Public A Monument To Your Sins

[Marlon Sularen]

DARK EMPIRE
KAMPE, DEEP CORE

Within his private quarters within his Canyon Fortress on the Imperial-occupied Deep Core world of Kampe, Grand Admiral Marlon Sularen read over the manifesto that had been made by a certain individual who went by the name of Bernard of Acra. As he went over the manifesto, the doors leading into his office slid open with his subordinate Colonel Rackham entering the room. "Have you seen it sir?" he asked. "The manifesto from this so-called Bernard of Acra? Yeah i've seen it. I'm currently reading it as we speak." The Grand Admiral answered. "So, should we do anything about it?" Rackham asked again, somewhat concerned about this edict. "I'm sure the New Sith Order and the Dark Side Elite can handle this by their own. As far as i'm concerned this Bernard is merely going to be a thorn on our side." the Grand Admiral answered with confidence.

"How are you sure that this man poses no threat to the Empire, considering one of his targets is the Emperor himself?" Rackham inquired, still concerned about this simple manifesto. "A wise man once told me, that when waging war against your foes it is more preferable that you wield your weapons like a surgical knife instead of wielding it like an axe. To strike with precision and to slowly dissect your enemy until they are on their knees." Sularen answered.

"This Bernard of Acra, if that's even his name, is blinded by vengeance and fanaticism having gone as far as to make enemies within both the Empire and the Alliance. He is wielding an axe with the intention to destroy and annihilate, which will only make it easier for his very targets to predict his moves and counter them accordingly." Sularen explained. "In the end, this Bernard is nothing more then a pathetic broken man that has built a self-destructive path that will result in only his downfall and judging by the tone of this manifesto will walk down that path blindly unaware of what fate lies at the other end." The Grand Admiral finished.

"I thought you didn't believe in fate and destiny." Rackham answered. "I don't, but i can clearly see where this is going and it won't end well for this Bernard." Sularen retorted. "For now our priorities remain the same. Should this Bernard actually prove to be a threat to the Empire as you suggested, we will adjust our plans accordingly. Until then, little attention will be given to this man and his delusions, and i'm sure the Emperor and the rest of the Ruling Council will agree with me on that matter."

 

[Scour]

In the dimly lit chamber of his ship, The Kreature, Scour, the Gen'dai pirate captain, stood hunched over an organic systems console. The room pulsed with a faint bioluminescence, casting eerie shadows across the walls. The console itself was an intricate web of living vines and tendrils, intertwined with advanced technology, responding to his touch with soft, tactile pulses.

Suddenly, his data pad emitted a sharp chirp, cutting through the quiet hum of the ship. Scour's many eyes flicked towards the device, his massive, sinewy frame shifting as he reached for it. The message icon blinked urgently on the screen. As he accessed the message, Scour's expression shifted from curiosity to surprise, his eyes narrowing. The content revealed that he was once again a wanted individual. This was nothing new to him; as a notorious pirate, he had long grown accustomed to being hunted. But it was the reason that caught him off guard. The message detailed an ancient record from the Jedi Archives, identifying him as a former Jedi Knight, over 3000 years ago.

Scour's mind raced. His memories of that life were faint and fragmented, like distant echoes from another lifetime. He barely remembered the person he had been before drifting through the galaxy and enduring years in Mandalorian prisons. The archives still had him recorded after all this time. The thought both astonished and irked him. He took a deep breath, feeling the old stirrings of his former self—a younger, idealistic Jedi who had left the Order behind, disillusioned by its rigidity. How could the archives still hold onto his past, a past he himself had almost entirely forgotten? The persistence of the Jedi Order never ceased to amaze him.

A slow, humorless smile spread across his face as he pondered the implications. If any overzealous Jedi were to seek him out, they would find only death.

 

[Zaavik Perl]

Holonet scans of the edict flickered against the darkness of a clandestine hideout. An apathetic, igneous gaze was visible from the veil of shadow. Pupils trailed repetitively from left to right, inattentively pouring over the feed of replies. A metal finger tapped the screen, scrolling back to his position on the list once again. Crimes he'd committed, crimes he hadn't, and so many omitted. To think, all he'd endeavored for condensed down to bullet points, and they still managed to forget the best parts.

"Heh," Zaavik scoffed, an inkling of mirth cutting the indifference. Memories resurfaced of a time when he and Bernard had sat on the New Jedi Council together. It almost evoked longing — the Shadow of Knowledge and Sentinel of Harmony. "Look at us now," Zaavik murmured to himself, facetious in his reminiscence.

His eyes drifted, rereading the words of condemnation:

There will be peace, but not for them.

May their spirits find no rest in the world beyond.

"No," he dismissed, rethinking his previous remark. "You haven't changed at all."

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tags: Thal Mantis , Braze , Efret Farr

​

"Do you think someone hurt him?" Braze asked, glancing at Jasper. "Who do you think it was?"

"If we're talking about a Jedi who's seen a number of wars..." Jasper noted with a frown, "...I don't imagine it's just about himself. Perhaps its the fact that he's still standing that's caused this."

And all of the people he no doubt lost in the process. Jasper knew first hand that experience from the Second Great Hyperspace War. It was certainly enough to drive the strongest willed men to do terrible things. Perhaps that was why he chose to step away from violence for a while to focus on humanitarian efforts.

To not lose himself after it was all said and done.

“I don’t believe that one’s birth determines their actions. I have been at the mercy of men simply doing what they thought was best and correct. I wonder if their penance will ever undo their wickedness done to others.”

"Sometimes it doesn't," he shrugged. "But there are those who can twist the hands of others. Whatever the case is, we all feel the weight of our own actions. It's hard to say if penance ever truly comes for those who have done wrong. Some dedicate their lives to making things right. Maybe that's better than hiding from what you've done... Many of these names have only chosen to dig their holes deeper."

He wasn't sure. Jasper liked to think that he had done his best to avoid truly evil actions. But then again, he had a biased perspective. After the trial of Romi Jade , he was always on edge about what he might be capable of. She was under the influence of Sith Alchemy, but still...

"I'm not sure what the story is for a lot of these people on the list," Jasper sighed. "We may even be forced to come to blows with these men and women. I only worry that being judge, jury, and executioner will push us to overstep. We're not hunters. We act in the moment and do what must be done for the safety of our communities... Galactic Alliance or otherwise... and strike down only where we must."

The Sentinel of Harmony tucked his hands into his pockets.

"But that's just my thoughts on the matter," he concluded. "The truth is what you make of it."

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Jasper Kai'el

​

Braze nodded gently, listening to his master speak. "What do you think he means by 'mercy'?" Braze asked curiously. He couldn't picture what that might mean to someone like Bernard. There were a few on that list who seemed to have made strides towards a better way of life.

His eyes scanned the list again, noting the names and wondering about their stories. "Is mercy about redemption or simply sparing someone? How do we balance justice with compassion?" Braze mused, hoping for Jasper's insight to shed light on the concept.

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

A MONUMENT TO YOUR SINS

"Senator Grimmin, a message from Coruscant has just arrived." The silver protocol droid's voice was audible as it made its way towards the Trade Federation's Representative in his designated state-room. Despite being an emotionless machine, the droid appeared slightly unsettled and taken aback, which was rather peculiar to the Neimoidian who offered a quick glance away from the window overlooking the Federation Stronghold of Skako.

"What is the message," Lodd replied calmly, taking a seat to process the urgent message he had just received. The gravity of the situation was evident, especially since Coruscant, the heart of the galaxy, was rumored to be facing an imminent siege in the coming days.

Such news had come directly from the Imperial Ruling Councilor, Nute Griimda whose information about the Dark Empire was always accurate given his control over transportation and industry.

"At 33:00 Hours this morning, a message was stamped on the New Jedi Order's Coruscant Temple. It appears a particular individual by the name of Bernard of Arca has declared an offical edict or war against a long-list of individuals ranging from the Current Galactic Emperor to the Shield of the Jedi for their supposed betrayal of the Light Side." The droid responded promptly, efficiently condensing the message to expedite the communication process.

The Neimoidian found himself in a quandary, torn between conflicting thoughts. On one hand, the prospect of another individual with the power to wield the Force wreaking havoc was deeply unsettling.

On the other hand, this situation presented a potential opening to push for additional legislation within the senate. Perhaps this could be an opportunity to advocate for the passing of more laws that would grant the Federation the ability to strengthen and expand their military forces to deal with these types of organization running around.

"We can't allow another force wielding maniac to destory worlds and entire cities, over some religious babble. Such actions would undoubtedly have a detrimental impact on our financial gains. It is imperative that we transmit a communication through the holonet, denouncing this person as a terrorist instigator and an agitator of riots. Urge the Federal Assembly to put out wanted posters, anything to stop them."

The Neimoidian explained, grabbing a glass of wine from the adjacent table. It was imperative for them to take prompt action against this person before they acquired knowledge of the Federation's interactions with the Sith Order.

 

[Thal Mantis]

​

Thal seemed rather callous about the entire affair. His arms crossed, his face went from it's generally neutral expression, to his eyes narrowing.

"I hope our moral high ground gives the piles of dead these people have killed, including one of our Masters, solace. I hope they feel sorry enough to make up for ritual sacrifice and murder."

Thal knew in that instance, that part of him would never really, truly forgive those that wronged him. But he knew that he'd always relish, in some deep, dark part of him when he slaughtered those at the Red Tower. They did not offend again. No more Deathless was created. No more slaves were pitted against each other there.

No more pain could be gathered from that place. No more blood would be spilled on those sands. Perhaps that was more merciful than him forgiving them. More justice. He looked downward, and turned on his heel, leaving the Jedi and the other Padawan. Thal's usual anger resonated, the deep-seated ocean of hate in his mind more prominently displayed through the force than before. He stopped, looking upwards at the temple. A monument, indeed.

"You say not to be judge, jury and executioner. But everytime we turn a blade on someone, we do just that."

Thal's eyes wandered around the ceiling of the temple. A feeling of betrayal washed over him. Or perhaps realization that not everything was as it seemed.

Jasper Kai'el

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Coruscant, Jedi Temple
Tags: Thal Mantis , Braze

​

"I hope our moral high ground gives the piles of dead these people have killed, including one of our Masters, solace. I hope they feel sorry enough to make up for ritual sacrifice and murder."

"Ask them yourself," Jasper sighed. "See if they think of the crimes of their youth with jubilance."

He let the young man storm off. There was little more to be said that would change his mind, and it certainly wasn't Jasper's place to change it. It was hard for many to see past what they felt. Kahlil had done terrible things... but he had been a child with no other choice, the shadow of a monster looming over him ready to grab his throat. Jedi were too quick to see the galaxy in black and white. Jasper understood survival well. Petty thieves stole to eat, spice dealers turned to drugs when they had no way to get by. Sometimes the only way to survive was to dance to the beat of someone elses music.

But to those who broke free and struggled to uplift and right their wrongs? It was hard to say what was penance enough. Those people no doubt suffered every day of their lives reliving the hell they caused.

Even so, maybe that wasn't enough. Jasper didn't know. He didn't want to be the one who knew.

"Is mercy about redemption or simply sparing someone? How do we balance justice with compassion?"

"Being spared judgement?" he shrugged. "Can't exactly waltz in and kill a member of the Jedi Council...." the knight spared a glance to the door. "Balancing Justice and Compassion is a tricky act. We always hope that planetary laws will punish effectively, but... I'd rather not dwell on this any longer. Those who must atone will, those who need to pay for their crimes will be punished. This? This is obsession. Obsession leads to terrible things. I only hope the next list that arrives doesn't have the names of children."

And with that, Jasper departed.

 

[Lestra Thairk]

Lestra stared at the digital copy of the edict whilst being on the Vonnuvi ship, humming and ahhing as he looked over a fellow Padawn's shoulder. That was super a lot of words if he was being honest to himself. This was clearly something quite important from how the other Padawans were whispering away to each other. Some of them seemed worried about it. Hm...He leaned over the shoulder to get a better look at the datapad.

So thatsa a lot of words...what's that one...her ticks?...Whys this guy caring about someone's ticks? "betrayed its Grace?" Huh? Someone called Grace has ticks?...Feel sorry for her...Forfeit?...Four Feet?...She has four feet as well? Aww man. I feel...erh...really sorry for her. That's a lotta shoes she needs. And socks. "There will be...peas but not for them" Makes sense...Ticks ain't gonna like peas...speaking of peas, I'm hungry. I should go find some food.

With that, the wee Bairn headed off to get himself some snacks, breaking out into a sprint, whilst at the same time feeling sorry for this "Grace" girl...It was probably a shame that he couldn't really read that well.

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Thal Mantis Jasper Kai'el

Braze squinted at Thal Mantis, his nose wrinkling as he felt his hackles raise in response. As a developing empath, he could feel the waves of hate and festering anger emanating from Thal. He couldn't resist the urge to roll his jade green eyes. Obviously, this other Echani didn't study Form Zero or its aspects. The goal wasn't to draw your blade unless necessary, emphasizing nonviolent solutions and negotiation. Thal seemed to relish in his anger and hate. Braze could sense that much, though he didn't know Thal's history. One thing Braze knew was that he didn't want to emulate this older Padawan. The self-righteous virtue signaling was very reminiscent of those who willingly plunged themselves into the dark side. He was clearly jaded and bitter over something.

Braze's thoughts drifted to the Sith he had encountered. The simmering resentment, the eagerness to embrace negativity—it was a familiar pattern. Thal's demeanor mirrored that of Sith apprentices, caught in a cycle of anger and hatred, justifying their actions with a distorted sense of justice. Braze resolved to avoid such a path, understanding that true strength lay in compassion and restraint, not in the reckless indulgence of dark emotions.

Braze would have loved to challenge him, but before he could, the older Padawan stormed off in a tizzy. Braze was well aware of the childishness of it all and sometimes found amusement in such antics. Yet, it was a small revelation that this childish behavior was reminiscent of many of the Sith he had encountered. They often devolved into self-indulgent, rude, and contemptuous creatures.

The pattern was clear: unchecked anger and resentment led to a path Braze was determined to avoid, reaffirming his commitment to restraint and compassion. Braze would have to remember this echani; he did seem like a poor excuse for a padawan.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"What I did, I did for myself. There is no denying that much. To live, to survive. Regardless of the circumstances."

Kahlil glanced over the list from behind Jasper Kai'el , Braze , and Thal Mantis . He gave them a brief smile before he passed on down the hallway, idly lifting his #1 dad mug up to sip from. "The Silver Jedi made their decision on my punishment, however. And I can't say I approve of outright damning anyone like this. Trust your own instincts on whether someone is worthy of forgiveness or not, but damning someone to death and hoping they never find peace is very unbecoming of a Jedi."

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

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

The Aureus Estate
Naboo

It’d been over a week, nearly two, since her and Lossa’s return from rescuing Romi out of the clutches of the Dark Empire, and within those two weeks, the cousins hadn’t talked about it.

Not. One. Word.

Truth be told, Briana was grateful. Saying nothing was easier than saying the wrong thing - easier than trying to wade through the hard questions, to try and find an answer for what they’d experienced - for what they’d seen. Namely, why no other Jedi had appeared to try and stop the ritual the Sith performed to pervert Tython? Why no one had come to try and save the Ashlan Priest, or Romi. Why, when there was an entire order of capable Jedi, had it only been the two of them amidst the void, with no reinforcements in sight?

Lossa, it seemed, was equally content—or perhaps equally tormented—to let the silence stretch on. Their return to a mountain of duties, coupled with the looming threat of a confrontation between the Dark Empire and the Galactic Alliance, conveniently justified their mutual avoidance of the topic.

A sigh escaped Briana's lips, the weight of fatigue settling behind her eyes as they flicked methodically over the ship's manifest for the thousandth time, trying to bring her focus back to hand and away from the undercurrent of her thoughts.

Lossa and whomever else she’d roped in to help her - willing or otherwise - would be loading a few different transports with as many refugees as they could hold, flying them away from their displaced homeworld for an indeterminate amount of time.

Possibly for good.

Doubtless Lossa would appreciate it much to discover she wasn’t prepared for those refugees and missing half of the supplies she needed because her cousin couldn’t manage to get her crap sorted. Briana exhaled again, pinching the bridge of her nose, the datapad's soft glow casting a blue pallor over her features as the lines slowly started to blur together ...

Just before an alert chimed.

Curious.

Pausing mid-scroll and with a flick of her thumb, Briana summoned the message, her eyes narrowing at the list of names unfurling across the screen. A crease formed between her brows as she continued to read, her lips pulling into a deep frown. Some of the names, undoubtedly, had strayed far from the path of the light and had earned their place there. But to see certain Jedi branded as traitors and marked… by another Jedi, no less…

“Loss -” Briana called up the loading ramp of the ship, hoping her voice would carry to wherever her cousin had gone off to, and draw her out. When she didn’t get an immediate answer, Briana yelled again. “Come on, hustle already! You’re gonna wanna see this.”

​

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

A saying for which there was no one soul who fit the description, nonetheless driving the cursory upturn of one side of her lips as hazel eyes scanned the digitised list of names that reduced all their deeds to dispassionate bullet points, and found her own. Underneath it, acts for which she held nothing so useless as regret; all was a necessity to bring forth the birth of a new galactic future.

And if death should come for her in the process?

Inconvenient.

 

[Thalia Senn]

​

Oh Bernard. She'd heard rumors of what he'd done. She saw the group of Jedi gathered around the flimsi manifesto hammered into the wall of the Jedi Temple. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach, one she had felt since her youth any time she was around so many Jedi. The self-judgement, the self-hate. She pushed her way through the group to look at the list. Relief was quickly followed by shame. She had not made his list, though she should have. It felt disgusting that she had been relieved.

"What's happened to you after all these years?" She remembered the young Jedi Knight, Bernard of Arca, as a strong and capeable fighter - one of the Order's best in its early days, but also one of its most troubled. He had been like her, eager to prove himself as a Jedi...Often to to extremes. She'd heard rumors of his disappearance. That he'd taken the Barash Vow. That Dagon Kaze and the others had removed him from the Order. Whatever had happened...It had only made his zeal for what was 'Right' even stronger.

She had to find him. Before he did something he'd truly regret.

​

​

 

[Thal Mantis]

​

Thal stopped when Kahlil Noble appeared. His eyes cast downward, then back up to the Master Jedi. He turned his heels, squaring his body with his.

"When you killed those people for the rituals, supposedly- do you think you'll ever be able to make that up? Ever be able to make that right?"

Thal wasn't asking Kahlil about Kahlil. Thal Mantis, an abandoned child, a bastard child at that, had left a trail of bodies to survive. Violence was how he lived. But he could not comprehend a ritual. But the irony was that Thal's rituals were under lights, sand, and Holoscreens broadcasting all over the Outer Rim.

Kahlil's rituals were with Sith magick and sorcery. Rituals all the same, between the two. They were remarkably similar- Silver Jedi rescuing them, giving them both a new lease on life. While Kahlil had more or less conquered his past, Thal had not.

And maybe, Thal never would.

 

[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

She hadn't been counting the days like her cousin. But knew well enough that the eventuality of the need to discuss what had happened would rear it's ugly head at some point.

But she was enjoying the time between for as long as either of them were either too afraid to address it, or similarly, were just as content to let sleeping ack-dogs lie for the while. They had certainly danced around the topic a number of times now. An offhanded comment that went forcibly unnoticed at a gathering. Certain messages on the holo's sitting unopened and ignored because it could force the topic.

That didn't mean it wasn't affecting either of them in some way. Lossa herself had been at odds with how to handle the talking portion of everything after the fact. That familiar lingering feeling in the back of her mind present as she tried to keep herself centered.

Already having gone over the topic of her connection with the dark side and the slippery slope that meant for her continuing to act as a Head of the Jakku Enclave.

All of this inner conflict with the lingering mirror of herself had driven her to the edge of her patience. Hearing her own voice condemning every little action. Comparing what she did to someone else in how it might affect others. Like her worries and fears had been given a space inside her head to literally vocalize themselves beyond just merely being a thought. Rest was something that came with it's own troubles.

Aside from being so close to the predicted due date, she now had the misfortune of hearing herself second guess everything. How it could have been done better. How much she needed to practice. How she needed to just be like Briana.

Rubbing her eyes now as her boots scuffed against the transports deck plating. Following behind a crew member she had recruited from the Rimward Trade League after the Sith had begun to move in. Many of the people she had casually worked alongside had come closer to the core seeking work, and this was an opportunity she had jumped on.

"Always the opportunist when it benefits you. But never the one to be responsible." That ever present manifest of her darker thoughts lilted. The Skiptown had at one point had a damaged internal plate because of this very voice that haunted her thoughts and actions. So fed up that the only silence she had found was inflicting pain on herself.

Lossa wasn't so lucky this time around though with how impulsively she could act.

She stood in the passageway between the cargo hold and the loading ramp, staring down the amber eyed illusion of her face as it sneered at her. Smug in it's own satisfaction of working on her nerves. She stood sidelong in the walkway, head turned to face herself in the reflective surface as it twisted before slipping into nothing. A tired sigh passing before she flinched.

"- hustle already! You’re gonna wanna see this.”

"Must be pretty important to call us over huh? Waddle on padawan! Go meet with her holy knight-ness." Her own voice cackling before silence returned. Turning finally as a few of the crewman turned to greet her, watching her plod down the ramp.

"Oh shut up, I can only walk so fast anymore." Her tone a little sharper than she intended but not wanting to draw attention to realizing it. She loved her cousin dearly. Briana had been nothing but outstanding in every capacity for as long as Lossa had known her. Understanding, patient, kind, loving. All of that and more.

But feth it was infuriating at time.

"Whatcha got?" Setting aside her own feelings of frustration and lacking to glance between Briana's face and the display to read. Noting it wasn't quite as short a read as she had hoped, her hand propped against her hip as she settled in. Eyes scanning the list slowly and brow furrowing with each detail she noted. Unable to stop that arch of her brow at the realization that the man they had fought had once been something other than a dark sider.

"I... Feth." A rush of different emotions flitting through her at the sight of some familiar names, and not entirely sure how to feel about seeing all this aired out for the galaxy. Her hand coming to her face to ease the tension she felt behind her eyes as she took a few pacing steps away only to return and sharply point at the message. "With everything going on. With tensions like they are, someone decides to get on their... "

Her frustration boiled over as she groaned and growled. Unable to find the words to express how irritating it was to see someone spurn others on with what she equated to ignorance. To self important ignorance of grander issues than seeking penance.

Had the Alliance and it's people not already had enough of it's overinflated sense of duty and need for justice with their pursuit of Romi Jade?

"Stupa. Fethin stupa bantha poodoo." Her mind was spiraling. The calm of her mind no longer that placid pond but a raging torrent as she wondered just how someone could decide to take matters into their own hands. Those few steps having only stoked the fire in her, wanting to grab the device and throw it against the ground to remove the offense from her sight.

A moment's thought to even reaching out towards Briana in anger kept her from acting, instead moving to the landing gear of the ship and kicking the cover plate with enough force to leave a dent.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Kahlil paused as he glanced back to Thal Mantis . He was quiet for a moment.

"No. But you never stop trying anyway. Some day, though, you'll be able too forgive yourself."

When and if Thal could, though, was going to be up to him to find. He gave an understanding nod before he left the trio.

Jasper Kai'el | Braze

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

COMFEAR HEADQUARTERS // CARLAC

Sequestered in his office, Aerarii Tithe poured over his morning briefing material. Hundreds of bureaucratic sycophants worked through the night to craft datapads and holocubes for the Imperial Treasurer about innumerable news stories, upcoming events and matters of importance. The drones laboured and debated every word choice, the colours of margins, and the order in which to present the documents on his desk.

For all their hard work, Tithe only read the updates pertinent to his personal investments.

But an intelligence briefing outside his fiduciary interests had caught his interest. Bernard of Arca, widely agreed to be the most respected member of the New Jedi Order past or present, had issued a manifesto. Tithe read the document with interest, pouring over the charges against the current Jedi leadership and their demonstrated inaction.

The Aargauun had himself held the NJO accountable for their failing while in elected office. But it seemed those lessons had been forgotten. A divided Jedi were now at risk of losing Coruscant.

Tithe placed the datapad on a small pile at the end of his desk, signalling that the matter was to be returned to higher authorities for consideration, before turning his attention to a briefing on the proposed further loosening of shell company laws on the tax haven of Aduba-3.

 

[Rik Perris]

Residential Wing
New Jedi Order Temple
Coruscant

He hadn't ventured outdoors yet this day, and the din of gathering at the threshold to the temple hadn't reached his ears this far from the entrance; Rik Perris was consumed in the routine work of maintenance and tuning of his gear. There was no if, only when.

But the feelings that growing conglomeration of Alliance Jedi added to the local environment wound into a knot with the steadily increasing unease that seemed to bake itself into the very edifice of the temple. The more it went on, the more it drew him out of his work, until the Corellian set the cloth aside, rose, and clipped the most recent item of maintenance - his lightsaber - back into place where it belonged, and made for the door.

It was only when he had just stepped outside of his quarters, however, that his comm chimed. Fishing the device out of his pocket, he unlocked the screen and saw the first several words of the post that the notification gave him before he would tap it - a thing that stopped him entirely in his tracks.

The names below belong to heretics, liars, thieves...

His brow furrowed slightly.

"What the f--" His words died as he tapped the notification, and his screen filled with the damning list of... exactly what it said on the tin, in a manner of speaking. Some of these names, he didn't know from a hole in the wall. "--oh, well, shit."

Others he'd recognize nominally from when he was a fresh, young, and idealistic knight before his departure, but some had come on his radar in recent times:

➢ A son of none other than the indelible stain that was Darth Carnifex, and the husband of Grandmaster Valery Noble herself, who she had neglected to advertise even having on the day of their first meeting, allowing him to make an utter fool of himself, having flirted unabashedly with a married woman. Leaving him to stew on those realisations as each came to him over the initial weeks of his trialling return to the Order, and no small amount of frustration, if not low anger, feeling that his conscience, his convictions, had been toyed with at the time.​

​

The experience had irrevocably altered how he might otherwise have seen such a high-ranking woman in the Order, and by extension coloured his view of the Order itself. Made him more aware of its intricacies... it was becoming increasingly apparent the more time he spent within the company of Alliance Jedi that there might be more of an incongruence between him and what the Order was now, than there was with the one he'd left.​

➢ Nouqai Veil , a girl he had been slated to spend some time on. He had been made aware of her particulars ahead of time, as he was with every darkly wayward youth brought under the care of the Order that the Council had sent his way. He had the patience for it, the strength of will to resist any pull they might have, and should they need handling, the strength of body and Force to do so. But most of all, the strength of conviction in the Light. There was no room for the Darkness within it.​

​

➢ Balun Dashiell , a boy he had recently encountered having only just used the Dark Side frivolously to help another test some technology, of all things. So misguided and in this environment. With the reality of an attack looming over their heads. When the Temple should have been on high alert, at the very least.​

​

Rik pulled his attention away from the list and glanced in the direction of where the entryway to the Temple would be, a sigh in his throat. He glanced back down at his comm device, and navigated to another thing that had been weighing on him, a letter left open from the moment he had first read it the other day. Scanning it through for not even the second or third time, he released the terse sigh, pocketed the device, and retreated back into his room to finish his interrupted work.

No if. Only when.

 

[Thal Mantis]

​

Thal didn't seem upset by the answer, but not happy about it either. More like a grim reminder that he was not going to be in a position ever really to "fix" himself ever. Perhaps that was his struggle in life, beyond what he had already endured. His arms remained crossed when the Master walked away, leaving Thal alone as the other Jedi left him.

He turned his back to the other Jedi, and faced the notice again. Bernard , whoever he was, had stirred something fierce in Thal. Only time would tell if he took the notice as a warning, a thing to avoid, or a path that he was leading down.

Only time would tell.

However, Thal was not without manners.

"Thank you, Master Noble."

Kahlil Noble