Faction Live Long and Prosper(ity) // Open to All Jedi

[Allyson Locke]

//: Enroute to SIA Tech Lab //:
//: Outcast //:
//: Seniya Nehir //: Openish //:

Removing the Lonestar Agency contract from the SIA dossiers was going to get her into a lot of trouble with the suits on the upper floors. At this point, Allyson didn't care. For some reason, she felt as if she needed to make a statement with the contracted detective. The woman was nothing more than a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. Allyson knew her frustrations belonged being directed to the head of the SIA - not to someone who was just looking to make a dime. ​

She'd have a lot of explaining to do, but she was sure she could reinstate the contract if necessary. The money that the SIA and the Alliance could offer was too hard to pass up. Allyson waited, mostly to see the reaction of the detective. At first, the Corellian felt terrible, but then Seniya had to continue with the smart tone. Which in the end, Allyson no longer felt bad. Rolling her eyes, she began to walk down the hallway toward the tech lab; she was done with the detective. ​

Yet, it seemed the detective and the universe weren't done with the poor frustrated Corellian. They were now destined towards the same location, which meant everything that she just did - she had to suffer it the whole way. Allyson pinched the bridge of her nose and headed towards the tech labs. Silence would have been unbearable but would have been welcomed. Their first impression of each other wasn't the best and made things awkward, especially when Seniya decided to continue. ​

Allyson shrugged at the comment, "That's fortunate, though I doubt you'd feel that way if you knew him personally. He has a solid following in the Order." She decided to try and keep it cordial. As much as she beat herself up over it, she understood that there were times that things didn't go how she wanted them. Emotions had become overwhelming during that time; he was young and didn't know why she was protecting the Sith Inquisitor. At the time, Allyson really didn't understand it, but that was a whole different monster to wrangle in. ​

In that brief moment, she thought quietly about the Echani woman she left behind in the Empire. Not having heard anything from the encrypted correspondence, Allyson figured she was not forgiven for everything that had happened. Frowning, the Corellian had the worst luck literally when it came to romance. Looking at Seniya from the corner of her eye, Allyson assessed the woman as she continued to talk. She was a lot smarter than she originally put forward, but Allyson had already known that from her file. ​

Allyson thought quietly about the question directed to her. At the end of it, could she look in the mirror and accept what has happened, knowing that if she had to do it again, she would. There were a few things that she would change, most things about how the SIA was run and Loske continually interfering. Yet, beyond that, there was nothing Allyson would change. The choices that caused certain events were the responsibility of those involved. ​

"I can. As much as I dislike how some things turned out. At the end of the day, it's part of the job, and it's a job that I consciously continue to choose to do." There had been hundreds of jobs she had taken as a Jedi Shadow and as a contractor. Her hands were filthy from them, but she knew the work she did was important. "I only have one regret from this entire thing, and that's not being able to complete it. Things just got in the way, and at the time, I couldn't figure out how to avoid them. You Kiffar are stubborn people." She chuckled, thinking about how Loske was able to find her on every battlefield they had faced each other on. ​

Her shoulders relaxed as they started to draw closer towards the Tech Lab. Maybe despite all the snark and smoke, Seniya wasn't all that bad. "Now that we got past that, it is nice to meet someone who doesn't give a kark about what had happened. Seems that's all anyone can talk about nowadays. Even though at the end of the day, I was always on the Alliance's side." Another shrug as the Shadow did her best trying to sound as if she didn't care. In reality, it did bother her, after the sacrifices, even the ones for the first rendition of the Alliance. It was evident in the first-class Corellian bloodstripes that Jorus Merrill had awarded the woman. ​

She was still quickly the scapegoat or the villain. ​

Her tone changed slightly, attempting to be more welcoming as she decided to try and pursue an actual conversation with the unemployed detective. "So, what were you doing at the knighting ceremony? Your file read that you were already a knight."​

The hallway began to give way showing the visual direction that they were headed to the tech lab. As Allyson waited for an answer, she noticed another in the vicinity. It seemed the other woman (Mishel Kryze) had managed to slip by the Corellian's usual awareness. Now seeing her, Allyson decided to make sure that nothing classified fell from her lips.​

 

[Caldon Tenneth]

Traveling onboard a larger starship was not the same as a starfighter, but it did allow for more freedom of movement that a cockpit usually did not give.

Caldon emerged from his quarters a tad later than he had planned, freshly washed and dressed in his usual tunic and robe. Behind him, his shadow and constant companion R7-C9 rolled along on his wheels with a soft electronic motion, beeping and whistling a question behind him as the two walked along the corridor. Caldon turned to look at him with a soft smile and chuckled.

“Well, the mess hall should still be open. Though I never remember programming you with such concern for my well being.”

R7 gave what can only be described as an astromech snort of derision, at which Caldon laughed a bit louder as they made their way through the corridors of the vessel towards the training room. Caldon wanted to get a good idea of layout and figured the best place to start was in the training rooms, then the archives.

“Fair enough.”

As the two of them came into the training hall he spotted two young human males already there. Both appeared to be roughly his age. He decided to wait for a bit, motioning R7 to park it near the wall while those two had their discussion. He himself leaned up against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest while he regarded the two. If they were using the hall, so be it. But it payed to wait and see what was going on.

 

[Aeris]

PROSPERITY // TRAINING ROOM // OPEN
Kir Dantos

Aeris' eyes glance to the padawan's hand and he extends his own to meet it with a firm grip. His expression softens at Kir's compliment.

"Thank you. A simple pairing of Ataru with some Sokan techniques is all," he answers in a dismissive tone, "I could show you some tricks sometime. With enough practice I'm sure you'll be able to do just the same."

There's a moment of stone-faced panic as the conversation shifts to introductions. Aeris wasn't sure just how much the other members of the Order had been made aware of already, if anything at all. There were bound to be rumours from those who'd survived Brentaal at the least. The panic shifts to shame, but the man's expression remains unchanged.

"Aeris," he states, dipping his head once more, "Jedi Knight."

The words were bittersweet.

"There's no need to apologize, I wouldn't expect you to. I'm new to your Order," a smirk cracks at the corner of his mouth, "but not to the teachings of the Jedi."

Hoping to steer the conversation from any prying questions Aeris interjects, "Your skills with Force Sense are quite impressive for a padawan, Kir," his eyes follow the platforms in the room behind them as they fold back into floor and walls "it was something I was never that good at. A valuable skill."

 

[Bernard]

Halls of Healing, Crystal Room

Loske Treicolt

Five crystals stood arrayed in a circle on a stone tabletop. They had a rough cut, were small enough to be held in one hand, and resembled bonfires frozen in glass. Their light radiated into the pitch-black room, casting its centre in an orange glow, while the walls remained obscured.

Bernard sat cross-legged, silhouetted against the crystals' light. The healers had set them up for his meditations. He'd missed the last two sessions with the fire crystals while out chasing criminals with his Marshal friend, and the healers made sure he was aware of their disapproval.

Today's session would run for eight hours, four times the usual length. They scheduled the same each day for the rest of the week. The healing progress of his wounds had deteriorated during his two months of absence, out in the fields. A week of near-constant exposure to the crystals was the only way to have a chance at stabilizing the healing process again, so the healers told him. Despite the healers' insistence about the gravity of his condition, he rarely noticed the discomfort his wounds used to give him anymore. With lessened symptoms came a lack of diligence towards the weekly healing sessions. Why he still needed to attend them nearly two years later was still beyond him, but the professionals kept insisting each time he protested.

A full week of idle rest didn't sit well with Bernard, however. It had taken orders from the masters themselves for him to take some time off aboard the Jedi's new home to undergo the healers' fire crystal procedures. Now that he sat alone inside the room with nothing but the infuriatingly comfortable glow and a month's worth of backlogged criminal reports provided courtesy of the Marshals he regretted ever agreeing to this.

He flicked away a finalized report to file it away and tapped the next open, which promptly displayed the mugshot of a near-human with a wall of text next to him.

Some Mimbanese mine worker connected to a series of industrial sabotage cases relating to an Alliance-native mining corp which had filed an epic's worth of complaints about the man and his union.

His eyes wandered over the lengthy array of notes gathered on the man, and he went through the motions of reading them without connecting any real meaning to each crime listed.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

PROSPERITY // HALLS OF HEALING // CRYSTAL ROOM
INTERACTING WITH: Bernard ​

Ascension to Knighthood wasn’t about the hierarchical importance or the weight of a title. That hardly existed in their organization (or lack thereof). In the end, it was a personal thing. A rewarding recognition for all of the toil and efforts that had gone into maintaining the light in this war-torn galaxy. The academically inclined Jedi had come a long way from feeling like a member of the sidelines to a throng of action-oriented heroes and had found her own manifestation of strength. And Loske was a delighted witness to the occasion. At the conclusion of the ceremony, like oil draining from a shallow pot, the seated ranks of men and women rose and flowed toward the exits. Amidst the collection of Silhouettes, Loske cut through to her friend.

“Congratulations, Auteme!” After an encouraging squeeze to Auteme ’s shoulder, she peeled away from the girl, promising to catch up later and finally see those Thrawn posters.

The knighting halls had been strangely dim. Probably so all the focus could be on highlighting the individuals the ceremony was purposed for. Adjusting back to the regular glow of the curved corridors of Prosperity took a few blinks.

Her trajectory was purposeful to the healing halls. It was one of her last appointments after that kerfuffle on Plexis, and she was feeling a lack of necessity of any other check-ups.

The would-be Kiffar ambled along with the ship’s foot traffic, making way for electric carts, droids, other Jedi, and exchanging small and polite courtesies along the way. She wasn’t thinking much about where she was going until she got there and a friendly face, with aged lines around the mouth, and eyes greeted her. The healer was attractive, even in her elder years. Her blue skin and white hair a stark contrast, and the gentleness in her voice was therapy in itself.

Showcasing her improvement, Loske followed the instructions to rotate her arm and move it as instructed. The older woman’s tender touch applied pressure to her previously sensitive areas, which cued the Knight to confirm that was fine. Happily, the systematic appraisal came to the conclusion that she was fit for deployment again, and all the remedial treatments to her bones up to this point had been a marvelous and rapid success. Thank the Force.

Taking time to enjoy the walk through the therapeutic hallways, Loske had almost made her way out of the healing maze until an otherworldly glow and the faint feeling of familiarity pulled her attention.

“Bernard!” She hadn’t seen the Arkanian knight since Lanik’s funeral, where he’d been completely overwhelmed with emotion. A stark contrast to his usual infallible poise. Or had it been on J't'p'tan? Things had been happening so quickly over the past few months, it was hard to keep track. Significantly more so than the comparatively lackadaisical days of tidying up abandoned medical chambers aboard Peace.

There was no pause for an invitation –– assuming it wouldn’t come –– instead, she forced herself into the space and dropped to fold her legs, making it plain she intended to linger. Just short of wrapping him up in a characteristic hug, given she wasn't sure the full extent of this crystal circumstance.

“How’ve you been?” She started, and gestured to the display screen he seemed to be reviewing, which showed a portrait of information she couldn’t parse in a quick glance. “Is this what you’ve been buried in?”

 

[Bernard]

Halls of Healing, Crystal Room

Loske Treicolt

He glanced up from the report to find Loske already settled in next to him. The sudden proximity to another living person threw him off for a moment. It took a few seconds until he processed a response and set down the reports.

"Paperwork. The tedious aftermath of good detective work. I'm repaying a Marshal for a favour," he said, glancing back to the Jedi next to him. "It'd take too long to explain."

The affair on Velusia was embarrassing enough to have lived through, he didn't need someone he talked to on a regular basis knowing about it as well.

"Things have been," his eyes flicked back to the shimmering crystals on the short table, "good." He forced an expression that might have passed as a reassuring smile for a droid.

He'd never been skilled at intentionally obfuscating his emotions. Something about spending nearly two decades of training to live up to the ideals of morally uncompromising, emotionally repressed super-beings had left him mostly unfamiliar with the subject. Following Ragoon V maintaining his stoic composure had been difficult as well. Emotions used to bounce off him, now they stuck around to make themselves at home and he was utterly out of his depth at dealing with them. Another perk of following the Code to the letter for a decade and a half.

 

[Seniya Nehir]

ENROUTE TO TECH LABS // OUTCASTS, WAIFS & STRAYS
INTERACTION - Allyson Locke - Mishel Kryze - OPEN. ISH.
​

Listening to the woman talk was enough to elicit an honest to force chuckle from the Kiffar.

“If you’re looking to make friends and earn respect, Locke, then you’re in the wrong line of work.” Seniya admonished, shaking her head almost dismissively. The movement causing stray particles of grey-white ash spiralling off into the gap between them. “You’re a professional liar and you got caught in a lie, well intentioned or not, and that shattered the illusion that was Allyson Locke. Now your friends have to wonder how many other lies you’ve told them over the years.”

She didn’t add that once the seeds of doubt were sown, nothing would ever be the same. That there would always be some element of doubt, niggling suspicion or sliver of distrust laying between them. She saw as much on a daily basis in her own line of work. It’s what had kept the lights running and the primordial mass that lurked in the kaf pot sated and content before the Alliance contracts had started to come her way. Also what had made the detective a social pariah for a whole different reason.

Locke was burdened by her lies, Seniya with the awkward truths no one wanted to hear.

The Kiffar slowed her pace as the markings on the wall began to change, the formerly warm lines giving away to more sleek, clean cut and clinical decor, as if signifying the division between the esoteric and the more practical aspects of the temple-ship. Soon enough a sign for one of the numerous tech labs entered into view. A welcome sight to say the least- it would’ve been awkward to have actually made a wrong turn after all that.

“As I see it,” She murmured, purposefully dodging the question about the hall of knighthood. Deflection was far easier to stomach than reflection right now. “You can own it or continue whining that no one loves poor old misunderstood you.”

Shrug.

“Either way, you better start learning to be alone.” Her gaze flickered towards the NJO emblem emblazoned on the lab door as she spoke, lips twisting into a mirthless approximation of a smile, prompting another dry barb that was more intended at herself than the Corellian. “But what’s that saying you Jedi love? You’re never alone when you have the force?”

She would have continued further but the arrival of another presence pulled her up short, attention automatically shifting towards a slightly older woman of similar build and baseline characteristics as her current companion. Another Jedi at a cursory glance, but just as the word companion didn’t quite accurately describe Locke, that title didn’t quite fit the newcomer either. Clearly it was convention day for outcasts.

“Someone you know, Locke?”

 

[Mishel Kryze]

There was that feeling, the kind that made your ears burn, or at least they felt like they were. Nerves, anxiety may be and part of her wanted to bolt and keep going, but then she reminded herself. Running wasn't going to help so she gave them both a soft smile and while she gave a glance down the hall with the option of 'keep walking' in the back of her mind. Mishel crossed the corridor and decided to at best introduce herself. A few things could happen, she could be recognized as a chip off the ol' Kerrigan block - although that hasn't happened since the fall of the last Galactic Alliance. Where the then so-called Grandmaster Taeli commented on Mishel's rather unorthodox methods. Or, she could be linked back to Coren Starchaser to whom she was an apprentice, and lastly - her days as a Ren.​

​

But, Mishel figured - without those days, she would never have become the person she is now. ​

​

"Hi," she began as her raspy tone coated each of her words, "names Mishel Kryze, sorry to bother you guys I just uh, I am a bit navigationally challenged. Looking for the tech labs, you two wouldn't happen to know where that is - would you?" Navigtionally challenged was putting it mildly, of the days she was supposed to stay by either of her old master's sides and ended up lost somewhere else, were often.​

​

Seniya Nehir | Allyson Locke ​

​

[Open]​

​

​

 

[Kir Dantos]

PROSPERITY // TRAINING ROOM // INTERACTION // A Aeris Caldon Tenneth // OPEN

​

Kir's expression lit up at the mention that he could find some sort of solution to the problem he'd been facing. "I hope so, I think my acrobatics might just be improving. Progressing my Sokan is quite a priority I guess." He answered with a small chuckle accompanying the end of his sentence.

He nodded as he'd overheard small mentions of the name 'Aeris', but had never really followed up on them to know who they were actually talking about and in what context. Anyways, his attention span wouldn't have allowed for him to have remembered much information about the elusive figure. It was intriguing to see in person who they'd all been chatting about, perhaps to him it might've given a form to the words.

"Good to meet you Knight Aeris, welcome to the Jedi Order."

The young padawan, put forward a grateful nod, from his early days in the Order, he'd found that his talent mostly lied in Force Sense. His earlier attempts to hone it to a controllable degree had been less than fruitful, but he'd kept at it, and had managed to use it to a degree, mostly when flying his X-Wing and his new E-Wing, which he'd had specially ordered to maintenance himself. "Thank you, Aeris. It's very useful when used in moderation though I never make it a habit to use it as a crutch to lean on.

Out in his peripheral vision, Kir could notice another young Jedi standing in the doorway to the training room. He turned to the man, giving a courteous wave and a welcoming gesture to join them.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

PROSPERITY // HALLS OF HEALING // CRYSTAL ROOM
INTERACTING WITH: Bernard // OPEN
​

"Paperwork. The tedious aftermath of good detective work. I'm repaying a Marshal for a favour,"
"It'd take too long to explain."

A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth and she glanced beyond him to the arc of contained flames in their crystal coffins. Back to him, she drew an invisible circle in the ground, just beyond the cross of her shins.

“But Bern, those are the best kind of stories. I can’t imagine what sort of situation you got into where you owe a favour to someone else.” The mix of warm and cool lighting from their different sources likely caught a highlighting glint of her coercing, toothsome grin. "And I've got nothing but time.

How long's this treatment? I think you're in the same boat, right?"

"Things have been,"
"good."

If there were ever two people representing corporeal contradictions, it would be Loske and Bernard. The Arkanian was the type to marvel at a tapestry, silently appreciate the detail and move on. Loske, on the other hand, would be more inclined to notice a loose thread and tug at it until something notable unravelled. Endearing and irritating at the same time.

So she picked.

“Glad to hear it.” She nodded solemnly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She was conscious to use the arm that had been a detriment on Plexis, purposefully making it to more work than the other –– as if to make up for the lost time.

“Yeah, that’s good. I was a little worried about you after Lanik’s funeral. I’ve never seen you so vulnerable.” She looked up from the invisible circle she was doodling, searching his expression for a reaction of sorts. “I didn’t realize you were so close to him.

Grief can really sneak up on you when you least expect it, hm? Lanik's was probably the first official funeral I've been to...at least in the traditional sense. We weren't really close at all, but it was still so..” Her brows knit, turning downward and mouth rising into a thoughtful expression as she sought to find the words she was looking for in the crease of Bernard's elbow. Part of her hoped that showing how fluid the conversation could be would help curb Bernard's usual laconic approach to dialogue "Heavy? I guess? I'm not sure what word I'm looking for."

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Enroute to SIA Labs //:
//: Outcast //:
//: Seniya Nehir //: Mishel Kryze //: Openish //:

Did the galaxy decide that Allyson needed to be reminded of everything that she had realized after Bastion? Did the Force guide this headstrong, stubborn, challenging, and easy on the eyes Kiffar to continue to beat the lesson into her head? Allyson couldn't help but glance towards Seniya as she decided to give Allyson the hard truths of their chosen profession. Watching the woman's full lips curl around every vowel gave the Corellian a chance to predict the message, but she didn't interrupt her or stop her. With each annoyingly accurate account, Allyson groaned and quickened her pace towards the SIA's corner of the ship. ​

Allyson furrowed her brow while she continued to walk. Thankfully they were getting close, and this annoyingly honest conversation. It was finally when Seniya reminded Allyson that she needed to get used to being alone, something that Allyson at the end of the day feared. Stopping, Allyson stood in front of the Kiffar woman and tightened her jaw with frustration. "You know-" She didn't know where she was going with her stopping them in the middle of the hallway. ​

It eventually came to her as she fought the urge to push Seniya physically away. Instead, she did her best to close her out, build the walls that she perfected at the building between her and others. She heard footsteps, and a voice after her annoyance pointed out that there was someone else here. Allyson shot a look at Seniya as she spoke before turning to Mishel, "You know nothing about me, so mind your own business." ​

Mishel looked vaguely familiar, but Allyson, at this moment, couldn't quite place her. Her mind was scattered and trying to regain its footing after dealing with Seniya's unwanted advice. Allyson faced Mischel with a smile as she looked around. The ship was something new to her, but she knew a few things with the benefit of having had helped with some of the security features.​

"The Tech Lab isn't too far from here. If you follow the rest of this hallway, you'll find the SIA department which houses the Tech Lab and the Forensics labs." As she spoke, Allyson gestured towards the signs that showed the pathway of the tech lab. Allyson finished and glanced at the detective, wondering if Seniya would continue with her 'wisdom' while Mishel was here. Gesturing towards the Kiffar, Allyson introduced them, "This is Seniya, and I'm Allyson, nice to meet you, Mishel. Are you with the New Jedi Order? Your face is pretty familiar. I just can't place it." While Allyson started the conversation, she began to head towards the mobile headquarters for the SIA. ​

As much as the question was full of general curiosity, the Corellian was already prepared for infiltrators trying to cause issues. With her now apparent double agency within TSE and other factions, Allyson knew she couldn't trust anyone, including the former contracted detective. The woman was more right than Allyson wanted to admit to, no matter who she met, no matter who she let get close - there was going to be a veil of distrust.​

 

[Caldon Tenneth]

Prosperity Training Room. Kir Dantos and Aeris.

New to the Order, but not the ways of the Jedi?

Caldon had only a short moment to consider the meaning behind those words he had overhead one of them say before the other Jedi waved him over. He hesitated, thinking it over in his mind. If they were waving him over they apparently would be staying long, meaning that perhaps he should find another room to train in.

He would have done that, if the astromech behind him hadn’t rolled forward a smidge and nudged him in the leg, knocking him slightly off balance and pushing him forward. He turned and glared at R7, then muttered something under his breath to the effect of ‘someone’s not getting an oil bath this week’. R7 just let out only what can be described as a chuckle in binary.

Deciding to bite the bullet, Caldon stepped forward and offered a slightly awkward smile and wave as he walked forward, R7 trailing behind him.

"Hey, I was just waiting to see if you guys were going to keep using this room or move on.”

What kind of greeting was that? Caldon inwardly kicked himself at that statement but kept the grin on his face as he walked over.

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

It wasn't the lightsaber itself that made him recoil every time Kyra so chose to whip it out. It was the haphazard use and disregard for safety, coupled with a healthy fear of teenage impromptu behaviour. Also the fact Kyra actually seemed to think carrying a lightsaber was what made her Jedi. Even he knew that wasn't the case; a soldier is more than just his gun, a warrior more than just his sword.

"Thank you," he chimed in as the woman gave directions, then took a few hurried steps to catch up to Kyra.

"She wasn't asking whether you were Jedi, you know. You shouldn't be so eager to advertise yourself as such once we go back out there." Here was safe of course. What he worried about was them staying incognito once it really mattered. No doubt a Jedi running amuck in Sith space would put a whole plethora of targets on their backs.

Her repeated press of the button had him push aside her hand and press it once, prompting the doors to close and send them on their way.

"I hate elevator music," he sighed to the stereotypical tune filling the empty silence as they ascended to level three. Thankfully it was a short ride.

Kyra Perl ​

 

[Dhalinar Greystar]

A door behind the two Jedi hissed open. Upon first glance, it would appear that the door malfunctioned as there was no one standing in the doorway. Upon second inspection, however, the diminutive form of Morteg would be visible, if only for his wildly kept locks of green hair haphazardly tied behind his head. The Jedi Master walked into the room and looked up at the two very promising Jedi and smiled apologetically. He had been looking for the young Arkanian and the healers had told Morteg he should have been conducting his healing meditations.

“Yeah, that’s good. I was a little worried about you after Lanik’s funeral. I’ve never seen you so vulnerable.” She looked up from the invisible circle she was doodling, searching his expression for a reaction of sorts. “I didn’t realize you were so close to him.

Grief can really sneak up on you when you least expect it, hm? Lanik's was probably the first official funeral I've been to...at least in the traditional sense. We weren't really close at all, but it was still so..” Her brows knit, turning downward and mouth rising into a thoughtful expression as she sought to find the words she was looking for in the crease of Bernard's elbow. Part of her hoped that showing how fluid the conversation could be would help curb Bernard's usual laconic approach to dialogue "Heavy? I guess? I'm not sure what word I'm looking for."

"Good indeed, it is," he said, his voice deeper than expected and far more gravely. "Agree with Knight Treicolt I and several other Masters do. The loss of young Lanik and his Padawan was felt greatly in the Force. Not simply you that feels the change in the Force." He nodded. His piercing green eyes turned soft as they turned to Bernard. He was the failure of his generation. Sent off to fight in wars for no other reason than warriors were needed. It was difficult for a Jedi to find themselves in the role of a peacekeeper in the last few centuries he knew, but the continued failure of teachers to their students was abhorrent. And in the case of Bernard, he never had someone to train him to begin with, simply following the padawan pack of Ryv, Maynard, Loske, and Lanik. Now Lanik was dead, Ryve was traveling the stars to learn, and all of them had left the scarred and broken Bernard behind.

He was missing something.

"Accompany me on a walk, would you two?"
Bernard Loske Treicolt

 

[Aeris]

PROSPERITY // TRAINING ROOM // OPEN
Kir Dantos // Caldon Tenneth

Before the Knight has a chance to respond, Kir turns to gesture to another. Aeris follows the padawan's gaze, quickly spotting Caldon watching them from the doorway. The Serennoan's eyes shift between the young Jedi and his droid as they close the distance between them.

"I had planned to meditate," he answers, folding his arms under the sleeves of his robe. He'd barely been able to explore the vastness of Prosperity, yet he'd already found a number of stunning locations for quiet contemplation. The station was immaculate and unlike anything he'd ever seen.

"But I'd be happy to oversee any training exercises in the absence of a Master," he look back to the now barren room with a lingering sense of nostalgia, "these modular chambers can be dangerous for padawan without proper supervision."

 

[Leon Gallo]

Leon was starting to give up on finding the archives. He'd been wandering for some time, but hadn't found them. If only they had signs on this ship or something. Another thought occurred to the man as he searched. He would be just as lost in the archives, if he ever found them. How would he know where to look to find "What is a Jedi? or "What made a Jedi more than person with a laser sword?"

Leon came to a repulserlift terminal. He'd already searched the first and second levels, so he might as well move on to the third. He waited for a moment as a lift came, moving up from the floor below. The door opened, revealing the two figure already going up, Kyra Perl and Thirdas Heavenshield . Leon knew neither of them, so he just stepped awkwardly inside. He started to reach to press a button, but saw it was already going to the third level. Convenient.

"Uh...Do either of you know where the archives are?"

 

[Bernard]

Halls of Healing, Crystal Room

Loske Treicolt Dhalinar Greystar

The illusion of a flicker inside the crystal was remarkably similar to a real flame. Perhaps the radiated warmth reinforced the illusion to a degree that made the crystal's light play seem authentic, or perhaps it was a subconscious effect created by the crystals themselves. Bernard wasn't sure, but he enjoyed staring at the playing lights, almost through some primordial instinct that dictated his action.

Or maybe he just liked to ponder unsolvable mysteries. He wasn't even sure about that.

"That's the thing ...," he started, not taking his eyes off the lights, his voice low and unsure "I never really ..."

Never really what? Considered what effects the death of the Order's greatest Knight would have, whether he was corrupted by darkness or not? Madness had clouded his vision on Coruscant on the day of Lanik's death. A determination to destroy evil at any cost. Yet, afterwards, there hadn't been any salvation or righteous triumph. All he'd gained that day was guilt. He'd carry that weight until his dying breath.

He turned back to Loske, taking a moment to compose a response he wouldn't stumble over.

"You know, I-" the hiss of a door gave him pause.

Whether it was because he spent most of his time outside the Order on various Marshal assignments or some other cause, Bernard didn't recognize the being that strode into their room and made its request. The newcomer was quite short, green, and walked with a sense of certainty that Bernard's perception couldn't place on any one factor. He couldn't make up his mind quite what to think of the diminutive being, for fear of prejudicial judgement most of all.

"I must remain here by order of the Healing Circle, but Los- err, Knight Mat- Treicolt will no doubt be able to assist you, Master ..." Though he held uncertainty about the names, his voice regained the confidence born of a repetitious protocol.

 

[Charlie Nooran]

//: Hall of Knighthood //:
//: Auteme //:

​

Footsteps echoed as the Masters, and the newly minted Knights began to leave the ceremony. Charlie had been hiding in the background, trying to not make too much noise. She was visiting from the Silver Jedi and had just recently come home from a mission on Tython. A part of her felt bad about having been apart from one of her best friends, but they were Jedi before being anything else. Auteme would understand that - hopefully. ​

​

Wandering deeper into the hall, she caught a glimpse of the girl and followed quickly behind with a package in her hand. Charlie didn’t know what you got someone on their knighting day or whatever the Alliance called it. She didn’t know what you got your best friend in any situation, really. Charlie wasn’t used to having friends before Auteme her ‘best friend’ was a Knight of Ren who was only using her to try and get close to the grandmaster for some reason. ​

​

Friends were weird, but Charlie tried.​

​

It didn’t take long for the K’paur to catch up to Auteme, “Hey!” she called out to the girl in the brown and beige robes. Footsteps quickened as she stood behind her and offered the package. A grin spread across Charlie’s as she made the offer of the sweet cakes that she had helped her mother make. “I made them with my mom, just for you. They’re my favorite vanilla cakes with whipped cream.” Pausing, Charlie remembered people had different tastes. Embarrassed slightly, a soft blush danced across the Seoulian’s face as she cleared her throat. “I really hope you like them, and congratulations, Auteme, you deserve it.”​

 

[Kyra Perl]

Spoiler: Peeps I'm responding to

It wasn't the lightsaber itself that made him recoil every time Kyra so chose to whip it out. It was the haphazard use and disregard for safety, coupled with a healthy fear of teenage impromptu behaviour. Also the fact Kyra actually seemed to think carrying a lightsaber was what made her Jedi. Even he knew that wasn't the case; a soldier is more than just his gun, a warrior more than just his sword.

"Thank you," he chimed in as the woman gave directions, then took a few hurried steps to catch up to Kyra.

"She wasn't asking whether you were Jedi, you know. You shouldn't be so eager to advertise yourself as such once we go back out there." Here was safe of course. What he worried about was them staying incognito once it really mattered. No doubt a Jedi running amuck in Sith space would put a whole plethora of targets on their backs.

Her repeated press of the button had him push aside her hand and press it once, prompting the doors to close and send them on their way.

"I hate elevator music," he sighed to the stereotypical tune filling the empty silence as they ascended to level three. Thankfully it was a short ride.

Kyra Perl ​

Leon was starting to give up on finding the archives. He'd been wandering for some time, but hadn't found them. If only they had signs on this ship or something. Another thought occurred to the man as he searched. He would be just as lost in the archives, if he ever found them. How would he know where to look to find "What is a Jedi? or "What made a Jedi more than person with a laser sword?"

Leon came to a repulserlift terminal. He'd already searched the first and second levels, so he might as well move on to the third. He waited for a moment as a lift came, moving up from the floor below. The door opened, revealing the two figure already going up, Kyra Perl and Thirdas Heavenshield . Leon knew neither of them, so he just stepped awkwardly inside. He started to reach to press a button, but saw it was already going to the third level. Convenient.

Kyra recoiled as his metal hand pushed aside her flesh one. Had it truly hurt? No. Did she cradle it to her chest and rub it like a wounded creature anyway? Yes.

"I hate elevator music," he commented, the pull of gravity bringing them up.

"Probably cause it bounces around that empty head of yours," she mumbled under her breath. She was about to speak up and inform him that she knew perfectly well that she shouldn't be advertising herself as jedi in sith space-- she wasn't inept, she could--

The doors swooshed open. She pursed her lips, Leon Gallo 's arrival shutting her up. She gritted her jaw and leveled a glare up at Thirdas instead. Day 3 of this mission together now- going greaaaaaaaaaaat.

The energy in the elevator shifted, the force growing tangibly ... tense as Kyra unwitting affected the force around her. Empath problems.

"Uh...Do either of you know where the archives are?"

Her sharp gaze jumped to the stranger, the icey blue looking him over. It took her a solid moment to understand his words and mentally separate them from the ongoing spat she held with her companion, but when she did she softened. The lines melted from her features, the kindness bringing out an edge of youthful exuberance.

"Ayup! Level three. Past the meditation room, on the right," she chirped, regurgitating the directions. She paused, then added. "We're actually going there right now. You can come with us."

The elevator door's dinged open. The energy in the spaced lightened in an instant, the red head sliding past him with a tight smile as she took the lead. Because she was so definitely the leader.

"Big place, huh?" She slung over her shoulder, the Silver padawan walking through the halls like they were hers. She quickly scanned the walls-- Past the meditaaaaation rooooooms...

 

[Auteme]

Charlie Nooran ​

Yes, Loske's congratulations and little jabs were welcome enough, but part of Auteme wished there were more people there. Not that she was searching for praise or validation. Just that it meant everything to her that others cared about her, remembered her. While it is always good to believe in oneself, a little help from others is a blessing.

It meant everything to her to hear that sweet Seoulian voice.

She turned to face Charlie; a smile spread across her face to match her girlfriend's. Charlie seemed occupied with the package of sweets in her hands, but Auteme skipped right to wrapping her arms around Charlie and pulling her closer for a kiss. Auteme knew the Seoulian had other things to do, and she hadn't asked the other girl to be here. But she would never complain about a little surprise like this.

After a few moments she pulled away. "Thanks, Charlie. It means a lot to me that you're here," she said. "It's really sweet of you."

With the offer, she took the package and opened it up, taking a look at the vanilla cakes. As she scooped one up to pop in her mouth she realized how few 'normal' dates they'd been on -- to like, eat food, and things. Charlie clearly had no idea what a sweet tooth Auteme was hiding. She inhaled one of the cakes and grinned, mouth half full. "That's really sweet, too. I love it."

She chewed and swallowed before speaking again. "How are you? You were on a mission, right? How was it? Where'd you go?"

The questions flowed out, stopping only as she picked up a second cake. It was halfway to her mouth when she paused again. "Do you want to come see my room? It's really nice. And private, so we can eat these, and people won't look at me funny in the middle of the hall," she said, raising the cakes.