Faction [Foundation] The Conclave on Crait: The Splintering of the Jedi

[Mother Askani]

902 ABY | Conclave on Crait

​

The salt plains of Crait stretched endlessly in every direction, a haunting illustration of how desolation and beauty can work together. Beneath the faint glow of its sole star, the white salt flats gleamed like frost, broken only by jagged outcroppings of red soil deep beneath the fragile crust. Recent rains had left behind a thin, glass-like layer of water, turning the entire expanse into an ethereal mirror. Every step, every movement, echoed twice—above and below—creating an uncanny sense of reflection that seemed to demand introspection.

After events on Hapes X-X-X

After the burning of Kashyyyk X-X-X

The Force call to summon Jedi to Crait was no coincidence; with all that had transpired recently, there was disillusionment amongst their ranks, some simply looking for a way to help; there had to be others. Those who received it—a call unlike any other, reverberating through the currents of the Force, urgent and undeniable. This was no simple plea, no gentle whisper of intuition. It was a Force call, a rare and formidable technique used to summon..

Askani had used the Synaptic Amplifier not to summon them but to amplify her connection to the Force, anchoring her will in the galaxy’s very fabric. Her call had reached them all, whomever would listen, spanning light-years, transcending barriers of space and time. For those who heard it, resistance was futile. The call was not a command but a profound beckoning, an impression of truth so compelling that it’d pull at your very essence.

When the call reached a Jedi, it came not as words but as a cascade of vivid imagery, a montage of visions that seared into their consciousness with the weight of a revelation. A golden fire was the first and most striking image—a flame that neither consumed nor diminished, burning eternally in the void. It spoke to them without words, a presence that pressed against their minds, warm yet insistent, urging them forward.

Then came the stark white salt flats of Crait, stretching endlessly beneath a pale sky. The serene beauty of the planet was juxtaposed with images of chaos—civil unrest spilling into war, great ships falling from the heavens in fire and smoke, and the desperate faces of countless beings caught in the crossfire.

Finally, the visions shifted to the ruins of an ancient Jedi temple, its once-proud spires reduced to jagged remnants. Ash drifted through the air like snow, settling over the shattered stones. The temple seemed infinite, its corridors stretching endlessly, every corner filled with shadows of the past. It was a haunting reminder of what had been lost and a dire warning of what might yet come.

These visions were not merely images but sensations. The heat of the golden fire, the chill of the salt flats, the acrid taste of ash on the wind—all felt as though they were happening in the present. For those who received the call, the experience was both overwhelming and inescapable.

The Jedi who answered the summons found themselves drawn to Crait not by curiosity but by an unshakable conviction that their presence was required. The Force itself seemed to echo with urgency, as if every step they took toward the planet brought them closer to encountering something they could not yet comprehend. A decision?

The Jedi had been called to convene; they needed to.

----​

Yet, even as the Foundation fights to drive the Dark Empire from the Core, another battle creeps upon them all—echoes of a Jedi Civil War. For years, the New Jedi Order has been bound to the Galactic Alliance, entrenching itself within its power structure, some believing has become a part of a system weighed down by political entanglements. But many Jedi, especially the Foundation's Jedi, reject this path. They are some who believe the Jedi should stand against a government that's corrupted by bureaucracy and full of contradictions. They'd argue that the Alliance, while not as brutal as some other factions, is another form of control—one that prioritizes its own authority over the needs of the people.

What began as mere ideological debates could potentially turn into all-out conflict. Jedi who once trained together, fought together, and swore to protect the same people now picking opposite sides of an impending war.

Spoiler: OOC Note, just some added context

This is open to Jedi, especially those within the Foundation or allies of it; If outside of those groups please ask. Just to clarify, she did share the vision of the Burning Truth with those who received the call and chose to participate. This thread is suppose to be one of the moments when Jedi make a choice, and decide to openly participate in rebellion. This is for those Jedi who have witnessed everything that's transpired, feel a bit disenchanted with the current big institutions, and are compelled to find a way to do something. Please make sure it aligns with your character before jumping in. Keep this on track please. Dialogue, questions, etc are all encouraged. There's no rush

-----

"What have I sacrificed? Everything..."
​

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Crait
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Equipment: Crossguard Lightsaber, Hydrangea Moonblade (concealed)
Tag: Mother Askani | Briana Sal-Soren

Lily came to Crait curious. She held no convictions on what was the correct way to be a Jedi. She was still a Padawan, she was still trying to understand that path herself. In fact, she was not sure that she would ever truly understand what it meant to be a Jedi. The Order in general, it was vague, ambiguous and deeply routed in religion. Something that was purely up for interpretation and not a set view. However, she came to Crait, she wished to hear the voices of the Jedi there. To understand what was being said and where people wished to move next.

It was important to take in voices from those who held countering opinions to your own.

There was a lot of concern on how this meeting would go, Lily knew tensions were high. The Sith were growing in numbers again and currently only the Galactic Alliance was standing in their way. Whether or not they were doing the best job or being the most successful at it. That was another question. They were what they could in the face of danger. Lily was curious after everything she had been through and everything she had seen. Lily was curious what the meeting would cover and how they would handle the debate while also dealing with the Sith.

She was curious to see who would be leading these debates and who would seek to handle things.

 

[Aron Brood]

Location: Crait
Tags: Open

"Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable."​

Like all Empires, the gears of the Galactic Alliance were greased with blood.

For Aron, The Hapes Crisis had been a peek under the hood. The Equal Rights Act had passed, and what good did it do? Queen Mother Kha'la Daaray wiped her ass with it and the Alliance stood by and did nothing. Gender apartheid remained entrenched, and the politicians of the Alliance turned a blind eye. Their military contracts kept the creds flowing and their coffers grew, so what did they care? Even if they had been compelled to action, their political imaginations were as shallow as they were ineffective. The recent Alliance proceedings confirmed as much. The Crimson Veil uprising was made inevitable, yet senators were too busy wringing their hands to acknowledge the blood on them. Moralism without the morals, peak centrism in all its flaccid glory.

And with ineffective politics came disillusionment. The NJO's marriage to the Alliance made them complicit and Aron could no longer be a part of it. He vowed to stand on his morals, to be proactive. When the call of the Foundation came, he answered. He'd made his choice. Whether it was the Dark Empire, the Sith Order, or the Galactic Alliance, the gears of Empire couldn't be cleansed—they needed to be smashed.

So, Aron was glad to come to Crait. The Jedi weren't meant to sit on the sidelines. Things were coming to a head, decisions had to be made, and he relished it. He stood calm and resolute, listening intently as the discussions began.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

ANSWERING THE CALL ON THE SECOND RING
Sanctuary Island
Main House

Caltin was busy talking to and arranging things on his old Island home on Alderaan, now doubling as the temporary “Shadow Temple” or “Sanctuary Temple” as many were calling it. He was busy organizing, but also ensuring to many that all would be okay. This was not the Shadow Temple, but it would be for now, the refugees now in and around the Kattada Temple as well as the Veridian Enclave thanks to the gracious efforts of Coren Starchaser , as well as Tirin Raene . Master Matsu Ike was also her normal, incredibly hospitable and helpful self.

He was also busy sending out feelers, and following every lead he could to keep the promise he made to young Amelia Amadis .

It was still a somber mood and feeling throughout the island, but there was a tiny sense of “normalcy” starting to settle in. There were some Jedi coming in to learn, many coming in to offer help, but there was no need. There was a desire to keep this “low key”. To keep the sheer amount of in and outcoming were a problem that would be addressed here.

Then it hit him.

No, not some great idea.

Imagery.

VIVID.OVERLAPPING imagery. It came so fast, so powerfully that it forced the big man to a seat. There is no doubt that anyone viewing this would understand his feeling nauseated and weak as well as a combination of both. It was only a moment that Vanagor was seated before he pushed himself up to standing again. A cacophony of rapid blinking and body swaying brought concern from everyone gathered.

Immediately they surrounded him, trying to get the big man to sit down.

“Sit down Master Vanagor.”

“Take it easy.”

“Master Starborn, can you heal him?”

I’m not sick, or injured… Where is Craig? His answer was swift, curt, and powerful, almost forcing back everyone around him. It was only their knowledge that he was not violent to his own that kept them from doing so. Master Starborn was feeling the effects of her recent “enhancement”. She was not reading his thoughts, but she felt what he was experiencing.

“‘Craig’? Haven’t seen him in weeks.”

“The Force is calling him elsewhere.”

Caltin then threw out a hand, and two fingers in acknowledgment of her assertion. She was right on the proverbial money. I will be alright. A few mindful thoughts and deep breaths allowed him to gain his footing. Slowly, even those that were showing concern were slowly taking steps back.

The Force is calling me to Crait.

“That saltbox?” Master Siasides quipped ever so “eloquently”.

“What would bring you out there?’

I guess I will find out when I get there. I cannot explain it, but I need to go. Walking over to one of the wall mounted Comm-panels and pressing a couple of buttons.This is Master Vanagor, could you have my ship “Spectre” brought up and ready?

“Right away, sir.” The Launchmaster on the other end answered. This wasn’t the Shadow Temple, but there was still staff and they were still going to carry on and endure.

Arrangements were made, and the ship was in the launch. “”BB-55” his astromech had the ship’s systems up and ready and before long, they were off. It was a bit of a long trip, but that did not matter as once they were in hyperspace, Caltin went into meditation. He hated meditating as more often than not, he just fell asleep, but this was important. Vanagor had to figure out the meaning behind this calling. It was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, and that concerned him.

What also concerned him was the amount of Nerf rump roast he had brought with him. For some reason. Why the need to do that? Oh well. Craig must have been hungry.

Eventually on approach, the ship dropped out of hyperspace in a snap of light and entered the planet’s atmosphere. Caltin, an expert pilot and knowledgeable enough to be considered a “Jedi Ace” (though he was not one officially), the rather small planet was not much to look at in the way of scenery but there was a specific destination he needed to reach.

The old Rebel Outpost. Heh, new door.

I forgot that there was a Temple here.

It had been a long time, but Caltin had been here before. Then it was a terrible, destructive period where again the universe would potentially fall to tyranny, but it did not. That was then, though, now as the ship set down, repulsorlifts sending salt everywhere, Caltin took a deep breath and stood, walking out of the cockpit and opening the loading ramp.

Wanna come, BB?

Astromech’s could not speak “Basic” those who understood “Droidspeak” did not have this concern, but even if you did not, this little ball’s reaction was clearly “NoHOOOOOOO”. Trying, and failing to hold back a laugh, Caltin stepped down the ramp and onto the surface, the Temple in front of him. It was old, but was still majestic. He felt nothing but the Light Side, but was still on his guard. A feeling he had not felt in a long time.

Walking in, he looked around. One eyebrow up. Interesting. Connel will be here when he can.

Mother Askani • Lily Decoria • Aron Brood
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Vodet]

Jedi liked their conclaves. That was their whole thing.

The No-Shells were interesting. He had no ill will against them, even the Jedi ones. But he wanted to keep an eye on them. Sometimes they helped, sometimes they came up short, with the galaxy as a whole. They wanted to keep themselves relevant, to push their religion. And he had no qualms with it. They were just, doing their thing?

The Yinchorri had arrived, and taken his time getting off the transport that the Foundation provided for those without their own ship. Did he have to take up twice as many seats? Yes. Was it something unfamiliar to him? No.

One step, then another. He would make his way to the gathering, and be probably one of, if not the actual, last person to arrive.

When they began speaking, he;d listen. And watch. Until then? His large, clawed hands were slowly whittling a piece of driftwood he had taken with him, it was originally from Kattada, and Vodet swore he saw a rabbit, of all things in it. And not one from Lothal, one from Naboo. Different tail.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

@OPEN

​

The ramp hissed, lowering Lorn onto the salt-laden ground of Crait. Naboo was a distant memory now, the gentle green hills and dark blue lakes replaced by this blinding expanse of white. He adjusted his gaze, the sun reflecting harshly off the surface. The Order of Shiraya had answered the call, sending a small delegation including himself. He hadn't been involved in galactic politics, or really anything beyond Naboo, for decades, only recently returning to his homeworld. But the recent events on Hapes, the chaos that had followed, had shaken him. And the Foundation, it was clear, were staunch allies of the Royal Naboo Republic. He owed them, at least, an ear.

The Force call... it had been unlike anything he'd experienced. Not a gentle nudge, but a tidal wave crashing against his mind. First, a vision of pure, golden fire, burning bright but somehow safe, offering warmth, not destruction. Then, the stark white of Crait, a place he'd never seen, yet felt intimately familiar with. Followed with scenes of utter destruction. The images had been fleeting, fragmented, but their impact was immense.

He'd felt the heat of the fire on his skin, the biting cold of the salt flats, the metallic tang of burning metal in his throat. It was overwhelming, terrifying, and utterly compelling. The final image had been the most unsettling, a shattered Jedi temple, its spires broken and crumbling, ash swirling like spectral snow. A graveyard of the past, a grim warning for the future.

Now, stepping out of the shuttle from Naboo, he saw the gathering. Jedi, clad in various robes and armor, a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces, clustered around the entrance of what looked like a long-abandoned outpost, worn and weathered by time. He recognized a few faces, but most were strangers, their eyes carrying the weight of recent battles. The call had drawn them all, a collective answer to a silent plea.

Lorn lingered in the background, letting the initial flurry of greetings and introductions play out. He wasn't one for grand entrances or displays of authority. He would listen, observe, and assess. The Foundation, and whatever had prompted this urgent summons, had his attention.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Briana hadn't needed to experience the revelation of the burning truth for a second time, to be convinced of making her way to Crait and answering the call that'd gone out.

Truth of it was, she'd been slipping away from the Jedi Order and the Alliance for a long time now, each betrayal pushing her another step toward the door. It'd first started with Romi — watching her mentor stripped of dignity and dragged to trial like some common criminal, rather than the decorated war hero that she was. Yet, she'd been told to trust that justice would be found, that the Alliance would uphold that virtue; empty words that turned to ash when Romi vanished from their custody, and the Alliance did nothing but simply shrug and move on.

It'd been her and Lossa as the ones to finally find her — chasing every lead, following every whisper, hunting every shadow... until the trail led them straight to Darth Solipsis. Whatever sliver of faith she held when it came to the Alliance's justice, died right there — solidified further by the horror of what came after, when she'd witnessed the Sith desecrate the birth world of the Jedi, un-opposed, first hand.

But...even after that abominable, unforgivable act... even after the Jedi eventually tried and failed to reclaim Tython... there was still some small, naive part of her that clung to the hope that everything she believed in was not lost...

Until Coruscant.

The Temple fell, hundreds died, and somewhere in that chaos, Romi's name appeared on the lists of the dead — another statistic in the Alliance's growing catalog of failures.

On and on it seemed to go.

Briana returned to Naboo after that, pouring herself into building something new, something fresh — The Order of Shiraya. Every stone laid, every new recruit trained, every alliance forged, every tie severed, it all pushed her further and further from the Galactic Alliance's reach. In the beginning, she'd told herself that what she was building was only about helping to protect Naboo and her people, about creating something pure and untainted, that it was about healing. And while there was some truth to that, there was another truth she'd yet to reconcile: that deep down — she'd stopped believing in the institutions she'd once served; that she'd long sensed the darkness in the Galaxy growing, expanding, reaching...day by day.

It'd just taken Astor painting his wedding clothes in his own life's blood, to finally make her see the truth of it.

There was no longer mere disillusionment; there was only reckoning.

Every sacrifice, every friend lost, every failure of democracy—all of it had led her to find a seat front and center among those who'd gathered.

Whatever came from these discussions, Briana already knew where she stood.

She was done closing her eyes and pretending the rot wasn't there.

TAG: @Open | EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber, Echo Stone, Astor's Blade

​

 

[Vilka Keldra]

STARLIGHT
OUTPOST | CRAIT
TAG: Mother Askani | Lily Decoria | Aron Brood | Caltin Vanagor | Vodet | Lorn Reingard | Briana Sal-Soren | Open

It had been a quiet day at the temple on Koboh.

The Sephi Master had been in one of the meditation chambers when the Call reverberated through the Force with insistence. She had Seen whispers, the unrest on Artesia, uprising on Corellia, a rising Dark cloud. All of them seemed disconnected from one another - isolated. But the cascading imagery assaulting her senses in that meditation chamber let the isolated incidents blend into one great cause and a burning fire. And with the Call came a location...

Oceanic eyes flew open.

"Shamyu, ready our ship." she told the little droid that had silently been waiting for her in the corner.
The cerulean-accented little ball rolled forward with a series of questioning chirps.
"We're going to Crait, so make sure she's filled up." the Sephi answered serenely.
Shammy let out a whistle before rolling out of the room to do what he had been told.

The Salt Flats glistened.

The serene yet regal form glided down the ramp followed by the little droid rolling behind the Jedi Master as they headed toward the old Outpost where the gathering would be held.

Vilka had already made her decision - long before recent events. When what was left of the Silver Order had left Kashyyyk, the Force for some reason did not lead the Seer to the New Jedi Order. Instead it guided her on another path. It hadn't been clear back then - she questioned the Force, but listened to its guidance all the same. Now, after a great series of events and multiple failures, it had become more clear to Vilka as to why. Her gifts were better put to use somewhere else.

So she stepped into the gathering, her calming presence preceding her. Sky-clad eyes fell on the individuals gathered. Some familiar faces jumped out at her. Most notable had a weight lifting from her - Caltin Vanagor was alive and had also heeded the Call. Many of them had also been working with the Foundation.

But what did the future hold?

She had avoided seeking out that answer beforehand. The Force and Truth will guide.

Hopefully the conflict that whispered at her from some minds would be burned away - one way or another.

 

[Zhea Nox]

ECLIPSE
OUTPOST | CRAIT
TAG: Balun Dashiell | Everyone else (I aint tagging all of you again)

COATLICUE​

"Quiet your mind - accept what the Force wishes to reveal to you."

Zhea had been guiding Balun to start quieting his mind to train him in the ways of the Force and not just the blade. They had been in one of the training chambers within the Shiraya Sanctuary.

The Kiffar herself had been highly attuned to the currents of the Force in order to feel what her new Padawan was doing, when the insisting Call hit her from the side, physically unbalancing her from where she had been standing, watching his progress.

An onslaught of images, a vision, burned through her mind with a revealing fire. Finally she got the entire picture that Askani had been speaking of in the time that they had traveled to and from Hapes.

None of what Zhea was seeing actually surprised her.

Years ago…​

"To hell with the Alliance,"

His words echoed through her mind again. The incident and day that put so many things in motion. He had been right that day - they had both known it back then already. She had just chosen to stay longer - to teach a younger generation to be a Jedi and not a bureaucratic puppet. Vaylaar D'artagnan was the last of her Padawans to have seen the truth too.

"Sometimes, I feel like they've forgotten how to embrace the lighter side of the Force, if you catch my drift."

Batorine and its struggle and the Council's decision to not get more involved in the humanitarian issue was still one of the turning points for Zhea.

It was the culmination of incidences that was one of the catalysts to her eventual choice to leave with Simon. What happened to her last Padawan Evan after Cato Neimoidia, she had no idea. She had trusted Ishida Ashina to see to his safety - one of the last Jedi of the Order that she trusted to see to his final training without letting bureaucracy in the way.

Finally, it was the intelligence gathered in another time of unrest that had fueled her decision to cut ties with the Order entirely and forge a new path, entirely guided by the Light Side of the Force.

The vision revealed by Askani just vindicated her own decisions.

Zhea's eyes had found Balun again, the slightest bit of sweat beading her forehead.
"Bale." she said hoarsely before clearing her throat. "The time has come for us to do some introspection and choose - what we discussed the day we met or to be consumed by a corrupting fire burning through the Galaxy." she said.

"Will you come with me to Crait and make this choice for yourself?"

They stepped off the ship while Hobbs and the squad remained on the freighter.

The salt flats stretched out for miles in front of the Outpost. The Kiffar Master drew in a deep breath, centering herself before turning to Balun, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Bale, lines might be drawn today." Her voice and presence was deliberately calming. "If it comes to a choice, you need to make it for yourself. Let the Force guide you. It already brought you to me - it will point you in the direction it needs you to go again. It is my hope that it will guide you to stay by my side to finish your training, but it is not up to me."

She then motioned with her head toward the Outpost. as she turned her body toward it.
"Come on - let's go."

With that, they joined the other both familiar and unfamiliar faces to wait in anticipation. ​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

Location: Crait / Jedi Conclave
Apparel: Robes, Lightsaber, K-16 Bryar Pistol
Present Company: Zhea Nox
Relevant Tags: Mother Askani , Lily Decoria , Aron Brood ,
Caltin Vanagor , Vodet , Lorn Reingard , Briana Sal-Soren

​

The vision had struck like an uninvited storm, an intrusive force tearing through an otherwise mundane training session. Master Zhea Nox had seemed intent on dragging Balun back to the fundamentals—meditation, the same practice that had been drilled into him relentlessly during his fifteen years under the New Jedi Order. Those were years spent suffocating under the will of others, until he had finally seized control of his own fate, walking away from the Temple on Coruscant in search of an identity beyond what had been assigned to him. A life dictated by his own choices, not those of a mother who had never been there.

At twenty-one, the notion of returning to square one felt beneath him, an insult to his independence. Yet, despite his silent protests, he had held his tongue, forcing himself to place some measure of trust in Master Nox.

She was, after all, still a mystery to him. Their paths had only recently intertwined, an arrangement as unorthodox as it was unexpected. When Balun had sought a teacher, she had been the one to greet him on Naboo, offering a mentorship that felt more like a consequence of fate than a conscious agreement. It had not been the apprenticeship he had once envisioned, back in those distant days when he had still entertained dreams of becoming a Jedi Knight. No, those aspirations had long since withered, replaced by disillusionment and the weight of waiting—waiting for a master who had never come, waiting for a purpose that had never materialized.

The vision had been foreign to him, yet familiar to his Master. That alone unsettled him. He had done well to keep himself estranged from all things Jedi, save for the scattered volunteers who had aided the Tingel Arm Coalition during their war against the Empire of the Lost. And yet, here he was, accompanying Zhea to a Jedi Conclave—a gathering of politics and doctrine, the very things he had spent years distancing himself from. He could not fault her curiosity, but neither could he ignore the silent rebellion within himself. He had fought too hard to sever the chains of that title. Jedi.

And yet, no matter how far he tried to run, the past lingered. The New Jedi Order had raised him, shaping him from birth until the day he walked away. Though he had chosen exile, there were still faces he remembered with a reluctant fondness, ghosts from training halls and long-forgotten lessons. He had never been one to let others in—not truly. There had only been one exception, and she was now Sith. The mother of his son. A son who, much like Balun himself, had been left on a doorstep. The only difference was that this time, Balun had been the one waiting on the other side of the door.

Now, as he descended the ramp beside his Master, her words lingering in the air between them, a realization settled over him like a tightening noose. This day would decide more than the course of the Conclave. His place in this uneasy apprenticeship—perhaps even the path he had tried so hard to abandon—seemed to hinge on what was to come.

 

[Kahne Porte]

The lingering visions in his mind, who would all heed the call. The Jedi Master was back and forth on this entire situation. His primary concern was Naboo and it's people. However this.....thing that crossed his mind had left much to be discussed. The energies of the force directing them to one place. Kahne directed the pilot to a secure landing site, near fellow Jedi that had just touched down. The Jedi chose to bring his own ship, as he wasn't sure what this was going to entail. Whatever would convene, he would hear it out.

And whatever was best decided.......

"What do you think?"

"We shall have patience, and see what all is revealed here today. But whatever does happen, whatever is said. You must follow your own path, not mine. I won't be around forever, Aiden. The end comes for all of us, it is the way of life. It is long time that you forge your own path. Whatever that is, whatever that may be. Follow your heart, trust to hope and the light. You will be fine." The Jedi Master said with a small smile as he patted his son on the shoulder.

"Come on, let's see what is in store for us today."

The Jedi Master led them down the ramp as familiar faces began to spring up.

 

[Veythun]

The transport chamber that housed the ronin Jedi known as Veythun traversed the dusty saltscape of Crait with little fanfare. He did not care for such things and did, in fact, spend most of his time alone when not on some world working to resolve whatever issues were needing resolved. Rarely was he in a place to be gathered amongst Jedi in such numbers. Gallinore was the first time he'd been amongst more than one other at a time, at least as far as he could recall in the immediate timeframe.

There were numerous gathered, though. He could feel them before he even got close. More than he had expected, to be honest. More than he actually cared to spend time around. Not because he didn't care for them, in fact most of them he didn't know, but because he would much rather be out in the galaxy doing what needed to be done than having a conclave on Crait.

They had gathered and so he lingered towards the back, not wanting to take up too much space. The presence of a celegian was somewhat abnormal. It wasn't as if people saw his kind every day, especially on worlds with toxic atmospheres. The only way he survived was with the transport chamber, which was full of a gas that would kill almost everyone in attendance if they were exposed to it, just as the oxygen they breathed would kill him. Such was the way of things. He bore no lightsaber as most of them did and wore no cloaks or other identification of a Jedi.

He simply existed, a strong presence in the Force, and waited.

---

Transport Chamber: LINK

TAGS: Everyone​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

OUT OF THE SHADOWS INTO THE LIGHT
CRAIT
Old Rebel Outpost

Interesting… Connel will be here when he can.

Interesting point, Connel was already here… and he wasn’t alone.

One by one, Connel, “Michael”, “Gabriel” and the rest of Omega Squad came out from different hidden spots and locations, jumping down from or climbing out of them. They were all but indistinguishable because they were all wearing almost identical gear, why? They trusted no one, almost none. These were Jedi, sure, but they were paid and trained not to trust anyone outside of their own. Connel? He knew only Master Porte, he recognized Master Keldra from his childhood and Master Nox when he was working on Hapes. He knew of Reingard, he knew of Sal-Soren but none of that meant anything. He was only here because he was relatively close by and his father asked him.

Mind you, he did not openly act suspicious towards anyone, none of them did, but the entire team were on their guard, and stood next to the big man.

There was something nefarious going on, something about to go down that would alter the very fabric of his code of ethics, his upbringing, his very being. He did not understand why Father would be here, but he trusted him.

Seen Craig?

Mother Askani • Lily Decoria • Aron Brood • Vodet • Lorn Reingard • Briana Sal-Soren • Vilka Keldra • Zhea Nox • Balun Dashiell • Kahne Porte • @Veythum •​

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

Location: Crait
Attire: Casual
Companion: Grisial and baby Aileni
Tag: Mother Askani

Visiting Crait was always a good time since it meant that Grisial got to hang around his own kind and Dreidi got to enjoy watching him be the most comfortable version of himself. Today was a chance for Aileni to enjoy that as well, they had also come for another reason but for now, Dreidi was focusing on the positives for the trip. Aileni was a couple months old now and Dreidi had to carry him in a papoose. He was fidgety and very active as well as pretty alert for his age.

It was why she thought that he would enjoy the travelling with her. Places she knew would be safe from danger and allow him new stimuli to interact with. She was also sure that Aileni would love interacting with the animals as well. Dreidi was trying to keep an eye out on Force potential as well, she had her suspicions but wasn't willing to mention them yet.

Eventually, they left the Vulptex that Grisial came from and headed to the true reason that Dreidi had been brought here. The meeting with other Jedi. Dreidi sighed, part of her wasn't sure whether she should be here or not. Some saw her as only a witch, someone who used Magick from Dathomir and closer to the Nightsisters than she would be to actual Jedi.

However, she had trained in the SJO, the CIS, even been a Padawan working alongside the GA. Dreidi had met a lot of different Jedi and different beliefs that came from these Jedi. What she was curious about was how this meeting would help. Did they wish to be more militant like the Alliance years ago, more liberal in the interpretation of a Jedi like the Silvers had been, seeking peace with the Sith like the Jedi in the CIS had tried. Or were they seeking to push further in some notion of purity?

Standing at the edge of the Jedi, Dreidi watched and waited. Curious as to what she would hear. What path would be taken here.

 

[Sera Inkari]

Tag: Caltin Vanagor | Connel Vanagor | Open

Hooded in robes of flowing amber, Kintan's priestess descended from her Master's ship, Syn . There was a quiet reflection about her, more than usual her dreams had been consuming. Visions of Kashyyyk crept into edges of her mind, elusive answers she could not see. She had intervened, only to delay the inevitable and buy time; fires were now consuming beautiful forests, with other world's soon to follow. Fate could... should never be hers.... theirs to command, she had learned that long ago, only to foresee and guide. Their force had an undeniable collective rhythm, and she was but a single torch set beside a sun, weaving strands of probabilities in the chance of enlightening small patches of hope.

Once her travels had been with Kei, Taiden, Natoline (Glade), and Fyor in their Army of Light, sharing in their crusades, to see victory and disaster. In the end, she, like others, had fallen to darkness, the One Sith. Once standing beside their emperor so that he might escape justice meant for him. None of them had returned unchanged. Kei became a rigid, stubborn protector. Glade so boundless, her spirit broken. Fyor a engineering genius, his life cut short. Taiden the voice of diplomacy who could not risk a decisive decision. But she? Carried only the weight of pained experience, marring her soul in eternal service for the stains she wore, standing in the space between candle and shadow, shaped by the steady guidance of Syn 's hand to face the darkness where it lived.

With these contrasting thoughts pressing against her chest, Sera Inkari approached their conclave. She came in simple robes pressed at her waist by a rope belt, her pouches and saber resting lightly against her hips. Her sandals were worn, and her attire was humble. She needed little and asked for nothing. If her vision could serve today, let it be in guidance to a better cause, and if all she did was observe, let that be seen, that another soul cared enough to attend.

Catching sight, she fell in step somewhere behind Caltin Vanagor , recognizing markings of a possible future. "Master Vanagor," her ocean blue eyes drank deep of the moment, "My name is Knight Sera Inkari, Fate has led me to cross your path, I must heed its call, please accept what little assistance may be offered." Unlikely that he might recognize her appearance much because she revealed little of herself to their order, her Master's work was enough. She knew Caltin by reputation, and he may know her by her file. or a chance meeting on their refugee island with Taiden and Amelia. If he had need of her, or just for moral support, she was here.

 

[Kei Amadis]

Location: Back to a wall, in every way that counted.
Tag: Briana Sal-Soren
Following X then X and X

A Jedi? Master approached.
Summoning them all was a risk. Some were already on the edge of reason.

A desolate, cold landscape stretched before him, casting an eerie glow against the dark of his resistance armor—midnight blue, etched with jagged black markings, defiant in design. Armed to the teeth, there was no other way to walk now. A few might wish to see him restrained, but he doubted they would try. Conclaves like these were often held under a flag of truce.

Didn't matter. Little mattered now and he had not come alone.

Walking inside to stand and listen. Amadis would hear what was voiced. But his resolve saw nothing but the Mandalorian dead ahead of him. He placed no blame for inaction, the galaxy was vast, one planet or two cast against the needs of thousands. His duty to protect Kashyyyk had been his duty. His failure the burden. He was the reason it burned and the reason his family was gone.

But now, a choice lay before them all. And so he stood, silent, waiting, watching, to see what the Jedi of this era stood for.

Dark finality lay beneath the armor. If anyone dared to look, they would understand. To not approach directly. Heed this. Wiser to leave well enough alone. Too much death circled him, not anger, something less reasonable than hate.

Oblivion, the purest form of grief.

But strange as it seemed. There was a kinship here—different, but there. His armored head turned, eyes settling on her Briana Sal-Soren . Emotions felt, not the same emotion. Her anger burned hot, a storm brewing, while his grief was cold, hollow. But not being alone in emotion or purpose might avert catastrophe or burn a bigger fire.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

He breathed in slowly. The air was clear, crisp and rich with the unmistakeable scent of the ocean. Only, there was no ocean. Just salt.

The call had been clear. The conversation with Cybelle had been less so. It was hard to leave the Shore. It was hard to leave her, and the life they were building. But he would be back soon, nothing would have changed. In the pit of his stomach, Brandyn knew that nothing ever stayed the same.

His steps were met with the soft crunching sound of the hill he now descended. The rain had run off this small rise and allowed the salt to dry and crust over much quicker. Had he looked back, he would have noted the red, blood-like streaks that marked his descent to the meeting.

He had not told Briana that he would be attending. It wasn't intended to be a surprise. He simply felt as though she might insist that she had it in hand. Perhaps she would suggest that he could just stay home. He couldn't do that.

He was changing. As was his sister. In many ways, their paths were crossing. They had enjoyed a season of cordiality and kinship. Neither of them were at the extremes to which their personalities could take them. It was a nice change. One he coveted.

Perhaps today would see another change.

@Open​

 

[Lossa Aureus]

Jumpsuit and Robes
Bracelet | Echo Stone​

As much as she was supposed to remain benched and reflecting on what had been decided by the Council of Shiraya, Lossa could not ignore the pull.

She had long been exposed to issues within the order. To narrow thinking that followed strict tradition. That she could buck against and try to expand herself in different ways while trying to adhere. To fit in. To find her spot within the order. But it had never worked in any true sense. Always the outsider in the larger picture. Someone had to be she supposed. Left to her own devices while the others got attention.

Reminders that her father had made the correct choice.

But she had found something worth keeping in that place. People that still surrounded her even now when everyone had gone their separate ways. No less a family to call her own when the ones who had brought her into the galaxy had limited their contribution to that one single event. And to her own surprise, she had been gifted with her very own treasure. Even if that was partially the reason she had been asked to step aside for the time being.

Personal issues however were not what had drawn her to finally step away to seek her own path.

A first hand experience about the ramifications of a failed attempt on a jedi masters life. Experiencing what was allowed to fester on the planet beneath the watchful eye of not only the Senate of the Alliance, but the care of the Order as well. But she had not received the worst care. Merely a dabbling of the daily life that the people on the planet were treated to. Where corporate entities rung the people dry of wealth, happiness, and liberties. Where corporate authority went deeper than the laws of the Alliance. Where brutality ruled in place of the gentle compassion that was supposed to be the way of the Order. Where promised liberties seemed to end for corporate greed.

She had been blind to that point.

Rudely awakened to reality by a grenade she managed to push away before it had exploded after it had broken her nose. Tossed at her by corporate enforcers who cared little for the bodies that inhabited their planet and were allowed to exist on a planet under the protection of the Alliance. This incident made her examine her standing within the Alliance. Made her wonder what else was allowed to exist because of the wealth the was afforded to beings who managed these planets. Of what happened well away from the eyes of those who might do something, or if those eyes were turned blind by a staggering amount of zeros in their personal accounts.

She had been scared then. Young. Untested. Unable to do much beyond simply be angry at the system that allowed this corruption to fester and grow.

With the surprise Raid on Ossus reminding her that an even greater threat existed outside of their scope. And made itself clear in a way that should have shaken the Alliance to it's core. To seek to secure it's borders in such a way that made the chance of it happening again impossible.

But that was like stomping out shadows.

Instead, she left to find her own way. To find a method that worked for her rather than remain shackled. To learn what path she should follow. To return to those she felt mattered the most in time. Finding them patient and awaiting her return rather than expecting it. Welcoming her back readily. Reminding her that she was important and not merely another number to bolster their statistics.

That was what had brought her here.

Where anger had been driving her to search for her missing daughter, passion had taken it's place for this meeting. Where grief had been haunting her heart for the crimes against her, sorrow took its place for those she had not been able to help in the past. Her own feelings kept close to herself now as she stood among those gathered for this meeting. Her eyes scanning each face that made themselves known.

A familiar taste of grief lacing the air as she followed it back to the source. Eyes held fast to the form of Kei Amadis and gave him a solemn nod.

As much as she wanted to speak with him, each grief was different. What he bore was something she had not fully experienced nor did she ever wish to. But her hopes of such a thing remaining unknown to her were growing slimmer with each passing day.

Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Casca Pryce]

-|| Location: Crait
-|| Tags: Open
-|| Theme: No Chances

Casca was standoffish, gruff, and unappealing. His skin was pale from years spent on ecumenopoli where the sun was too weak to penetrate the smog. Pock marks and nicks covered the parts of his face that wasn’t obscured by his beard, which was carrying flakes of Crait’s salt. His tired eyes looked over the gathered Jedi, and for the first time in months, he could feel the furrow in his eyebrows soften.

For the few who knew Casca, it was uncharacteristic of him to attend a conclave such as this. He appeared to many as a juxtaposed figure amidst the hopeful and young. But to those who really knew him, they would know there’s no other place he’d rather be. He heard the call and followed the Force summons. The sense that something unavoidable was on the horizon persistent. He felt it when the Alliance failed to stop the assassination on Hapes, and when the rioters were gassed on Artesia, and the moment his ship touched down on the salt flats. They were seemingly disjointed events, isolated tragedies to the untrained soul. But to Casca?

They were signs of a change too big for any government to stop. Bigger, even, than what the New Jedi Order could halt or ignore. Two harsh words that carried great pain and suffering, yet also hope for a brighter future after the dark night:

Civil war.

It was not a foreign taste to the Jedi palette. Schisms and civil wars had fractured the order before, and from the ashes always arose a new tradition forged in the flames and ready to try again. Casca might have looked like old blood, but he felt the same as the rest. The galaxy has had enough, and it’s time to push back.

The aged Corellian slipped inside, passing like a shadow between other Jedi as he moved into the structure where the conclave was to begin. His eyes looked for familiar faces in the crowd, perhaps of Cortana Jade or Mira Quinn , but he couldn’t make either out in the dim light of the station. Satisfied with listening alone unless a companion spotted him first, Casca found a sturdy pillar cast in shadow where a floodlight had blown and leaned against it.

 

[Altan]

|| THE CONCLAVE ON CRAIT ||
The Ashen Sun - Chapter 1

OUTFIT: x
TAG: Open

Spoiler: THEME

​

CRAIT

A Jedi Conclave. Once upon a time he would ignore such call, seems like a lifetime ago. There was time where his faith faltered, that the Light is sure on the brink of destruction. But he’s seen the Truth.

Once upon a time he would attend with cynicism in his mind, certain that unity is not the way of the Jedi. That they shall strive as individuals, as the Light guides them. But he’s seen the Truth.

Once upon a time he would preach that the most honorable way to resist is through charity. To only pursue good while others do evil. But he’s seen the Truth.

For how far the Jedi has fallen from what they were supposed to be is exactly why the Conclave has to be realized. How come that the Galactic major power is a democracy yet people cannot eat? How come are they a military superpower if people are getting displaced every single day. How come is there a Jedi organization overseeing the integrity of the state if each day the threat of the Sith has only increased?

Altan has seen the Truth and he is not coming to the Conclave to be convinced, but to reinforce it, and anything else Mother Askani has to add. A solitary Jedi of his time, Altan only knows or recognizes the other Jedi from one-time encounters or through reputations. He notices some Silver Jedi, former NJO, even light witch which he has distaste for. Yet his personal opinion doesn’t matter on this day, only whether they accept the Truth. And that’s exactly what everyone will discover.​

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