Jedi Convention - 851ABY (open to all Jedi)

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

CARGO HOLD THREE
[ obligatory theme music ]

"Hi, Mister Master Zark!"

Again, outdoor voices and metal bulkheads.

The boy went through emotions faster than a smuggler on the Kessel run. From practically bouncing off the walls, to utterly crestfallen when Mister Master Zark stated that he wasn't a blademaster.

But then all it took was mention of teaching fundamentals and the Sephi would re-energized. "Okay!" the youngling declared brightly.

If this continued, Zark might need hearing protection.

Then, something really weird happened. Mister Master Zark's Force presence was really super bright to begin with, though Eriond couldn't tell just why that was. But then that light moved. Like, not that Mister Master Mark was moving, he was still standing there. But some part of the Force had shifted. Separated, the boy could distinguish the bright presence to be a kyber crystal of some variety -- enough to recognize the lightsaber.

...but, he'd pulled the lightsaber from out of himself?

"Whoa," the boy uttered in awe. "How'd you do that?"

[member="Zark"]​

 

[Dissero]

[member="Kael Rose"]

"Consider it a boon barter," Mr. Chemist replied. Kael was right; he had no use for guns, but a hired gun could hold a value far greater than that of the gun itself given the right circumstances. The beskar hardly mattered given his access to one of the few live beskar mines left on Mandalore. Alor Ioren never failed to produce good results.

"Seemed a decent piece. I'd prefer to see it appreciated for what it can do rather than what it is." Arms took an easy fold at his front again, matching the levity of his expression, "Unless of course a man who knows his guns isn't also a man who uses them."

Tact, it was a thing when conversing among Jedi.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

Observation Deck

[member="Junko Ike"]

The marketing material offered a huge variety. A few unique items caught his eye.

“I've got uses for some of this. I'll take a couple of modular repulsor cradles for sure. This backup nav system, I could see that working well for some folks I know. Five of those oughta do it. And, let's see...I want to play with this backup shield system. I'll take ten of those. Wupiupi work for you? I don't use credits much.”

[member="Karren Trask"] took Jorus’ attention. “That's what we do, yeah,” he said. “We're darn good at it too, if I do say so myself. The way it usually works is you tell me what kind of ship you've got, and what your goal is. Then I give you three options at a time, and we walk through a fit point by point. Something like that suit your needs?”

 

[Junko Ike]

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

She was looking at him as he gave the list and had a small grin come to her face. Tight lipped at first but then her smile was there nice and warm reaching her eyes. A glash of teeth before her face came back to being neutral and head bowed down. "Wonderful, enjoy them and if you shoudl need more." She had it all there and was bringing up the small droid that could work to order what was needed and give Jorus a chance to say where it should be shipped. With the mynock transports that had built they could carry a great deal in terms of equipment and cargo in the vessels. "I do hope you get some good use out of the pieces and there are more things coming every day."

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Ship's Bow

Listening to the man's words, Ryan's eyes lost some of their edge. He heard penitence therein. True sorrow. A ragged wound that might never fully heal. And a mountain of guilt. Korr wondered how many had died during the Dominion's crusade. The burdens of all those souls was not a weight Korr would wish upon anyone. Except perhaps Kaine Zambrano, to show him the suffering he'd caused.

The scars on Cedric's face ran only skin deep, but Ryan sensed those within cut far more gruesome wounds. Grayson was no Zambrano, reveling in the misery wrought upon others. He said he'd done it all for the greater good. Strangely enough, Ryan believed him.

Slowly, the Vahla nodded. "We all make mistakes, but those who lead affect more lives with theirs. I see you bear a heavy weight, but it has led you here. Every person in this room has also made mistakes in their life and they've ended up here, for good or ill, calling themselves Jedi - or something of the sort." He smiled wanly. "I would offer you counsel, but I've made more than my fair share of missteps."

Quinn. Could he truly think of her as a mistake? But she'd killed a man on Fresia. Korr remembered the way his blood soaked the beach. He'd let her go free. Young, foolish, and in love.

"Like you, I am a warrior. I spent so much of my life fighting the Sith I forgot how to be all the other things a Jedi is - a diplomat, a healer, a counselor."

Master and apprentice shared that in some regards. Marcello taught him how to survive and how to do what was right, not necessarily how to lead a life worth living.

"I'll only say this: don't let the guilt fuel your anger. Acknowledge it. Accept it. Learn from it. Then move on."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

After a moment of trepidation, the smile was returned.

"Thank you." The words were minimal, but the meaning they carried was far heavier. "Perhaps our children will get to be the diplomats and healers that we couldn't be," he offered.

A crushing weight that had started to suffocate him the moment he'd set foot upon this vessel lifted. In a way, Korr's acceptance was a symbol of the Jedi's greater forgiveness as a whole. It eased his aching heart.

There may still be time.

"I hope this congregation goes well," his gaze drifted toward one of the windows, and then to the nebulous void beyond. There were far too many warriors among the Jedi's ranks, and far too few individuals to lead those warriors. Any man could lose his way without guidance, even the greatest and most disciplined of masters.

More than anything else, the Jedi Knights needed leadership.

"I left people on my homeworld. The Sith took a boy that bore my likeness, crucified him, and paraded him through the capital city. I can't abide that," a heavy sigh escaped him, "We need the order united again. I have soldiers, ships, and the skills to utilize them, but it all means little if we have no command structure. No leaders."

The youth shifted his gaze back to the more experienced master. "Do you think they'll come to an accordance? Are there any that could fill the void that the old council left?"

[member="Ryan Korr"]

 

[Kael Rose]

[member="Dissero"]

Kael put up a small grin. "I wouldn't sell something if I wouldn't trust it myself when the time comes." Kael responded, and pulled up a piece of flimsi and a writing instrument. "This is my comm frequency and holomail. One Chaavla Revolver for one 'favor." Kael responded, and considered adding conditionals, but what use was a conditional favor? Hopefully Al wasn't the type to need terrible things done. Even if he was, he'd cross that bridge when he got it. He also didn't have a lot of room to talk, finding most of his work from the Hutts these days.

"So we've talked about bit about my work and products, do you mind showing me some of your stuff? What hits your crafting itch?" He directed the conversation to Al's work. He still wanted to check out some of the other booths, but [member="Jorus Merrill"] and [member="Junko Ike"] both seemed swamped.

 

[Dissero]

"Well alright then, Mr. Rose."

Flimsi stashed away in a convenient pocket, Al turned back to his own little setup. He didn't have a sign or a holo-projected display, but he did have a few little wooden table stands and a display case of various items.

"Oh I attempt to keep things traditional when I can, but there's certain types of creative that catch my eye. Didn't bring a whole lot with me; got some select pieces I figured the right sort of Jedi or Jedi-friend would find useful. The Marauder's Bag, for instance. Based on a few other designs made by a friend; strong, durable, modifiable strappings for various means of carry, more pockets than you can imagine, resistant to damage, wear, and Force influence."

He picked up a hand-crafted leather pack of dark brown and black and offered the straps to [member="Kael Rose"] for inspection. The instant the man took it from him the bag became so unbelievably heavy even a wookiee would have difficulty lifting it.

"For an extra fee and a blood sample I can add an aura of weightlessness that works only for the bag's owner," the droll smile within his beard spoke volumes of the number of times he'd done this to people previously, "go on and have a look. See what sort of things you can pull out of that bag."

All sorts of things were to be found within: small things, useful things, things that shouldn't even fit in there. And there were pockets. So many pockets. Pockets within pockets. Expandable sections that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Just when you thought you'd run out of space there was more.

Kael might even stumble upon a few Velokrons while he was in there.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Cargo Hold Three

"Whoa, how'd you do that?" the boy asked, eyes wide with wonder.

Zark grinned despite himself, not out of vanity but because the question would have been something he himself might have asked when he was...however old the child standing before him was exactly. Most simply took it at face value as another miracle of the Force, but young [member="Eriond"] was in possession of an inquisitive mind, and that was good. It was what the sages of his old praxeum had looked for in their discerning search for appropriate candidates. Self-control was perhaps another matter, as the Jedi Knight discreetly rubbed his temple to ease the ache of the adolescent's overenthusiastic shouts. But at that age, who wasn't? Greater discipline would come with time and maturity.

"A Jedi's blade is an extension of his own body, young squire," he carefully replied, figuring some of the more technical details of a straighter answer might be lost on his audience. Still, the boy had expressed a desire to learn, and this was one of the first lessons his own Master had taught him in preparation of his lightsaber training, "The Force bonds us, as it does all things, something you perhaps might understand better than most. Others see them as separate, the saber and the Jedi, they see only as a tool we use, a weapon we wield. Just as many see the Force as a tool. But the Jedi's truth is that both the sword and the Knight are the tool, one tool, wielded by the Force."

As the human answered the boy's question, he moved to the center of the nearest dueling ring the IG-100 droids had set up in the spacious cargo hold, and as he spoke the last word he flipped the activation switch on the saber's hilt, triggering an almost rumbling sound of emission. A burning molten orange blade cast a bright orange pallor off the entire chamber as if its source were some sort of large bonfire, whispers of crackling instability in the plasma field rippling off it like a flame's edge. Since they were not within the electromagnetic field of a heavily volcanic surface the confinement beam was capable of holding back the raw power of the alchemized power source from destabilizing into a sort of lavasaber, but within the outer edge of the blade was an inner core of roiling smoke.

"To protect the weak and seek justice for all," Zark finished, his solemn expression bathed in molten hues, "Our choices are our own, but towards this purpose we are guided always."

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

CARGO HOLD THREE
[ obligatory theme music ]

Mister Master Zark was doing that thing where adults said a whole bunch of stuff...

...and none of it really made much sense at all.

The young Sephi still had the saber staff in his hands. Holding it up, the child turned and seemed a little confused for a moment. There was an IG-100 droid somewhere around here. He just wasn't all that certain where that somewhere would be."Iggy, do you... do you have, like, a shoto?" the boy asked.

A moment later, the droid seemed to approach from the boy's right to take the long-handled lightsaber and replace it was a smaller one.

Using both hands to feel along the contours of the training shoto, the space elf took a second in which to roll the handle between his palms and become acquainted with it. He ignited the blade a moment later.

He was told that lightsaber blades burned with a certain color.

People seemed to talk a lot about colors. Favorite colors. Ugly colors. Tacky colors.

...the boy had absolutely no idea what a color was. Red, blue, green, yellow. He tried to imagine what a color must be like, but it just seemed entirely beyond anything he could dream.

Angling his blade up, the youngling adopted the basic pose that was known as Jedi Ready. His hands wrapped around the hilt, though he seemed uncertain quite where to put them. He moved his sword hand up. Then he slid it back down.

Finally, holding the blade parallel to the floor, the child asked, "Do you grip yours more... like, more up here?" To illustrate, he moved his sword hand closer toward the emitter, gripping the lightsaber high on the hilt. "Or... or more, like... more like here?" He asked, sliding his hands toward the pommel cap to grip the hilt in the center and base.

[member="Zark"]​

 

[RC 212]

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

Observation Deck

She nodded, letting her grin get a little bigger.

"When can we start? I fly a StealthX, and I'm looking for some modifications. Mostly speed, and swapping two of my cannons for kinetics."

 

[Kael Rose]

[member="Dissero"]

Kael took a hand on the leather bag Al handed over, and found it to be far weightier than it's size or Mr. Chemist's casualty would imply. "Kriff." He cursed, and managed to stop the bag from simply plopping to the table, instead making a less than graceful but somewhat controlled descent. Al then explained the weightless property for the small price of 'a drop of blood'. He had a feeling such techniques weren't taught at your regular academy. Then again, neither was the upkeep or customization of a blaster. Al prodded him to see what he could all he could find in the bag, as if it were hiding something. Kael gave him a curious look, but complied.

What came out first was a little wooden figurine, carved in the shape of some exotic animal Kael didn't recognize. Kael put it down and found another pocket, pulling out a five kilogram weight, then a first aid kit, then some sort of holocron, triangular in shape. Kael put each down, a bit curious on the holocron, but attempted to put the weight and the first aid kit back. To his surprise however, he couldn't find an empty pocket. He knew he had emptied four of them now, but everytime he tried opened one up it seemed to have something else in it.

"This is mighty strange bag you've got here." Kael replied with a bit of a puzzled expression. Part of him wondered how it worked, part of him wondered how much ammunition he could store in there, but the prevailing curiosity was the triangular holocron he'd extracted. "Whose holocron is it?" Kael asked. Back when he was a Jedi holocrons were unique, a deeply personal thing made once by a Jedi master with the know-how. He'd heard copies could be made now, but he was still skeptical. It seemed odd to him that such knowledge would simply be for sale or barter, but then again he had no idea just how that bag worked. Who knew what Al was capable of?

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

SHIP'S BOW

"The old council?" Korr quirked a brow.

The old council's composition used to be a bookworm who only trotted out of the archives every so often to lecture everyone on the nature of the dark side - not that she'd ever had to combat it face-to-face; a smattering of masters who came and went; and a grandmaster almost always too young for the position, which stood for the proposition that beggars could not be choosers. When most of the senior Jedi consistently went lone wolf, or shunned the position, it left the Order with few choices. Some people forgot that fact and enjoyed reminding everyone of the five minutes they'd served as grandmaster.

And I can feel the presence of one of those people at this gathering.

Still, despite all that, the council had provided a clear chain of authority capable of reprimanding misbehavior when they saw it. Something the New Order lacked, in Korr's opinion. Those who reveled in the morally gray area between dark and light no doubt thought otherwise.

"Yes, they could." Though they might not live up to the Darron Wraiths, the Ben Watts, Kiskla Graysons, or Marcello Matteos of the fallen Republic. "Whether they will is another question entirely. All we can do in the meantime is trust in the Force."

He paused, then, "Visit the temple on Coruscant. The New Order is not so very different than the old. There may be a place for you and yours there." If the specter of his father's vengeance was truly gone. Alen Na'varro had been redeemed and his list of crimes stretched long. Why not the son of former comrade?

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Cargo Hold Three

This is why I never wanted to take on a Padawan.

Struggling to maintain his calm as [member="Eriond"] seemed to drift off midway through his lecture, Zark tried not to hold it against the boy. The older man had clearly missed his target demographic with the abstract explanation. Vowing to skip the philosophy lessons on this one from now on, the Jedi Knight decided it might be better to simply focus on practical application. The rest would hopefully come later, but it was clear to him know that he may have better results through showing rather than simply telling.

The boy had picked a smaller blade from those available, a training shoto, which was something at least. Whether Eriond had made his choice due to some innate wit, or whether the youngling's choice had been governed by far less practical concerns, the shorter hilt and blade was well suited to his build, and the style of saber was uniquely suited to the fighting style that Zark was most familiar with. Dialing down the power settings on his own saber so that a stray slash would not cause any serious damage, he moved over to stand beside the young man as he adopted a basic ready stance, demonstrating at least some prior experience.

"Do you grip yours more... like, more up here? Or... or more, like... more like here?"

"It depends on the the technique," he replied, "But for our purposes today it would be best to grip it higher towards the blade. Your blows will not be as powerful, but a high grip gives you far greater control, which is the way my Master taught me. With more training, you may find you prefer differently."

Mirroring Eriond's ready stance, Zark then shifted fluidly so that the hilt of his saber was held one handed out to the side. His off hand was folded across his chest, palm out and fingers curled.

"This form is called Niman, or the Way of the Rancor," he explained, "Of all the forms, it is the most balanced. Understand the principles of Niman, and the other forms may come more naturally to you."

Glancing over to see if the boy had correctly imitated his posture, or was indeed even paying attention at all, the Knight continued, "This is the opening stance. The saber should be held out from the body, angled upwards and back like so. Your feet should be evenly spaced. It may seem a little different than what you're used to, but that's because its the best way to take advantage of the form's secret weapon."

OOC: Apologies for the delay.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Karren Trask"]

"A StealthX? Oof.” Jorus felt a broad grin take hold. “Well, you're in luck - my sister was one of the design consultants, and I've had the chance to poke around the ship and her files. That said, a StealthX is a real compact boat. Not a ton of room for improvement without sacrifices.”

He fiddled with the holoprojector until it showed a wireframe of a standard X-wing: all the same proportions, none of the classified.

“Speed first. So to boost speed, you gotta increase engine quality or engine volume, or decrease mass. Quality’s tricky because the StealthX engines are top of the line, and sacrificing the TibannaX functionality won't cut the mustard. Decreasing mass is iffy too: a StealthX has a fiberplast hull, if I remember right, and it's not like you can ditch your shadow bomb bay. That leaves volume, and I think I've got an answer.”

He zeroed in on a wingtip laser - a fat cylinder leading into a slim pylon. “Say I cut this off and replace it with a mass driver like you're thinking. I've got a model in mind that would take up about as much space as, oh, the pylon and half the mounted unit - the chubby cylinder contiguous with the wingtip. Yeah?” He poked the futzing holoprojection right in the middle of the wingtip. “That leaves half a cylinder - maybe as long as your forearm - of empty space where the back end of the laser cannon used to be. We can fit booster engines in there.

“Now, two downsides. If you're only swapping two cannons for particle weapons, you'll only be able to use the boosters when your wings are folded. Use'em when you're in attack position, and you'll go out of control. Non-symmetrical thrust, yeah? There'll still be some drift but we can compensate.

“Problem number two is that it makes the wings more volatile to have fuel down there. A glancing hit won't just take off the cannon, it'll rip off the whole wing, maybe both wings on that side.

“If you can live with that, then yeah, my techs can boost your speed maybe twenty percent. You down?”

 

[RC 212]

Observation Deck

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

Karren listened with Rapt attention to Jorus as he described his idea. The afterburners on the wings were a nice touch, and then another idea struck her. She was not comfortable having only half a system of afterburners in battle. Too often would she forget them, and probably spin her craft out of control.

"How about we nix blaster Cannons all together. Could we do the mass drivers, with boosters on all four wingtips?"

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"I won't lie and say I haven't thought about it." Memories of old and forgotten allegiances flashed. Cedric did well to ignore them. "I don't know the Galactic Alliance well. I've worried that a lack of a proper senate could destroy any social progress it could make after a generation or so. My parents had the same worries with it - it's why they left."

He'd only heard stories of the old republic, but most of them were pleasant. It was the last true bastion of peace in the galaxy; a storm of chaos unseen in many centuries had overtaken the galaxy on the day it had fallen. Many claimed to be its successor, but few could match the freedoms its citizens had enjoyed. The Dominion had been one of many states that had sought to take up the title of a successor state. Unfortunately a large batch of bad luck, despotism, and disloyalty had brought it to a swift end: much like its predecessor.

"That being said, I think it has the best chance of becoming what the Republic once was," the youth frowned. "If an agreement could be made with Commenor and the other nearby states, perhaps the Republic could truly be reborn. Force knows the Silver Jedi will need us united in the days to come."

Perhaps this terrible war brought unto them will at least serve as a wake up call about choosing to stand alone against the tide of barbarism.

A pause, "Sorry, I ramble," he cracked an apologetic smile, "I think I will go to see it. Maybe I'll find what I'm looking for there. What are you going to do from here?""

[member="Ryan Korr"]

 

[Senari Gravis]

"Nametags. What a load of Sithspit." Grumbling to himself the entire time, Senari took the offered nametag from the service droid, scrawling out whatever he needed to with a pencil, without even bothering to ensure it was legible. Ultimately, that meant that there was only field filled out, which Senari promptly tore the rest of the nametag from before sticking it on his chest.

Name: Senari Gravis

With a nod to the droid, he promptly left the space he was in, making his way towards the cargo hold, the only area of the starliner that was likely to have anything going on he'd be interested in. Most of his time lately had been spent in training, though he was at a loss for peope to actually spar with. Not many of the Jedi at the enclave seemed willing to work with him, given his usual state of mind. Karking shinies. As if he'd spar with a full powered lightsaber.

He was still grumbling and muttering darkly to himself as he walked - actions which garnered him no shortage of odd looks from other Jedi, droids, and the workers for the starliner as they passed him by. Most of the more overt looks were met with a scowl, which was generally enough to send at least the younger padawans scurrying off in a hurry. With this wonderful strategy of "look crazy and mean," Senari managed to make his way to cargo hold 3 entirely unmolested by any needy students or preacy masters.

Only to find the cargo hold itself rather empty, and himself intruding on what appeared to be a private lesson. A cursory glance of the pair in there was enough for Senari to recognize the need to look at them more intently, taking in the numerous oddities about them. The first was the older man's lightsaber, the blade looking like a cross between a lightsaber and an inside-out campfire, smoky on the inside and indistinctly burning on the out. The second was the curved ears of the much younger of the two; examining his face further beyond the ears clued Senari into the fact that his eyes weren't focusing on the older man. Not at all. No focus, whatsoever.

But from the conversation going on, it was obvious that the kid was managing to somehow key into what was happening around him. Even though he seemed to be a very small child, with profoundly impaired vision. Messing around with lightsabers. But apparently I'm too dangerous to spar with back at the enclave. He leaned back against the wall, watching the pair as they worked. "If you want him to spar with anybody later who won't already know all the ins-and-outs of what you're teaching him, I'll be right here," he told the older one, patting the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

[member="Zark"] [member="Eriond"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

OBSERVATION DECK - SWAP MEET
[member="Karren Trask"]

"If you want to, yeah, that's totally doable. Laser cannons do more damage than mass drivers, all else being equal, and ammo lasts way longer, and mass driver recoil is going to futz with your flying, but you can make it work. Big picture, you'd be trading a bit of firepower and a hint of structural integrity for more speed and maneuverability, and you'd be able to use the boosters with your S-foils in attack mode, too. Yeah, this is all totally doable."

Jorus scribbled some notes on a rusty datapad. "You bring in your StealthX, and my folks in the Wretched Hive will mod the feth out of it. The Hive's too big to fit in this cruiser; it's flying parallel about five klicks away. It's got cargo bays that'll fit your snubfighter for sure. Talk to Shenna'vala or Dingo Darr, and they'll see you straight. Glad we could help-" He squinted at her nametag. "-Miz Trask."

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

CARGO HOLD THREE
[ obligatory theme music ]

Ni-ma-say what again?

And what did Rancors have to do with lightsabers? Even though the sudden mental image of a Jedi Rancor wielding a lightsaber was admittedly very cool.

Safe to say, this probably wasn't going to be another lesson in Shii-cho blast deflection techniques. It was apparently about knee mans getting in the way of Rancors.

Did that make sense to anybody?

No? Okay. Just checking that we were all on the same page.

The young Sephi adjusted his grip on the shoto in his hands, listening as Mister Master Zark remarked "This is the opening stance." Through the Force, the small space elf tried to get some notion of how Mister Zark was positioned. But the image or impression was dark, like a reflection cast in a mirror darkly.

"Blade angled upwards and back."

Straightening his forearm, the boy raised his lightsaber slightly as he aimed the point somewhere over his head. "Like this?"

"Feet spaced evenly apart."

Without lifting his left foot, the boy slid his stance a little wider.

A new presence entered the room. "Hi, Mister!" the boy greeted the stranger in a friendly tone, even as he maintained the ready posture.

[member="Senari Gravis"] | [member="Zark"]​