Like Stars in the Sky [The Jedi Order][Levantine Sanctum][PM for Invite]

[Jannik Morlandt]

[Parallel to the One Sith Invasion of Manaan...]​

​

LOCATION​

Jedi Temple​

Ossus​

​

The temple was much quieter than he had become accustomed to in recent months, due to a number of the people he had come to know and some he had known in the past when he was but a fresh and frightened padawan being far and away at a celebration of the completed restoration of Ahto City on Manaan - which was a fine thing, a good thing, and he would have loved to see such a joyous thing... but there were other things he had seen, so many things over the years, all scrawled out in the journals he kept, and he had reviewed them often. The frequency of that review had only increased in recent months, a revisiting of each memory, of each time. Of what could come to pass, of what might only be a far-off place down a fork in the road never taken. Each entry could be anything, and the Circle of Seers had dwindled to the point that he might as well have been the only one. At least he could never say that boredom had a grip on him. Indeed...

...it could be said that the life of a Jedi was never boring, and the life of a seer, less so; in his mind, this was the case. He had been prone to visions and prophecy with a frequency that might be considered alarming from the start and he had gained better control since, in the intervening years. Yet the crushing dark that threatened to snuff out this way of life was ever-present at the fringes of his psyche, due in no small part to the impromptu time he had spent with one of its foremost mistresses - the Sith Oracle, Darth Isolda - and by recent discovery, the closest tie of blood one could possibly have to another person. She was his sister, his twin sister, and his dreams had been getting stranger since that revelation, traversing at times into the land of nightmares. As his visions so frequently did... and perhaps they were just that.

That being said, the details often either made little sense, or set a pit in his stomach while still making no sense at the same time, but they seemed to have a certain pattern, a particular strange feel that set them apart. Still, as he sat with doors wide open in the disused council chambers, not in one of the gathered semi-circle of seats on the dias but on the steps that divided them down the middle, he mused over an apple of which he had taken a few bites, while his mind turned over and over again at the most recent of materials the Force had seen fit to present to his mind, summed to but a few words:

[SIZE=24pt]Water, crimson and endless, choked with faces.[/SIZE]

Red, not unlike the apple in his hand, and it could mean anything. He took another bite, chewed, swallowed, and settled into the Force with a calm exhalation to open himself to the feel and presences of the vast academy of the Jedi, as the sounds of the day-to-day still continued in other sectors of the Temple compound: training in the Force, combat and other subjects; discourse on the matters of philosophy, tactics, and more besides; meals taken, younglings cared for, all manner of people coming and going, and the premises maintained with relative care.

There was no knowing what might happen from one moment to the next.

 

[Livia Maddox]

Livia Maddox chased a stack of letters to the Temple on Ossus, knowing full well they'd already been delivered.

The Jedi Temple on Ossus brought a confusing sort of peace to the Sikke Vahan's Captain. Livia was unaware of any abilities within herself, instead plying her intuition in the eternally busy work of ship command and life in the free space of the Levantine Sanctum. Today as she walked wearing not uniform but loose grey trousers and a royal blue long sleeved silk blouse, she pulled her shoulder bag better up her thin shoulder and kept her silver metal cane propped under her right wrist. The trousers' loose leg hid the ghastly condition of her left leg, but the reminder was written on the woman's face.

Normally knit in a cocoon of authority (however minor her authority was), today was one in which the svelte young woman could breathe and relax. Yet, there was no relaxing in many of the Temples corners. This was a place of life and contemplation, a divine embrace of the Jedi way and many were missing from the mix: Off to fight a war. Livia felt the familiar tug of military heartstrings and banished them.

This was not her crew's fight. As it was, Livia walked through the Temple garden and plucked a flower for the cloyingly pleasant aroma therein. She twirled the sapphire and heliotropic flower between her left fingers and smiled. Somewhere her friend [member="Ilias Nytrau"] was nearby.

Livia didn't know how she could tell, but she felt it.

 

[???]

O S S US T E M P L E
[member="Livia Maddox"] [member="Jannik Morlandt"]


Moisture was in the air. Thick and heavy, bringing with it a low fog mist. Within the outskirts of the Ossus Jedi temple, a tiny hooded figure would appear. Flanked by two Jedi that would walk along side him, one would wonder if it was a youngling that had been caught running amuck.

The grass would crunch under brown sturdy boots. The offwhite spacer clothing coming to clarity as they would near closer to the temple steps. There would be a slight limp to the shrouded escorted form, as if there was a need to adjust to a walk for balance. It was barely there, but for those with keen of sight, would be noticeable.

Curious stares would fall at the trio, but any questions would be waved on hold for the moment. Up the steps they would go, slowly ascending towards the academy.

 

[Jsc]

Council Chambers, Ossus
[member="Jannik Morlandt"]

Knight Jhovna entered the chambers with a stretched canvas under her arm. Only half a painting full. The shining regal womas was aloft to do some painting and the chambers would do wonderfully for her mood. She was taken aback with the raise of a single brow immediately when she discovered the chamber was already in use.

"Ah. Excuse me Knight Morlandt. I didn't realize you where here. Might I impose upon the room for a moment? I have a commission that needs finishing. Hehe."

She gave a soft bow and her golden Tetan robes skirted the stones with a feathers ease. It did appear she was in a strikingly good mood, given the circumstances.

 

[Arage Bao]

Ossus​

Training Fields​

Projectile Guidance, the art of guiding a bullet to your target through the Force, using your own mind to make a path for your projective. It seemed a fairy tale, but then you watch around and see people fly, make stars go supernova and do other ridiculous stuff. Why would this be so far out of scope? Question on Khal’s mind for a long time.

Even now, spending months in the presence of the Jedi it was hard for his mind to wrap itself around the sheer possibilities the Force provided. So today he stood on the training fields of the Jedi Temple on Ossus, he wasn’t aware of what was transpiring on Manaan and even if he had known… how much use would he have been there?

Probably slim to none.

So he was training, to try and change that. It was target practice, to a degree. Khaleel, a Tenloss Ambassador, a target and here came the twist, an obstruction between the thief and the target. Seemed pretty straight-forward, the dummy represented a real person, the target represented a threat and he needed to get a bullet into the target without harming the dummy.

Easier said than done.

Twenty-five meters, had to have some distance, otherwise the bullet would move too swiftly and etch itself into the innocent person before Khaleel managed to do anything.

Aiming at the dummy the Padawan coughed and took another shot at it. He pulled the trigger, bullet flew off and started its travel, it was almost tangible how the projective passed the open space, hit the air particles between it and its target, his mind flicked at the bullet. Trying to bend it around the target, for a moment he thought he had it, but then the bullet embedded itself into the dummy with a hard thunk.

Khaleel could only sigh, let’s try this again.

 

[Seamus Valik]

[member="Jannik Morlandt"] [member="Livia Maddox"] @??? [member="Sam Jhovna"] [member="Khaleel Malvern"]

Seamus tripped on an up turned stone as he walked out of the jungle un escorted...with only a training saber. His blue eyes took in the temple as he caught himself and bruahed leaves and dust off his sleeves.

"Ah." He said pushing his black framed glasses up on his nose, "made it back."

He began walking casually toward the temple steps stopping once to pick a weed and examine it calmly before pocketing it and continuing on. It sure was a quiet day. Something must be going on somewhere else.

 

[Ilias Nytrau]

He was around here somewhere. While the Sanctum did what it did best he was often elsewhere, namely in the company of Jedi looking to learn, Jedi doing as Jedi would do and did do as he had done for the entirety of his long and seemingly endless existence. He felt it was his purpose in life in a way, to pass on his knowledge and influence as many as he could in the path with his teachings. He had been finishing with a class of bright, fresh young padawans on the matter of meditation, its uses, variations, and importance to the life and workings of a Jedi. He had been such a staunch adherent to this premise, and it had done so much for him.

"Daily, then. Daily," he pressed, as each and every young soul began to rise and file out of the training room, bowing and thanking him. Some had questions which he addressed, and soon enough the room was empty and the old master was left alone with his thoughts, left to his own devices. He had felt his friend here, Miss Maddox, in the midst of his dispensation of knowledge and was just about to consider seeking her out and was heading to exit the room when a young individual he had never seen before now came and filled the doorway, producing a small package from within a long coat. He gave this one a small, cordial smile. "Oh, well... good morning, then."

'For you, sir.' The package was held out, not insistently, but it was clearly meant for him - wrapped unassumingly in brown paper, tied with twine and nary another mark upon it. The ginger master took it into his large, pale, freckled hands, and instantly noted the particular feel of the object within. He paused for a moment with intent to delve into it right away, but then looked up at the deliverer and tipped his head, and gave quiet thanks. After they left, he retreated back into the room to mull the package over with a deeper sensory examination of what laid within - small, pebble-shaped, and with a touch of the things he had so little access to with his own power - without so much as opening it to actually see the contents.

"Hmm," he sounded, before proceeding to tuck the small, paper-bound box and the pebble within away in a concealed place deep within his robes, curious not so much as to what the pebble was for (he had a very good idea) but rather how it was that this object coming into his possession was not marked by death initiating its sending... at least, that usually appeared to be the case. All in all, a minor interruption in his intentions for the day, which he resumed by exiting the room and leaving the door hanging wide open - a sign of its availability, as he went off in search of his formerly Fringean friend.

​

[member="Seamus Valik"] | [member="Khaleel Malvern"] | [member="Sam Jhovna"] | [member="???"] | [member="Livia Maddox"] | [member="Jannik Morlandt"]​

 

[Jannik Morlandt]

As his senses stretched to locales outside of the temple complex, he touched upon something, two presences flanking a third that caused him to suck in a sharp breath as they approached the Academy and proceeded to ascend the steps... but he was pulled from this notice before he could fully process just what or who it might be, emotion that could have been stirred instead being smothered by the sudden presence of another entering the chamber. It was an arrival that escaped his notice in coming, for how focused he was on what was soon to be within these walls. It was incredibly distracting. He blinked, surfacing, and turned his wearied gaze to the other presence in the room.

"Knight Jhovna," he said with mild exclamation, a weak smile surfacing, "Please, do. Ah was just sitting here, doing nothing in particular. Ye go ri' ahead."

And he went back to his wonderings, back to what he had felt out there, brow furrowing. After another moment, he looked to the woman with a smidge of surprise, half-rising from where he sat on the steps.

"Oh, d'ye need me tae step out for a moment? Ah dinnae want tae be in y'way."

​

[member="Ilias Nytrau"] | [member="Seamus Valik"] | [member="Khaleel Malvern"] | [member="Sam Jhovna"] | [member="???"] | [member="Livia Maddox"]​

 

[Livia Maddox]

[member="Seamus Valik"] bumbled his way out of the bush and into the same garden by the temple that the Captain Maddox had found as a spot of respite. "Goodness!" The Naval Officer started and blinked wide blue eyes as she saw the man a few metres off. He looked. . . dishevelled. Livia scrunched her nose and staunched a giggle before it could burst her composure and resolve. None of that, now. None of that.

Why not? Her cane clutched in her right hand, flower in her left she watched the man pull a weed, inspect it, toss it in his pocket and walk onward. Livia watched him go and slowly shook her head from side to side. "Jedi, hmm? Hmm!" She couldn't precisely help having a tiny smirk on her face. Ossus was lovely, the Temple a swelling comfort to her heart and soul. But why?

The questing maiden moseyed toward the Temple and lo and behold there was Master [member="Ilias Nytrau"] walking out of it. The smirk grew to a tender and wide grin as Livia waved the flower and tap, tap, tapped her way toward him with her cane nudging the firm, vegetative ground. The tensions of her career were worthwhile for moments as this - the kindness of friends and relief of warfare. Little did she have more than a glancing idea of precisely how war-like Manaan had gotten. Her commlink was silenced in her bag. "Ilias!" Livia walked her way over and tucked the rose behind her ear to better open her arms and give the man a hug.

"How were your Padawans, eh? Did you rouse them to the fine arts of meditation as the fine Gentleman Master you are?" I missed you, she seemed to say. Would the lady thrive in a place like this? Probably with the right Master. Yet there was a goodly portion of Livia Maddox who wasn't finished chasing down her demons on a field of naval war.

 

[Jericho]

Some things couldn't be fixed. Changed. Mended. He thought as he touched the thick skin of his akk dog, pondering on the thoughts of the past. He was recently welcomed back to old home of the jedi order by his friend Kiskla even though he left it to go with his old master. That had changed, what hasn't and never will, was the death of his master or those he was force to cut down in the battles he has been in. And yet there was no regret, merely reflection as it has made him the man he has become.

The wind was chilling but the sun shone brightly. With the sun at its peak, people should be bustling around. However the warrior named Jericho didn't see any people in or near the jedi temple. He didn't hear any signs of life but felt force signatures nearby. Everything seemed sparse, even the jedi temple seemed like it was in bad repair, at least to his standards. He looked at it with slight distaste.

He petted his akk dog lightly ensuring that it stayed close and it merely barked in response. After doing so, he carefully moved and looked around. Things shouldn't be this quiet rather, the quiet just made him more cautious than he was. He touched his weapons out of habit to make sure it was still there. His two vibro-chained scythes, three sabers, he patted his chest the sounds of his heavy armor signaled ready, and then he tapped his battle breathing mask lightly. One always had to make sure and be ready.

Once he was, signaled his dog to follow with the sounds of his mouth as they stepped into the temple.


[member="Ilias Nytrau"] | [member="Seamus Valik"] | [member="Khaleel Malvern"] | [member="Sam Jhovna"] | @??? | [member="Livia Maddox"] | [member="Jannik Morlandt"]

 

[Callista Gseran]

[member="Jannik Morlandt"] | [member="Jericho"] | [member="Ilias Nytrau"] | [member="Masamune Tametomo"]

Ossus. Not a place she could ever recall visiting in her lifetime. At least in the galaxy she came from. A slight frown crossed Callista's face as she settled slowly onto a bench in the gardens surrounding the academy. It was, from what she know of Ossus - her - Ossus quite similar. And yet, there was something that felt very different about both here and everywhere she had visited in the short time since entering this galaxy. It wasn't a bad different, per se. But everything felt a bit.. off.

And rather... perplexing and even a bit frightening if she was being honest with herself. Sighing, she settled again and took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself. There were so many young Jedi here, that it left a bit of an excited flutter in her stomach. In her world, the Jedi had been slowly vanishing due to the wounds in the Force. Many had been rescued from the prison on Bastion... but many others had not. It made her chest ache to think of it. There was so much that she would never see again. Chewing on her lower lip, she drew her feet up onto the bench and rested her chin on them.

 

[Talon Vosra]

Ossus...seemed like only yesterday he had walked the dense trails, sat in silence listening to the buzz of the jungle, and watched younglings practice in the courtyards. He had loved his small quarters and the smooth stone floors. Six padawans he had trained inside those walls. Three of them masters now in their own right the rest all knights or gone on to their own lives. He had few regrets in this place, blessed few, but the one he had was heart tearing. It was his own fault really, he had failed to live up to the standards he had hoped to emulate. He let attachment form, let it grow, and before long it was too deep to be uprooted with out leaving torn soil.

He climbed down from his stealth-X and walked calmly around the flight deck. Pale fingers brushed the stone walls fondly as he made his way inside. The old guard that had once helped Talon aquire the materials for faalo's cadences stopped him with a firm hug and a nod before going back to his post. It was home, as much as Rhen Var wad home. He made his way along the halls unnoticed by many young ones. He was here to visit and say hello before he moved on back to his other activities.

"[member="Jannik Morlandt"] about?" He said to a passing padawan.

"Temple steps I believe sir."

"Thanks kiddo." Talon said before walking on. He'd just say hi and go.

 

[Jsc]

[member="Jannik Morlandt"] was fine right where he was. She only needed the room for a moment.

"Oh no. I'm just finishing up a painting. Just need the room for a quick reference. You're fine. Hehe."

She stepped over the threshhold and began to setup. The canvas would hang from a tall candlestick and her box of supplies was arched nearby. This wouldn't take long at all. She began with gusto. Careful to apply an apron just incase she made a mess. The paints were prism-based and would be an easy clean up anyway.

Sam wasn't much of one for conversation so she continued her meditations in silence. Perhaps someone else was looking for Jannik already?

 

[???]

O S S US T E M P L E
[member="Sam Jhovna"] [member="Talon Vosra"] [member="Callista Gseran"] @Jericho @Livia Maddox [member="Jannik Morlandt"] [member="Ilias Nytrau"]

The further up the steps he went, the more populated the Temple would appear. Perhaps in this it had never truly changed. The hood of the figure would draw up, revealing just the slightest of pale streaks of flesh. A delicate chin.

More people would dart back and forth, asking questions and hurrying to class or training. Perhaps a mission?

It was as strange as it was familiar. Up the steps he went, the cowl turning to the left just as one [member="Talon Vosra"] would round the corner and go up the steps himself.

 

[Talon Vosra]

@???

Talon looked up at the figure and hesitated a moment. His green eyes once described as the color of felucian bog moss narrowed. Why did he feel he knew that person. He began up the steps slowly as his mind began to cycle through memories he was certain he had buried. His legs felt like stone as his mind searched the force for an answer.

He barely moved to steps when he reached out with the force to try and sense the person's mind. Who was this being he felt he shpuld know?

 

[???]

There came a slight pause, that cowl panning back towards the direction of [member="Talon Vosra"]. A pregnant pause fell. Full. Expectant. The two Jedi flanking the smaller figure would encourage him to keep moving, but he would not be swayed.

A slight tug, then the brush of a gloved hand would slide the hand off of his shoulder. There came the first step. Then another.

Until finally naught but three meters stood between them.

 

[Quietus]

Let's skip the formalities of just what Quietus thought of Ossus or what her history was with this wretched Jedi Temple. None of that mattered. What mattered was the fact that it had become her latest target destination, within which was her latest target acquisition. Important things were in motion and there would be no one to stop the events that would unfold today, or tomorrow, or the next day's.

A screech ripped through the peaceful calm of the Temple grounds as a shadow streaked across the pathway leading to the entrance steps. Without preamble and with no fair warning, from the skies dropped a massive flame-red beast atop which sat the Beastia of Onderon. Clad in the garb of her warrior people: armor made of maalraas bone, terentatek hide, and all manner of spikes, claws, and ghoulish adornment, she dismounted the creature without a word to what people may have narrowly avoided the unpleasant arrival. A short, pointed glance to the people cleared a path and she moved to enter the temple.

Her coming was no grand thing to celebrate, but perhaps more of something to be concerned over. Quietus had never and would never make any attempt to mask her presence - one not wholly submerged in the darkside, but something far more unforgiving than the Light. The Beastia prowled in, purposeful strides unhindered by the approach of guards who were quickly dissuaded with a simple motion of her hand. Much the same followed as she strode inwards, following the trail of a single being to whom she had every intention of hunting down.

Then, finally, there she was. Though not mighty in stature, it was her presence and aura that filled the entry of the Council chambers where [member="Jannik Morlandt"] and another woman currently conversed. Unyielding citrine eyes landed upon Jannik after which came a very powerful, very pointed intrusion to his mind. There was no time to be polite - not today.

You, came the Beastia's telepathic voice, we need to talk.

 

[Jannik Morlandt]

[member="Quietus"] | [member="Sam Jhovna"]

He'd given Knight Jhovna a short, accepting nod and a faint smile, returning to his thoughts and musings but not to the outstretching of his senses as he had been doing only so many minutes before - at least not immediately. When was the last time he simply watched another in their motions, their day-to-day with nuances and expression in their movements. This was something Kira did, something he'd simply started doing in her company, watching people though the particulars of those observances were always different between him and her; she was Lorrdian, after all.

At the same time there was a certain finesse to not being caught staring or at least not looking like you were staring - this was harder nowadays with the things that weighed on his mind, as he was more liable to be simply mesmerised by the simple repetition of motion with his mind otherwise so distracted, so occupied with the glimpses and broad-field views of what the Force entrusted him with knowing. The manner in which he thought of the visions he was given was crucial to the sane handling of them.

It was a screech rather than his own will that broke his gaze from the knight working away at the painting, pulling his eyes forcibly and with a near-unwillingness to the council chamber entrance from where he sat on the bisecting steps, neatly lined up with that portal into the rest of the temple compound. It was not more than a scant moment that his eyes had been staring right through the wide open doorway that a figure came into view whose presence had made no apologies for its blunt arrival in advance of her and filled the room to bursting to consume nearly the entirety of his attention.

You, we need to talk.

If there was anything that was unsubtle, it was the manner with which those words entered his mind, very stringent in their invasion of his consciousness, a far more unforgiving penetration than what toyings he had experienced at the hand and mind of the one it appeared was his kin solely by blood - and it was solely that because he insisted. Eyes shifted sidelong over to the other knight and he wordlessly excused himself from the room, gaze setting back upon the new, unknown entity when he rose from the steps and descended them. Somehow, he felt that going along with her request would be far less problematic than anything he had faced to date and maybe it was this simple intuition that formed his response... or perhaps the presence, the invasion of his mind had pulled on his psyche in some unexpected and unpredictable way. Whatever it was, he didn't seem to hesitate.

Not here.

His still-thinned form left the last step, feet carrying him to the exit and her.

 

[Quietus]

Jaw set, the Beastia regarded the Seer with eyes unwavering, unblinking. She'd not issued a request nor a plea for his presence - it had been a demand, and one she expected to be followed lest the Seer discover what a relentless hunter she was. As he moved, she followed soundlessly and without further response, allowing him to pass her through the doorway in order to lead on to what he deemed a more appropriate area. Present company mattered not to the woman - their conversation was a private one and she would not entertain any form of disruption until she had the answers she needed. For now, though keen to accomplish what she came here for, the Beastia was not without a sense of propriety. He'd be given time to select a new location, though just how much time she'd allow for this was only so long as her own patience held.

[member="Jannik Morlandt"]

 

[Talon Vosra]

[member="???"]

His breath stopped. The mechanical motion that consisted of the rise and fall of his taut chest halted by the smell of citrus. It's odd how something as simple as a smell can excite centers in the brain that bring back feelings and emotions thought to be repressed or lost. The sound of someone or something shrieked.

He couldn't look away his feet carrying him forward another step. The figure stood within reach. He could hardly keep his hand from reaching out.

"Wh.." he paused, "Do I know you?"