Faction Rebirth of the Star Wanderer: The Old Master Returns (NJO/Jedi)

[Mak Manto]

Fondor

Despite the fact that he had left the ship hours ago, Mak was still several city blocks away from the temple. He had found it hard to move from the spot as he stared at the building, unsure of who was waiting inside, of what would be waiting for him.

Valery Noble...

Kat had said the name with reverence, speaking of her the same way she had once spoken of other Jedi they had both fought alongside: Spark Vallen, Bethany Kismet, Ceel and so many more.

Pulling out his pipe, he cracked his neck as he sighed hesitantly. If he stood at this spot any longer, someone was going to notice and come to find out who he was. He had to go to the temple and find out what future would meet him.

It didn't take long before Mak was slithering to the front of the temple, his cane tapping softly on the surface as he approached the main entrance. Though, as he got closer, a young man who had been standing guard pulled out his lightsaber, holding it off at his side.

"That's close enough. Only Jedi and authorized people are allowed in here."

As Mak stopped, taking a deep inhale on the pipe, his beard crinkled at the words.

"I'm Mak Manto."

"And what's that supposed to mean to me? I've never heard that name and I've certainly never seen you before. Like I said, only Jedi and authorized personnel." Holding up his lightsaber to show it to Mak to prove what a Jedi was, he brought it back down.

Feeling the frustration growing, Mak pulled out a lightsaber from his robe and held it up. "Would you look at that? I've got a lightsaber too..."

The Knight froze momentarily, unsure of how to respond before he nodded very quickly. "You could have stolen that."

Now he was feeling it. His ire was continuing to climb at a fast pace as the Knight seemed to want to test his patience.

"You think I stole a lightsaber and decided to come to the heart of the Galactic Alliance, to your Order's main temple and pretend to be a Jedi?"

"So prove that you're a Jedi then! Why don't you show me that you can use the Force?"

"LISTEN JUNIOR, there's only so much I'm willing to do before I get ticked off!"

"THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M GOING TO ALLOW YOU TO COME INTO THIS TEMPLE!"

"THEN GET SOMEONE ABOVE YOUR PAY GRADE OUT HERE!"

They continued to shout at each other, both speaking over one another as the argument escalated, their voices carrying into the temple.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The raised voices outside the Temple caught Valery's attention as she passed through the main hall. She paused mid-step, her fiery amber eyes narrowing slightly as she tuned into the commotion. It didn't take long to piece together what was happening — a Jedi Knight on duty getting into a heated exchange with someone outside.

Letting out a soft sigh, Valery turned on her heel and made her way toward the entrance, her strides calm but purposeful. As she approached, the argument grew louder, and a faint smirk tugged at her lips. Whoever this visitor was, he certainly had a flair for making an entrance.

The door slid open, and Valery stepped out, her presence radiating calm authority. "That's enough," she said firmly but not unkindly, her gaze shifting between the flustered Knight and the older man, who held a lightsaber with no small amount of frustration.

The Knight stiffened immediately, lowering his weapon as his expression shifted to one of embarrassment. "Master Noble, I was just—"

Valery raised a hand to cut him off, her tone softening. "It's alright. He's expected." Her gaze then shifted to the older man — the one who could only be Mak Manto. A faint, knowing smile softened her features as she addressed him directly. "Katarine let me know you'd be visiting. Welcome back, Master Manto."

She gestured toward the Temple behind her, a warm invitation in her tone. "Please, come inside. There's a lot we need to talk about." Valery stepped aside, allowing him room to enter, her smile lingering as if to reassure him that he was in the right place.

Her eyes sparkled with faint amusement as she glanced at the Knight before turning her attention fully back to Mak. "It's good to meet you in person."

Mak Manto ​

 

[Mak Manto]

So, this is Valery Noble...

Looking at the Knight for another second, Mak slithered inside to the main hall, his cane tapping against the tiles as his eyes scanned the vast interior, watching Jedi of all ranks and species moving about to their duties. Looking at a young Pantoran Jedi, the woman had eight younglings following behind her, their voices excited as they entered one of the rooms. Mak stood there for a few moments, his pipe hanging from his lips as he took it all in, his mind quiet until he heard words being spoken to him.

"So, Kat was smart enough to let you know that I was coming..."

Putting his lightsaber away, he sighed tiredly, leaning on the cane as he turned to face her. The immediate focal point of her was the eyes, which were oddly colored for a Human. Not that it wasn't possible for technological implants or altered effects from using the Force, but as he stared at them, noticing the scar on her left eye, he nodded at the woman with no explanation given.

Keshian...

"Far too clever of a Jedi. Even as a padawan, I felt that she was able to see more in a situation than others could, that she was more prone to analyzing people in a way that allowed her kindness and love to be used in conjunction with her understanding of them."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery smiled softly, her amber eyes meeting Mak's as he spoke of Katarine. The warmth in his tone struck a familiar chord, and she nodded in agreement as they began to walk through the grand halls of the Temple. The subtle rhythm of their footsteps on the polished tiles accompanied their conversation, blending with the ambient sounds of Jedi life.

"Kat has always had a way of seeing people," Valery said, her voice tinged with fondness. "Her insight, her compassion... it's something I've always admired. She has this incredible ability to connect with others, even when they don't realize they need it. It's a rare gift."

As they moved through the corridors, Valery gestured subtly to the various training rooms and gathering spaces they passed. The vibrant life of the Temple surrounded them — Padawans sparring in the dueling chambers, Knights engrossed in quiet meditation, and younglings whispering excitedly as they scurried past under the watchful eye of their teacher.

"She spoke highly of you as well," Valery continued, her gaze flicking to Mak with genuine curiosity. "Told me you were someone with a unique perspective." They rounded a corner, the corridor opening into a large atrium filled with soft light filtering through stained-glass windows. Valery paused for a moment, letting the grandeur of the space settle over them before turning back to Mak.

"She also mentioned you might need some help to adjust to the Galaxy once more. Would you mind telling me more about your story?"

Mak Manto ​

 

[Mak Manto]

Slithering quietly toward the windows, Mak carefully maneuvered his way closer, his curiosity piqued as he looked down at the expansive garden below, where a diverse group of eager padawans was diligently practicing their lightsaber techniques, their movements fluid and concentrated, all under the watchful guidance of an older man, whose sage experience was evident in the way he demonstrated the intricate forms and stances required for mastery.

"My story would take many hours to tell you, but in time, I will tell you all of it. The short version, though, is that I am a dimensional exile, a rogue Jedi Master taken out of my own time into this... future."

Turning back, a cloud of smoke escaped his nostrils as his eyes took in the room, the haze of tobacco lingering around him as he watched the woman.

"I'm here because of an evil stain on this universe that I have to stop..."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his holocron; but instead of the standard cube that most Jedi holocrons were, Mak's was an elongated square gyrobicupola, an odd shape of gold and silver surfaces interconnecting with each other, a light blue light pulsing from within.

"I was battling him when we were both caught in a spatial anomaly due to our powers. He tried to kill me by using Force Storm to create a hyperspace wormhole and I tried to contain it using Dimension Shift. The powers collided, creating a vortex that pulled us both in, and it sent us here. For the last year, I've been trying in my... spare time... to figure out where he is."

Drawing on the pipe again, Mak wondered what her next answer would be.

"Tell me, Master Noble, what are your thoughts and opinions on a Jedi killing?"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery watched Mak as he moved closer to the window, his gaze fixed on the garden below where young Padawans trained with quiet determination. There was a calmness in his posture, but his words carried the weight of someone who had lived through things most would never truly understand. As he shared his story, her fiery amber eyes softened, reflecting both curiosity and empathy.

When he revealed the holocron, its unusual design glowing faintly in the light, Valery stepped closer, her attention drawn to its intricate form. The energy emanating from it was unlike anything she had encountered before, and she could feel the depth of his connection to it. His description of the battle, the collision of immense powers, and the vortex that brought him here painted a vivid picture. It wasn't just a tale of conflict — it was one of loss, displacement, and an unyielding sense of duty.

She waited a moment after he finished, letting the silence settle between them before she spoke, her voice carrying a calm and measured tone. "Your story... it resonates with me more than I expected. I didn't travel dimensions, but I did lose my time. I spent over 3000 years in stasis, and when I woke, the galaxy was unrecognizable. Everything I knew, every person I cared for, was gone."

Her gaze shifted briefly to the garden below, a flicker of vulnerability passing across her expression. "That feeling of being displaced, of being an outsider in a galaxy that's moved on without you… it can be overwhelming."

She turned her attention back to him, her expression firm but compassionate. "For you, it seems that purpose is confronting the stain you mentioned, and stopping it from spreading. That's no small burden, but I believe you were brought here for a reason. We'll help you face it, whatever it may be."

At his final question, Valery's expression shifted slightly. Her gaze grew sharper, more introspective, as she considered her response. "Killing..." she began, her tone heavier now, "is something I've had to confront often in my life as a Jedi. I was a Shadow for many years — my focus was on the Dark Side and eliminating its influence wherever it took root. For a long time, killing was not just something I accepted; it was my duty."

She paused, her hands clasping loosely in front of her as she gathered her thoughts. "But as I've grown, as I've seen the way the galaxy turns, I've come to believe that not all who are touched by the Dark are beyond redemption. There are those who can be guided back, given a chance to choose the light again. Killing should never be a Jedi's first instinct, nor should it ever be taken lightly. It is sometimes a necessity, yes — a means to protect those who cannot protect themselves. But it should always be the last resort."

Her fiery amber eyes locked onto his, her voice steady but filled with conviction. "The Jedi are not executioners, nor are we conquerors. Our role is to protect, to preserve life, and to bring balance. When killing becomes unavoidable, it must be done with clarity of purpose and without malice. Anything else risks pulling us toward the very darkness we seek to resist."

Valery allowed a small, soft smile to return to her lips. "Your fight is a noble one and I can see why Kat spoke so highly of you, when you consider these questions."

Mak Manto ​

 

[Mak Manto]

With all four hands resting firmly on his intricately carved cane, he felt the cool, polished wood against his palms as he leaned slightly forward, fully engrossed in her words. The soft ambient light of the chamber framed her figure, casting delicate shadows on her face that hinted at the wisdom etched into every line and wrinkle, each one telling a story of resilience and insight. As her voice flowed, steady yet rich with emotion, he found himself contemplating not only her experiences but the profound depth of understanding she possessed.

It became increasingly clear to him that this ancient Order had chosen her to bear the esteemed title of Grandmaster for all the right reasons—her insights were not merely theoretical; rather, they were grounded in the trials and tribulations she had faced, the victories and the losses that had shaped her journey. Her words resonated in the air like a gentle melody, and he felt an immense respect for the weight of responsibility she bore.

As for her words on killing, Mak's eyes slowly closed, and a deep furrow formed in his brow, causing his beard to crinkle with the tension of his thoughts. He could feel the weight of her sentiment settle between them, almost palpable in the stillness of the air, yet it was nothing less than he had anticipated.

However, despite the inevitability of her stance, he felt an urgent need for her to grasp the grim reality of what lay ahead, the dark forces that had begun to seep into their Galaxy like a shadow creeping over the horizon. It was crucial that she understood the magnitude of the evil they were dealing with—an insidious presence that would stop at nothing to extinguish the light of hope and justice the Jedi represented.

Activating his holocron, a miniature holographic Mak appeared, looking up at him.

"How may I help you, Mak?"

"Pull up the most recent image of Malic..."

As the miniature Mak disappeared, the appearance of Malic came into being.

"That is Malic; an entity of pure malevolence, a dark force that embodies the very essence of corruption and iniquity. His presence manifests as a hooded being who's true appearance I've never been able to see. Malic is not merely a being; he is the epitome of evil itself, a sinister force that thrives on chaos and despair."

"The reason I came to your Order is that I can't stand back and watch this Galaxy plunge into darkness again. I've battled a lot of Sith in my life, and in time, I might know who the players of this Galaxy are, but Malic is different."

"He doesn't crave the same ambitions that have consumed countless Sith throughout history, ambitions that have led many to chase dreams of grandeur and power. Unlike his predecessors who yearned for the title of emperor, seeking to rule over vast galaxies with an iron fist, or those who aspired to be kings, commanding legions of followers with all the trappings of authority, he stands apart. Nor does he harbor a desire for wanton destruction, as so many of his kind have done before him, reveling in chaos and desolation as if those acts could somehow fill the void within them."

"Instead, he seeks something fundamentally different, something that transcends the hollow pursuits of power and annihilation that have defined the Sith legacy for generations. His vision lies in realms untouched by their dark ambitions, in a pursuit that is uniquely his own, one that reflects a deeper understanding of existence and purpose in a galaxy fraught with conflict and turmoil."

"I have tried to discern what this plan could be, but I have failed so far..."

Slithering slowly around Valery, his cane tapping softly as the sound echoed around the room, a small stream of smoke followed him.

"I do not mean to slither on your toes. You seem to be an exceptional Jedi Master. Your Order is far more larger and powerful then I expected it to be, and I feel that this may work out for the benefit of all. I need somewhere to be, and in exchange for room and board, my abilities, powers and skills are at yours and the Council's discretion."

"I only ask that you keep your mind open to the idea that when Malic appears, and he will appear at some point, that you remember my words."

 

[Azurine Varek]

Return Of A Master

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Azurine darted through the bustling corridors of the Jedi Temple, her boots pounding against the polished floors as she weaved through clusters of Padawans and Masters. The sprawling grandeur of the temple's architecture, with its towering pillars and soft glow of cascading light, barely registered in her frantic rush.

She was late—again.

“Of all the karking days...” she muttered under her breath, dodging a distracted youngling who nearly dropped their datapad at her sudden appearance. Sure, she had been getting much better at making sure she was on time, but that didn't mean every day was a success. So many years spent on the run with little to no thought to time still pushed back on her. The excuses she’d rehearsed on the way here flitted through her mind, none of them convincing enough to placate Valery Noble, her master—and very likely not respectable enough for a meeting with some important Jedi Master just returning from Force-knows-where.

Her mind raced as fast as her feet. Was it too late to fake an injury? Maybe claim she'd been helping someone? No, even if she tried it, she'd only dig herself a bigger hole. That, and she'd promised Valery she wouldn't lie to her.

As she rounded the final corner leading to the Grand Atrium, Azzie skidded to a halt. She bent forward, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath while smoothing down her clothing with one hand. She stood upright, rolling her shoulders. Maybe if she led with confidence, no one would notice.

"I'm so sorry for my tardiness, Master. I really am trying to keep a better schedule." She said, her words clear with respect, even if she didn't bow, given that formalities like those were still really not her thing (well, more like she didn't remember them half the time). There was no excuse, and she refused to try and push herself out of it with some story. In true Azzie fashion, she'd much rather take it head-on.

She quickly turned her attention to the Thisspiasian beside Valery, her amethyst-hued eyes looking him over for longer than she probably should have. She had yet to meet someone of the species before, and she had to bite her tongue to halt any of her clear curiosity from coming out of her mouth. Instead, she merely offered her right hand to him—which happened to be the metal prosthetic—and gave him a quick fiery grin. "Padawan Azurine Varek, but call me Azzie."

Valery Noble | Mak Manto​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery's gaze remained on Mak as he spoke, her fiery amber eyes reflecting both respect and contemplation. His words carried a weight that few could truly understand, and his description of Malic painted a chilling picture. This was not just a threat — it was something deeply personal, rooted in his identity and purpose. She nodded slowly, the gravity of his story settling over her as he moved around her, his cane tapping softly against the floor.

"You have my word," Valery said, her voice steady but warm. "I'll remember everything you've shared, and when the time comes, you'll have the support you need." She paused, her hand resting lightly on the edge of a nearby table. "And as for room and board, you're more than welcome here. Your experience and perspective are invaluable, and I know the Council will feel the same way."

The faint sound of rapid footsteps echoed down the corridor, drawing Valery's attention. Her expression softened as she turned toward the approaching figure, instantly recognizing the hurried energy of her Padawan. A small smile broke across her lips, brightening the moment despite the heaviness of their discussion.

"Azzie," Valery greeted, her tone warm and fond as the young woman skidded to a halt in the Grand Atrium. She let out a soft chuckle at her Padawan's quick apology. "You're here now, and that's what matters. No need to worry."

The fiery grin and confident demeanor Azzie exuded were uniquely her own, and Valery couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Despite the quirks and the occasional tardiness, Azzie's heart was in the right place, and her presence always seemed to lighten the room.

Valery stepped aside slightly, gesturing toward Mak with a hand. "Azzie, this is Master Mak Manto. He has only recently returned to us."

"Master Manto, this is Padawan Azurine Varek, my Padawan." Valery's voice softened, and there was a clear pride in her words. "She's still finding her place within the Order, but she's already proven herself capable and determined."

She folded her arms loosely, her smile lingering as she watched Azzie extend her hand toward Mak. The curiosity in her Padawan's amethyst eyes was unmistakable, and Valery held back a chuckle. "We were just discussing something important," she continued, her tone more serious now, though not heavy. "But I'd like Azzie to join us if that's alright. It's good for her to hear stories like yours, Master Manto. They carry important lessons."

Mak Manto ​

 

[Mak Manto]

It was more than he had expected from the Grandmaster. His old allies and friends on Naboo from his own time, the Jedi Council, had considered Mak a threat more often than not, and even at times when he had been on speaking terms with the rest of his order, it had been difficult for them to listen, mainly all due to Mak's own actions, of being more militant on his actions and ideas. Giving a bow to Valery, Mak straightened his hat as he stood up again.

However, seeing the young woman run in made him turn slowly to gaze down at her. Mak leaned on his cane again as he turned to Valery, introducing the girl as her padawan. Seeing the padawan stick her hand out, Mak bent his tail to her height, studying her imperceptibly for a few moments before his eyes gazed at the prosthetic hand, but then his gaze moved back up to her face, his beard sagging softly.

The same smile Kalia had...

Sticking out his lower right hand, he shook it, pulling his pipe away from the corner of his mouth with his upper right hand and keeping it away from the young woman.

"Good to meet you, Azzie..."

Straightening himself, Mak looked over at the two woman.

"I'm at your disposal, Grandmaster. Is there anything you wish to do first?"

 

[Azurine Varek]

Return Of A Master

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Azurine tried to play it cool, of course, but the warmth of pride swelled in her chest all the same, as fiery and unstoppable as the sun of her homeworld, Iridonia. It wasn’t that her Master was stingy with praise—far from it—but every word seemed to carry a deliberate weight, as if Valery measured them with the same care she used in wielding her lightsaber. To hear herself described as capable and determined in front of someone like Mak Manto felt like more than just encouragement but a reminder that, even with her flaws and stumbles, Valery truly believed in her. That belief meant so much to her. It wasn’t just validation—it was a beacon, a steady anchor that she was on the right path, even in times she didn't think it herself.

She straightened slightly, her curiosity piqued even further, though, as her gaze flicked from Valery to Master Mak Manto. The elder Jedi's towering presence and measured movements carried a quiet intensity, one that instantly commanded respect. His unusual appearance—four arms, a cane, and that pipe—was enough to make her momentarily forget her embarrassment about arriving late.

As he extended his hand—or rather, one of them—Azzie clasped it firmly, her prosthetic fingers gripping his with a steady fierceness while doing her best to make sure she didn't apply too much pressure given she had no feeling in it. She caught the brief flicker of his gaze to her hand but didn’t shy away. She was used to that by now. Rather, she offered him a bright smile—the one Aadihr had teased her could disarm a Hutt. “It’s an honor to meet you, Master Manto,” she said, her tone genuine despite her usual playful energy. A mischievous sparkle played through her eyes as she added a quick joke at her own expense, "If you ever need a hand or two for something, I'm usually around."

Azzie glanced briefly at Valery before her curiosity got the better of her. “If you don’t mind me asking, Master, where are you from? And where exactly have you been all this time? The Unknown Regions?” Her color shifting purple eyes widened slightly. “Or even farther out than that?”

She realized a beat too late that she might be overstepping, but she couldn’t help herself. This was the kind of thing that fascinated her—people who lived through things most couldn’t imagine, who carried knowledge and experiences that could change the galaxy.

Valery Noble | Mak Manto​

 

[Mak Manto]

Mak nodded at the joke, bringing his pipe back to his mouth before puffing on it again, bringing out a stream of smoke from the corners of his lips that drifted off to the top of the ceiling. Hearing the question, Mak wasn't perturbed by her asking.

"I come from a different time. My order was similar to yours in many ways, with great Jedi that I once called friends. In fact, there was one young Jedi like yourself that I had a deep connection to-"

As Kalia Vondiranach's face flittered into his mind for only the briefest of moments, he stopped talking. Slithering away for a second, he gripped the cane harder as he came back to the window, feeling the old familiar pain in his tail ache up. Then, without warning, Zana's face also flashed in his mind and he looked down at the floor, breathing hard for a second.

"Just some old Jedi Master, that's all I am..."

Hearing the other question, Mak turned back around, peering at Azzie.

"Tatooine. I grew up there back when I was a child, when my master trained me. It's an easy planet for myself to live on, so I figured it was the best place to go to."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery watched Mak closely as he spoke, her fiery amber eyes softening with understanding as his words faltered. There was a heaviness to his tone, a weight she recognized as the burden of memories long carried. She knew that pain, the kind that lingered even in the quiet moments and found its way into the most unexpected corners of your thoughts.

As Mak spoke of Tatooine, Valery's smile softened further. "Tatooine," she echoed, her tone tinged with both fondness and thought. "A harsh place, but one where strength and resilience are forged. I've only visited a few times, but there's a raw beauty to it. It shapes those who call it home in ways that few other worlds can."

Her attention shifted to Azzie, and her expression brightened. "Master Manto's story is one worth hearing, Azzie. There's so much we can learn from understanding the past — not just the successes, but also the struggles. It's how we grow stronger as Jedi and as individuals."

Turning back to Mak, Valery inclined her head slightly. "Thank you for sharing this with us. I know it's not always easy to revisit the past, but it means a great deal to me, and I know Azzie feels the same."

She paused, glancing between the two of them before letting a small, playful smirk tug at her lips. "Now, perhaps it's time we show you a room? Or would you like to head to the dining hall?" She wasn't sure if he was hungry or already wanting to stay, but she'd make sure to be a good host either way.

Mak Manto Azurine Varek ​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Return Of A Master

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Azurine’s smile faltered slightly as Mak’s words trailed off, his voice shifting from a steady narrative to something heavier, more distant. She could almost feel the weight of the memories pressing against him, the way his grip tightened on his cane and his aura rippled like the surface of a pond struck by a sudden wind. The subtle shifts in its patterns—warm, then fractured, then warm again—were almost mesmerizing, and it tugged at something deep within her. The fire in her eyes softened, and she moved forward to cast her gaze out the window as well.

She understood. Maybe not entirely, but enough.

"I don't know if it makes you feel any better, but technically, I come from a different time, too." She said with a soft understanding to her voice. She would have reached out to put a hand on his shoulder but instantly thought better of it, quickly locking her hands behind her back. "Grandmaster Valery found me and took me in, but I still struggle with the weight of it all sometimes."

She'd only been awake for about a year now, give or take, after spending 900 years suspended in time. Though she had managed to move past many things with the help of Valery and others she'd forged connections with in that time, there was still much she had yet to overcome. Though she couldn't say she knew where Mak Manto was coming from completely, she understood the shifts she saw in his aura since they mirrored things she'd felt within herself, and she wanted to make sure he knew he wasn't alone.

"Tatooine. A harsh place, but one where strength and resilience are forged. I've only visited a few times, but there's a raw beauty to it. It shapes those who call it home in ways that few other worlds can."

Azzie tilted her head, nodding in agreement to Valery's words and letting her curiosity fully take over the sparkles in her eyes. "The last time I set foot on Tatooine, I was stealing from a hutt." She found herself chuckling at the memory given how outrageous the situation had been. "It's been enough centuries now that I'm probably not on the wanted list there anymore—well, hopefully, at least."

She took a quick step back, once again nodding in agreement with her master. Of course, she still wanted to hear whatever tales Mak had to share with them, but she wasn't going to push. Getting settled was important, after all.

Valery Noble | Mak Manto​

 

[Mak Manto]

Hearing Valery's question, Mak thought on it for a second. If he was going to be staying here, perhaps it was beneficial to get to know more of the Jedi in this order. Though, getting his own room would allow him to begin his research and figuring out where Malic was hiding. As his mind went between the two options, he listened to Azzie's story of stealing from a Hutt. Letting out a low single chuckle, he nodded to himself.

"I'm sure you're not on the wanted list anymore..."

He was being a poor guest. As much as he wanted to get straight to work, he couldn't allow for himself to become what he had once been when he had been part of the Jedi Council. There had been too many Jedi he had constantly been fighting with: Brayden Xykarn, Je'gan Olra'en, Hawk Hinata, Alethea Vondiranach and so many more. The last thing he needed to do was separate himself from the people in this temple and stay away from them.

I could've stopped it from becoming worse...

"Why don't we get something to eat, ladies? I haven't had a meal in two days now. I've been pretty much living on Corellian scotch."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery chuckled softly, her fiery amber eyes sparkling with warmth as she gestured for Mak and Azurine to follow her. "Corellian scotch might keep you going for a while, but it's not exactly a balanced diet, Master Manto," she teased lightly, her tone carrying a playful edge. "Let's fix that."

She glanced at Azzie, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "And maybe we'll get a chance to hear about more of your adventures with over dinner." Her teasing tone softened as they made their way through the corridor, the warm glow of the Temple lights casting long shadows on the polished stone walls. As they walked, Valery fell into step beside Mak, her voice dropping slightly in tone.

"It's good to see you choosing to be part of this place, Master Manto," she said sincerely. "I know it's tempting to dive straight into the work, but building connections here will help you, and I'm certain it will help many other Jedi." Especially the younger ones, who lacked the experience they had.

Her gaze shifted forward, and her tone brightened as the tantalizing aroma of food wafted down the corridor, signaling their approach to the dining hall. The faint hum of conversation grew louder, and the warmth of the room seemed to invite them in before they even stepped through the doors.

Valery turned to both of them with a smile. "Let's see what they have, shall we?" Then she motioned for Azzie to take the lead, her gaze softening with affection. "Azzie, why don't you show us your favorite spot to sit? I'm sure you've scoped out the best seats in the hall by now."

Mak Manto Azurine Varek ​

 

[Mak Manto]

As Valery came up alongside him, Mak bowed his head lower as she spoke in a softer tone, thanking him for coming to dinner instead of seeing his room and focusing on the mission at hand. Though, instead of the comfort and warmth that would have been expected to come from such a response, Mak stiffened and nodded to her words.

If only you knew, Valery, how often I burnt the bridges that could've helped stop the fights...

What a disgrace he was to be surrounded by great Jedi. The Grandmaster herself, a wise and powerful woman, and her padawan learner, an eager and seemingly bright student, taking him to get something to eat. Feeling the familiar frown reappear on his face, Mak focused on the cane taps as they came into the dining hall.

Hearing Valery asking Azzie to find a spot for them to eat, Mak peered down at the padawan, his eyes scanning the girl, wondering where she was going to choose.

Valery Noble Azurine Varek

 

[Serina Calis]

Tag: Valery Noble Azurine Varek Mak Manto

Serina Calis stood in the shadow of a towering pillar within the Temple's sprawling halls, the faint hum of distant conversation and the rhythmic tapping of her polished boots against the pristine floor her only companions. She was on Fondor as part of her studies, attending a special seminar on Jedi philosophy and galactic governance. A rare privilege Serina appreciated—if only for the opportunity to blend into the background and observe the Order's movers and shakers. Now, however, she was on a break, left to wander the Temple's corridors, her mind hungry for stimulation.

Her wanderings brought her near the entrance when she first heard the raised voices. It began faintly—an argument brewing like a distant storm—but as she drew nearer, her curiosity piqued. Pressing her back against the cold durasteel wall just out of sight, she listened, concealing her presence with the ease of one accustomed to keeping secrets. Her hands brushed her robe, ensuring her lightsaber was secure but hidden, her expression a mask of serene detachment.

The voices carried: an older man—gruff, commanding, with a sharp edge—and a younger, overeager Jedi Knight on guard duty. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the Knight's indignation. Serina had seen the type before—Jedi too rigid in their rules to notice the nuances of the world around them. But the stranger's voice was different. His words carried a weight born of experience, a hint of frustration with the bureaucratic barriers that now defined the Jedi Order.

When Valery Noble intervened, her voice cut through the tension like a blade. Her presence now, commanding yet composed, was undeniably captivating. Serina's lips quirked into a faint smirk as the exchange diffused, her curiosity deepening. The older man was no ordinary visitor; of that, she was certain.

Serina slipped silently along the corridor as they moved inside, ensuring she was never far from the group while maintaining an air of casual disinterest. She settled near a tall, sculpted alcove in a connecting hall, her eyes drawn to the intricate carvings as she continued to eavesdrop. The man introduced himself—Mak Manto—and spoke with Valery about a figure named Malic. The name struck her like a bolt of lightning.

Malic.

The description painted him as a being of pure malevolence, a shadow darker than any Sith she had studied or dared to imagine. But as Mak spoke, Serina's mind churned. His words resonated not as a warning but as a mirror to her own ambitions. A figure seeking something beyond destruction or conquest? A vision that transcended the hollow pursuits of power? Was this not, in some way, what she herself sought? To dominate not just others but the Force itself, to reshape it into something more meaningful and boundless?

Her fingers tightened against the hem of her robe, her expression betraying none of the storm brewing within. The coincidences were too stark to ignore. She had secretly been learning from the holocron of Darth Malak, a Sith of an era long past but whose philosophy had ignited a fire within her. And now, here was this mysterious Malic, spoken of with dread and reverence alike. Could it be...?

No. It was impossible. And yet, the thought lingered.

She shifted her stance as Mak's voice continued, his tone growing heavier with the weight of his words. He spoke of his desire to join the Order, to lend his skills and wisdom to the fight against Malic. Her mind raced as she pieced together the implications. If this Mak was to become an ally of Valery Noble and her Council, then perhaps his insights could be of use to her as well. But not yet—not until she understood more.

The conversation eventually softened, and Serina allowed her attention to drift, ensuring she still appeared outwardly calm and distant as she adjusted her position. When she heard their footsteps approaching the dining hall, she moved discreetly to the adjacent corridor, where she could observe without drawing attention.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Casual Attire
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike

Aadihr sat back on the starship, kilometers away, sipping his tea. He had been following Azurine Varek with his clairvoyance, having accompanied her to visit Fondor.

The Zabrak was no longer the focus of his Sight, however. The suspicious Padawan Serina Calis was a recent addition to Aadihr's private inquisition. He was initially unsurprised to see her presence near the temple, but she appeared to be taking the grandmaster and her guest. Body language clearly eavesdropping, colors of her alignment were a muted gray, that of one deliberately hiding their alignment.

Aadihr spent the rest of the afternoon documenting Serina's movements with the aid of his clairvoyant force-sight, adding it to a report to share with Valery Noble and Azzie once their appointments were finished. He smirked a little bit, not envying the poodoo the Padawan was getting herself into.

EXIT THREAD​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Return Of A Master

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Azurine strode into the mostly empty dining hall, her boots echoing faintly against the polished floor. Fondor's lights sparkled through the large, arched windows, casting soft reflections on the smooth stone. She scanned the space with a practiced ease, her sharp golden eyes catching the faint glimmers of distant shipyards suspended in the void. Her lips quirked into a small, wry smile as she spotted the perfect spot: a quiet corner by the window, away from the sparse clusters of Jedi finishing their meals or chatting softly in small groups.

As they approached the table, the flicker of curiosity about Mak continued to move through her eyes. His aura had shifted again—calmer now, but still layered with undertones of something she couldn’t quite place. It was like a melody that kept resolving into minor chords. She pulled out a chair and glanced at him as he eased into his seat.

The polished stone table felt cool beneath Azzie's fingers, despite the glove she wore, as she folded her hands in front of her. She caught Master Valery’s eye briefly, a silent acknowledgment of her encouragement to take the lead. It was a small gesture, but it filled her with a sense of purpose.

Turning her gaze to Mak, she tilted her head slightly. "So, Master Manto," she began, her tone light but probing, "Corellian scotch, is that a personal favorite, or just a necessity given your recent travels?"

The corner of Azzie's mouth lifted in a teasing smile, but she kept her eyes trained on him, searching for any tells in his expression. She wasn’t trying to pry—at least, not entirely—but there was something about him that fascinated her. His age, his aura, and the way his words seemed to carry a weight she couldn’t yet measure. It reminded her of ancient places she'd visited before: timeless, powerful, but scarred by the passage of centuries in a wonderful sort of way.

Blinking, she brought her focus back to the table. She resisted the urge to ask anything too personal—yet. For now, she’d settle for waiting, for piecing together the puzzle that was Master Mak Manto with what he was willing to share with them, one shard at a time.

Valery Noble | Mak Manto​