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

[Mother Askani]

902 ABY | Conclave on Crait

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*If you're character is here, then I'm going to assume they saw the shared vision that was included in/with the Force call; that's important context for this whole thing. See spoiler in opening post.

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She looked into this shallow...shallow mirror, and saw her reflection; it had every physical feature she had, what appeared on the surface. Most stopped there, but when she really looked -- looked inward that is -- she saw a multitude of experiences, different lives, all culminating in this moment here. And often, she wondered if everything she'd sacrificed to get here had been worth it? What made her vision different from the others?

Most stopped there. Weighed down by the past, not strong enough to push through, turning cynical...giving up the chance to look at themselves...to lay their heads and arms down without feeling any guilt, shame, or worry about something...cursed to forever wonder what if.

This was the largest mirror in the galaxy, and it demanded instropection. She carried the conviction of her forefathers, mentors, and colleagues, all who had entrusted her with taking this step one day. Veiere, Thurion, Quill, Cotan, Coren...names upon names...so many names.

She understood that no matter the outcome today, her mission had been given to her.

Those compelled to answer the call had begun arriving, she was there to greet them at the maw of the outpost, just a speck shrouded in modest brown robes. Up until this point Askani had been this enigmatic figure, a harbinger of the Foundation, organizing and preparing for something...purposefully waiting for this moment. Her ties to the Jedi weren't always obvious, she had always described it as an experience from a lifetime ago...

Some of who were here she knew.

"The hardest truth..." she started as she pulled her worn scarf from over her head. "Facing parts of ourselves that we might not like." this applied to one's self, but also their institutions.

"We have gathered here today not simply because we are lost, or angry... but because we know, deep in our hearts, that something is wrong. We have followed the same path for too long--one that has led us into war, into bureaucracy, into complacency. And yet, time and again, we have told ourselves the same lie: that if we tether ourselves to the Republic, the Alliance, or any other governing body, sworn to uphold peace, we are fulfilling our duty.

We were never meant to be the enforcers of a broken order. The Jedi do not serve systems--we serve civilization. And that civilization is crumbling before our eyes.

The Republic fell because of its own stagnation, its corruption, its inability to change. The Galactic Alliance is following the same path, wrapped in bureaucracy, weighed down by greed and internal decay. Even the New Jedi Order, once a beacon of hope, has lost its way--tangled in politics, silencing dissent, and allowing itself to become a tool rather than a force for change.

I do not say this to condemn. I say this because we have a choice to make. We can sit idly by, waiting for another failed system to collapse around us, or we can do what the Jedi were always meant to do--fight for civilization itself."

She paused, letting the words settle before pressing forward.

"Jedi do not fight for peace. That's only a slogan, and is as misleading as slogans always are. Jedi fight for civilization, because only civilization creates peace. There's a truth that we must now embrace. Peace is not granted by governments. It is not found in treaties, nor in neutrality. It is built. It is created by those willing to shape the foundations of civilization with their own hands.

That is what the Foundation stands for--not another Alliance, not another council of bureaucrats. We stand for a new way. A fair, and just order where civilization is not dictated from above but built from below. Where individual systems have autonomy, yet share in mutual aid, cooperation, and governance. Where the Jedi are not beholden to politicians, but instead act as defenders of something real--balance, justice, and the survival of the people we swore to protect.

I know some of you believe that to act is to betray tradition. That to change is to abandon the Jedi way, your Jedi way." Because not every Jedi thought the same, or followed the same interpretation of the code. "But I ask you--was it the Jedi way to sit in ivory towers while the Sith maneuvered in shadows? Was it the Jedi way to let bureaucrats dictate our battles? To allow corruption to fester because we were too afraid to challenge the systems we served? Was it the Jedi way to let Kashyyyk burn? Was it the Jedi way to allow bureaucrats to interfere in another nation’s affairs by force without considering the broader implications? Was it the Jedi way to let millions of civilians be displaced without a place to go? Was it the Jedi way to let an authoritarian regime build a stronghold in the Core, strip people of their freedom, and go uncontested? Was it the Jedi way to let a Dark Lord of the Sith defile planets that date back as far as the dawn of the Jedi? To never address the rifts left in the fabric of the Force?

Fracture after fracture after fracture...you saw it for yourself. The Burning Truth.

No....No. This isn't about who the better Jedi is. The Jedi way has always been to stand for what is right, to defend the innocent, to seek justice when others turn a blind eye; no matter what code you follow. That is what we must reclaim--not an allegiance to a government, but an allegiance to the people of this galaxy and the civilization that sustains them.

We do not fight for peace. Peace is not something that can simply be fought for--it is a byproduct of something greater. We fight for civilization. We build civilization. And if we do not act now--if we do not rise and build something new--then this galaxy will fracture beyond repair, and we will have no one to blame but ourselves."

She glanced around.

"I am not asking you to start a war. I am asking you to help end one—the slow, quiet war of decay... that has been eating at this galaxy for decades upon decades upon decades. The war that corruption wages against justice. The war that greed wages against balance. The war that stagnation wages against the future.

I am asking you to build. To take all of your doubt, your frustration, your disenchantment at what the Jedi have become--and turn it into something greater. A civilization that does not need war to survive. A civilization that does not demand we choose between our duty and our freedom. A civilization where Jedi are more than just symbols of a past age--unchanged--one where we are the architects of a new one.

The time for waiting is over. The time for doing something is now...but ultimately the choice is yours."

She glanced down into all of their reflections, "We stand upon the brink of a precipice." Her words lingered in the air, "We peer into the abyss--The sight makes us uneasy--our instincts tell us to back away. And yet, we don't. For some reason, we stay. Always. Because we must."

Spoiler: tags

Lily Decoria | Aron Brood | Caltin Vanagor | Vodet | Lorn Reingard | Briana Sal-Soren | Vilka Keldra | Zhea Nox | Balun Dashiell | Kahne Porte | Veythun | Connel Vanagor | Dreidi Xeraic | Sera Inkari | Kei Amadis | Brandyn Sal-Soren | Lossa Aureus | Casca Pryce | Altan

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

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Balun Dashiell stood rigid beside his Master, Zhea Nox , his expression a careful mask of concentration, laced with underlying apprehension. Concern flickered in his eyes as he listened intently to the words of Mother Askani, who addressed the gathered Jedi with an air of quiet authority. He had heard whispers of this ambition before—rumblings during his early missions with the Foundation, long before his path had intertwined with Master Nox's. Back then, he had spoken of his unease in hushed conversations with Iona Starchaser , wary of what such a shift could mean. But now, with the truth unfolding before him, he found himself scanning the faces of the Jedi around them, searching for their reactions, wondering if they too sensed the weight of the moment.

Unlike many of those gathered, Balun lacked the years of service and dedication that shaped their paths. He was a man grown—twenty-one now—but with six years of lost training, he could not help but feel as if he stood a step behind the rest. Yet where he lacked in Jedi experience, he had learned to navigate politics, out of necessity rather than desire. Running a company, ensuring Dashiell Retrofit™ could operate freely across star systems, had forced him to study the games of politicians. He had learned to listen beyond what was spoken, to hear the unspoken motivations woven between carefully chosen words.

Corruption existed in every government. It was an unavoidable truth. Promises made for votes, favors exchanged in hushed corridors, credits passed from hand to hand to elevate status and secure influence. The cycle was endless. And yet, despite the rot that often festered beneath the surface, Balun had met leaders who stood against it—Senators and politicians who carried themselves with integrity, not just in his own judgment, but in his father's, Judah Dashiell , a man who had spent decades navigating galactic affairs.

The idea of a Jedi Order separate from governance was foreign to him. It had never been a reality in his lifetime. Born into the New Jedi Order, he had been conditioned to believe that its alliance with the Galactic Alliance was the natural order of things. The Jedi had always been a presence within governance, meant to temper its extremes, to act as a moral compass when corruption threatened to tip the scales too far. Without them, who would stand against the Senate's overreach? Who would ensure the rulers of the Core Worlds did not become as dangerous as the threats lurking in the Outer Rim?

And yet, Mother Askani spoke with purpose. She chose her words with precision, threading reason into every statement, shaping a vision that was difficult to dismiss outright. Perhaps it was wisdom, experience—perhaps it was simply the power of a well-rehearsed speech. Either way, she was persuasive, and Balun could not deny the pull of her logic.

Still, a wariness remained. The Jedi had always spoken of peace, yet time and again, they had justified war. He did not doubt their convictions—his own hands had been bloodied in battle, his life risked in defense of what he believed in. But if the Foundation sought to challenge the New Jedi Order's standing within the Galactic Alliance, if division fractured the very foundation of the Jedi, what would the consequences be? The Dark Empire, the Empire of the Lost, the Sith Order, and countless criminal syndicates already ran rampant across the galaxy. Was this truly the moment for ideological conflict among the Jedi? Would they not only weaken themselves in the face of far greater threats?

His gaze flicked to his right, to where Zhea stood, composed as ever. A silent question passed between them, concern lingering in his eyes. There would be much to discuss. And if his apprenticeship hinged on siding against the New Jedi Order, then they were both about to tread dangerously thin ice. He wasn't sure she could convince him this was the right path.

And he wasn't sure he wanted her to try.

 

[Iona Starchaser]

Location : Crait | Weapons : Force Pike | Interacting With : OPEN
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Iona was one to stand back and listen, today was no different. She had been called here more out of curiosity than anything else. Of course they had all gotten the visions she assumed. The pull to arrive and listen. She knew no one here - perhaps that was Bale's head up front? - but that was by design. Iona kept away from the main groups of Jedi, involved in a small enclave that remained mostly hidden in the Kathol Outback. Quietly studying the Force, doing what they could in the Tingel Arm and local areas, there was no one doing anything on a large scale like say some of the branches of Jedi out there. Small impacts in a small pond.

While she considered herself a pacifist, she wasn't sure starting a war within the Jedi as a good idea. The Mirialan teenager had a lot of issues regarding the main groups out there, especially the NJO. Yet she had no thirst for killing her brothers and sisters in the Galactic Alliance. See them disbanded? See their teachings of violence die out? Yes.

If she picked up a weapon against them then she would be no better. Iona wasn't going to lower herself to their level, to fight violence with violence.

So why was she here? To learn. To get a pulse on the Jedi at large. To expand her mind. While she may not agree with everything said, knowing the what and why was important to her. To get the other perspective. It only assisted her in her travels. In her attempts to help others.

Couldn't fix what one didn't understand.

 

[Vizion Trozky]

THE CONCLAVE
OLD REBEL OUTPOST ☛ CRAIT

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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.

And quietly slipping into place alongside her, was he who had taken account of her burdens and pains after the fact - paths diverged that were slowly coming together again, a bond that was still far from what it once was - until recent. A hand laid on her shoulder as he came to a standstill, ahead of the speech.

When the vision was visited upon him, it had provoked Vizion out of the last cycle of his sleep, into the predawn dark; his questions weren’t levied on the contents of what he had seen, so much as what it meant, if anything, for the other sights he had been given. Ties to a role he had unwittingly been… fated?... to fulfill. Implications he still struggled with.

What was given to him, this time, rang with more clarity and truth than any other message of the Force he had been made to watch to date. It was what put his boots into the salt, his feet carrying him into the outpost where he now stood, peering at the speaker's face, with a vague itch in the back of his mind, listening to her give words to sight.

He saw more of the fallout, moving amongst the people over his years as a Jedi, than any perspective from higher up or the outside. He caught enough simply from information gathering, performing his calling as a Knight over the past four to five years; however, perspective was singular, unique to the individual.

Vizion turned his head aside, eyes slipping over her side profile, as his fingers curled into Briana's shoulder, into a firmer hold, “We need to talk,” he insisted in a low tone and volume that implied this wasn’t negotiable, “later,” the hold relaxed, “when did you know?”

He could assume, but they hadn’t really talked since before the day of that wedding… and he wasn’t blind to what feelings she had been harbouring since.

Briana Sal-Soren • Mother Askani • OPEN​

 

[Kei Amadis]

Tag: Mother Askani | Lossa Aureus | Brandyn Sal-Soren | Briana Sal-Soren | Open​

Amadis stood in heavy silence, his armored gaze moving over the gathered Jedi and their allies. The moment had come. Talk was easy, action had cost.

"How far are you willing to go to change?"

Important. What were they going to do when they walked out that door? Many would not be convinced. He didn't try, the speaker wouldn't reach them either, some never saw a wound until it was too late. But others had lived it and they knew what was coming.

"My home is ash." Heavy grief-laden words thumped in his chest, wanting to rip out of him, clawing at his insides.

Could have meant Panatha, Voss, Kashyyyk—all reduced to a memory of freedom under the weight of war or occupation. Worlds he had fought for and swore to protect, were now nothing but occupied husks, crushed under the boots of soulless tyrants or worse. None of those images burned in his mind like the blackened ruins of his log cabin home, the weight of her body in his arms, the scent of charred forests and her.

His love was carved into the marrow of his bones. Kei's broken hand curled into a fist. The Jedi had not given up on Kashyyyk.

"Fight, and I will be beside you to the end. Cling to half measures, and you will fall again." Today wasn't about him; he pushed his emotions to the pit of his stomach.

Amadis had seen it before, over and over. The desire for calm, respite, and compromise. He had wanted to believe that occupation could be endured and peace could be salvaged below tyrants. To live quietly, love deeply, and trust that somehow it might be different.

It always returned. Warriors craved conquest.

When the Republic fell to inaction. The Sith emperor tried to run as Chancellor. Worlds burned, the Jedi waited, and like before, the temple doors were being kicked in, and still no answer.

Civilization needed bureaucracy, not rule by it. Victories should not be ignored, and a few failures should not condemn an entire Order. But it always did. He had watched it happen to the Republic Jedi, the Silver Order, now the Alliance. The same cycle, living through it. Every loss a scar to remind him, and the voices that never let them forget a few mistakes, while ignoring a thousand victories for the people of those worlds, and all the work till then, madness. Nobody could be everywhere at once.

He understood all of it and carried all of it.

And still—he would fight.

Reaching up, Amadis pulled his helmet free. To stand in the ash of everything he swore to protect, and fail so utterly that he was nothing but a shell of the man he should have been. He could barely call himself a man at all.

He would not let that happen to others, the people on those worlds would breathe free.

The foundation. "Will you build something that will not break? Strong enough to push back." His gaze moved across them, waiting, weighing.

"Or do I fight this war myself—again?" A question for everyone—not just the speaker who was threading disenchantment, diplomacy and anger through the eye of a needle, but everyone standing here. Almost as if he'd shifted for a time, standing there giving a similar speech to a different era, but the words ended and the finality of it all settled on his shoulders, eating away at his heart.

 

[Quis Ven'nari]

The crunch of the salt flats underfoot was lost in the noise of Quis' mind. There were decisions to be made, friends to be considered, and worlds to be traveled to. The lists of all clustered his mind as The Burning Truth seemed to be at the center of it. He could not help himself from answering the call. It seemed to him that every step he took was not purely his own, but one he took with destiny. He appreciated that even as he got up in his years, the force still had a plan for him.

He joined the convocation of Jedi with little delay. He took a place between the cliffside ramparts of the ancient outpost, leaned on a stubborn salt pile. He looked across the crowd. Every Jedi looked unfamiliar through his weary eyes and spotty memory.

Quis tried to feel for familiar connections in the force, but his final padawan, the first person he'd made contact with upon returning to the known galaxy, was far from Crait. She wouldn't leave Coruscant, not when she doubted the validity of the shared vision. First, she told Quis it was a trick. Then she said it was a manipulation. Finally, after some debate, she admitted to not knowing its level of authenticity. She promised to learn what she could soon enough but not by abandoning her post. The Chief Archivist would remain in the Archives. Quis was disappointed in his former padawan, Ran Serys , but he wouldn't stop trying to make her see what he saw. So as he waited and watched for someone to lead the conclave of Jedi forward, he thought of her.

Quis listened as the aging woman spoke. He agreed with her, it wasn't hard to. The Burning Truth and her words reflected much of the conclusions and ideas he had drawn from so many years as a Jedi and citizen of the Galactic Alliance. He could see and hear others' disappointment and frustration with what the older Jedi had to say. It was a tough pill to swallow. Many Jedi of the New Jedi Order lived as she described, thought the same way she did, and they did not need The Burning Truth to get there. The extremes of them were thought eccentric at the least and radicals at the most. When he wasn't busy, Quis always felt for them. He felt for those in front of him now.

There were visceral reactions to her words. Some were pained and he could hear it in their voices. Kashyyyk was a fresh wound for some it seemed. He hadn't been up to date on galactic news since his time in the uncharted territories beyond, but he could tell whatever happened on Kashyyyk had been a significant event.

Quis looked to the Jedi around him. "And what do you lot make of this?" He asked knowing it was a big question, still he wanted to know from anyone who would bite.

Tags: Romi Jade Iona Starchaser Altan Casca Pryce Brandyn Sal-Soren Vilka Keldra Briana Sal-Soren Lorn Reingard Aron Brood

Note: Only tagged folks marked Open and/or not currently in conversation.​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

ANSWERING THE CALL ON THE SECOND RING
Sanctuary Island
Main House

The salt crunched beneath Jedi Master Caltin Vanagor’s worn boots, each step a metronome counting down his rising frustration. The old Rebel outpost on Crait, once a haven for hope against the iron grip of the Empire, now felt like a cage. The stark white landscape, blinding under the twin suns, mirrored the stark, unwavering conviction in the eyes of the assembled… zealots.

He’d arrived on Crait seeking solace, a quiet place to meditate on the fractured state of the Jedi Order. What he’d found was this: a gathering, a cabal, whispering of “The Burning Truth.” A truth he found increasingly unsettling. He had listened to Mother Askani’s words and while the mention of Kashyyyk jabbed at him like a dagger and brought out a level of anger in him he had not felt in a long time, he could not disagree with much, if anything, that she was saying.

There were several issues that needed to be addressed, but was this the way? Was there not something better? To bring change from within?

There were some more extreme, some formerly of the Ashlan Crusade, some of the Lightsworn, they were looking for more.

The Jedi behind him, pledging her support, “Sera”, he nodded in appreciation. Thank you, let us see how this plays out.

Caltin shifted his weight, the silence in the cavern amplifying the subtle sounds. He was a Jedi of the old guard, molded in the fires of the Clone Wars, steeped in the ancient traditions. To him, the Jedi were guardians of peace, protectors of the weak, servants of the light. This talk of cleansing, of reformation… it reeked of something far darker. Echoes of the Sith, whispers of dominance disguised as righteousness. There was more to this, more to all of this that seemed very “familiar” to him and he did not like it. It was almost like there was something, like some kind of bomb about to go off.

He’d heard the rumors, of course. Whispers of discontent within the Order of Jedi who felt the Council had grown weak, compromised. Whispers of a charismatic figure, a leader who promised to restore the Order to its former glory, by any means necessary. He had dismissed them as the ramblings of disillusioned idealists. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Whispers of “complacency," Talk of the Jedi allowing the Alliance to dictate their actions, becoming tools of war.” What got him angry the most was the talk of how they had forgotten the true power of the Force, the power to shape destiny, to forge a new future. Caltin may not interpret the Code in the most general sense, but he lived by a simple motto. “I have to be able to look at myself in the mirror.” Askani’s words may be challenging, if not outright fighting that, but this? The voices around him?

A murmur of agreement rippled through the assembled Jedi. Caltin saw the hunger in their eyes, the yearning for something more, something… decisive. He recognized the seductive allure of certainty, especially in uncertain times. The Republic was crumbling, beset by corruption and greed. The Jedi Order, charged with upholding its ideals, seemed powerless to stop the rot. It was a fertile ground for extremism.

He clenched his fist, his knuckles white. This… “Burning Truth” was proving to be nothing more than a justification for power, a thinly veiled excuse for a power grab to many. And the implication was chilling. A Jedi Civil War. The very thought was anathema to everything he believed in. The Jedi had always been the shield against such conflicts, not the instigators. He couldn't let this happen. He had to remind them of their true purpose, of the principles that had always guided them. The Jedi were meant to bring balance, not chaos. He stepped forward, his voice steady and resolute, ready to challenge the tide that threatened to sweep them all away.

All eyes turned to Caltin. The weight of their expectations, their hopes, pressed down on him like the salt mountains looming outside. He felt a wave of weariness wash over him, a weariness that went beyond physical fatigue. It was the weariness of a man who had seen too much war, too much suffering, and now saw the seeds of yet another conflict being sown.

He stepped forward, his gaze steady. The truth I see is that the path many of you propose, that you are trying to twist from the words of Mother Askani, is fraught with danger. You take her words and twist them to the very possible problem that could arise from a gathering like this. You speak of cleansing, of reformation, but I hear only the echoes of destruction. The Force is not a weapon to be wielded for personal gain. It is a source of balance, of harmony. To force it to your will is to invite chaos.

A ripple of disagreement went through the crowd. Several younger Jedi scowled, their faces tight with resentment. He could also see Connel in the middle of his own debate, this was not going well.

The eyes of one young Knight hardened. He whispered to Caltin "Harmony? Balance? While the galaxy burns? While the Alliance crumbles under its own weight and the innocent suffer? We cannot stand idly by, Master Vanagor, clinging to outdated dogma while the galaxy descends into darkness! We must act! We must take control and forge a better future!"

Control? Caltin echoed, his voice rising slightly. The Jedi are not meant to control. We are meant to guide, to protect, to serve. Did you not listen to anything that has been said to this point? Or did you come here hoping for someone that agrees with something you are already searching for. To seek control is to walk the path of the Sith.

"The Sith sought power for themselves," Kaelen countered, his voice dripping with scorn. "We seek power for the benefit of the galaxy. We will use the Force to bring order, to end suffering, to create a true peace! Take Master Amadis. He survived the virtual destruction of Kashyyyk. Why should he be denied?" What the Mandalorians did…

Caltin indeed watched, knowing that he technically did not survive. And who will decide what is 'true' peace? Caltin challenged. Who will decide who must be sacrificed in the name of this 'greater good'? You? The others who agree? This is the language of tyranny, not of justice. I am not saying that there is not truth in any of these words, but truth can be twisted into a lie that fits one’s needs.

The air crackled with tension. Caltin could feel the Force swirling around the young Jedi, younger than Connel, a tempest of conflicting emotions. He saw the doubt in some eyes, the uncertainty creeping into their faces. But he also saw the unwavering conviction in others.

He knew he had to reach them, to break through the rhetoric and appeal to their better selves. The Jedi way is not easy, it never was, he said, his voice softening. It requires patience, humility, and a willingness to listen, even to those who disagree with us. It requires us to confront our own weaknesses, our own biases. To take shortcuts, to resort to violence, is to betray everything we stand for. I’m not saying that a change is not necessary, but this? Why not change from within? Why not change hearts and minds among the others? Diplomacy is a weapon of the Jedi too.

He paused, taking a deep breath. The Alliance, the galaxy itself may be flawed, but it is not beyond saving. The Jedi Order may be imperfect, but it is still a beacon of hope in a dark galaxy. To destroy it in the name of some twisted ideal is to plunge the galaxy into chaos, to unleash a war that will consume everything in its path.

The Jedi Knight speaking up the most, we’ll call him Kaelen, remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “Mother Askani is right. We need to change what they will not. Join us, Master Vanagor, you’re known for fighting them on their terms.” he said, his voice low and persuasive. “Help us shape a better future. Use your wisdom, your experience, to guide us. Together, we can save the galaxy.”

Caltin looked at Kaelen’s outstretched hand, saw the plea in his eyes. He saw the potential for good, twisted and distorted by ambition and fear. He could feel the pull of Kaelen’s charisma, the seductive promise of decisive action.

But he also saw the darkness lurking beneath the surface, the shadow of the Sith creeping into his heart. He saw the path to ruin that Kaelen was treading, the path to a war that would tear the Jedi Order apart.

He shook his head, his gaze firm. Who is “them”? The Mandalorians? The Sith? The Sith Ascendant? Some other upstart who disagrees with you? Who is to say that this is right? Not your way. If you are willing to step up and talk to the others, if you are willing to do this the way it SHOULD be done, a way that does not destroy the message then I stand with you. This way? Your way? I cannot, Kaelen. I cannot condone this path you have chosen. I believe in the Jedi as a whole. I believe in the principles of the flow of the galaxy, despite its flaws. And I believe that the Force is a force for good, not for control.

Kaelen’s hand dropped. His eyes hardened, the flicker of regret replaced by a cold, unwavering resolve. “Then you are a fool, Master Vanagor,” he said, his voice laced with steel. “You are clinging to a dying age. You will be swept aside by the tide of history.”

Caltin sighed. He knew this was coming. He knew that his rejection would be seen as a betrayal. But he could not compromise his principles. He could not stand by and watch the Jedi Order descend into darkness. Connel was in the middle of his own argument, to which Caltin stopped him and pointed simply to the outside. No demands, no dressing down, simply to talk outside, they way they had always done when they needed to.

Perhaps, he said, his voice calm despite the turmoil within him. But I would rather be a fool than a tyrant. You seem smart enough to know that this is not your path either

He turned and walked away, the salt crunching beneath his feet. He could feel the eyes of the small group of assembled Jedi on his back, burning with anger and disappointment. He knew that he was now an enemy, an obstacle in their path. He wasn't leaving, but he would not stay in this group right now, cooler heads needed to prevail, and considering the mood he was in, that was saying something. Right now though, it did not matter…

… right now he had a son to talk to .

Mother Askani • Lily Decoria • Aron Brood • Vodet • Lorn Reingard • Briana Sal-Soren • Vilka Keldra • Zhea Nox • Balun Dashiell • Kahne Porte • @Veythum • Sera Inkari • Kei Amadis
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

OUT OF THE SHADOWS INTO THE LIGHT
CRAIT
Old Rebel Outpost

The wind howled a mournful song across the salt plains of Crait, a desolate symphony that mirrored the tempest brewing within Jedi Shadow Connel Vanagor. The old Rebel Outpost, once a beacon of hope against the Empire, now served as a clandestine meeting place for a splinter group of Jedi, those who whispered of "The Burning Truth." Connel, a figure cloaked in shadows and driven by a fierce, unwavering loyalty to the Force, found himself increasingly at odds with their rhetoric. He was not here because of some call, or some “Burning Truth”. He was here because his father, Master Caltin Vanagor, standing next to him asked.

He stood at the edge of the cavernous hangar standing next to his father, the crystalline salt crunching under his worn boots. The air hung heavy with unspoken accusations and simmering discontent. Around a makeshift table crafted from salvaged metal, several Jedi Masters, Knights, and Padawans, their faces etched with concern and a disturbing glint of fanaticism, debated in hushed tones. Their words, though carefully chosen, painted a grim picture of impending conflict.

"...the Council's complacency... the stagnation of the Order... the rot that festers within," Master Lyra, a Togruta known for her unwavering resolve, hissed, her montrals twitching with barely suppressed anger, she stood there, her outer rim home falling victim to complacency and bitter about it. She was taking this “Mother Askani”’s speech about building up, and twisting it into tearing down.

There were more whispers from others on the outskirts. "We cannot stand idly by while the Jedi stray further from the true path! They preach peace while the Sith regain their strength in the shadows!"

Connel clenched his fists, his knuckles white. The Force thrummed with his rising anger, a dangerous energy that threatened to erupt. He understood their concerns. He, too, felt the unease, the subtle shift in the Force that hinted at a growing darkness. But the solution they proposed, the veiled threats of a "cleansing fire" within the Order, filled him with a cold dread.

Are we not Jedi? Connel finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous, cutting through the tense atmosphere. All eyes turned to him, their expressions ranging from wary to openly hostile. Are we not sworn to protect the people of the galaxy, to uphold the light? How can we do that if we turn against each other?

Master Lyra fixed him with a piercing stare. "The Alliance is blind, Connel, the Order is blind. The Council is deaf. Only we can see the truth, the inevitable war that is coming. A war not against the Sith, but against the darkness that has infected our own ranks."

The implication hung in the air, thick and suffocating. A Jedi Civil War. The very notion was anathema to everything Connel believed in. He had witnessed the holovids extolling the horrors of the Clone Wars, the stories his father had told him, the devastation wrought by brother turning against brother. To even contemplate such a conflict within the Jedi Order, the last bastion of hope in a galaxy teetering on the brink of chaos, was madness.

You have got to be kidding me. Connel argued, struggling to keep his voice level. Why can’t we even try to seek a solution, a way to awaken the Council, others in similar positions to expose whatever darkness that you believe festers within the Order, without resorting to violence against our own kind.

Someone else he could not identify, probably the “Kaelan” that Father was arguing with had scoffed. "Naivete, Connel. You are blinded by your loyalty. The rot is too deep. It must be excised, even if it means tearing the Order apart."

Connel’s patience finally snapped. The Force surged around him, a palpable wave of barely contained fury. So, this is it, then? You would condemn the Jedi to another war, another cycle of bloodshed and destruction? All in the name of your 'Burning Truth'? That is not even what she was saying up there and you are turning this into your own lust, and people say I’m close to the Dark Side..

He could feel their eyes on him, assessing, judging. He was an outsider here, a lone wolf among zealots. He had come seeking answers, seeking guidance, but he had found only division and a dangerous thirst for power disguised as righteous indignation.

"You are choosing the wrong side, Connel," Master Lyra said, her voice laced with disappointment. "We offer you a chance to stand for what is right, to cleanse the Order and prepare for the true battle against the Sith. Reject us, and you become part of the problem." That got a reaction from Caltin who just pointed at them, they can talk to him like that, but Connel, his own man or not, his own Jedi or not, was still his son.

Connel stared at them, his heart heavy with a profound sadness. The faces of the Jedi he had once admired were now twisted with a fanaticism that chilled him to the bone. He saw no wisdom in their eyes, only a dangerous certainty that bordered on madness.

Caltin stopped everything from escalating further and put his hand on his son’s shoulder and simply pointed outside. Connel did not have to hear words to know that they could converse out there. Connel would be able to speak without holding back.

At what cost? I choose the Force, he said, his voice resonating with conviction. I choose the path of peace, even if it means standing alone against the darkness, both within and without.


He turned and strode away, the salt crunching beneath his feet, the wind carrying his words into the vast, empty expanse of Crait. He knew he had made an enemy of some these Jedi, that they would see him as a traitor, an obstacle to their grand design. But he could not, in good conscience, stand by and watch them tear the Order apart.

As he walked, a vision flashed through his mind, unbidden and terrifying. He saw himself standing on the precipice of a battlefield, Jedi clad in white robes clashing with Jedi shrouded in shadow. The air crackled with the energy of lightsabers, the ground stained with the blood of fallen comrades.

He knew the path ahead would be fraught with danger, that he would face betrayal, and deception, but he also knew that he could not turn back. The fate of the galaxy, perhaps, rested on his shoulders, on the shoulders of those who would not compromise their principles just because things were getting difficult.

Did he like what Askani was saying? Not at all, but several of the whispers of those he was listening to were trying to take advantage of this. Was he any better though? Was he not abandoning those who were not doing so by not exposing these actors?

With a renewed sense of purpose, Connel Vanagor stepped out into the salt plains, a lone Jedi Shadow venturing into the heart of darkness, determined to extinguish the flames of division before they consumed everything he held dear. The myth of the Jedi Civil War was not yet reality, but the seeds had been sown. And Connel knew, with a chilling certainty, that the time to stop it was now, before the first lightsaber blade was drawn in anger, before the first Jedi fell at the hands of another. He would become the shield that protected the Light from itself, a silent guardian standing against the coming storm. The Force was with him, but even that might not be enough to overcome the darkness that was rising.

Now what kind of argument did his father want to give?

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

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

ANSWERING THE CALL ON THE SECOND RING
Crait
Outside group - Old Rebel Base

The salt crunched under Caltin Vanagor’s heavy boots as he strode out of the old Rebel base on Crait. The planet's crimson soil stretched before him, meeting the horizon in a hazy, white line. The air was cold, carrying the sting of the salt flats, a familiar bite that reminded him of the harsh realities of the galaxy. He spotted his son, Connel, standing a short distance away, his silhouette sharp against the pale landscape.

Caltin's massive frame moved with a surprising grace, a testament to years spent honing his connection to the Force. He was a man of immense strength, his scruffy beard now streaked with grey, a roadmap of battles fought and losses endured. The razing of Kashyyyk, his home, still burned within him – a wound that refused to heal. He had died there, technically, his spirit fleeting towards the ethereal plane, only to be pulled back by an act of sheer will, fueled by the love that bound him to his wife and to Connel and his unwavering dedication to the Light.

Connel turned as his father approached, his face etched with a familiar blend of worry and defiance. He was a Jedi Shadow, a warrior who walked the tightrope between light and darkness, using the shadows to protect the light. The path had hardened him, leaving its mark on his young face. He was taught well by his Father, known for his own “tightrope”, but time always wins this battle.

Connel, Caltin greeted, his voice a low rumble that carried across the desolate landscape.

Father, Connel replied, his tone clipped. The unspoken tension hung heavy in the air, thicker than the salty mist.

Caltin knew what was coming. The council meeting they had just attended had been fraught with discord. Talk of radical change, of questioning the very foundations of the Jedi Order, had stirred a deep anger within Connel.

They speak of dismantling what we are, Father, Connel began, his voice tight with suppressed fury. Of abandoning the tenets that have guided us for generations. They call it ‘progress,’ but all I see is chaos.

Caltin sighed, the sound lost in the wind. He understood his son’s anger, and shared it in many ways. The destruction of Kashyyyk, the countless betrayals and atrocities they had witnessed, had shaken the Jedi Order to its core. But knee-jerk reactions and blind adherence to tradition were not the answer.

I hear you, I hear your frustrations, Connel. I feel them myself, Caltin said, his voice laced with a weariness that came from centuries of conflict. But this anger has to be focused in the right direction, and have a purpose, unchecked, this is a path to the dark side. You know this, better than some of the Masters there.

And what am I supposed to do, Father? Stand by and watch them tear everything down? They weren't THERE when Kashyyyk burned! Amadis was, he looked like he wanted to kill everything and anything! They weren't THERE for a lot of what happened, yet they look and whisper. Connel’s voice rose with each word, the raw pain of those memories echoing in his tone. He gestured vehemently, his hand instinctively reaching for the lightsaber at his belt.

Caltin stepped closer, his massive presence a calming force. I know you are hurting, my son. But where was anyone? Where was the RNR? Where was the New Jedi order? They were fighting Sith, as well as the same Mandalorians. They talk of change because deep down they are scared, as are we. They are in denial, but lashing out at them will accomplish nothing. You mentioned Amadis, and yes, you can practically smell the Dark Side on him right now. Do you not see the problem in that? All of this and he is still trying to find something to latch on to. The man is tired of fighting, like I am, like I know you are.

Accomplish nothing? Connel scoffed. Is that what you truly believe? That we should simply sit idly by while they abandon everything we stand for? You taught me the value of defending the Light, Father! You taught me to fight for what is right, no matter the cost!

And I stand by that, Caltin said firmly, his eyes locking with Connel’s. But there is a difference between defending what is right and blindly attacking those who question it. These are not Sith Lords we face, Connel. They are Jedi, lost and confused, seeking a new path in a galaxy irrevocably changed.

A new path that leads to ruin! Connel retorted. They speak of embracing emotions, of questioning the Code, of forging a new identity divorced from the past. It’s madness! It’s a recipe for disaster!

Caltin placed a heavy hand on Connel’s shoulder, his touch grounding and reassuring. They are looking for an answer, Connel. They've seen the failures, they’ve seen arrogance, the detachment. They are trying to find a way to prevent those mistakes from happening again.

By throwing the baby out with the bathwater? Connel challenged, his voice still laced with anger. By abandoning the very principles that have kept us safe for millennia?

I get what you are saying, and I agree with you, you know that. Sometimes though, principles must evolve, Connel, or they become dogma. Rigidity leads to stagnation, and stagnation leads to destruction. There is some truth to what was said in the theorem, not in some of the fanatical words echoed but in its base.” Caltin removed his hand and turned to face the crimson horizon. The Jedi Order was blind, during the rise of the Empire. Dark Side cloud or not. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the moment he was struck down. They had become political, arrogant, and worst of all: without compassion.

Connel lowered his head, his anger warring with the respect he held for his father. He knew Caltin was right, on some level. The Jedi Order had been flawed, its adherence to tradition sometimes blinding it to the needs of the galaxy. But the alternative – abandoning the Code entirely – seemed far more dangerous.

So what do you propose, Father? Connel asked, his voice softer now. That we simply stand by and let them dismantle everything?

No, Caltin said, turning back to face his son. We do not stand idly by. We engage. We listen. We understand. We offer guidance, not condemnation. We show them the wisdom of the old ways, while remaining open to the possibilities of the new.

But how, Father? How do we reason with those who have already made up their minds? How do we bridge the gap between tradition and change? Connel’s voice was laced with desperation.

Caltin smiled, a rare and reassuring sight. With patience, Connel. With understanding. And with the unwavering commitment to the Light that burns within you. He stepped closer, placing both hands on Connel’s shoulders. You are a Jedi Shadow, Connel. You walk in the darkness, but you are not consumed by it. You are the bridge between the old and the new, the warrior who can defend the Light while embracing the shadows.

He paused, his gaze intense. But you must temper your anger, Connel. You must learn to listen, even to those who challenge your beliefs. You must remember that even in the darkest hearts, there is a spark of light waiting to be ignited. Look in the mirror once in awhile, show it to others. He smirked.

Connel met his father’s gaze, his anger slowly receding, replaced by a glimmer of understanding. He knew Caltin was right. He couldn't let his anger consume him. He had to find a way to bridge the divide, to guide those who sought to change the Jedi Order, to ensure that their quest for progress didn’t lead to destruction. That last quip about the “mirror” was of course the motto that Father had taught him long ago about how you need to be able to look at yourself in the mirror. He smirked too.

I think this is going to be a challenge, Father. Connel said turning back to look at the base.

It is, Son, but one we have to take on. Remember, let them call you what they want. What matters is what YOU do. They will say you have darkness in you, but it is the balance that will keep us all from falling.

Caltin squeezed his son’s shoulders, offering a silent reassurance. We will face this challenge together, Connel. As father and son, as Jedi. And together, we will find the path forward, the path that will lead the Jedi – and the galaxy – towards a brighter future.

The wind whipped around them, carrying the scent of salt and the promise of change. The crimson soil stretched before them, a vast and unforgiving landscape, but beneath their feet, a seed of hope had been planted, nurtured by the love between a father and son, and the unwavering belief in the power of the Light.

I’m hungry…

I brought a ton of Nerf roasts we can cure and throw on the grill.

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

[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Veythun]

The vision that he had seen was one that had numerous interpretations. As in all cases, visions came without different circumstances, different realities. In the past, a prophecy of the chosen one who would bring balance to the Force had resulted in the destruction of the Jedi, as the Jedi had brought imbalance to the galaxy. They had incorrectly interpreted the meaning of the prophecy and the end result was devastation of not only the order, but a large portion of the galaxy.

It seemed they were destined to do so again.

Here they were, gathered together, and some were pushing to battle against the New Jedi Order. They were pushing for the downfall of the Alliance because of some issues present within it. Veythun didn't disagree that the Alliance had issues; those were plainly evident given recent events. What he disagreed with was the notion presented by Mother Askani that the solution was to see the Alliance destroyed, and its order of Jedi along with it.

/I find the interpretation of the vision presented to be entirely lacking in not only good sense, but a fundamental understanding of reality./

The words that the Celegian spoke would ring not in the ears of those present, but within heir minds. It was the only with which he could commune with others as he had no mouth.

/The Alliance is positioned between a rock and a hard place. On one side they are pressed by both the Dark Empire and the Mandalorians. On the other the Sith. This has force them into a three front war for preservation of their sovereign space, but I think what you and others fail to understand is that their sovereign space refers to the sovereign space of their member states. They are an alliance, not an Empire. Each of their member governments has a say in what happens, and treating them all as equivalent party to bad choices is just as wrong as treating them all equal in good ones.

/The New Jedi Order has made many bad choices, including allowing the wife of the current Chancellor to be on their council, but that doesn't negate the fact that what they attempt to do is to fight against the forces of darkness. You interpret this vision as meaning if nothing is done they will fall and the galaxy will fracture. I would interpret the meaning as a warning meant specifically for you, that causing a fracture that leads to violence will ultimately be what destroys the galaxy because it will distract people from fighting against the dark as they are currently doing, as everyone here should currently be doing.

/We should not be here in conclave, even considering striking at another Jedi order. We should be out there, doing what Jedi are supposed to do: help those in need of it. I am firmly against any decision to cause a war between us and the New Jedi Order or the Alliance./

---

Transport Chamber: LINK

TAGS: I'm not tagging everyone, consider everyone tagged.​

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The Foundation had some plans. And many of them were good. Coren Starchaser was here for it. When he found his place in the gathering, he was listening intently on the leader here. He was once in her shoes, he lead the Galactic Alliance that helped fill in the gap of the Republic. And then it collapsed and evolved. He found himself back in the Levantine space. But he was out doing what he did best, what he preferred.

Exploring. Flying. Navigating.

As he looked up, he could hear Askani. And her points were valid.

He could support this, he saw Iona, he saw Kaia, and he knew that Jared was around working for the Foundation. This was a good team. He was going to remain where he was, to the side, helping and advising.

 

[Vodet]

He was more than happy to get here. It took its time, and Vodet really needed to work on his access to events. He was slower. He had to get his own ship one day. It would be nice, hire a pilot droid, get to where he needed to go. Should he get into combat it may get hairy, but he doubted that would be the situation.

He was a Yinchorri, but not one of the combat thirsty ones.

Vodet was here to help, and see the galaxy. Heal planets, and their people.

The Foundation? Well, it was looking to heal by being proactive. The gardener, as opposed to the one who merely plants. The attentive one, cutting the limbs before they die. And encouraging the growth to come. The Yinchorri stamped his staff into the ground on Crait, this salty dry world, at the conclusion of Mother Askani’s speech. She had a fire to her.

And Vodet could be the water. Patient, helpful, and cooling for the problems of the Foundation. Around his neck, the Jedi would see the kyber crystal, a deep blue, but not in a lightsaber, he lost that tool many a year past.

He should discuss with his Ithorian friend what could be done here, could the Ithorian engineer work up more tools to help these people? Perhaps. First they’d need a ship and workshop.

And to get somewhere cooler, and more humid.

Vodet looked, it took a moment before he recognized what was in his mind for what it was, another being. The Celegian.

Another being of different make of these No Shells. One that did look like food. But Vodet had the wisdom to differentiate a jellyfish from one that was sentient and here to help.

He merely nodded in the direction of Veythun

 

[Kahne Porte]

The lack of humility being displayed before all Jedi, was truly disconcerting.

The voices echoed back and forth, from Jedi to Jedi and to the next. Kahne shook his head ever so lightly before glancing over to Aiden and he couldn't begin to imagine what was going through his mind. He was young but was still in need of guidance, and Kahne could only do so much. His choices would have to be his own.

While the Jedi Master didn't put much stock in the vision itself. Visions could mean many different things. They could be interpreted in many different ways. One thing he did know for sure was the, farfetched thought that some had in regards to the Alliance was indeed.....disturbing.

There were some that were spouting Civil War, the very last thing that should be considered. But that of course is where path's diverged, choices would be made. He could already sense the turmoil brewing around him. Everyone had their own clause and reason for believing what they did and how they did.

As did Kahne.....

Naboo, that was his priority. It's people and her wisdom and grace. He would provide guidance if needed and be there to combat the darkness that threatened hope and light. He would keep a careful and watchful eye on how things progressed from here.

 

[Zhea Nox]

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

COATLICUE​

Zhea could sense her new apprentice's unease.

She just hoped clarity could be given by Askani. He was old enough to make his own choice. He had already cut ties with the Order of his own volition. His choice today would either be to just be continuing on that path or return to the Order that he had turned from. But she still increased the calming effect that rolled off of her, to try and settle his mind to listen what the Mother of the Foundation had to say.

And what she said was the truth of it.

For too long, they have turned a blind eye. Used excuses. Some had said something. Zhea knows she had. Ever since being under house-arrest by the Alliance, confined to the Temple after the battles that raged on Ziost, she had spoken up on behalf of the people and other concerns of where the Order was headed and was simply sidelined by one Council after another. The Order's want to not get involved in the struggle of the people, had left the people of Batorine in the same situation that had sought the intervention of the Jedi in the first place, still struggling. She couldn't act back then - couldn't help the people like she wanted to because the Council had tied her hands to an investigation into a mining company that had long since left the planet. That investigation didn't put food into a settlement's plates. It didn't protect the others' crops.

She had been on Tython when that Rift was created by Darth Solipsis . Why that still hasn't been repaired since, still worried Zhea. And then a new Empire rose up to take root in the very heart of the Alliance, subjecting millions to hard Imperial role, and still there hasn't properly been moved against them.

She had long tried to give the benefit of the doubt, to excuse things slipping past for a State caught between a proverbial rock and a hard place. But that excuse kept getting drowned out by millions of star systems in alliance, majority of them adding either military or food to the State as a whole. There was no excuse for not acting against an authoritarian regime rooted solidly in the heart.

Her heart had been heavy for a long time, seeing things happening and not being able to do anything about it on her own. Now, she had found a new cause - a cause for the people. A cause to advance civilisation within the Galaxy. A cause to give the people the opportunity to stand up for themselves - to be backed by other people that care to listen. She wanted to build a better tomorrow. That's all she ever wanted to do. She had managed to build a better life for the people of Teth alongside Simon Meinrad , no longer plagued by an overabundance of syndicates and exploitation. She wanted to bring that about for others as well and the Foundation enabled her to do that.

Unfortunately, there were power-hungry bureaucrats that didn't want to let go of the funds they were embezzling from their people. At the end of the day, bureaucracy was just another form of a criminal syndicate. It had to be rooted out. She kept her balance throughout the through process, as she knew what the truth was. She was content to look in the mirror - she had been doing that for a long time.

But she could feel anger ripple through some there.

Some Jedi she respected. Her blue eyes watched as the Vanagors walked out to cool off. She felt Iona Starchaser and Balun's unease. Everyone's emotions echoed toward the Kiffar in waves. Even Veythun who was a Ronin - a Wayseeker - like herself, no longer tied to an Order, exploded into her psyche with a passionate argument against the very goals of the Ronin. It was clear, most have misheard what Mother Askani was saying. Zhea deeply wanted to correct them.

But her first concern was for Balun.

Her gaze fell on her apprentice beside her as she placed a hand on his shoulder, a deliberate calm and balance spreading from her to him.
"Bale, listen." she said softly. "This isn't a call for war. This is just a call for us to do what the Jedi were always meant to do - be protectors of freedom. That's it. It may possibly just put us at odds with some that do not want to let go of their corrupt ways. The ultimate goal here, is just to rebuild that which has been wrongly broken down, regardless if you are Jedi or just a person with a good heart. To proverbially heal where there has been wounded. It is a duty of specifically the Jedi to continue to be champions for freedom." She smiled at him. "In short, we just need to choose if we'll continue what we have been doing - spreading the Light by helping the people and giving them hope - or do we bow to a broken Galaxy?"

She gave him a squeeze on the shoulder as she straightened up.
"I know what I'm choosing - to rebuild a broken Galaxy and to be the hope that many seek for." she said with conviction.

"What is yours?"​

 

[Thal Mantis]

​

Thal never liked where the Jedi ended up, presently. Despite the best efforts of members like Romi Jade and other Jedi, Thal had constantly teetered the line between dark and light, anger and forgiveness. But as he watched the Silver Jedi collapse, the Galactic Alliance falter, he watched the Jedi go from legendary protectors, to tools of a government. They were once agents of peace, champions of justice and the heralds of demise for the evil-doers of the galaxy. A righter of wrongs, someone to bring balance.

Now, he saw the Jedi presently as more than just another military wing of the Alliance. Either that, or weak-minded and betraying to their values. Attachments, passions, brushes with the dark side. What good was the Jedi code, if it was not followed? What good were their mighty temples, only to serve nothing? No sacrifice, no adherence to the old ways, the ancient traditions that kept the galaxy together.

He looked up, having been seated for a long time. Thal was a maelstrom in the force, thunderclouds above the mountain. He was trying to keep his anger in check, the ugly brutality of his past, his family lineage, his accursed presence. And it was difficult, arduous at times to not give in. Hands clasped together, leaned forward at the waist, he held his head against his thumbs, watching them all speak, go back and forth. He had remained silent the entire time, before he took a deep breath after one of the other Jedi spoke.

"If we want to have a tomorrow, we have to fight. There is no other option."

Thal flicked his eyes upwards, meeting the eyes of several others in the room.

"We must secure peace for the future, and we cannot do it without fighting. We have to try. Or we will watch again, while another democracy falls and crumbles. I have been a slave once. I will not do so again. I will fight."

He went back to his silence, having said his piece. Simple, and to the point- perhaps he took more after his father, Preliat, than he wanted to admit out loud. Thal knew what was at stake. Perhaps more than some gathered. But to not fight? To not try another way? To not be better than they were? That seemed the most un-Jedi like thing to do.

 

[Vilka Keldra]

STARLIGHT
OUTPOST | CRAIT
TAG: Everyone

Vilka merely listened at first.

She had Seen many things - had contemplated the different possibilities of the visions. None of the various paths ultimately seemed to really fit though. It was only when Mother Askani had called and had shared her vision, that the puzzle-pieces clicked for the Seer. She could finally properly interpret the collective of visions.

She didn't need the eerily familiar woman to tell her the truth. Vilka had seen it for herself. The gathering was merely a vindication.

Her serene form watched as others reacted. How young Connel Vanagor exploded from anger. Last time she had properly seen him, he had still been the awkward child standing in his father's shadow. He had grown into his own since. Luckily his father was there now, to calm his storm when he was confronted with a truth he wasn't ready to admit yet.

So many young ones seemed troubled by the news.

The Sephi Master couldn't blame them. To have part of an institution for their remarkably short lives, not knowing anything else than what they had been raised in. To be confronted by their elders' experiences and observations while not knowing how it should be was enough to unbalance anyone. It was up to the elders to guide them.

Her eyes landed on Coren Starchaser . She could feel the same conviction within the foundational Jedi that she had. She had seen too many Orders fracture due to the intervention of governments - the Republic, the Alliance that succeed them, the Silver Concord - they all eventually pulled their Jedi Orders' strings. They all ended up shattering.

Something had to be learned from it.

She listened as some others raised concerns and felt the emotions running high. The truth was difficult to face at times, as Askani had said. But she could feel the more calming presences like Quis Ven'nari and Vodet 's as well. Vilka channeled the Force immensely and spread a calmness through the room to just ease everyone's minds and give them more clarity, easing the emotions to help them think more clearly.

"And what do you lot make of this?"

"We must secure peace for the future, and we cannot do it without fighting. We have to try. Or we will watch again, while another democracy falls and crumbles. I have been a slave once. I will not do so again. I will fight."

Then the Sephi's tall frame rose from her chair, her gaze scanning the room.
"There are many streams that feed a river." she said, her calm alto carrying through the room. "We are exactly the same. We are all Jedi but all apply it differently, but we feed the river that is Jedi. Our purpose - first and foremost - is to be guardians of peace and freedom. And that is what Mother Askani has been saying - we should return to our roots, not be tethered to governments. We should be free to help those in need, regardless of politics." Her eyes found the young ones - Iona Starchaser , Lily Decoria , Balun Dashiell . It was especially them that she wished to calm and give clarity to. "This young man," she motioned to Thal Mantis , "though bluntly put, has the right of it. The Jedi's fight isn't against institutions. It is against the threat to peace and freedom. The call is not for a Civil War. That is not our way. The call is to build a new hope. A new tomorrow. But that will put us at odds with corrupt governments and the institutions in their pockets." Her voice took on a heavier note. "The choice isn't a hard one to grasp - build a new tomorrow or continue turning a blind eye to the brokenness of the Galaxy. On the surface it is an easy choice. But will you remain stalwart in your conviction of being a protector of freedom, to stay true to your duty to the people that have put their hope in you, when you are confronted by one of our own, now standing with the very threat to a better tomorrow that we are fighting against? Will you still choose a better tomorrow then? Or will you falter and return to turning a blind eye to the brokenness?"

She looked at Mother Askani that reminded her so much of Romi Jade. They had once toiled together in the sands of Jakku to do the very thing that was being suggested now - rebuild a civilisation, a beacon of hope for the people.
"I have once helped others rebuild pockets of peace within the Galaxy once before." she said to her. "Small bastions of hope for people to turn to in times of strife." She then looked at Quis Ven'nari to answer his question.

"I choose to do so again, but on a grander scale."​

 

[Sera Inkari]

Tag: All | Vilka Keldra | Mother Askani

"Prophecies born upon fire burn both ways."

Kintan's priestess felt the pull to follow Caltin, halted at the crossroads where fate coincided in likely outcomes. Threads of possible futures aligned before her, shimmering to life from her dreams. With quiet contemplation, she peeled back the hood of her simple robe, revealing falling amber curls that caught the light.

If only Syn were here. She felt his absence, knowing he would understand all they felt—perhaps offering words wiser than hers. But perhaps she was here in his stead, for a reason.

"Walk this path and it will reform the balance," she said, her voice threading a current of certainty. "One way or another." Reform was unavoidable; time brought reform, "but the outcome of that reform may not be as you wish". None controlled fate as some reached to do; as a seer she knew this most of all.

"Conviction burns brightest at its inception, but whether our fire endures depends on the fuel you choose. Too hot, and it will consume you. Too cold, and it will fade before the conclave is done." Her words left to settle like embers. The boldest of hearts were often eager to challenge the monolith, to strike at the foundations—but what happened when that monolith simply sent a diplomat?

She smiled softly. Perhaps it would be that simple. Perhaps that was why she had chosen to stay. If she could guide both sides toward necessary change, no blood need be shed, and the disruption could be minimal. She had wished Caltin Vanagor had remained so she might offer that possibility, but she could work with him from afar if he allowed her later messages to reach him.

But Kei was lost. And she mourned for her friend. Could anyone reach Kei now? Too many connections had already been severed, friends, family and loved ones. Time stole them away, little by little, until only echoes remained. And would Syn understand her choice or have advised her differently?

Her ocean-blue eyes settled on the first speaker and then another. Vilka Keldra spoke almost as Sera did, and it confirmed she was in the right place, to offer a similar council. The difference was she would engage the other side also, the soft cooling of emotions only drew her further into balance.

"I will lend you my visions, called forth by your fire." She bowed her head, a gesture of offering by the grace of one who walks between sight and shadow "I am Sera Inkari, Seer of the Burning Globe, Knight of the Silver Jedi Order, and now if you will allow it, a seer among the Foundation."

 

[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

Zhea Nox 's voice came softly, barely above a whisper, ensuring their conversation remained private amidst the murmuring discussions of the Conclave. Balun turned to face her, his expression measured, his thoughts a storm beneath the surface. Her reassurance that this gathering was not a declaration of war against the New Jedi Order was a small relief, though it did little to quell his deeper concerns.

"I haven't considered myself a Jedi for a long time now, Master," he admitted, his voice even, yet carrying the weight of years spent untethered from the Order that raised him. "My motivations, my ideals… they might align with theirs, but I prefer to remain independent. I don't want to be confined by the same expectations, the same biases that come with the label."

He spoke carefully, aware that this was a conversation best suited for privacy, away from the ears of those who might take offense or seek to sway his convictions. For years, he had existed outside the structure of an Order, without a congregation of fellow Force-users to lean on or clash against. His training had stagnated, true, but at least he had never found himself caught between the moral dilemmas that came with Jedi politics. And now, standing here, that independence had never felt more necessary. If siding with the Foundation meant fighting fellow Lightsiders—those who sought to protect the galaxy, however flawed their methods—then he wanted no part of it.

His gaze flickered back toward Mother Askani and the gathered Jedi, watching as they exchanged words, debated, questioned. Some voiced their anger outright, while others, like himself, lingered in quiet apprehension. The weight of what was being proposed, of what could come from this, sat heavy on his shoulders. A divide among Jedi. A rift that could fracture the Galactic Alliance itself.

"When you asked me if I would fight anyone… this is what you had in mind, isn't it?" He turned back to Zhea, his brow furrowed, his voice quieter now, though no less firm.

The answer had always been clear to him, and it remained unchanged.

"If serving others requires me to fight, then so be it—but not unconditionally," Balun said, his jaw tightening. "I won't raise my blade against fellow Lightsiders. Not now. Not ever. With the Dark Side running rampant, striking from the shadows, tearing the galaxy apart at every turn… engaging in war with one another only strengthens them."

He exhaled sharply, his unease simmering beneath his calm exterior. This wasn't the path he had envisioned when Iona Starchaser had first introduced him to the Foundation. He had expected to fight against Imperial oppression, to stand against the brutality of the Sith. But this? This felt different. This felt like watching the good guys turn on each other while the real enemy sat back and grew stronger for it.

"When—and if—the Jedi, yourself included, require an ally against the Sith or the Imperials, you need only ask," he continued, the conviction in his voice unwavering. "I will fight. Gladly. If it means breaking the chains of tyranny, if it means freeing the galaxy from those who would rule it through fear, I will stand with you."

His gaze dropped for a brief moment, his thoughts momentarily pulled elsewhere—toward the past, toward the New Jedi Order, toward the people who had once been his family. "But where the Alliance is concerned… the New Jedi Order took me in when my mother abandoned me. They raised me. And while I may not always agree with their ways, I owe them a debt. They were my family before my father found me."

He met her gaze again, his expression resolute. "I know, in my heart, that they serve the galaxy just as we do. But people make mistakes. No one gets it right all the time."

Balun shook his head slightly, exhaling deeply. He wasn't naïve enough to think that this conversation would be easy, nor that his stance wouldn't put him at odds with those around him. His apprenticeship with Zhea had barely begun, and already, the lines were being drawn.

"You and I hardly know each other, and these other Jedi…" He gestured faintly toward the gathering before letting his hand fall away. "Whatever your reasons, I'm not trying to be difficult. I just know that I can't—" He paused, then corrected himself. "No. I won't commit to fighting the New Jedi Order. It goes against everything I am."

His voice was steady, but there was a finality to it.

"If that means you won't train me, then I'm sorry for it, I was hopeful. But I can't stand here and pretend to agree with all of this."

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Why did this all seem so dangerous? Because it was. Brandyn understood the emotion. He had acted on similar feelings. And he had been wrong. For a long time he just hung back in the crowd. But the words of so many stirred him to step forward. His eyes fixed firmly on Mother Askani .

"A new way?" He said, eyes heavy with the mounting sorrow.

"You are not the first I have known to speak in this manner," he said, knowing she understood.

He glanced about the group that he now stood before, feeling all of a sudden very small in his own eyes. "Ever since I was a boy. I dreamed of being a Jedi. I failed at being what I always longed to be. Slowly. I pick up the pieces and try and make myself a better man," his eyes fell upon those of his sister.

"It was not the New Jedi Order that failed me. It was myself. I failed," he glanced about hand lifting to point to the group, "and so will you if you follow your anger. Your hatred. Even hatred for those that you think deserve it."

His finger turned to point up to Askani. "Askani. You ask us to build. And we are. Naboo is alive and humming with hope. The Order of Shiraya is a beacon to Jedi in the galaxy of a different...pure path of the Jedi," he said, eyes pleading, "your words incite division. Division..."

"...well we know where that will lead..."

His head hung low for a time before turning to Briana. Of all the people here, he needed her to hear him, and heed his words. "If you want to build. Go home. Build what you have. Make what you already have something that others will want. The Jedi of the New Jedi Order are our friends. They...they are our family. They are not our enemy."

He felt like he had accomplished nothing, and began to walk back into the crowd. As he walked past Briana, he stopped and added for her ears only. "I see what is happening to you, Bri. It is like looking into a mirror. You need to build. It is true. But you will not find it by letting your broken heart lead you. Not to this heretic. Not to this New Way."

| TAG: Direction addressing Mother Askani and Briana Sal-Soren @Open |

​

 

[Casca Pryce]

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

"And what do you lot make of this?"

Casca’s gaze shifted from Mother Askani to the Bothan. He hadn’t yet acquainted himself with Quis Ven'nari but there was nothing like the seed of rebellion to bond a pair of strangers.

"I think she's right," he said plainly. "When a cancer takes root, it festers until it kills the host or is removed. It's no longer enough to ask for change when the system is designed to shun and incriminate those who would bring it about. If the Jedi Order wishes to bask in arrogance and complacency, then it should be excised." It might be extreme, but what else was there? If the Jedi here chose not to do anything, they were part of the very problem the Foundation was working to solve. They would leave Crait and return to a complacent, intolerant order that would use politics and bureaucracy to defame those who fight for justice.

In this way, how was the Alliance any different than the Empire it refuses to expel from the Core?

Casca sighed. "The Jedi Order thrives on war because it keeps them relevant. They've made themselves into tools of the Alliance, and without wars to fight and shadows to expose, there is little use for them. They have no choice but to serve the Senate and its wars, just like our predecessors in the Republic. Weapons of war to be wielded by the greedy and creedless."

"I can't go back now. Not after seeing the Burning Truth."