Public So, You Got Somethin' to Say? [Open to the Jakku Jedi Enclave]

[Ryv]

Ryv remained silent as Romi spoke, his eyes locked on the red-headed youth at her side. He recognized that look in her eyes—that hunger for more, something to tie over the urging, to silence the nagging. Kyra's reaction made sense given the context. The poor kid was a junkie, and if Ryv had to wager a guess, the life probably did it to her.

"None of that crap is good for you, kid," Ryv stated after Romi stopped speaking. "Take it from me. Years go by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, you're full of regrets you're never gonna shake. Better to get off the spice now while you can. That feelin' you got, that jonesin' for another hit, only gets worse. Folks won't be by your side forever. Make use of 'em now," he nodded towards Romi. "Addiction is an illness, one of the worst of 'em. You'll need someone like her to dig you out of that hole you've made for yourself."

He looked away from her, his amber gaze drawn back to Romi. "Like I said, boss, I want my boys to walk away from this a-ok. I don't want them to spend the rest of their lives strugglin' to get out of bed in the morning because of something they did when they were young, scared, and angry. Redemption, rehabilitation, atonement, call it whatever you want. Everyone deserves the chance. Even the Sith... it just can't come at the cost of hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent lives."

At that, Ryv nodded towards the Master and closed his eyes. The memories flowed from her mind to his, guided along the ethereal strands woven together to form the great empyrean.

The kiffar's breath caught in his throat at first sight. Oceiros? He hadn't seen the epicanthix since Korriban, the day the Sith sacrificed hundreds of captured Jedi in their baleful ritual to create a nexus within the force, one bound to the will of Bogan. This memory predated Korriban. It had to of been Bastion. Sith-Imperial legionnaires marched through the streets, their heightened positions far more defensible than the uphill climb both the New Empire and the Galactic Alliance were forced to face. Ryv could see the pain on his friend's face. The hurt in his heart at having to issue orders no man ever wanted to utter. Unfortunately, it was war. If they did not fight with the same conviction as their enemies, more lives would have been lost. Such harsh realities did not make that any easier.

The next one felt like a punch to the chest. His leg slid back reflexively, the kiffar's gloved hand finding Aelys' shoulder instinctively to balance himself.

Maynard, of course, it had to be him. There was no doubt about it. The Jedi-General fought with the very convictions needed to win such a war. An enemy like the Sith cared not for rhyme nor reason. If only his friend hadn't fallen to the darkness. Ryv had failed him by putting his faith in the Concordian time and time again, ignoring the signs, while the kiffar hoped he could do better. Hope would never be enough in the face of the Crimson Shadow. Ryv should've known that. He could've been better. If only he'd been strong enough to face his friend before his fall from grace. And now, with Loske gone, his brother's future looked grim.

Another memory, another blow to the Jedi Knight's mental. He dropped to a knee, his hand finding his head as his jaw tightened. Tears welled up in his glazed-over eyes.

"Bernard," Ryv muttered.

Soft voices that could not belong to an elder of the Sith echoed from below the arkanian. Ryv already heard this story. He knew those two got away, but if they were there, how many others could there be? He knew the Sith indoctrinated from a young age, but the archives spoke differently. Children were not herded into these temples and academies like younglings were. What were they doing there? How did Bernard fare after what happened?

Rhis' appearance didn't entirely surprise the kiffar. He knew of the nautolan's troubled past. The Sith did to Rhis what they'd done to so many others. They tore his home apart, wrenched his life away from him, and turned it all on its head. Just as they did Ryv, and Maynard, and most of the New Jedi Order for that matter. Ryv couldn't fault him for the pain he felt, nor the desire to purge the galaxy of what plagued it. Yet, seeing the crusader as he cut effortlessly through those ill-prepared to face him concerned the kiffar. The nautolan, paired with Rurik, could've overcome those who came at them early enough, but the academy was teeming with the Sith. There were dozens, if not hundreds more, on the planet, all of them heightened by the sacrificial ritual performed all across the planet. How long could that strategy last? There were so many questions, yet no answers to be found, even in the memories running through his mind.

The dark side ran rampant on Korriban. All of the Jedi there were not Skywalkers and Sunstriders. Most weren't prepared for where the Alliance determined them most useful. The sandstorm, wreathed in dark magics, coupled with the horrific ritual, was more than enough to overcome even the greatest of Jedi. Unfortunately, the New Jedi Order wasn't the greatest of the Jedi. They were young adults, brought up without masters, expected to fight a war, so many refused.

Ryv came back to, a hand rose to wipe down tear-stricken cheeks.

"This was..." Ryv took a deep breath, steadying himself to the best of his ability. "Yeah," he pushed himself to his feet. "A lot of what happened here is terrible, but... I dunno. I mean- it's a war. I don't know how much time you've spent with the New Jedi Order, Romi, but we aren't like you guys. You know, Coren, Cedric, and the other greats like Luke Skywalker. We aren't strong in the force. We didn't have masters. We've kinda just been left to fend for ourselves. When the Bryn'adul came around, or the Sith at Kintan, we knew we had to fight. The force has given us a means of fighting for others, and we want to do that to create a better future. It's just..."

He sighed. "No one was there for any of us. Now, I'm tryin' to change that. We're trying to help mentor those who come after us, like Rose and Aelys," he motioned to his two padawans, a somber smile on his lips. "I don't want this to happen again. None of us will walk away from this war cause, well, we have to fight it. But that doesn't mean we can't be better about it. Like I said earlier, we need help. No."

He shook his head at that. "I need help: you, Quill, Coren, Cotan, whoever. You all have so much more experience than me. I'm lookin' to your wisdom here cause we need it now, more than any other time."

Ryv slowly slid his hands back into his pockets, uncomfortable with the thought of his trembling digits on full display.

"I hold myself accountable for my Jedi. I'll gladly spend the rest of my life in prison if it means granting them the chance to have a long, well-deserved life after all this is over. We just need to make it there first, and to do it, I think we're gonna need your help."

Vexander Graves | Aelys | Rose Ann Lovely | Dagon Kaze | Viera
Romi Jade | Julius Sedaire | Aaran Tafo | Viers Connory | Kyra Perl ​

 

[Rose Ann Lovely]

Rose listened to her master and spoke up. “If that is how this will be then i will gladly join you in that vow. I will undergo any torment to help others.”

She glanced back over to him and smiled. “As i said before i don't like promises but this i will promise.”

She stood to her full height looking at him. “You may have heard don't underestimate your opponents but you should not do that with yourself as well.”

She grinned “as you have told me before. That sort of hesitation could lead to my death. Do we need help, yes we will.” she looked forward.

“We may not have had the perfect teachers and history. We may not live up to the jedi of yore but i do believe that we can become that and more in due time.”

She somehow seemed to know what she was talking about but plenty of padawans could do that and still be wrong.

“I pray that you hear my words Ryv . show more confidence or we will fail 'its a self-fulfilling prophecy bound to make things even worse.' I believe you said."

 

[Dagon Kaze]

A choking lump formed in his throat as he listened to Ryv's plea; it constricted his airways, the shortness of breath, his feet shook as the spiraling emotions of his fateful duel with is brother on Ziost came crashing into him like a merciless tide. Ziost. Dagon's baptism by fire. A cross he had to carry for the rest of his life because the Dark Side, the Sith, had corrupted his brother. They had ripped apart his family, his life and his future; a fate he had since vowed to prevent others from suffering. Tears would've converged in his eyes but there were no more tears to shed. Only conviction remained and bitterness.

Bitterness that they -- the young, the inexperienced -- padawans and knights had to act. To pick the banner of the Light and thrust themselves into a war others refused to partake in. A war against the Long Shadow. No longer could they ignore the shrieks of the galaxy as yet another world fell under the sword of the Sith, torched to ash. Families ripped apart, dreams crushed to dust. Widows and orphans flooding the streets begging, pleading for help, for retribution; only for their calls to fall upon deaf ears and blind eyes. The New Jedi had followed the Sword for a purpose, out of necessity, to liberate the galaxy of both the scourge of the Dark Side and the indifference of those who shied away from their responsibility to the Light.

He recalled the corruption of Korriban, that indomitable call of the dark side slithering into the minds of even the strongest of will; it broke through all resistance and assumed control. Young Jedi who had dared to do, who had boldly, or recklessly, struck at the heart of darkness and they had all returned branded as sinners. And that cross they would carry, if they had to but for how long? They were just kids who had returned from the front five decades older, aged by the horrors of the war, wrinkled by the affliction.

They could not carry this burden alone.

And neither should Ryv Karis.

Dagon stepped up, barely swallowed the lump in his throat and muttered, "Master Jade." he squinted, pain laced in his words, but his eyes locked with hers, "Ryv is right...we can't do this alone." his eyes shifted across everyone around before settling back on the legendary Jedi Master.

"We--we need your help."

The galaxy needs your help.


Vexander Graves | Aelys | Rose Ann Lovely | Ryv | Viera | Romi Jade | Julius Sedaire | Aaran Tafo Viers Connory Kyra Perl @ok i miss someone or???

 

[Aaran Tafo]

"I will check local starports for anyone matcher her description then. Rest assured, we will make sure she's taken care of properly." Aaran smoothly replied to Romi's statement of Thalia's current whereabouts. It he could hazard a guess, she was currently running around scared and angry. Not a good combination for someone so hot-headed. But he left his statement ambiguous enough. The Padawan would be taken care of, and she would hopefully see the error of her ways. Understanding that such rash actions, while somewhat understandable. Would only cause misery for everyone involved.

"We will endeavour that such an incident does not happen again. But if they do, please contact us. so we can ensure that such actions can be dealt with accordingly." He said, bowing his head once more in respect to the Headmistress of the Enclave. Let it never be said that he did not bring at least some level of professionalism to the proceedings. Even ignoring Kyra's continued insistence that the New Jedi Order leave. He simply fixed the girl with a stern stare.

Blaming every individual member of an order for the actions of a few is what caused half of this mess. To lambast every member of the New Jedi Order for the actions of a few was no different for holding every Sith accountable for the actions of a few.

But that kind of self-awareness seemed to be in short supply among many these days. And if what Ryv suspected was true, and she was dealing in Spice. Then one could hardly fault irrational behaviour. But it did raise some concern that Romi Jade was willing to allow someone who needed such help to be wandering around and harassing visitors.

But such affairs were not his business.

And when the Hapes Queen extended her mind towards Ryv. Aaran reached out, place his hand on his friend's shoulder to steady him. Slightly worried for the Kiffar's empathic nature causing the memories to be far more vivid than they should have been.

It was unfortunate that he found himself drawn into the memories as well. And there were not ones he was happy to see.

For the longest time, he was able to distance himself from the reports of misconduct levied at the New Jedi Order. He had been away during most of the major conflicts up until the Sith's attempt to retake Bastion. He convinced himself that such affairs could be dealt with. He had thought that such actions were performed by younger, hotter headed Padawans and freshly minted Knights.

He was not expecting to see two faces he recognised.

There was a sharp intake of breath as the memories faded. His grip on Ryv's shoudler, at first it was there to simply reassure his friend. But now it turned tight, almost painful. Fingers digging into the fabric of Ryv's jacket. And while unlike the Sword of the Jedi, he did not shed any tears. His Miraluka blood atrophying his tear ducts to the point where they were only barely functional enough to keep his eyes moist.

Instead, he allowed his body language to speak for him. Jaw tensed to the point where he risked cracking a tooth. Neck muscles bulging as every bit of him tensed up in both shock and shame.

"We..." He said, tone quiet. "Need to be better than this." He said, shaking his head. Before releasing Ryv's shoulder and began to make his way towards the Speederbike he rode in on. "I am going to find Master Quill." He stated simply. "I will give a formal apology for Thaila's actions and see if he has any idea of where she might have run off to." He gave the smallest of nods towards Ryv.

"And whatever happens. However you decide to go forward. I've got your back. Always."

Ryv | Romi Jade | Dagon Kaze | Aelys | Rose Ann Lovely | Viera | Vexander Graves | Kyra Perl

 

[Kyra Perl]

"Kyra. It's alright. I promise."

Kyra didn't think it was alright. She didn't think it was ok at all.

Was the kiffer tone death? She sure thought so. If you just want to talk you don't bring a whole squad in with you. You call ahead. You set up a time. You ask. It was cocky. It was arrogant. After everything she had seen of this sword before, Kyra saw his even tone and gentle words and didn't buy any of it. The only way people changed on a dime was if they were infected by the sith.

She would know.

"This is bollox," she hissed.

But no one was here for the jaded words of padawan who had left all Orders behind. Kyra gave Julius Sedaire a helpless look, plying for back up.
Ryv's words interjected the silence she had left Romi too, her sister able to speak without anymore interjection from her.

"None of that crap is good for you, kid," Ryv stated after Romi stopped speaking. "Take it from me. Years go by in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, you're full of regrets you're never gonna shake. Better to get off the spice now while you can. That feelin' you got, that jonesin' for another hit, only gets worse. Folks won't be by your side forever. Make use of 'em now," he nodded towards Romi. "Addiction is an illness, one of the worst of 'em. You'll need someone like her to dig you out of that hole you've made for yourself."

Kyra flinched hard. "Excuse me?" Her mouth worked in pure audacity. Perhaps he meant well, but she didn't see it. She felt nothing but mortification as the stranger called her out in front of countless peers. Unprompted.

How could he mean anything but to shame her? She fumed, her pale pink cheeks growing redder by the moment.





"No," she answered for Romi, sharp and protective. "Are you kidding me? You've been doing these wars for as long as I've known you, Sword of the Jedi. You had a master. Cedric Grayson. And your temples aren't run by children. You're the core for Force sakes. I've seen them! --Romi, they're pulling smoke out of their ass," she complained, a whine hitting her voice.

"This isn't a crisis of conscious, it's a damn backpeddle."

Scary thing was, she could feel they actually believed it. Did they really not practice free thought in the core?

She grabbed Romi's arm, gripping desperately. "I don't want our family in this," she hissed. Her eyes shone with intensity, fear pulsing inside of them. They had just come out of one mess, barely intact.

Not again.

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

"You called?"

Upon hearing his name said, Cotan finally came walking up to the group that had congregated around the entrance hall of the enclave, coming around a turn and stopping next to Julius Sedaire . "Be nice, yeah? I'm trying with this one," he muttered at the older man, before holding up a hand, ever-so-slightly tugging at Aaran's shirt with the Force, just to make him stop. "Better you don't," he cautioned. "Quill's never been the best with visitors and large groups, and right now, I think it'd be better to wait for him to reach out to any of us. Thalia's already on her way to my station, anyways."

Odd, how the last time he'd been meeting with Romi and Ryv in the same room had been quite a bit less tense. Of course, there were fewer people, and not so many intra-order problems to address, but it was still just a bit odd. But he couldn't really leave this whole deal to occur without his own presence, even if it meant a distraction from his search for Bernard.

"Y'know, Ryv, I was just about to go and make some tea for myself and Romi, try and continue a bit about that chat we had back on Exis station. Looks like that's not happening, but plans never survive contact with you kids, do they?" He gave Ryv, and the other NJO members around him a grin. "Now, how about we move somewhere a little more comfortable? I mean, unless you like standing around, being awkward and tense, and having a difficult conversation. I just think it'd be nicer in chairs and with something nice to drink in front of you."

A pause.

"Also I wouldn't feel like I might have to pull my lightsaber out and make you all behave at any minute, which would just be preferable for me, personally. I don't like all the tensi—"

And Kyra Perl spoke up. "I've been there too, kid," he replied after a moment. "And yeah, they had a master. Cedric Grayson. Maybe, what, Wyatt Morga too? The latter at least was a decent example, but pardon me for saying, Cedric, not so much. Right now? The vast majority of them are a small group of kids barely any older than you trying to live up to ideals that people like Romi and Coren even have trouble with, not to mention anything about Cedric himself, or numerous others throughout history. Lord Hoth, anybody?"

Not for the first time, it struck him just how amazing it was that he often ended up stuck in the same room as one of Coren's exes or kids, if it wasn't Coren himself. "He's trying. They're trying, and their families have suffered just as much as any of ours in all this. We all need to give them the chance to grow in this."

Ryv Romi Jade Dagon Kaze Aaran Tafo Aelys Rose Ann Lovely Viera Vexander Graves

 

[Ryv]

"No," she answered for Romi, sharp and protective. "Are you kidding me? You've been making these wars for as long as I've known you, Sword of the Jedi. You had a master. Cedric Grayson. And your temples aren't run by children. You're the core, for Force sakes. I've seen them! --Romi, they're pulling smoke out of their ass," she complained, a whine hitting her voice.

"This isn't a crisis of conscience. It's a damn back peddle."

The scary thing was, she could feel they actually believed it. Did they really not practice free thought in the core?

She grabbed Romi's arm, gripping desperately. "I don't want our family in this." Her eyes shone with intensity, fear pulsing inside of them. They had just come out of one mess and barely intact.

Not again.

Ryv blinked.

"I had Cedric for a year. Most have their masters for ten to fifteen" Ryv straightened at that, his gaze immediately finding the red-head. The kiffar's pain took on a hard-edge, one formed from memories he fought so hard to overcome. "Do you know what happened to my master, Kyra? Do you?" he pulled his jacket from his shoulders and pulled up the t-shirt beneath. His torso was covered from waist to shoulders with ravenous bite marks and horrific scars born of gnarled, grizzly fingernails. "You hear about Brentaal? When you were skipping around the halls of Silver Rest, you know what I was doing? You know what the founding members of the New Jedi Order were doing?"

He lowered his shirt and shook his head. "On Brentaal, a wormhole that led to deepest parts of the nether opened and flooded the entire planet with unimaginable horrors. These monsters, they..." he paused, breathing deeply, trying to keep it together as the origins of the Jedi Knight's long struggle with PTSD flashed at the forefront of his mind. He found Aelys again, and Rose, and Dagon. It took everything the Jedi had to keep his breathing steady. It didn't work. The world took on a dark hue as thousands of hungry eyes bore down on him. Cracked teeth and broken fingernails tore through his flesh until he wept open tears. A horde of bodies pressed down on him with the sole intent of ripping him apart. Just as they did the millions of people who once lived on the ruined world.

Ryv pressed outward with his mind. He found the three padawans who trusted him to lead them. He looked to Cotan. Ryv's quivering consciousness latched onto the four of his friends, no, his family. They bore witness to the memory, buried beneath otherworldly monsters, ripped apart while his master was forced to protect the innocents who relied on them, the Jedi. More tears streamed down the Jedi Knight's cheeks as he slowly regained some semblance of control, strengthened by the resolve of the Jedi who relied on his tenacity. Even after losing his master and so many of his friends, Brentaal still fell. They were forced to abandon everything. Failures.

"You know, Kyra," he looked back over his shoulder, slowly pushing off his lifelines. "At that battle, I lost Cedric, a man I would call my father. A building crashed down on him and put him into a coma... for months. I was eighteen, then. When Cedric awoke from his coma, he took the Barash, abandoning me to pick up the pieces of his mistakes. Beside other Jedi my age or younger, we created the New Jedi Order. We united the Core Alliance and the High Republic. Kids, not adults, kids."

He pressed forward again, stopping a few feet from the Perl. "I didn't choose to be the Sword of the Jedi. I was eighteen years old, fresh from a month of torture at the hands of a Sith Lord. You wanna know why Wyatt chose me?" he asked, trembling at the memories. "Because there was no one else. I fought the Bryn'adul. I fought the Sith at Kintan, beside the Silvers. I didn't give up when the going got tough. I. Just. Got. Tougher."

Ryv stepped away from her, shaking his head. "Hate me, condemn me, do whatever you want, Kyra. But don't think for a minute if you came to Coruscant or Prosperity, or anywhere else, the New Jedi Order stood strong, that we would abandon you. Even now, you've spit on everything I've lost. You've disrespected the deaths of honorable and good people. And if you asked for help, I would be there for you, because that's what it means to be the Sword of the Jedi."

Cotan Sar'andor | Aelys | Rose Ann Lovely | Dagon Kaze | Kyra Perl ​

 

[Kyra Perl]

Something in her snapped. It was no secret that Kyra had been going down a long, dark road. The spices were just a piece-- Even Ryv had called her out on it with one glance.

Everything she had lost...

Everything she had done...

He gave her his sob story and she didn't even bother with hers because in the end it didn't matter. He simply thought he felt deeper and experienced more than she ever could, and he used it as justification for his sins.

"You can't have. My. Family." Her cybernetic hand reeled back, then flew forward towards his nose.


There were no words for how out of character this was for youngest legacy of Perl and Starchaser. But boy did it feel good.

Spoiler

IM SO SORRY

 

[Ryv]

There wasn't much to be said in response to Kyra's actions. He felt her intent. The anger in her body, the build-up of tension from her fist all the way up her metallic arm. Ryv knew what was coming long before Kyra likely did. The empath understood the desire to just explode and let it all out. He couldn't fault her. Sometimes, it just felt good to hit something. So he let it happen.

He stepped into the punch intentionally, his nose snapping as the metallic fist crashed into his face. Blood splattered across his t-shirt, more tears rolling down his face from the mixture of pain and the well-placed punch.

Rather than say anything or fight back, the kiffar leaned into the woman and wrapped his arms around her in an attempt to hug the troubled girl.

"It's okay to be angry, Kyra. It's okay to let it out."

Kyra Perl ​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

He stopped as he felt the grip of Cotan Sar'andor grab the back of his shirt. Exhaling as he tried to master some of the strain that was on his mind. "Perhaps you're right Master Cotan. I just feel restless doing nothing." He said, capitulating to the older Je'daii's wisdom in this matter. Moving back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ryv. Offering the Sword of the Jedi his shoulder as he poured his heart out to the unflinching gaze of Kyra Perl .

Could he blame her for being unsympathetic to his plight. He did not know. For this woman was a stranger to him. He did not know her story. Her failings, her highs and her lows. The most recent brush he had with the Perl clan was when he decided to accompany Auteme and Cotan to Nida's trial. An event that he admittedly did learn a great deal from.

So while he was not unsympathetic to her. He drew the line at raised fists when one party did come to make amends. How would she feel if Nida was in the same position as Ryv? Feeling nothing but sorrow for her misdeeds, genuinely seeking atonement. Only to be spat on.

But he could admire Ryv's compassion. Being able to take the blow and turn the other cheek. His own body tensing up again as he fought down the instinct to leap to his friend's defence. His hand lashing out to stop Ryv's own hot-headed Padawan Aelys from acting rashly.

"Perhaps Master Cotan is right." He said, looking to Romi Jade raising a brow at her, curious as to what her response would be for her student's actions. After all, they did come here in response to a violent, heated attack. Was Kyra's reaction any different to Thaila's?

Would she face similar expulsion? Or would familial loyalty win out?

"Perhaps we should adjourn inside. Where things are a bit cooler."

 

[Kyra Perl]

She couldn't open the hand. The metal had seized up, gears cranking as her anger sufficed her. Blood flowed, a messy after affect of a satisfying sound.

Old words came to light, a warning not heeded.

Spoiler

Arms wrapped around her, the emotions of the owner intensifying. She jerked back, ready to scratch-- hit-- she felt wild in that moment. Without the drugs-- she couldn't do it without the drugs.

It was ironic that she was losing her chit in a meeting designed to talk about how they could prevent padawans from losing their chit.

It just went to show, the NJO wasn't the only place with padwans struggling at war. Kyra flew backwards. It wasn't hard, the space was small. One step and she was already in the hall. All the eyes were on her and it just made it that much harder-- directed energy, directed intent... made the emotions flow all that much easier to her.

She knew when it was time to withdraw. She turned on her heel, red locks whiping as she ran out the opposite way.

Not Romi. Not her father.

Oh force, what had she done.

(thanks for the story! i got a visitor arriving for the weekend right now so consider this my exit)

 

[Aelys]

Aelys' shoulders raised up into a shrug, recalling that he hadn't seen Dagon for a few weeks. Suppose he had been here the whole time. Shrugging again, he finally opened his mouth to speak. "Uh, Ryv got a message that Thalia attacked a Jedi. Came out here to check it out..." Wondering how much he should say. It was public, the Jend-Ro Quill message, probably played hundreds of thousands of times over the HoloNet. But, he didn't know where Dagon's opinion would fall. He felt strong about it, and he couldn't bring himself to give voice to the other reasons. To the antics of Jend-Ro Quill and the contents of the message Romi Jade had sent.

For the third time, he shrugged.

Giving a look to Ryv and then to Master Jade, he watched as the supposed Sith memories were shared.

Sith memories?

Sith.

The paragons of darkness, where those that were exceptional at deceit and violence excelled above their peers?

"The Sith play on that."

"Whose memories are you showing?"

Aelys stepped forwards, and within moments Ryv was reaching for him, and of course, his faithful Padawan supported him. The Sword had put his faith in him since that very first day that they had met. And since then, the Padawan had strived to not let him down. On Ziost, he fought against his better instincts of self preservation, let himself get shot. Just for a Sith to turn around and try to gun him down. Whatever the truth of the matter was, of the New Jedi Order firebombing Korriban, Aelys couldn't find it in himself to feel bad.

In a few short months he had seen enough from the Sith to know them to be beyond saving.

"Ryv? What did you see?"

His hazel gaze flickered back and forth between Ryv and Romi.

Aaran Tafo prepared his departure after. He was after the apparent Padawan Thalia Senn, whoever that was. She was a member of the New Jedi Order. Even if he didn't know who she was, he'd hope she was safe. They shared a kinship as a Jedi, and that was enough for him to wish them well.

Moments later he felt the connection between his mind and Ryv's, and he felt, rather than saw the oppressive memories. The pressure of bodies closing in on him, pinning and crushing him to the ground. Grabbing, pulling and ripping at his skin and clothes as he struggled to realize what was happening. The load was lightened by the likes of Dagon Kaze 's and Cotan Sar'andor 's minds.

And in the following moments, he struggled to find himself, to piece it all together as he sifted through feelings that weren't his own.

Aelys' brow furrowed. Where one moment Ryv had been standing next to him, the next who was moving. Where? And then he saw the hand flying up, and the Padawan lurched forwards, hands balled into ebony fists. But before he got even a half step, a strong grip found him and pulled him back. "Get off me!" His body jerking from side to side before he wrenched himself out of the Battlemaster's grasp, his hands tugging and pulling his jacket back around him. "I'm good," he says. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, thankfully for his darkened flesh it was almost unnoticeable. Watching the redhead flee down some corridor before dropping a heavy hand on Ryv's shoulder and squeezing.

"You sure you're as bad at this as they say? 'Cuz I would''ve..."

 

[Jerek Morrows]

When it came to contempt within the Order, the Shadows got involved. That was part of the reason they existed. Keeping the Jedi honest was a grim duty, and one that exempted one from the normal flow of duties. In the same way that they worked hands on with the darkness, they had to separate to find the truth. Jerek had no home. There was no singular entity within the Jedi he felt called to, and no place that felt welcome.

In turn, Jakku felt similarly foreign when he arrived. They kept their distance, understandably. His inquiries started from the face of the problem as they dug their way to the roots. Why had Master Quill sought to decry the New Jedi Order? It wasn't as simple as what it seemed.

Certainly, the situation between the New Imperials and the Alliance had merit as a worry; but that was a worry for the collective, not a faceless seeker of the truth. His job was to peer deeper, and to unmask the circumstances of a side that seemed far less significant.

Jakku was a singular entity, a small portion of the whole. At some level, it had a connection to Quill, who had vacated Hoth recently. If he wanted to find the old man, he had to start with people who knew him.

Romi Jade was the most likely candidate outside of Auteme , but the so-called Shield of the Jedi was part of the New Jedi Order. She was unlikely to have any sort of communication with the Master. So, he'd made his way to this Enclave and began to study- Quill did not make his communications particularly unknown. It did not seem he wanted to keep information clandestine. That was, at least, not worrisome.

What did bother Jedi Morrows were the escalating voices from outside of the Communications center. He stood from the recordings and stepped out of the door, his face a mask of solemnity despite the questions behind his eyes. "This seems a bit loud for a Jedi Enclave," he noted as he recognized the acting Sword of the Jedi.

Ah.

So, the Alliance came seeking its own answers. It had nothing to do with him, in truth. He hardly wanted to get involved in any subsequent squabble, especially between faction-split ideologues who were supposed to be on the same side.

"Excuse me," he said as he turned back to the door and sought to close it behind him.

He was close. He could sense it.

 

[Lucien Dooku]

JAKKU | NJO CREW

---

---

"This is actually pretty pathetic."

Lucien offered as a response to the situation unfolding in front of his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders to accompany the rather blunt observation of the situation, narrowing his eyes slightly at the interaction between Ryv and Kyra. Luc could only recount the past four years of trials that he underwent as a Jedi within the New Imperial Order. Whether it was the constant warfare that brought the Imperials through the threshold of the Sith's door, or the countless lives that were lost to stave off a threat that threatened the existence off people who refused to be nothing less than defiant against their evils.

He watched from the frontlines of one theater to the next as good men died for the greater good of what they thought was right. Meanwhile the Order of the Silvers bided their time, content to sit back and watch as the galaxy quite literally burned through their policy of inaction. Entire planets wiped clean of life, be it the Sith's scorching of the Braxant Worlds, or the Bryn'adul's war path through the Outer Rim. It amazed him to see Jedi unwilling to do what was right. To fight for the people, even if it meant placing yourself in a position to have to reconsider your own moral code.

Whether it was the Silvers or the various Masters who sat upon the peripheral, there was a part of him that truly hated them all. To be villainized as wrong-doers was a feeling that he could relate to, given where his primary allegiance resided. Men like Ryv were unfortunate to live in such a time where the policy of inaction mixed hand-in-hand with the hubris of those Masters who abandoned the young to their fates.

To carve their own path through a galaxy that abandoned them to the wolves. Perhaps he should've been able to empathize with the woman in front of the group, much like Ryv himself seemingly did. But Luc didn't. He pitied her, but he still despised what she represented nonetheless.

He was a Jedi, but he was also a soldier.

A warrior who saw first-hand what the followers of the dark side had done to denizens of the galaxy for the past five years. It wasn't the mistakes of the New Jedi Order that were the primary concern to be made. Those mistakes could be forgiven, but what Jedi like Kyra Perl represented were absolutely unforgiveable in his eyes. The same hubris which brought the Jedi of the Republic to the brink of extinction had somehow carried itself far into the present reality of the day. Coupled with the passivity of this Generation's -- or missing, to be accurate -- Masters, it wasn't a shocking revelation that they found themselves faced with morally questionable decisions.

People die if you make a mistake. Your friends die, or you die.

War was hell, as he later figured out.

Even more-so if you're just a young kid trying to make a difference when your idols and mentors are simply not there. Perhaps that was part of why he considered it odd for this interaction to have began. But then again, maybe he should have not. Jedi got along with well tyranny, alongside their predisposition for showing arrogance in the face of the darkness clouding their perception. Historically it was as part of their culture, as much as carrying a lightsaber. It was a culture that he could see the NJO beginning to change.

And that's all that mattered to him in the end.
​

​

 

[Rose Ann Lovely]

Rose watched them all tear up and wondered if something was wrong with her. perhaps she dealt with it differently or maybe she was insane in some way. likely she said scoffing in amusement a mix of both.

But then her blood boiled at the sight of her master being hurt even if he allowed it. she stood doing nothing though, as she watched Ryv then hug her.she knew that he always knew how to deal with a person from her own experiences. she wasn't always sunshine and rainbows anyways. but still she felt like a tight ball of emotions was being squeezed in her chest smaller denser. like the big bang theory she felt like she would explode.

yet she did not. she still felt sick even when the feeling began to wear away. she realized it was not anger that she felt rather panic. she muttered under her breath in Shi'idese.

after Kyra Perl left rose walked over to Ryv. "let me take care of that for you." she said already beginning to mop up the blood. "it might take me a minute to fix your nose."

she bit her lip softly. "if you will let me. I know some Jedi would refuse."

she couldn't care for what any one else thought on the situation at the time. she was learning yes. she also knew that as a padawan one of her jobs was to help her master and vice versa. she felt impressed with her own self restraint Ryv was the only person she was really close with. the only person who she willingly told her past to. he had comforted her in her time of need when they had first met right after all the kark that went down with her last master.

rose smiled softly. "even if you do say no. im always here for you."

she felt that old small spark. yes that one she grabbed onto it nurturing it. she would open up to others when she was ready. but just to make sure she had it for now she spoke.

"im here for every one else to."

 

[Viera]

Viera winced slightly as she listened to Ryv criticise Kyra’s spice habit. He certainly wasn’t wrong, but going against someone who was using a vice as a crutch, to help forget and push through things wasn’t going to end well. It was just burning the fuse even faster towards the inevitable explosion.

She watched with admittedly rapt attention as Master Jade reached out to share the memories with Ryv, and whatever they contained seemed to hit the Sword of the Jedi hard. Viera’s gaze shifted as she watched the Jedi closest to Ryv, those who had arrived with him. Ones that helped him when he stumbled, and those that shared in viewing the memories.

Part of her was curious, that innate desire to know both sides of the conflict burned within. But she refrained, knowing she was merely a stranger or acquaintance to most that were present.

It didn’t kill the curiosity though, after all Viera was one who preferred seeing both sides of a conflict before coming to a judgement. But she remained resolute, staying in her spot and simply observing.

Cotan Sar’Andaor made his appearance known just in time for the outburst to rip from Kyra’s emotional core. Viera too had taken a step forward, intending to interject before things blew up even further. But refrained as Kyra verbally bit back at Ryv, the fuse growing ever shorter, Ryv replying back, until finally…

The sound of a nose being broken echoed across the area.

Viera walked forwards, now fully intent on stepping in to halt any further violence. Instinct drawing her to act even though she was confident the now broken-nosed Ryv wasn’t going to retaliate. And sure enough, his follow up action was to simply hug the young Zeltron. A de-escalation of violence, but if Viera was the betting type…

Kyra swiftly broke the embrace, emotionally fueled eyes zipping around the room at those that were no doubt exuding a mix of emotions towards the natural empath. It was a moment where Viera was glad her Master had taught her how to suppress them, at least in terms of being picked up through empathy.

Albeit, if anyone took a good empathic look into Viera, and they’d find multiple someones or somethings full of unrest. Originating not from the Thrysian herself, but...elsewhere. And they were bouncing around trying to get through, but Viera was keeping them quiet.

Viera sighed as she stood closer to where the chaos had erupted, body at an angle looking in the direction Kyra had run off towards. She was tempted to follow, and still might, but right at this moment she knew her focus should be here.

“I agree with Master Cotan, we should find a place for us all to sit, drink some tea to calm our minds.” She turned to face Ryv, giving the Jedi a small respectful nod. She approached the man, not catching the fact Rose had literally just offered what the Thrysian was about to. “Are you in need of some healing, Knight Ryv?” Viera asked, figuring the answer was going to be a no. In her experience, someone who regularly fought on the frontlines were the type that could repair something as small as a broken nose with little fuss.

But it would be rude to not at least offer, especially to someone who was essentially a guest at the Enclave.

Ryv | Romi Jade | Aelys | Dagon Kaze | Kyra Perl | Vexander Graves | Aaran Tafo | Viers Connory | Julius Sedaire | Rose Ann Lovely | Cotan Sar'andor | Jerek Morrows | Lucien Dooku​

 

[Violet Horne]

Wow, did I pick the wrong week to visit Jakku.

She never felt more like she didn't belong than when she watched them all interact with one another.

There seemed to be so much history balled in here. Not just between them, but between the causes they represented. Old versus new, dogma versus new beginnings, war versus... pacifism and weakness.

"Perhaps the Sword's Padawan should handle that, Viera?" Violet called out gently, while trying to ignore that swampy voice in the back of her head. "She seems quite protective of her Master." Those dark eyes glanced on over to the young one. Young... as if all of you aren't so close to one another in age. "I agree that tensions seem to be..."

Attention shifting towards Kyra.

"...quite high. But I have always found tea to be soothing in that." Her hands wrung together behind her back nervously. All these emotions, the loud noises, were distressing in the least. Just a moment ago one had practically crushed someone else's face in. That wasn't a little thing. But maybe... maybe this was a long time coming.

why do the humans fight?

One of their sides hurt Sith kids during the war.

kids? ah yes, short humans. why is this a point of contention? they are the Enemy.

Violet blinked there. Because they are children, we can't just- you are thinking like a human, don't be pathetic. what is the practical difference between a short human trying to murder you or a tall one? the short one is easier to destroy. They are younger? that just means they had less time to be evil. Either way, destroying Evil is always preferable to leaving it fester.

She clenched her jaw there, glancing towards Dagon, at least one familiar face and trying to push that muddy sentiment back. It worried her that these thoughts were so alien, so... merciless. You were evil or you were not. If you were? You only deserved destruction. No empathy, no consideration that life wasn't just black and white. you can consider it with red starlight through your gut, when they stab you through with it.

"Dee, you want some tea?" Stubborn tone as she moved away from the wall towards Dagon instead. No sense in arguing with a disembodied smug voice. Maybe she could help a friend, who seemed so... lost right now. What horror had he gone through during the war?

i am your only friend.

Ryv | Romi Jade | Aelys | Dagon Kaze | Kyra Perl | Vexander Graves | Aaran Tafo | Viers Connory | Julius Sedaire | Rose Ann Lovely | Cotan Sar'andor | Jerek Morrows | Lucien Dooku | Viera

 

[Tom Kovack]

At some point during the first few minutes of the meeting, Tom Kovack had arrived carrying a lawn chair and an iced tea. He opened the chair with a satisfying snap, set it up against a wall, and sat down, watching the events unfold in comfort. He nodded along in agreement with Cotan Sar'andor when the Jedi Knight asked them why they didn't have chairs and drinks, but otherwise remained silent, content to observe unnoticed as the memories were transferred from Romi Jade to Ryv and Aaran Tafo , and Kyra Perl sucker punched the Sword of the Jedi.

As far as what he thought, having followed along with this whole developing story almost from the very beginning, it was all becoming a bit soap opera-y. He wished more people were willing to call in ahead of time, y'know, "I wanna talk to you about this thing, let's meet up and have a conversation and then announce it to everyone else" rather than barging in unannounced every time a crisis occurred. If they didn't want stuff like this to happen, that's the solution he would recommend. But given how masochistic Ryv seemed to be (Seriously. "Beat me. Hate me. Condemn me. Torture me. Imprison me." All that was missing was a final whisper of "Harder, please.") he didn't think they wanted to stop it. Everyone was so hot-headed and excitable, determined to wring this drama dry. Ultimately, though, it detracted from the real tragedy of Thalia, Quill, and the children who had died in ways that could have easily been prevented with a little coma gas and blasters set to stun.

Well, he just wanted to prove that he was, in fact, here. In his lawn chair. With his iced tea.

Viera | Aelys | Dagon Kaze | Kyra Perl | Vexander Graves | Viers Connory | Julius Sedaire | Rose Ann Lovely | Jerek Morrows | Lucien Dooku​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Dagon watched the heated altercation between Ryv and Kyra unfold before him vexed; unable to comprehend the girl's anger. From what he understood, Ryv and the rest of the New Jedi had arrived first to make amends for Thalia, then the Sith memories shared with the Sword had brought up other issues on the surface. And the New Jedi had sought help. He had sought help, before it had all spiraled to the young girl decking Ryv and culminating with his unexpected embrace and her subsequent hurried exit.

In his self-imposed exile Dagon, critiques of their actions on Korriban and Ziost had reached his ears. Warmongers, belligerents, murderers. These epithets added further weight on the cross they bore. A cross the Sword had carried longer than most of the New Jedi. He could not do it alone, they could not do it alone. The padawan recalled his brother's words on the Jedi - weak, prone to discord. He did not believe him then, he would not believe him now.

He refused to.

"Dee, you want some tea?"

"Huh?" he blinked, snapping out of his thoughts and looked at Violet. When had she arrived? It was good to see another face he knew. A friend. For a fleeting moment he wondered where Kaska was. A lot had happened ever since the Waveform Team had been on Manaan. It felt a lifetime ago. "Tea, sure. Yeah, might as well. Thanks. Probably a good idea to actually go and sit, too." he echoed Master Sar'andor's sentiment.

The tall Jedi stepped forward to address the group, this time his voice was steeled, if not slightly commanding.

"Let's get inside and sit. Tea and all that." he jerked his head towards the interior of the enclave, his eyes shifting between each of the Jedi, then to Romi and Ryv, "We--we...we need you." Dagon swallowed, anguish crawling back into his throat, "To find a way."

He would follow them further inside should their host allow them to.

Romi Jade | Ryv | Aaran Tafo | Aelys | Violet Horne | Viera | Rose Ann Lovely | Tom Kovack | Julius Sedaire | Cotan Sar'andor | Vexander Graves | @okothers??

 

[Westenra Mina]

Wearing: Jedi Guardian Catsuit

Armed with: Blood Sister

Current Configuration: Melissa, Meleena, and Melinda Io (See bio for details)

Came to Jakku in: Hematologist (Solo 2 Combat Freighter)


007 days prior...


Melissa thought of the Triumvirate as an insult, a slap in the very face of Democracy. She would never call a stormtrooper a true ally. Her mother had hated Stormtroopers ever since ones by the First Order had occupied Atrisia, and had passed this hatred down to her children.

But The GA insisted, and their Sister Laertia forbade acting out. But it was getting to be a request that was harder and harder to obey. All of the Io Sisters despised Stormtroopers and Imperials in general. Melissa was simply not as good at hiding it as her other two Sisters.

The three fought Sith-Imperials with GA and NIO troops fighting side by side, their red aura, pink bladed Lightsabers flashing through Sith Stormtroopers and actual Sith. It had been a joint strike on a hidden Imperial Base on an Asteroid at the edge of The System close to Felucia, preparing to bombard the planet with deadly chemical weapons. The Io Sisters had been volunteered by the SJC to go aid the assault. And aid they had given, spearheading the assault in matching blue catsuits, the Sisters viciously hacked into any firing at them.

Melissa, leader of the Io Sisters was particularly incensed about having to fight alongside Imperial Knights, who she considered no better than most Sith for simply being Imperial. If she could have gotten away with it, she would have snuck in a kill or two on one of them also. Alas, the need to keep up appearances. Only Melissa's love for Laertia kept her from defying that order. She made full use of her combat databases, having been in this form so long she considered it her primary appearance. Meleena, coded to act and look like the Older Adopted Sister to Laertia (Despite not 'actually' being an Older Sister) was the fastest of them, her statuesque body a blur as she cut down a Sith sbout to finish off an NIO Stormtrooper. Melinda, coded to act and look the youngest of the three blonde women, cared little for the Blade, instead using the reserves of Psychic Energy in her body to roast alive a Sith Knight with a gout of flame conjured from her hands, then immediately froze an enemy Trooper solid by grabbing and holding onto him.

One Copy of Westenra was lethal in any given situation. Three? All currently programmed to mimic Jedi Powers and fighting, while faking the aura of a Lightsider with the Psychic Energy in their bodies? They were a mobile Slaughterhouse.

Gradually, a confident defense by Sith Imperials gradually became demoralized as the Io Sisters rampaged ahead of the troops. Even some of the Imperial Knights, no strangers to brutality in the name of enforcing the will of The Iron Sun, were taken aback as they bore witness to the flashing whirlwind of butchered flesh and severed limbs the Sisters produced...

It took about twenty one minutes before the rampage against The Sith was complete. They had killed a massive chunk on behalf of GA and Imperial troops, but that didn't mean the troops hadn't utterly massacred the defenders.

It had been a great victory. The Sisters were seperate from the other troops, even the ones they led. They looked like beautiful, gorgeous blonde women, but something was off in the way they moved, in how savagely they dismembered their foes. The faint but noticeable purple glint at the center of each of their pink-irised eyes.

Each of them had been content to be left alone. Despite denouncing Laertia openly and forcefully, many didn't trust them still, as Melissa especially made no secret of her contempt for the GA's Imperial Allies, which many Jedi felt went against the spirit of what they were attempting to achieve with the NIO to fight the Sith. Melissa hadn't broken the rules. But she wasn't making any friends in the GA or the NIO with her extremely unpopular and vocal contempt of the NIO and everything they stood for.

As they strode through the burned and shot up covert military base, looking for information, technology that might be useful to them, an Imperial Knight, a master by the looks of it, strode to them in his red and black armor, making the mistake of trying to congratulate the trio.

"You are to be commended for your efforts, noble Jedi. This success here is a great victory for both sides. Felucia is protected once more, and your action prevented the loss of a great many allied troops on both sides. I...am aware you think little of the NIO, but your bravery and professionalism is nonetheless an asset--" he stated to the three as they hacked a computer.

Without looking up at him, Melissa said her words with ice cold bluntness:

"You have your victory. Revel in it...but away from us...we are not your friends. We are 'never' your friends, Imperial." Melissa replied irritably.

"You will never understand what The NIO fights for! You could care less if cooperation benefits everyone ultimately when it comes to finally defeating The Sith! We have a chance to finally end their tyranny once and for all! And you're turning your nose up at it because it means sharing the victory with those willing to do whatever it takes!" The Knight protested, outraged at her incredibly callous response.

"The moment the tyrants you want gone are buried, you'll turn that fanaticism on the GA and become tyrants yourselves. Because you're Imperial, and by default an Imperial is expansionist. This Galaxy will never truly be big enough for us to co-exist..." Melissa replied contemptuously.

The Imperial Knight sighed. "I'm sorry you feel that way. Because a lot of my warriors owe you their lives..."

"I'm sorry you feel that way..." Melissa replied coldly without looking as she penetrated the computer security.

The Imperial Knight sighed and walked away...

"Is the fool gone?" Melissa asked.

"Melissa, you seem bent on burning any bridges with them, even when they try and build one to you. Are you sure that's wise?" The strawberry blonde Melinda asked innocently.

"No bread..." Melissa repeated, unlocking classified files so the GA techs wouldn't have to...

"...is to be broken with Imperial Scum..."

Present Day...

(Io Sisters Theme Song Power Up)

(Theme: "Super 16" by Neu!)

After that operation, which was successful, they had decided to take advantage of their GA Connections and stay at the Jakku Enclave for a little while, hearing it was some kind of resting place for various groups of Jedi.

Melissa was not entirely happy with the temporary stay, but her Sisters had insisted they take a break. Melissa's aggression had increased by a measurable forty percent over the last few weeks since the guilt and stress she suffered over denouncing her beloved Sister boiled over. The quiet of a vast desert might calm her rage at the situation with the NIO.

They had journeyed in Meleena's Freighter, The Hematologist, and had landed the Freighter in the center of a natural ring of large rocks, close to the Enclave. Long term cosplaying as Jedi meant having to cosplay Jedi habits also.

If a given Copy of Westenra could be said to be a master at anything, it was Cosplay.

The three blonde bombshells, each silent for different reasons, said very little as they approached the Enclave, their Psychic Auras so far fooling every Jedi that came across them that they were Light Side Force Adepts...though they were nonetheless unsettled by their liquid, efficient but unusually precise movements and creepy eyes. Melissa spotted an argument occuring. Despite wanting to simply meditate in spare quarters (Despite deriving nothing from it...) she couldn't help but investigate.

Distaste flowed through her as she spotted Ryv , followed by mild satisfaction as Kyra Perl broke his nose. That Zealot had probably killed more Jedi than Laertia had with his fanatical mindset. They considered any Jedi willingly serving Imperialists as traitors to their own creed. At least the Io Sisters were sticking to the letter of this devils bargain...they didn't sabotage operations between the two. They attacked no NIO or NJO, not even to spite-feed.

The three Io sisters watched from a slight distance from the others, the faint purple glint at the center of their eyes somehow still visible in the brightness as they watched Ryv try and defend his actions. But Kyra didn't want to hear it, it seemed. Melissa had the distinct feeling Kyra would have still punched Karis's lights the feth out, drugs or no drugs.

Melissa derived grim entertainment from this and directed her sisters to stand near, but not very close to Tom Kovack , who amused all three deeply by having a lawnchair to watch this from. It was the sort of trolling their designer loved...

He even had Ice Tea! All three filed away examples of his physical comedy to emulate later...

The Sisters watched, scanning every face. Nuetral Grounds made for thick tension. The Io Sisters were GA and SJC, and had joined this enclave through contacts in both. Melissa said nothing. They had gotten funny looks since they spearheaded that High Speed Raid in The Felucia System. None of the Io Sisters were sure whether to be pleased or depressed by this.

They were each beginning to collectively despise this 'professionalism'...

...and the hotheads getting their own killed were the only ones benefitting...

Melinda was the one who spoke, her tone wasn't malice, but absolute confusion. Genuine confusion.

"I do not understand why you are allowed to remain Sword of the Jedi. I know I will never hold that title, but I do not understand why you are allowed to. Dantooine, Korriban, and Ziost were horrific tragedies. Under your leadership..." she said clinically without any emotion other than academic confusion. "Any other leader in a similar situation would have either been forcibly retired, fired, or imprisoned..."

Julius Sedaire

Romi Jade

Rose Ann Lovely

Viera

Dagon Kaze

Vexander Graves

Aelys

Jerek Morrows

Lucien Dooku