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?

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