ease into his day, scrolling through the messages that had come through overnight. Naturally, he had selected the briefing, opening it to read. Done with the normal business updates, he scrolled to the galactic updates and nearly choked on his caf when he read the message. Something about 'fallen' Jedi, including one Kahlil Noble .

Crimes:

• Betrayal of the Light
• The Murder of Innocents
• Perversion of Life and the Force (Sith Alchemy)
• Disturbance of the Dead's Peace
• Kidnapping
• Ritual Sacrifice of Innocent

None of this was a surprise to Judah.

"Should have included the time when this idiot punched me. "

Other names he didn't recognize, nor did he care. Frankly all the Jedi seemed guilty of murdering the innocent, but what he did know. Another sip of caf before closing the message. There were more important issues to worry about.

 

[Bernard]

A blinking anonymous message appeared on his communicator, waiting for him to notice:

We see great potential in you and agree that crimes should be punished as the law demands. Too many criminals walk free from Justice. If you need a cover, press X now. We'll be in touch.

Two intriguing identity profiles could materialize with a single button press, offering two choices.

Bernard scrolled back and forth on his communicator, re-reading the message for any hidden codes or cyphers. On his third attempt, he still caught nothing. The custom security scripts he'd gotten from Sarn didn't pick up anything malicious either, though it had been a few months since he'd gotten the latest security updates.

The choice he'd make had been clear from the moment he read it, and with his last concerns for security answered satisfactorily, all blockers got cleared.

He would not hide from the message. It was the truth he bore into this galaxy. All Darkness had to be destroyed, there could be no playing favourites.

Bernard thumbed the second option.

The second profile offered a cover identity for a meeting on Byss, complete with an unmarked transport for him to travel without a trace. Should too much heat come his way, a man of conviction would always be welcome for a righteous cause.

He plugged in the coordinates to the location of the unmarked transport, and let the astrogation computer of his X-Wing run the necessary calculations to get him there. Part of him had a bad feeling about it, part of him thought it was a trap. But then, the best way to deal with one was to spring it.

 

[Taresa Kae]

Tag: Bernard

On Byss, a world torn by conflicting ideals between the current benevolent governors and those who had left deep marks on the landscape, Bernard discovered an unmarked transport of Echani design—white, open, and clearly visible. Watching the fighter fly closer, there was no danger, only an opportunity to set things right.

Traditional Echani, honest and open by nature, had no use for hiding. In a small clearing, about a dozen Echani from the house of Kae waited. These survivors of Eshan's glassing by the Mandalorians and the wars that ravaged their homeworlds had seen no justice. As with the others, an Echani dressed in white stood among them, Taresa's force aura perfectly mimicking the same. She carried a traditional silver sword from the house of Kae on her back and a saber hilt, not hiding who she was, embodying judgment and the reason for their meeting.

Judgment of those who flaunted the Jedi code.

The group appeared genuine, free of deception. Taresa's facial surgery, mannerisms, and identity perfectly mirrored those of an Echani, an easy task for her being half Echani.

If Bernard approached, the group remained still, not reacting until he was within speaking range. No hostile movement was made. Their movements were deliberate; traditional Echani mainly communicated through body language, where words meant little, and small actions meant everything.

Everything here seemed genuine—that was the beauty of it.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Outfit: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber, Echo Stone | Tag: Lossa Aureus ​

“They’re trapped in their own fears and they don’t even see it.” Briana said, half mindlessly as Lossa took the datapad from her, hands slipping into the pockets of her trousers.

"They can dress it up as bravery, courage, duty, whatever word might make them sound and feel the most heroic, instead of like the cowards that they are. But..." Briana knew better, she'd seen first hand where that kind of rhetoric led, what extremist ideology produced.

Her father had wanted to create a new Galaxy too, a better Galaxy, one in which his family would be safe from the whims of the lightside and the dark by destroying the Force in its entirety. The movement had started out simple enough, but the methods became more extreme, more desperate. The ends always justified the means.

No matter how dark, no matter how depraved.

And Baros Sal-Soren , the man who once envisioned himself as his family's redeemer, what result did his deeds produce? Not the one of a righteous savior, but rather, he'd become the architect of their undoing. Her parents were in the ground, Brandyn’s world was reduced to the confines of his own home, Blaire was…Shiraya-knew-where.

And Lossa? Lossa…

Briana could only offer silent thanks to whatever stars had spared her cousin’s name from being found on that karkin’ list, too.

“...But vandalizing our own equipment isn’t going to change anything!" She huffed, feeling a new headache crack behind her eyes as she marched over to inspect the damage done. “The hell? Now we’re going to have to fix that.”

​

 

[Lossa Aureus]

Location: Aureus Estate - Naboo
Equipment: Jumpsuit and shin guards
Accessories: Bracelet, Echo Stone
Weapons: Lossa's Lightsaber, Turmoil - Lightsaber
Tags: Briana Sal-Soren

"Isn't it just tiring watching people, watching people uh. Ooooh. What's the word... " The mental voiced hummed as the words from Briana settled. Likely lost in her own line of thinking as the silence only granted her the moment to walk over to the transport to take out her frustrations on something that couldn't fight back. "Ah. Lash out. That's it. Lash out against those they brought in to make them look good. Then just, betraying them when things got hard?"

Her toes might have hurt at another time in her life. Would have simply broken with the effort of trying to kick the plate as she had done. There were people better than her on that list, and there were people far worse than her mentioned as well. But what made them worthy of being on that list? Their deeds? Didn't everyone that wielded a lightsaber strike down those who would do harm to people they were defending?

Her anger narrowed at the thought of her own name appearing on that list.

What had kept her off that list? Had she done nothing flashy enough? Kept a low profile? She had essentially turned her back on the Alliance for her time in the Outer Rim with the Trade League. But some of these names were homegrown. Some having been welcomed into the fold so many years back that there was no doubt of their allegiances.

Those names tied to cruel and unforgivable acts that still reveled in committing themselves to such atrocities surely had earned their place.

"It would just be easier if these kinds of troubles. Disappeared huh?" A grave thought that was only heard in her head thankfully. A feeling that was so deeply buried inside of her she might not have ever even pondered the notion.

But her mirror had teased the idea. And it was a tantalizing one.

"Fear doesn't stop people from action. Mobs don't listen to reason. And lives aren't fixed by saying sorry." Lossa seethed as she shook her head and looked to the plate. Feeling quite satisfied by the release of anger, where a touch of shame might have laced her mood otherwise, she was more annoyed about the chastising.

"But actions stop problems from rising."

She frowned to herself as she looked over the plate once more. Something she shouldn't have given in to hitting in the heat of the moment, but her head felt clearer for it. Still didn't change the fact someone would be pulled from their usual duties to do a systems check over the landing gear after her little fit.

"I'll. Get one of the crew to fix it. I'm sorry. This just. It feels like Romi all over again." She sighed, tilting her head back and clicking her tongue. "Like. What. What if it was your name on there? Or mine? Bri. People doing this kind of thing while everyone is already anxious and angry is how incidents happen. How innocent people get hurt."

"People that cause these problems should be erased."

Her own thoughts caused her to pause, blinking a few times as she tried to separate the ideas. Face shifting into silent shock at the idea forming in her mind.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Coruscant - Steps of the Jedi Temple
| Objective | ... Is this why they fight?

Mandalorians weren't exactly welcome here, and perhaps for good reason. After all, Jenn had been an enemy to the Jedi, merely a few months prior - an enemy with a measure of decency her peers sorely lacked, perhaps, but an enemy nonetheless. But, as much a Jenn hated Coruscant, she sometimes found her steps taking her back to the steps leading to the Jedi Temple proper. Never daring to approach it closely enough to request entry, and kept concealed beneath an ample cloak, yet simply... staring in quiet reverence.​

​

Today would be different. The commotion caused by the edict titillated the Ersansyr's curiosity, her steps taking her to the entrance of the Temple- closer than she had ever dared to approach before. Her brows furrowed, then, as she made her way down the list of names-​

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A familiar name called to all of her being, and her blood ran cold at the sight of it.​

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Damsy.​

​

A traitor to Jedi and Mandalorians alike, a woman borne of alchemy who walked an uncertain path steeped in darkness- and one of her oldest friends. Although the two of them had lost track of one another throughout the years, the Alor had never forgotten the kindness shown to her when first struggling with her changes. The genuine care behind the eyes of a woman she should have hated with every fiber of her being.​

​

Of all the crimes she was accused of, none brought more anger to the warrior of beskar and water than the condemnation of her very nature.​

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Harboring Perversions of Life and the Force (Sithspawn)​

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A snarl escaped her throat unbidden, scales forming around her eyes as the fabric of her gloves strained to contain her forming claws. So, that was it, then? A condemnation of the Sith's greatest victims, those whose very essence had been altered to fit the mad designs of one of their alchemists? Jenn may have been born a human, but for all of her insecurities, she was not ashamed of her nature. No, the siren was more than merely a Songbird of the Sith, but she did not hate what she had been made into - not anymore. For all of the trauma she had gone through as her very essence was twisted and perverted, the Mandalorian had made the conditions imposed unto her her own. ​

​

And here came a self-righteous would-be purifier, condemning her kind, and all those like her- for something they had never chosen?! It had been decades since she last seethed so ferociously, giving in to her anger so wholly, so thoroughly-​

​

The rapidly-shifting Ersansyr readjusted her cloak and stalked off, now painfully aware of the fate the Jedi may have in store for her if they sensed what was inherent to her nature. Not all of them could be as merciful and understanding as her greatest friend, it would seem.​

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The further her steps took her from the edict, the easier it became to control the resentment within her... if only because of the melancholy now draped over her. All but collapsing onto the steps leading to the Temple proper, she brought her claws to rest against her helm, uncaring of the eyes that might linger on her.​

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"Oh, Damsy... what happened to you?"​

​

Hers was but a whisper, suffused with worry.​

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