Public History Lesson

[Caltin Vanagor]

“The only reason time seems to be moving rather fast is that sometimes we’re too busy living in the past.”
― Dominic Riccitello​

The Museum of Intergalactic History on Coruscant was a mecca for sentients to flock to and experience while learning about historical events. Day after day, hundreds of travelers would descend onto the facility to learn about the highs and lows of the past four thousand years.

Caltin Vanagor, a Jedi Master of over 900 years, stood in the middle of this institution, listening to the speakers get things wrong. As he looked around at the exhibits, he couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. The museum was supposed to be a place of learning and enlightenment, but instead, it was filled with inaccuracies and half-truths.

Vanagor had lived through much of the history that was on display in the museum. He had fought in wars, witnessed the rise and fall of empires, and seen the galaxy change in ways that most people could never imagine. He knew the truth behind many of the exhibits, and it pained him to see them misrepresented.

As he listened to the speakers drone on, Vanagor couldn't help but speak up.

"Excuse me," he said, interrupting the speaker. "But that's not quite right."

The speaker looked at Vanagor, clearly surprised to see a Jedi Master in the audience. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "What did I get wrong?"

Vanagor took a deep breath and began to explain. He talked about the history of the Jedi Order, the wars they had fought, and the sacrifices they had made. He talked about the Sith and their never-ending quest for power. He talked about the rise and fall of the “Old” Republic and the “Galactic” Empire, the “New” Republic(keeping in mind this was all over 800 years ago) and the role that the Jedi had played in all of them.

As he spoke, the other speakers and members of the audience began to listen. They could hear the passion in his voice and the depth of his knowledge. They could see that he was not just a Jedi Master, but a living piece of history.

When Vanagor finished speaking, there was a moment of silence. Then, one of the other speakers spoke up. "Thank you, Master Vanagor," she said. "Your insights have been invaluable. We would be honored if you would be willing to share more of your knowledge with us."

Vanagor smiled and shrugged.

"I would be happy to," he said. "But first, let's make sure that the exhibits in this museum are accurate. The galaxy deserves to know the truth."

And so, Vanagor began to work with the museum staff to correct the inaccuracies in the exhibits, this was just a couple of hours at this point and it would not be finished in one day. Not deterred, he shared his knowledge and his experiences, and slowly but surely, the museum began to change. The exhibits became more accurate, and the visitors began to learn the true history of the galaxy.

For Vanagor, it was a small victory, but an important one. The Big Man knew that the truth was important, and that it was up to those who knew it to share it with others. As he walked out of the museum, he felt a sense of satisfaction. He had done his part to ensure that the galaxy would remember its past, and that the mistakes of the past would not be repeated in the future.

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
Sanctuary Island

 

[Zel Sharratt]

Coruscant, Museum of Intergalactic History
Tags: Caltin Vanagor

​

"We live in an era of information loss."

Zel was standing before one of the many exhibits that filled the halls of the Museum of Intergalactic History, a mural depicting the Russian Reformation, the meeting of the minds back in the age of the Old Republic that would set it on the path to ultimate destruction at the hands of the Sith. The information that went along with it was accurate... for the most part. Events further back began to waver, slipping back into the realm of myth and legend.

"Even before the rise of the state that called itself 'Empire,' much of the history of our galaxy struggled to be maintained," he explained into his recording device. "Be it the multiple pressure bombings of Mandalore to the sacking of the Jedi Temple by the ancient empire of the Sith, there has always been a force that has pushed our collective knowledge into muddy waters. No event represents this more than the Republic Dark Age. For a hundred years, the long standing body that had been a pillar of strength in a turbulent galaxy lay in ruins. Worlds reduced to lifeless wastelands, the complete collapse of the Holonet, which left the galaxy in a state of disconnection unseen since the reign of the Rakatta I may add, and a self-imposed isolation brought about to weather the storm or the New Sith. In hind sight, it is very clear why so much of our history has been lost, swept away in the raptures that defined our modern age."

"That's a lot of words, mister," a young Togruta girl noted, standing a few feet away with the plastic toy of a Duinougwuin clutched in her hands. "Where did all of it go? The information?"

"Who's to say," Zel shrugged. "Perhaps some of it still exists, preserved neatly from the sands of time in a long forgotten bunker or warehouse. Unfortunately, without a reliable means of locating these treasure troves that contain pockets of our lost history, it's difficult to know how long they will be there. As for the rest, it's safe to assume that it's simply been lost, destroyed in the conflicts of old."

"That's a weird way of saying you don't know," she shrugged. "See you, mister."

As the child skipped off, the Blubreen sighed.

"But the child presents a fair point," he stated aloud, making sure to record his musings. "The trials of recording the history of the galaxy must force one to reconcile with the unknown. While the galaxy is filled with unusual folks, you can't always assume you will wander into a stranger with all the answers. Some, like the Museum, fill their history with romanticized speculation. I see that as a bit misleading, but perhaps that's just the product of my work. Honesty must always be at the forefront of chronicling our story..."

Perhaps betting on fate to provide a knowledgeable stranger wasn't as ridiculous as it seemed, considering the outlandish theories of the alternative path. Zel only hoped that somewhere, out in the wide Galaxy, such an individual existed for him to meet.

 

[Seku Bondara]

Seku had always had a keen interest in history. In fact, she had wanted to become an archeologist once she could figure out how to get herself off Nar Shaddaa. That was before she was noticed by an SIA operative scouting for new talent. She often wondered what course her life would have taken if she hadn't have been noticed. Would she have made it off Nar Shaddaa to pursue her dreams, or would she still be stuck there? She tried not to think about it too much.

She was surprised to see a Jedi in the audience, and even more so that he corrected the obvious historical errors being presented as truth. She found herself wishing that Alex StormWolf were here, and felt a profound sense of worry sweep over her again. He'd vanished off the radar again without telling her where he was going. The last time he'd done that, Seku had spent the better part of three years tracking him down. She prayed fervently that he hadn't fallen to the Dark Side again like he'd gone and done the last time around, but there was a nagging feeling in her guts that told her he had.

Seku was so lost in thought about Alex as she wandered through the exhibits, that she practically walked straight into Caltin Vanagor and bounced off him like hitting a wall.

"Begging your pardon, Master Jedi," she stammered, feeling herself blushing deeply with embarrassment.

Tags- Caltin Vanagor
Zel Sharratt

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Museum, Coruscant
Outfit: Dress
Tag: Caltin Vanagor | Zel Sharratt | Seku Bondara

Lily had ventured out of the Jedi Temple, choosing a more refined outfit than usual for what she had worn since her arrival on Coruscant, she decided to put more effort into her outfit of choice for the evening to explore the city that lied beyond the Jedi Temple. In fact she had heard there was a museum that was focused on the events of galactic history, while there was a whole night life and drinking that a person could explore or desire to explore at her age, Lily was more intrigued by the museum. What information could lie there that she could take to learn from and understand.

To see how events portrayed in the museum measured against the records stored in the Jedi archives that Lily had slowly been combing through as part of her start as a Jedi Padawan, it was especially important for her since she had no true prior experiences or understanding of galactic events or the Jedi since her mother ensured that the most that Lily knew were the key events and history of Eshan, as well as understanding the importance and significance of their culture as well. That had been an intense learning experience for Lily in of itself.

Entering the museum, Lily started moving around and let her sharp, curious eyes gaze over the exhibitions and the information that was connected to the pieces. She noted the constants throughout Galactic history, the inability to adapt, as if history was always destined to repeat. Where empires rose, they fell by heroes only for new dangers to arise in the ashes. It did not matter whether people knew the truths of history or not, there would be those that thought they were above such matters and continue to plunge the galaxy into dark ages, war strife in the galaxy and repeat events.

Lily looked around curious to see the ongoings of others and what they were thinking and feeling.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

“The only reason time seems to be moving rather fast is that sometimes we’re too busy living in the past.”
― Dominic Riccitello​

Telling the story from the perspective of an anonymous Jedi, it was easy to figure out that Vanagor was recounting his own memories, but not wanting to come off as arrogant. In addition to his wisdom, skill, and courage, Jedi Master Caltin Vanagor was regarded as one of the greatest figures of his time by many; he did not garner the attention of a “Kenobi” or a “Koon” or “Windu” but he made his mark. As the Jedi Order reached its zenith of power and influence in the galaxy, he lived during a time of great turmoil.

The Jedi had been at the forefront of the conflict during the Clone Wars, pitting the Republic against the Separatists. He led his troops with a combination of tactical brilliance and compassion for all those affected by the war, making him one of the most skilled Jedi Generals of all time.

However, the Clone Wars had taken a heavy toll on the Jedi Order, resulting in their swift and unexpected downfall. The rise of the Galactic Empire had marked the end of an era, and the Jedi had been hunted down and nearly eradicated.

Master Vanagor had survived the purge, but he had been forced to go into hiding, his once-great powers diminished by the loss of so many of his fellow Jedi. The big man never truly did “hide” though, standing as a champion for a small town on the outskirts of the galaxy.

Years had passed, and the galaxy had changed his once-great powers. The New Jedi Order had risen from the ashes of the old, but it was a different kind of Jedi Order than the one that had existed during Master Vanagor's earlier time. And so, Master Vanagor found himself in a small village on the outskirts of the galaxy, telling stories to children about the Jedi of his time, and how they were different from the Jedi of then.

He spoke of the compassion and selflessness that had guided his actions during the Clone Wars, and how the Jedi of his time had always put the needs of others above their own. He spoke of the importance of the Jedi Code, and how it had kept them grounded in the face of temptation and darkness. He spoke of the downfall of the Jedi Order, and how the lesson of their failure was one that all Jedi should remember.

But he also spoke of hope, and of his belief that the Jedi could rise again, stronger and wiser than ever before. Vanagor recounted how he was discovered and returned to the New Order to assist in the rebirth and growth of the Jedi in the galaxy.

As the children listened to Master Vanagor's stories, they were filled with a sense of wonder and awe. They realized that the Jedi of old had been much more than just warriors, that they had been beacons of hope and symbols of justice in a galaxy torn apart by war and conflict.

And they realized that even in the darkest of times, there was always a chance for redemption and renewal, that the lessons of the past could guide them. He had noticed a young Padawan making her way into the place and looking around. She did not catch his attention so much as the armored individual across the campus. What’s with that level of gear? Was he Mandalorian?

He did not notice the Twi’Lek until she ran into him. Looking to the poor thing, clearly embarrassed, he shrugged.

No worries. Are you alright?

tag: Lily Decoria | Seku Bondara | Zel Sharratt | OPEN

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
Sanctuary Island

 

[Xalax]

Xalax did not have a good explanation for why exactly he had chosen to visit this museum. He told himself that it was to gather more data about the centuries that he had spent stranded on the outer edge of the Galaxy. However, there was definitely a deeper reason. Nostalgia, perhaps? It was such a stereotypically organic way of thinking, but Xalax seemed to be experiencing some version of it.

Truth be told, Xalax was beginning to reconsider if exterminating all organic life in the Galaxy was really an objective he should continue to pursue. He had made no progress towards it for a long time, and he calculated that his chances of making significant progress within the next 20 years were less than 1%. Perhaps he could find a different strategy for establishing droid superiority?

That would be a question for the future. Xalax was here to learn about the past. He decided to walk to the Clone Wars exhibit first, to better understand how exactly the war had ended. His conjecture of how it had ended was something like this:

The Republic had infected the Separatist Droid Forces with an incredibly virulent piece of malware, which caused them to shut down. Immediately afterwards, a team of Clone Assassins infiltrated the Separatist Fortress on Mustafar, and massacred the Separatist Council. The Republic then renamed itself The Empire, and went on an anti-corruption crackdown, which resulted in the dissolution of the Jedi, the Clones, and the Senate.

Obviously, there were some logical inconsistencies in this version of events. And that was why Xalax was here.

As Xalax walked into the Clone Wars exhibit, he observed a tall, muscular Human male. While Xalax had never actually observed a Jedi in person, this Human was wearing attire consistent with Xalax’s information on what Jedi wore. He was talking to a group of museum visitors about the history of the Clone Wars. Interestingly, he spoke as if he had witnessed the events he spoke of in-person. Could this Jedi be as old as Xalax was? Xalax was not aware of Humans living this long, so perhaps he had been cryogenically frozen at some point.

After the Jedi was done talking, Xalax decided that he should converse with him later. For now, he would look at the exhibits himself. He started by looking at the section about the Battle of Lexrul, a battle he had commanded the Droid Forces at. He instantly noticed inconsistencies with his recollection of the events there. For example, the exhibit displayed Clones from the 41st Elite Corps, while the 327th Star Corps had fought in the actual battle. Even worse, it showed the Clones completely routing the Droids, which is the exact opposite of Xalax’s recollection of the actual battle.

“The Jedi Master was right. This display is not accurate.” Xalax said to nobody in particular.

 

[Seku Bondara]

"Yeah, I'll live," Seku answered, still feeling pretty embarrassed. "Should have been more aware of my surroundings. Well...actually...now that I think about it...I'm not alright..not entirely."

Seku paused, trying to find her train of thought again.

"It's my friend...Alex StormWolf. He's a Jedi, like you. I haven't heard from him in weeks, and I have this nagging feeling he's gone down a path I can't follow. It's happened before...it's a long story."

Caltin Vanagor
Zel Sharratt
Lily Decoria
Xalax

 

[Zel Sharratt]

Coruscant, Museum of Intergalactic History
Tags: Lily Decoria , Caltin Vanagor , Seku Bondara , Xalax

​

“The Jedi Master was right. This display is not accurate.”

"Rather astute of you, stranger," Zel chimed in as he passed by a lone tactical droid in the Clone Wars exhibit. "Time has not been kind to the pursuit of knowledge. Details are lost in the turbulent rise and fall of civilizations, slipping through the cracks until only myth remains."

The Mandalorian's domed helmet turned to assess the droid. By the look of them, they were the real deal, a Super Tactical Droid that had clearly made some modifications to themselves. A walking trove of knowledge who had been active for that long surely could spot where details had been lost over time.

"Ah, but you seem to have far more intimate knowledge of this era," he noted. "Perhaps you'd be willing to share some of your knowledge, friend. I happen to be a traveling historian, chronicling the tumultuous history of our galaxy. I cannot offer much in the way of payment, but I would certainly be grateful for the first-hand account."

Nothing was more valuable than a first hand account when it came to history.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

“The only reason time seems to be moving rather fast is that sometimes we’re too busy living in the past.”
― Dominic Riccitello​

Vanagor was less than happy to see a Battledroid in his midst, but his curiosity was piqued when the droid acknowledged his previous observation. Despite his initial disgust, he found himself intrigued by the possibility of learning something new from this momentary interaction with the machine. As he listened closely to the droid's explanation, he couldn't help but feel a new sense of respect for the intelligent beings he had once dismissed as unthinking automatons. It was a moment of enlightenment that would stay with him for a long time to come.

Master Vanagor noticed that Twilek Seku was looking worried and distressed as she spoke about her "Jedi" friend, Alex. She explained how her friend had disappeared without a trace, and she was concerned for his safety. Master Vanagor listened patiently and tried to offer some reassurance.

Alex... the name sounds familiar, but I am not sure if we have ever met, he said. But if he is indeed a Jedi, then he must be quite resourceful. He must have some way to find his way back to you.

Though his words may have provided the hope she might have needed (he was not sure) Master Vanagor could see some of the tension melting off her face. He continued, I know it's difficult to be separated from those we care about, but rest assured, he is capable of taking care of himself. If he is a Jedi, then he is a protector of the galaxy, just like we all are.

Master Vanagor understood that she needed some sense of hope, and he hoped that he had provided what little he could. However, Master Vanagor's curiosity was piqued as he overheard a conversation between an imposing Mandalorian and a rusty battledroid, discussing the devastating Clone Wars. Although he had personally experienced the horrors of that conflict, Vanagor hesitated to interject. The Mandalorian's peculiar appearance and the battledroid's obsolete programming were a stark contrast to the Jedi's traditional teachings, and he questioned whether his input would be welcomed. Nevertheless, as he listened closely to their debate, his fingers twitched slightly -- a telltale sign that the Force was urging him to speak out.


tag: Lily Decoria | Seku Bondara | Zel Sharratt | OPEN

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
Sanctuary Island

 

[Xalax]

Tags: Zel Sharratt , Caltin Vanagor

Xalax turned towards the individual who responded to his observation. He appeared to be an organic, but was wearing a body-encasing suit, so Xalax could not positively identify his species. His helmet resembled a piece of ancient scuba gear, but he did not appear to be a diver.

In response to the man’s statement about the loss of information, Xalax stated “It is unfortunate that facts and reason are consumed by the cycle of Galactic history. While I was designed for war, the cost of conflict is not lost on me.” Xalax decided that it would be best to not mention the fact that he blamed organic life for the “cycle”.

When the helmeted man asked about Xalax’s experiences in the Clone Wars, this especially piqued his interest. “I did indeed partake in the Clone Wars. In fact, I was the commander of the Droid Forces at the Battle of Lexrul. I say Droid forces, because by the time the battle had actually started, our organic supervisors had abandoned us, believing the battle to be a lost cause.” Xalax said, as he pointed to the holographic display, showcasing the battle.

As if on cue, a full color holographic image of a much, much younger Xalax appeared in the display, standing around a conference table with three battle droid commander. The holographic Xalax still had his eye visor, and lacked his array of mismatched parts. He had a jet black and dark green paint job, which looked much brighter than it did on the real Xalax. “The display contains several differences from my recollection of the battle. Most notably, the battle was a Separatist victory rather than a Republic victory. My adversaries in the battle were the 327th Star Corps, lead by Marshal Commander CC-5052.”

Xalax paused for a moment. He noticed the Jedi Master from earlier nearby. The Jedi was watching him and the helmeted man discuss the Clone Wars. He looked as if he was about to say something, but had decided not to. Xalax continued with his story.

“CC-5052’s forces outnumbered mine by a 4:1 ratio. This fact combined with his reputation for ruthlessly pursuing mission objectives made my organic superiors believe that Lexrul was a lost cause. They abandoned the planet, just before the battle began, leaving me and the droids under my command as a metaphorical sacrifice for the Republic.”

“However, I managed to lead us to victory. Lexrul is a Ecumenopolis, so I positioned most of my forces in the lower levels of the planet, in strategic choke points. The battle lasted for weeks, and CC-5052 wasted hundreds of his troopers attempting to force us out. Eventually, Republic High Command directly ordered CC-5052 to withdraw from Lexrul, ending the battle.”

Xalax concluded his story. He had been talking for quite some time, and determined it would be considered rude by organic standards to continue speaking. After listening to the helmeted man react to his story, Xalax asked “While I experienced the Clone Wars firsthand, unfortunately my knowledge of how they ended is very limited. Could you please enlighten me?”

 

[Seku Bondara]

Seku nodded at she took in what Master Vanagor was saying, and yet she couldn't help but overhear the debate between a Mandalorian and a battle droid of ancient design.

"Am I seeing things here, or is a battle droid arguing with a Mandalorian about the Clone Wars?"

Seku had seen a lot of unusual things in her life, but the sight of an organic debating with a droid about ancient history definitely ranked in the top five for the most unusual.

Caltin Vanagor
Zel Sharratt
Lily Decoria
Xalax

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Interceptor Gear

Armed With: Ionised Stun Pistol

Nathan's Lightsaber

Objective: Observe proceedings

He was between assignments from a lot of people. He didn't take breaks normally. Didn't rest. Only ever the next task at hand. However another mandated rest period from Moya Virtu had brought him back to Coruscant.

On a whim, he had decided to superficially take in the recent history, so everything and everyone he encountered would stop being so out of context. He didn't particularly care if it was most times. But there were aspects of this era that were increasingly a mystery to him that could prove lethal in the wrong circumstances.

He had set foot on Coruscant with his fighter, Lysandra-1, the battered old Aurek having undergone recent tune ups and repairs. He was more comfortable with it then he was other starfighters. It was one of the only things he trusted.

He had visited Coruscant once, in the Gulag Era, to visit the ruins of the Jedi Temple to construct a Lightsaber under De Lifte's tutelage. The place had been a hell hole. Seeing it in this, era, alive, however, stirred nothing in him.

He walked the museum with an almost unnaturally precise degree of care, face a cold, yet placid expression that never seemed to change, black clothes making him a dark speck amongst crowds wearing bright articles. He didn't speak to anyone, and most instinctively avoided him, his grim demeanor a far cry from most of the people they were used to encountering who possessed a Lightsaber, his walk too measured.

He'd had the benefit of education during the Plague: He too spotted many of the historical inaccuracies. But he didn't speak up about them. He was more interested in just looking at stuff.

He hesitated as he went into the Gulag Era section. But he forced himself to after a brief moment.

There were considerably less inaccuracies in this section, due to it being more recent history. But he could still spot some. He saw photos of the Devastation. The mass graves. Unburied bodies in the streets. Jedi all but helpless to stop the madness around them. Three brutal centuries of Galactic Quarantine and Disease running rampant. No one had ever seen anything so devastating as this Gulag Virus before. No one had since.

Nathan felt the approaching presence of another Jedi. He had no name other than Nathan in the NJO, or any other extant Jedi Order. No ID. No permanent residence. He was simply there. Among them.

Nathan turned, spotted a Zabrak Jedi.

"You are the one called Nathan, correct?" The dark skinned man asked.

"I am." Nathan confirmed stoically.

"Pardon the intrusion. My name is J'cin Brandl. I fought in the battle of Exegol. Like yourself."

"I don't understand where this is going." Nathan replied, head tilting to one side very very slightly in curiosity.

"You don't remember?"

"No. Should I?"

J'cin blinked.

"You saved my life at Exegol. A Sith was about to dismember me."

"Oh." There was no change in his tone or expression.

"I wanted to thank you. A Jedi must be prepared to accept death, but that doesn't mean we can't be relieved when it doesn't happen."

"Oh. OK."

J'cin raised an eyebrow.

"You are a most curious servant of the Force, Nathan."

"No comment."

"I sense a great void in you. Something terrible, that has left it's mark. Like a piece of your very soul has been ripped out."

"No comment." Nathan repeated. "Now if that's all..." he started to walk off. J'cin gestured for him to stop and he did.

"Don't shut out your fellow Jedi. Whatever it is. Whatever happened, we can help you." J'cin said.

The other Jedi departed. Nathan shrugged and went on his merry way.

He decided to head into the Clone Wars exhibit, spotted yet another Jedi, talking about various wars, and his role in them. It was certainly impressive, and Nathan would have traded a decade of his own troubles for Vanagor's worst day, (Cold Storage: 700 XP) but Nathan would not have spoken, had he been given the opportunity. Not out of some false modesty, but because he wasn't sure he could have given a recollection of events that hadn't been tainted by age and the fog of conflict, by his perception of his role and the scale it had in said conflict. Vanagor of course had every right to speak. Just as Nathan had every right not to break silence.

Nathan headed over to a display of recreated Jedi Commander Armor. These had been in the alcoves of Castle Bloodscrawl. Silent reminders not to trust anonymous armies.

Of all the many ghosts he had been forced to deal with as natural hazards, the ghosts of the Clone Wars were more frequent than most. He couldn't begin to count the number of times he had gotten by on the technology. He wouldn't have dared put on anything that made him look like a Jedi back in the day. Would have been a great way to his head shot off.

His eyes then fell on an actual Lightsaber on display and he went cold from surprise.

It was the Lightsaber of one of his ancestors. The founder of the Bloodscrawl Family after the Empire fell.

Antony Bloodscrawl's Lightsaber stared at him tauntingly.

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Museum, Coruscant
Outfit: Dress
Tag: Caltin Vanagor | Zel Sharratt | Seku Bondara | Xalax | Nathan Bloodscrawl

The idea that all these historical documents and information being laid out was woefully inaccurate seemed to make Lily only want to giggle. It seemed that the written documentation of history was no more accurate than the oral traditions of others. Lily was curious as to what the Jedi that seemed to be starting the conversation on adapting the history of the Clone Wars era, describing a particular Jedi. It came across boastful in a manner for Lily, perhaps because she could tell from his body language that he was speaking of himself and not of another Jedi. It was also folly to think that the Jedi during the Clone Wars were not victims of their own foolish and blindness, from what she had understood, the Jedi during the Clone Wars were far from the ideal that the Jedi had held themselves up to be.

Especially since they were blind to the Sith that stood right in front of them.

However, she made no comments, it was not her place to be here and lecture, she was here to learn and understand. Figure out the Jedi and attempt to understand the history that the Jedi faced over time. It was the repeated history, war with Sith, defeat Sith then Sith return with a bigger, stronger army. There was a cycle of events that seemed to drive Lily endless with curiosity. If it was so clear that the war with Sith was an endless cycle of fighting and never ending, why did one not simply stop fighting. Eventually there would be no one left to continue the fight if all they ever did was war against one another.

Lily sighed, uncertain that she would get her answers here and that she might be better off heading back to archives and doing more research there. For now, she explored the exhibits that were not Jedi or Force User related. It was good to understand the histories of others as well as the Jedi.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

“The only reason time seems to be moving rather fast is that sometimes we’re too busy living in the past.”
― Dominic Riccitello​

He listened to the arguing….

… the murmurs of others…

…. He could feel the tension in the room.

This was becoming a debate about one thing and not the galaxy as a whole. This wasn’t what he wanted to bring up, but again, as always, it seems Caltin’s intentions were misunderstood. What would he do about it this time, though? Would the big man just shake his head and walk away like he normally did or would he do something about this?

SNAP-HISS

The elevation and ignition of his lightsaber “Conservator” was what brought all eyes onto the Jedi Master who just as quickly put the weapon away.

Apologies, I just wanted everyone’s attention.

Climbing up onto a nearby chair, the big man surveyed the room, who quickly seemed to be losing interest in the proceedings.

I get it. To many of you, I’m “Just another Jedi showing off”. Of course that is the way of this day and age, but I digress. I will not continue to bore anyone who does not want to listen, but the Clone Wars? This?

He waved his hands around in an odd sense of disappointment.

This is the fault of none of you, but what you have learned about the past? I am not an expert on Galactic History as a whole, but the Jedi? The Purge? … Who here can definitively prove intimate knowledge of the Clone Wars in this room that is not a reconditioned battle droid? Who can provide details of the Purge?

Maybe there was a sense of sarcasm in his town, in his search around the room for raised hands, but the rhetorical question yielded the point he was trying to make as he extended his own appendage to the heavens. There was a mixture of sarcasm and surprise from those watching.

For those of you who do not know me by name, Greetings, I am Jedi Master Caltin Vanagor of the “Old” Jedi Order, the old “New Jedi Order”, and so on. I stand before you today to share with you a story that seems to have become little more than a romanticized legend in the galaxy. A story of survival, of perseverance, of deception and of hope, of betrayal and of eventual redemption. A story that has been told and retold countless times, but one that remains as vivid and haunting as the days that those events had happened.

Nearly nine hundred years ago, I was a young Jedi Knight serving in the galaxy when we were called to Geonosis. The battle was… I will never forget the weapons fire… the fallen bodies… Felucia… Kashyyyk…. The Clone Wars was not some animated holo-vid show for kids or kids at heart. It was destructive… It was brutality envisioned and ultimately a fruitless, anticlimactic deception all to satisfy the whims of one solitary dark soul. A soul that prayed of the naivete of a galaxy that had become complacent with the Jedi being around. A soul that prayed on the excess and depraved lifestyle that many had gained and the ill feelings that thrived in between planets. It was meant to be a time of peace and prosperity, a time when the Jedi Order was revered and respected throughout the galaxy.

A deep sigh and full body shimmy, not “full shimmy” but just a move that would make him more comfortable, more at ease. As some asked questions about the events of the Clone Wars, he answered them, telling details that no one else would have known. He answered to no one, he did not care who knew, after all he was telling the truth.

But that all changed in a night in the Jedi Temple here on Coruscant, a place built, designed and intended to have been a beacon for what the Jedi are supposed to mean. A beacon of hope for the galaxy to live in peace. That night that tarnished and nearly destroyed that memory and belief forever.

The night of the attack was a nightmare. The air was thick with the stench of death and destruction, and the sound of blaster fire echoed through the halls. I remember running through the corridors, my lightsaber in hand, trying to find any survivors. But everywhere I looked, I saw only the bodies of my fallen comrades. I wasn’t always this way… annoyed… standoffish… no… I was personable… but that night? Seeing so many of my colleagues and friends fallen at the hands of soldiers we had stood and fought beside… trusted with our lives… I became a different person that day. I changed not out of bitterness… or out of anger… or regret… or anything.

I changed so that no one else would have to.

Sure, I know it is ridiculous… like I should be some “Caped Crusader'' running along the rooftops of some Gotham, but the Jedi could still mean something to someone if given the chance. It was a matter of getting that chance.

Anyway, I was one of the lucky ones, if you want to call it that. I managed to escape, but not before helping many of the younglings get out of the Temple and flee into the shadows of the city. For months, I lived in hiding, always on the run from the Sith and their minions, fighting Inquisitors with guerilla tactics I wish I had never had to learn. It was a time of great darkness, a time when hope seemed like a distant dream.

But I survived. And in surviving, I learned a great deal about myself and about the Jedi Order. I learned I may have a reputation for stoicism and disgust was not entirely unfounded, but that it was born out of the pain and suffering I… that we had endured. I learned that our greatest strength was not in our lightsabers or the Force, but in our unwavering commitment to justice and peace. In our unwavering commitment to the people, many of whom had given up on us.

And most of all, I learned that the galaxy needs to remember what the Jedi truly are. Not just what the history books want to write, for those are only the opinions of the writers. The Jedi are not just warriors or mystics or philosophers. We are all of those things and more. We are the guardians of the light, the defenders of the innocent, and the champions of the oppressed.

But too often, the galaxy forgets this. Too often, we are seen as relics of a bygone era, or worse, as tools of the Republic or the Empire, or Concord, or whatever. We are reduced to caricatures, our true nature obscured by the prejudices and biases of those who would seek to control us. Why? Because it is too easy to allow this and not to follow through.

Head down, there was a tinge of resentment in his voice in making that comment, but he soldered on. He went on about how the history books that were read today are often just the opinions of their writers, and they do not always paint an accurate picture of the past. Caltin went on about how it was important to take a closer look at what happened during the Jedi purge and learn from the events that transpired from the Clone Wars as a whole. Sure, he might have been repeating some things but it was important to understand the motives of those who sought to destroy The Jedi and those who supported them in order to ensure that such atrocities do not happen again. Not just to the Jedi, but to anyone.

The Jedi are not just warriors or protectors of the galaxy, I know that this is a hard pill to swallow considering the goings on of the galaxy and the wars that many of today’s Jedi have been pulled into. We are so much more than that. We are beacons of hope and defenders of justice. We are custodians of knowledge and guardians of the light. We stand up for what is right, even in the face of overwhelming odds.

So I implore you, to remember the true nature of the Jedi. To honor the sacrifices of those who came before us, and to ensure that no youngling ever has to experience the torturous events that I and so many others endured. Let us stand together, as one galaxy, and let the light of the Jedi shine bright once more. Do not do this simply for the Jedi, or the Galactic Alliance, or Coruscant, or anyone but yourselves. Do this so that you can honestly understand the truth, no matter what it is. Don’t take the word of a man who has lived entirely too long and has had experiences that few should ever have to, do it so that you can live the life you were meant to. If you are so worried about the Jedi, do it so that one day we can put our lightsabers down once and for all.

tag: Lily Decoria | Seku Bondara | Zel Sharratt | OPEN

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
Sanctuary Island

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Museum, Coruscant
Outfit: Dress
Tag: Caltin Vanagor | Zel Sharratt | Seku Bondara | Xalax | Nathan Bloodscrawl

There was the ignition of a Lightsaber during the discussions of some talking about a war that happened centuries ago. Lily turned around to see the large man declare himself the Jedi Master Caltin Vanagor, the name brought no recognition beyond confirming that he had previously told the tale of himself as part of the exhibition. He then talked, some might call rant, about the truth of the wars. That they were dangerous times and that the aftermath of the wars was just as dangerous for the Jedi due to the Jedi Purge that the Galactic Empire jumped into. Lily tilted her head, while she was not one common with war or the difficulties it played on a person, was the galaxy not entering a period of peace sought after a long and arduous war called the Second Great Hyperspace War.

Were not they all understanding how terrible war was, the costs it plagues people and how it troubled others. The suffering many go through. The issues that Jedi face being seen as purely warriors and caricatures of themselves since they unable to be peace keepers in wars against Sith, they must take a more aggressive stance that not all are able to cope with. People like her aunt who suffered a crisis of identity, losing a part of herself in the constant fighting and failing to protect lives they are swore to save.

"Excuse me Master Caltin, but no one called the Clone Wars an animated holovid for kids. I do not think anyone here believes that to be true. Especially since many here have lived through a particularly long, terrible war themselves. While we are not 900 years old with all the experiences you have, some of us have been born and raised during one of the most chaotic and deadliest times the galaxy has faced." Lily's voice was neutral, she was not attempting to undermine the experiences the Jedi Master spoke of, they sounded terrible indeed, but everyone around this Jedi Master had some connection to lost and pain themselves, to suggest they looked down at the events of the Clone Wars as something childish seemed to a giant leap of logic in her mind.

She sighed, "this era of peace we are entering is meant to be a time for many Jedi to recover and heal from the war. While complete peace has not been achieved and that will certainly take time, I am sure, we are entering the period of time for the first time in decades that the idea of Jedi being peace keepers and not warriors against Sith can truly be considered." From her understanding, even before the war with the Maw had started those ideas of peace were not thought of as possible with so many Sith factions rising and falling in tandem with Jedi and Republic factions.

"While accuracy of historic events is important. Do not infantile us, we have dealt with difficult times ourselves." Lily's cheek flushed as she realised she had said a lot and allowed her stance as a noblewoman, not a Jedi Padawan, determine how she spoke to the Jedi Master. "I am sure others will find your tales of great interest, relatable and informative once you have turned your Lightsaber off."

With that, Lily turned to leave, breathing in deeply to soothe her nerves and decided to head back to the temple since there was little more for her here.

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Nathan continued staring at the sword of his Ancestor as Caltin Vanagor launched into his explanation. Nathan offered no commentary. Not even a glance as Vanagor activated his blade, speaking loudly of how he was forced to change. Be stronger for others.

He wondered if he would ever reach that stage. Where he would be standing on a chair to talk about his life experiences and all they had done to him.

He couldn't see himself doing that, certainly.

Nathan found himself reminiscing. He couldn't help it...

Corellia, Gulag Era

A whole Galaxy ravaged by a disease the Light Side cannot cure is gonna be rife with injustice.

Corellia was just as fethed up by the Plague as any other planet.

It is a misconception and inaccuracy that space travel stopped completely during the Plague. That all worlds were completely cut off. They were not. But the contact they received between one another as knowledge was forgotten, hyperspace routes lost, was often so miniscule they might as well have been. Very few people could still do space travel, and it was often limited to the exceptionally wealthy or well equipped individual jealously guarding a surplus of Hypermatter Fuel, or a larger organization that saw which way the wind was blowing when the Plague first started spreading and began stockpiling resources. Other planets, wealthy and long protected, became mini fortresses in the blackness of space, forbidding virtually all travel to and from their world, in an attempt to keep the Plague from reaching them.

For the well equipped who could pull it off, it was once an extremely common tactic, when all else had failed to prevent the Plague from spreading to non infected areas, to raze an infected surface area with Turbolasers and a follow up of special Molecular Purge Bombs to try an kill a contained area full of infected. In some cases it worked. In most, it didn't. The Plague never seemed to discriminate between what was an acceptable host and what wasn't. Too many birds, rodents and insects to serve as carriers. To get all of 'those', you would have to be exceptionally lucky. The hunt was on for the person who had a natural immunity. But it was a big Galaxy, and not many were left who had the capacity for long term research. Some even saw the Plague as opportunity, a chance to get away with some REAL scumbag chit. Why would they WANT to cure it?

It was in what was left of the rural countryside. By some miracle, the infection hadn't breached these parts. It was one of the only places left on Corellia where those EXTREMELY FEW smuggler ships could still land and disembark their now extremely rare goods, like Bacta and Anti-Biotics. Exorbitant sums. The prices they charged for extra passengers would have been considered too extreme even among the most hardened and pitiless of today's smugglers.

The ship that set down in the foggy woodlands was an old gunship of various patchwork parts, barely running, taken out only when necessary. For the highest price that could be paid.

You wouldn't think Bounty Hunting would be a profession that would get much traction as a business with a Galactic Pandemic in its prime. On the contrary, Bounty Hunting soared. Bounty Hunters were often the only people still traveling the stars on a yearly basis, as it was hidiously expensive to field anything larger than a light freighter, and the standard bounty payout was still just enough to patch up damage or refuel, at the cost of there being basically no resupply or guaranteed way of obtaining spare parts: You had to scavenge whatever you found, wherever you traveled. The most common ship larger than that was a ship about the size of a Hammerhead , and then often stationed close to a home world for those who could afford it. Anybody who could have fielded a Venator on a regular basis might as well have been in control of The Death Star. A small fleet of patrol ships, corvettes, might as well have been armada. That's how crap the Gulag Plague was. Bounty Hunters also had to double as smugglers also, just to make sure ends REALLY met. If you wanted to know what was going on in a given system, the only option, often enough, was to simply talk to one of them.

Two figures stepped off the gunship, one that rare nightsister that had made it off Dathomir, the other a Mandalorian man in sky blue armor, a rusted Lightsaber in his grip. The Nightsister, a slender, bony woman in red wrappings, held two serrated vibro-swords.

"Are you certain the Jedi is here, my love?" The Nightsister asked The Mandalorian.

"Certain. The village beyond is untouched by the Plague." The Mandalorian answered.

"So what are we dealing with? A Knight?"

"Padawan."

"Where from?"

"No one is sure. Some kid, managed to trade his way onto a supply ship. He's been seen in the woods."

"Villagers know he's Jedi?" The Nightsister asked.

"Villagers got bigger problems than to care about that chit." The Mandalorian answered.

"How much is he worth?"

"Twenty One Million."

The Nightsister turned to her boyfriend, folding her arms, disbelief etched into pale features covered in black tattoo lines.

"Who the feth's paying that much for a Padawan? Did you verify the client?"

"A Sorceress. Who who controls blood."

"Wonder what The Padawan did to piss her off." The Nightsister said to herself as she continued walking through the woods.

"No wonder you wanted to come to Corellia. This is big. This could tide us over for years. Maybe we could actually afford those TIE Solar panels."

"I told you, those things are defective. Warped on the surface. What they're charging for just the warped stuff is Space-Lane Robbery!"

"Well, we gotta think of something! Business was pretty good this year, but I've been waking up in a cold sweat over the ship reactor every night for the past eight weeks. If that thing goes when we're in transit, we're screwed."

"You worry too much. I'd get it up and running." The Mandalorian grumbled as he kept pace.

"But how many parts...most of which are 'already' old, mind you--would you have to cannibalize?" The Nightsister questioned. "We get this kid, I suggest we go out of our way to find a generator built at least a year before the Plague started to spread. Those tend to be the most intact."

"That'll cost us probably half the check in of itself." her boyfriend protested.

"Better a burned check than a power shortage at the wrong time. You're sure that thing will take off?"

"I inspected it just before we left. The Repulsorlifts are in perfect working order. I even replaced the semi conductors!" The Mandalorian replied irritably, throwing a hand up in frustration

"We'll talk about this later." she said, coming to a stop ten meters from a repulsor wagon being pulled by Bomas on a dirt trail. The Driver, an old man, dressed in scavenged dark clothing with a bunch of old components dangling from various holsters he wore, with a long, wavy haired white beard, immediately pointed a rifle at both.

"Don't come no closer! Who the hell are you?" he growled.

"Traders." The Mandalorian called . 'Traders' in this era was code for 'Hired Gun'.

"Ah. You're here for the boy."

"You've seen him? Would you be so obliging as to point us his way?" It said a lot about how bad things were that even The Dark Jedi were having to be on their best behavior, if only to minimize the risk of contact, and thus, infection. Plus, if you started killing unnecessarily, it had more severe consequences than normal if you were low level like these pair were--who would you trade with? Sure, the Chaotic Evil types, like The Cult of The Brain Demon, were still around, but they had built in advantages to behave that way.

"He's in the valley up ahead...buncha groves in there..." The old man barked. "Ornery Feth...he's killed the last two Traders who went after him."

Most people were too busy staying alive to risk angering two obvious Mercenaries by being dodgy. The plague was so severe it really WAS easier to just tell the truth and bank on the hope you were too low level to waste the effort to kill on, because you usually were.

"So he's probably heavily armed." The Mandalorian muttered.

"The surviving ones always are at this point." The Nightsister pointed out.

"True."

"I'd walk away, if I was you. Them previous fellers that gone and went after 'im..." The old man trailed, spitting on the ground. "They didn't die well. And they didn't die quickly neither."

"He torture them or something?" The Nightsister asked, narrowing her eyes.

The Old Man spat on the ground.

"Nah. Nuthin' like that. He...well...it's more he arranged things so they took care of themselves."

"Booby-Traps. Great." The Mandalorian grumbled.

"Nah. No traps. Distraction." The Old Man muttered. "You'll see."

"You seem to know a lot about him."

"Enough to stay the feth away. Whatever he's done, he don't bother me." The Old Man replied in a grouchy manner as he began riding off. "Far as I'm concerned, he's just another ghost in these woods."

The pair of Dark Jedi Bounty Hunters watched as the old man went away.

"Helpful chap." The Mandalorian chirped.

"I've got a bad feeling about this..." she replied, staring at the untouched valley.

"He's a runt with a few extra weapons playing Mysterious Fugitive Hermit. Nothing we haven't seen before."

"The old man didn't seem to think highly of our chances."

"That old man don't give a feth enough to even waste time thinking what our chances are or aren't." The Mandalorian replied irritably. "Besides, what would 'he' know?"

"I guess..." The Nightsister sighed.

The journey to the untouched valley took forty five minutes, and the pair were greeted to a wide expanse of green grass and leafy trees in many colors. It was just about sundown.

The Red Lightsaber of The Mandalorian activated. He felt a faint presence suddenly.

"Alright! Come out! You've nowhere to run!" he bellowed in the woods.

No reply.

A blaster shot rang out from a tree beyond, making them both scatter. The Mandalorian ducked behind a large boulder while the Nightsister hid behind a tree with some bushes.

"Can you sense him?" The Mandalorian asked.

"No. He's hiding his presence." she answered.

The Mandalorian peaked his head from cover, and another blaster shot rang out in the distance. He silently signalled her, and she nodded, going to flank the shooter through a row of trees and rocks covered with moss.

He jumped from cover swatting aside laser bolt after laser bolt. He was pleased the Padawan was displaying some pragmatism--even here, even now, in the time of Plague there were still Jedi who clung to the concept of facing all threats with only the Force and a Lightsaber, out in the open.

Those types didn't last long unless they were really really lucky. Or genuinely good at it.

Such people were very, very few.

So far, however, he remained ultimately unimpressed...if this was what the Padawan had come to understand about his situation, that it was occasionally handy to have an accurate rifle, then he would be easy to bring down.

But as he got closer to the shooter's position, he began to feel unease. Something wasn't right. The shot ALWAYS came from the same trajectory, no attempt to actually hit anything vital, as the next shot passed over his head, the Mandalorian's helmet systems zeroed in on a hand assembled device with a sniper rifle mounted on it, being fired by remote. The Mandalorian gripped it with the Force, crushing the device as his annoyance flared. His prey understood more, as the old man had affirmed. But he couldn't be far--

He remembered a moment when he was a child, hunting with his grandfather in the wastes of Concord Dawn. There was an old trick his father had taught him for hunting aggressive bandits attacking their livestock.

The trick was to set up a funnel, one way in, one way out. Fix a weapon to a dummy with a mechanical arm, draw fire, bait them into trying to flank the shooter--

The Mandalorian wheeled around, having too late realized the ploy.

"KARA!" he yelled.

The Nightsister, who had been creeping up on the shooter's position saw a rustle of movement in the corner of her eye.

The head of a young man with very dark, messy hair, lower face covered by a tattered gray rag, eyes milky white and scarred from shrapnel, poked out of the bushes next to her. He made no sound. She froze at the sight of those blind eyes.

"Clever boy." she hissed, whipping her hand towards him in a desperate attempt to get off a flame spell, only to let out a shriek as a common, rusty farmer's pitchfork was shoved into her ribcage and she was dragged into the bushes, screaming. (You are very much alive when they start to eat you: 700 XP)

The Mandalorian was running at top speed, cursing. It was his fault. He'd been thinking about the millions so much that it hadn't actually occured to him that the Padawan might be a genuine threat. After all, most Padawans don't warrant that kind of money. He had thought it was just incentive.

Now Kara was paying for it.

He collapsed in shock and rage as he felt her die, her screams stopped.

He came across her body, laying face down. They were in a clearing surrounded by trees. Perfect ambush spots.

The scavenged B2 Blaster Cannons on his left gauntlet, hooked to a generator on his back, snapped into position. He unloaded on the trees all around him, first with cannon shots, then rocket attacks, then he tossed thermal detonators, all he had, in his grief, destroying everything in a large radius around him. Then he went over to check on Kara, turning her over--

--and was greeted by the sight of the Padawan, hiding in a small foxhole with a camouflaged roof, a hole just large enough to stick a shotgun out, which the blind boy was, of course, doing.

They stared at one another. Despite the flames, it was eerily quiet.

"Nice moves, kid." The Mandalorian admitted. "You'll go far in this profession."

"Don't try it." the Boy said in calm, yet cold manner.

The Mandalorian whipped his cannon equipped arm to the Foxhole--

Twelve guage buckshot ripped through armorweave and the Mandalorian was flung backward, writhing on the ground, twisting, wheezing, coughing as the boy got out of the Foxhole, blind, scarred eyes gazing in his direction. He wore tattered, sleeveless rust colored training robes with multiple burn splotches across the fabric, a half rotted ammo belt slung across it. His leg was in a makeshift brace. He limped towards the Mandalorian, keeping the shotgun trained on him, watching for any sign of some last second final attack. He would not fire unless he had to, because he was on his last shotgun shell.

"Oh..." the Mandalorian wheezed. "Got me good. Strange...for some reason...I pity you..."

The boy fixed his blind eyes on The Mandalorian, saying nothing.

"Survival... isn't all it's cracked up to be." The Mandalorian choked out through his own blood. "You may find...there are worse things than death. I go to be with my Kara. My troubles are over. Yours...yours are just beginning..."

The Boy watched as the man wheezed painfully, and waited until The Mandalorian expired from his blood-flooded lungs before moving in and stripping the corpse...


Nathan blinked out of the memory. He didn't like that memory.

His eyes idly slid over to Lily Decoria as she chastised Vanagor. This was why he didn't stand on chairs and start talking about his past.

Besides, what wisdom could be derived from a story where he ambushed and killed two lovers who just happened to be hunting him for a quick paycheck? That's not the type of story you tell a Padawan and expect a good result.

He wasn't sure he bought that whole era of peace bit though. Victory flags meant nothing to him. There was a whole other empire of Sith. He had fought them at an ambush arranged by the Trade League. Too many Jedi were counting their kinrath eggs before they were hatched.

Nathan remained silent at the exchange, only deciding to observe. He wasn't here to challenge anyone's notions of who had suffered more, or what era was the worst era to live in. He knew what his own opinion would be on the matter...

Seku Bondara

Zel Sharratt

Xalax