The Courage or the Fall (Open to Galactic Alliance)

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He'd be lying if the lost in trust didn't hurt, didn't sting knowing that he had lost something never had. Even as she spoke of having no choice, he shook his head. He didn't want her to feel forced into this, far from it. He looked towards Ijaat, the sword dropped into the subsurface, and felt the sting again of crimes he couldn't take back. "No..." He whispered, looking back towards Coren and then Chevu. "You can't trust me. I've done nothing to deserve that." He looked towards the biodome and winced. "You can't change that right now, no matter how much utility I may have." Feeling the warmth of a sun, permeating through the glass and into the facility, piercing through the harsh environment, he closed his eyes and shuttered against the flare. It had been so long since he had taken the time to appreciate the beauty around him and before him. His time on Taris was the first in a long night of darkness and dilapidation of the senses.

"I want to help you, I will help you. So long as I have the breath you given me..." He paused, chewing on his bottom lip, as he looked back to Chevu. He had wounded her, another in the long list, Ijaat stamped firmly in the annals of his past. "But I can't ask for your trust in return, not yet." In truth, it was hope that spurred any indication that such situations might change. But even then, the sorrow and agony of the situation was reflected in the honey brown eyes looking out from his sharp features. And it was all Chevu, for the time, until he turned his attention back to Coren. "Don't trust me. My knowledge, my experience with our common foes, that comes without cost." He paused, recalling the other condition.

"As for verifying my story, you may ask whatever you'd like. I wont lie to you." To Coren, to Ijaat, to the Galactic Alliance. But more importantly, to Chevu.

[member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Ijaat Akun"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Ijaat seemed to come out of a deep revere, and the first movement was to tilt his head to the side and stare at Gabriel almost quizzically. His flesh was tanned from a hundred or more suns, pale scars criss-corssing it like topographical marks on a map. Some were jagged, some chunks of flesh never to be replaced. Others were precise, intentional marks with all the indications of being done by a surgeons hand. Some of them were recent, and shone almost ghost-white, the skin barely knitted together. Others were old, almost greyed or tanned, and barely remembered. Oddly enough, due to his penchant for wearing long sleeves, it was evident Ijaat's entire torso was covered in tattoos of various designs and meanings, some almost cult-marking like, others from cultures as varied as Atrisia, Adumar, and more. Hallmarks of his apprenticeship in the sword throughout the galaxy.

As his study was done, he stepped forward , some sort of life and spark coming back into his eyes. Rapidly his mind was clearing, focusing and processing, and he realized he had to know. If what Gabriel said was true, and the Wrath was his father. Did he share blood with this man? Was this here the family that was ripped from him by whatever tragedy so long ago? If this man before him were his uncle, would he not owe it to defend him, to redeem him if possible? And if not, he would owe the Alliance, the Galaxy, and this man, the mercy of his blade as a final peace. And so his arm came up, turning palm up, towards Coren, as if waiting for something to be done.

"Take it... Blood sample, I mean... If he's related to me, blood from us both will bear similar genetic markers. But if Reverance is my father, and he my uncle, there will be variance. Any geneticist can determine the veracity of his statement by that alone. If he lies, I will kill him. If he tells the truth? I may still kill him anyway, i've not decided yet."

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="The Revenant"] | [member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Deliberation. That was not something Coren was good at, no sir. He was a pilot. He was a military commander. He needed to be in the field, showing people how to fight, sowing confusion and malcontent among his foes. When that same mission statement brought him home? That was hard to deal with. What he wanted was to make sure that Chevu, his apprentice, and possibly the most important of the other three in the room, to him, was fine.

To verify the story? He could toss this man to the Jedi, but they’d probably call the former Sith in the Republic and see what they thought, saw and felt. That wasn’t going to work for Starchaser. He demanded efficiency and for things to flow smoothly. Still, the way Chevu was feeling, he couldn’t help but feel bad. “There is always a choice, Chevu.” The alternative here?

Lava bath.

But then the man was speaking. Certain tones couldn’t be faked, aside from the best conmen. Coren, while no longer a con, did have a small history running guns and the like. Part of that? Making people believe your side. Still, he looked at Ijaat and nodded. “If that works for both of you?” He tapped a few keystrokes on his wrist-top omnitool datapad to call in a medical droid.

“Let’s get this straight then. Until a point where his story is not passed, he’s under protection. On the field of battle? You’ll be under surveillance.” He said, turning to Gabriel. “I can’t promise what the Jedi will do, but in the Gee-Daf? We don’t leave an asset off the table. And we sure as hell need assistance when it comes to these frakking Sith.”

First time he’d admit he couldn’t solo the whole group. Jedi had been fighting the Sith for millennia. Maybe it was time for another approach.

[member="Ijaat Akun"]
[member="Chevu Visz"]
[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

The nights after they'd met, Chevu had stared up at the vast spray of Sullustan stars, and wished upon as many as she could, imploring whatever gods she could summon to guard him so that he might land safety in their sector. Seeing his brown eyes full of penance, snapped the strings of her heart, like the tendons of a worn musical instrument, badly stored and left underplayed. She opened her mouth to say something, but clapped it shut when she saw the look in Coren's eyes. It was the same look that flashed across his face when [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] suggested that they question a rogue Sith instead of tossing him into a lava forge. Coren wouldn't hesitate to drop Gabriel into an active volcano and sleep like a baby afterward.

A few precautions were suggested, like taking DNA samples and having Gabriel under a strict watch; both hypotheticals she nodded affirmatively for. However, when Ijaat mentioned killing Gabriel for reasons she was still trying to puzzle out, the Knight could not stay silent anymore.

"No!" the Mirialan interjected forcefully, turning to give the soldier sharp, disapproving look. "We do not kill this man. If his story is true..." Here, her brown eyes moved to Gabriel, her expression edged with empathy. "...then there must be redemption for him. We should not punish the spirit of a decent man for the transgressions of his brother. Gabriel is a victim of the Wrath of the Dark Lord, as were the countless who perished under the monster's rule."

She had no official authority over the GADF and even less over Coren, but she was a Jedi Marshall, and in the absence of any other Marshalls, represented the NJO in this discussion. This marked the first time that she felt she confidently filled her role, and it was strange to be so decisively insistent, but she was sure that this was the right course of action.

[member="Ijaat Akun"] [member="The Revenant"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Where the word 'Sith' was bandied about, Sarge was prone to follow. Gone were his crusades to kill all, because in the end, he'd been attempting the possible. One does not kill an idea - sure, you weaken the believers, kill them, but in the end the idea would win, so long as one soul carried its flame. Ideas had to fade on their own. When forced, they changed from coal to diamond, shrinking and hardening.

The kernel of hatred got him nowhere. And while it got the Sith worlds, it would not win them eternity. History had taught him that much.

Word had come through the headquarters of an altercation, and Sarge was ever a security minded individual. He'd made all due haste until someone had told him it was under control. That didn't mean he was staying away, though.

The heavily armored individual came into the room and took up a post nearby, hand resting on the saber at his hip as a precaution though he made no actual attempt to draw or brandish it. He understood why things were under control, though, when he came through to lay eyes upon Coren, Ijaat and Chevu. His presence was superfluous, but it mattered little for the future of the individual whose fate still lay in question.

He'd get a sitrep soon enough.

[member="Ijaat Akun"] [member="The Revenant"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He didn't respond to words spoken by Chevu, though he internalized them with an expression that seemed locked with hers. He couldn't grasp an agreement, the sort of blame he put on himself couldn't be washed away for the idea of being another victim. Reverance had enough of those, but what good did that do for those he had hurt. Just the similar microexpression of a smile, enough to show his appreciation and acknowledgement of the strength shown by the Mirialan, reflected from the mans face.

He lowered his head, his hands coming together in steeple form. Truthfully, he might have preferred the black and white approach of being prosecuted before a court, being forced to publicly accept the consequences of his actions. But in the end, it wasn't about his preference. It's about what goodness he could do moving forward. What actions he could take before leaving this life. Whenever that day came, he would welcome it as a man freed from the oppression of a parasitic twin. To die in dignity and grace, that was a hope among the others.

"The original body was a chimera." He paused, turning to look at Ijaat. "What that means is that the body held the DNA of both brothers, myself and Reverance. The likes of which transpired across to the clone." He paused again, squinting at his son. "Biologically speaking, you are either my son or my nephew. But spiritually, I am the tremble that lowered the fist, the pause in the hand that stopped the blade. I am the blind eye that turned as you fled. Momentary relapses in control...a prisoner rattling his shackles against the bars." Was that to provide some comfort? Perhaps not. But for all the pain that Ijaat had endured, there was a love there that Gabriel had always bore him. An affection that couldn't be overcome by the corrupting and sinister acts of a mad man, nor the angry words spoken by a rightfully angry husband. "I cannot claim to be your father, despite our biological ties. But I will always endeavor to correct my actions. You killing me...will be the only action that can prevent that." He tilted his head, searching the man for understanding. He was trained Mandalorian, lived the life and knew the importance of family more than most.

"I will concede to your genetic tests, if that will help..." He held out his forearm, pulling back the robe, and turning his attention back to Coren and Chevu. It showed the same muscular build that Ijaat had to contend with at Yegadon, the same build that Chevu had known on that night on Taris. Scars and tattoos ran the length, from back of palm up throughout his body, roots spreading as indication of a mothers clan, put on to the clone in preparation for a full spirit transfer on the chance of death. For all intents and purposes, Gabriel was a spitting image of Reverance, minus the scar running over the right eye, plus the slight increase in physical muscle fiber. "I assume the Jedi Order will prosecute me for my crimes, as is their right and I suspect their responsibility. At the very least, I should be questioned. But I am thankful for your protection." Surveillance didn't bother him. He had been under surveillance his entire life, this would be no different.

Just as the droid moved to take the sample, Gabriel turned his head, just enough to see the man in the armor sitting on the outskirts of this extended confession. Having never met the man, they were graced with being philosophers of the same circle. Contending in a war, he had felt glancing blows from this figure. On Manaan, on Alderaan. He would have been a poor Wrath, indeed, to not know the identity of this man. But he wouldn't speak it, just simply return to his peaceful expression, as the droid would move to analyze and compare DNA with Ijaat.

[member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Ijaat Akun"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Chevu Visz]

As the droid began the DNA tests on Gabriel, Chevu warily eyed [member="Sarge Potteiger"], a newcomer to the group. Word must have been spreading around the biodome that there was a person of interest on the outpost. The former Lord Protector was present for extra muscle no doubt, and he'd been indispensable in helping take care of the last rogue Sith that paid them a visit at the Jedi temple. Still, as afraid as Chevu was, a part of her felt protective towards Gabriel, and frankly, she was responsible for him in a way. After all, it she'd been the bait who had lured him here, whether intentional or not.

However, Gabriel wasn't a rogue Sith, was he? Or was his story a pretense? Sith could use various techiniques from alchemy to sorcery to conceal their dark-sided auras. It was possible that they were all being played. Especially the green-skinned Jedi Marshall. Shame ate away at her. She had been so careless and foolish to let him onto her ship even. The room swam for a moment as another wave of nausea hit her. Placing one green-skinned hand on the wall to steady herself, she swallowed the feeling down. Wincing, she raised her gaze to Gabriel, her expression an odd mixture of pity and venom.

"Once these tests are done, you will be contained in a maximum security cell, until we have fully investigated your background," she stated plainly, speaking to him as a stranger would. Her heart screamed at her not to treat him this way, but she was gravely wounded by the lie of their night together. She was a Jedi Marshall first and foremost and, despite her feelings for the man, had to put the Alliance and the New Jedi Order first.

Soon the droids would administer the tests to Ijaat, and they would all have the results in a few mintues.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="The Revenant"] [member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

For the most part, Ijaat floundered between numb and blinding rage at what was happening. But years of training took over, allowing him to just simply shut down and silence his own self to keep going. There was truly nothing to say, and knowing his own mind he kept his hand far away from the blade rammed into the floor, not trusting himself enough to draw it forth, even to ostensibly sheath it. The words Gabriel said impacted him like pebbles, clattering against the facade he had set up.

There would be time enough to build bridges if that is what it came to, for now, he mutely held his arm out, wincing the tiniest bit as the droid pierced flesh to take its sample. Quickly, he shrugged as the droid pulled away, and narrowed his eyes, trying to summon the creature lurking beneath his skin, to no avail. Naked and alone outside of his armor, he turned and nodded briefly to Sarge, but ever was the corner spare of his glance on Gabriel. Finally, with bitten words, he replied to what was said to him.

"I am sure you are a fount of mercy.... Excuse me if I have reservations, I am sure you will understand though."

[member="Sarge Potteiger"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="The Revenant"] | [member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Work to be done, decisions to be made. Coren had no reason to keep a Sith alive. Rabid dogs, the whole lot of them, and he wouldn’t cry like most did when they read Old Yeller. He’d watch this one under strict guidelines and make sure it didn’t escape. Should they prove to not be a Sith, and be useful? Well, that would be another story all together. If they were going to kill the Sith, he’d give Ijaat the right chance and attempts to take him down.

He could feel the presence of Sarge approach as he listened to Chevu. A nod followed as she was defending this man. That was what he wanted to see. Some fight in her.

He looked back to Gabriel and nodded. “You were brought here, not claiming to be a Sith, not feeling the part either. And if Chevu is vouching for you? I’ll give you the time, the protection to have a full trial.” That was where he was different than the Jedi. When someone came in, disrupting functions and just being a straight up nerf herder of a Sith? Yeah, those could burn. "Ijaat. I'm going to need you to trust me here."

Ones that seemed… lost? Coren could bring them into the flock, put them forward as a war asset. Dark Jedi who hunted Sith would be okay by Coren, it was that damned religion that he couldn’t abide.

[member="The Revenant"]
[member="Sarge Potteiger"]
[member="Chevu Visz"]
[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"Your reservations are fully warranted..." He said, no longer looking at Ijaat. There was something that needed to be done for the bridge buildings. And seeing as it would take demolitions to carve proper path from the rubble that was their history, it would take some time to prepare. In full earnest with himself, he never expected anything different from Ijaat. How could he? Despite his words, Gabriel wore the face of the monster that had committed all the acts against Ijaat. Gabriel cultivated very little hope in the prosperity of that relationship.

Mulling over the words of Chevu and Coren, Gabriel was given a window into their perspective and protocol. Though he suspected things would be much different had he not impacted Chevu in some way. But the logic was circular as her impact was far more impressive and the very catalyst that led him to these hallow halls. "I came here of my own volition, my own accord, knowing full well how you and others would react. I hold no illusions towards my fate. I accept what I've earned." He said, tilting his head just a bit, looking towards Chevu. Despite what she might mask here, he sensed a pain in her and even more so, something else. He couldn't place his finger on it so instead, he held his hands in hand in front of him. The analysis would be over quickly, confirming his words. "It's the right decision...to detain me."

Lowering his head, he closed his eyes and waited for the sounds of the analysis droid to finish.

[member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Ijaat Akun"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge sniffed inside his helmet, studying the man before him. This was no Sith, because a Sith did not accept jailing as a just form of punishment. To them it was a means to an end, really. A halfway home between plans. Find the people you want to talk to, let them lock you up, escape while cackling. But this man... this man was different. Visor settled on [member="The Revenant"], Sarge shifted between [member="Chevu Visz"], who stood up to him... and the aggressive posture of [member="Ijaat Akun"].

There was history here.

Deep history.

But none of this, to Sarge, said 'don't trust me.' And perhaps that was the most perplexing part of it all. Sarge was a man built on gut feeling. His gut was telling him nothing was wrong here. "So who are we detaining, exactly?" He asks the group, and specifically [member="Coren Starchaser"].

"What manner of prisoner will be gracing my cells?" Not his, per se, but he may as well have taken ownership of them after the last Sith rolled through.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Coren was not really one in charge of the process and care of prisoners. For that, he’d defer to the wisdom that was [member="Sarge Potteiger"]. But at that moment, Coren was looking between those assembled, [member="Chevu Visz"], [member="The Revenant"] and [member="Ijaat Akun"]. They all had their say here, all said their piece. But still, the man in front of Coren wasn’t displaying the telltale signs of being a Sith. He wasn’t feeling it. And while the pilot had a lot of history chasing down those types of beings, he was known to have been fooled in the past.

Coren knew his own weak points, and they weren’t corrective lenses.

When the Armored Master stepped forward, Coren nodded, light armor himself, but still ready. “This one, this Gabriel. Swears he’s not the Wrath, but… he looks it. He doesn’t feel it, he doesn’t exude it.” Looking through the group, he nodded. “We’re waiting on a DNA test, there is history between the Wrath, and our own Ijaat here, it seems, as well as this being and my own apprentice.”

Another deep breath.

“What do you feel?” He was asking to Sarge, about the Force.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

[member="Coren Starchaser"]

Sarge turned his helmet between the two, one arm swaying lightly as he came to a stop. A rattle of armor was heard as everything settled, and he took a moment to answer. "I've never felt anything." He admits, giving a nod of his head as if confirming that was the truth. "But I can tell you what I see, and what my gut feels." A hand motions towards [member="The Revenant"], and Sarge's orange-tinged visor followed suit. "And what I see is a man bearing unfortunate resemblance."

Those broad shoulders shrugged, "I think he's being jailed because it fits the plan. Not his plan, mind. Yours. Ours. The last Sith wanted to be jailed because he saw it as a necessary inconvenience to get what he wanted. This S-," he catches himself, "person, wants to be jailed because it suits us. It makes us more comfortable. It fits our plans.

Sith don't care for our plans. Sith don't care for our regulations and procedure. He's already more conscientious than most folk that get stuffed in a cell.

That's what I see. My gut says he's alright."

 

[Chevu Visz]

"No!" Chevu interjected incredulously, her gaze flashing from Coren to Sarge. "It's too great a risk to take. What makes you all so sure that he's alright, as you say!?"

She glared at Gabriel, her expression stormy, fresh hurt bubbling up again. Chevu recalled how Gabriel, or this Reverance more likely, took pains to glamour his injured eye, to dress as a wanderer, and to pretend to be something he was not. The Sith Lord sought out one of the leaders of the very organization which sought to dismantle the structure of the One Sith and then seduced her, only to have her lead him straight to Sullust, their well-secreted home base. How could that be a coincidence?

"As this man is a Force user and I am one of the Jedi Marshalls, I am making a decision on behalf of the New Jedi Order to jail him until we can all be sure."

The young Mirialan crossed her arms over her chest, defiant after this rare display of decisive authority.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="The Revenant"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He stayed quiet during the discussion, oddly removed from his own fate. Coren displayed an uncertainty, the man in the armor show an abundance of confidence, and Chevu showed that fire she spoke about. He couldn't help it, just the smallest infraction, the trace of smile. Not that he wanted to be imprisoned, far from it. But in her rise to her own position, he felt an odd sense of pride. Odd indeed, given where he currently stood in the mix. "Chevu..." He said quietly. "...is right. You can't be certain of where I stand. Until minds agree, it's better for everyone if I call one of the cells, home."

Looking towards the droid, Gabriel pushed his sleeve back down and heard the death throes of analysis. He looked towards Coren, the Commander and Captain, and waited for him to read over the analysis. He knew what it would say, well, to the a certain degree. Truthfully, he was drained and feeling a bit under. He needed rest and if he was right about his inclination, so did Chevu. "So...how do I fare, in these results?"

[member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Ijaat Akun"] | [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Ijaat merely shrugged, and shook his head quietly. This is where he got off the train, really. These were matters beyond what he was, if titles and Orders were thrown around. And if Sarge was involved, then he was pretty well outclassed and superfluous in terms of muscle and might. The immediate threat was gone, contained, or delayed, however you wished to say. His mind swam a bit as he urged the ooglith into life, and the little mag-plates on each plate of armor rattled and clanked back up onto his torso. As the last piece snapped back onto his wear, he clipped his helmet on, the eyes lighting as systems came online. What did he say here, really? What was there to say? The Jedi would take him and debate in their endless circles, the higher-ups would chatter and the decision would be made. No rank, no history outside his own people. A very small fish in a very big pond in a very big way. And if he were honest, he wasn't really sure what he thought should be done anyway.

So he fixed Coren with a look from his visor as he crossed his arms and rested his hands on the pommel of his blade, and shrugged with a rattle of armor. His official opinion was fairly clear: You're the boss, I just pull the trigger.

[member="Sarge Potteiger"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="The Revenant"] | [member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

There were enough bits of armor here, sure, Coren couldn’t really count himself, STR and CON were his character sheet’s weaknesses. Sarge and Ijaat had that covered though. Putting Gabriel in detention, now that was how Coren handled confirmed Sith, but this man, it was confusing. He had a connection to his own apprentice which, sadly, weighed on Coren’s mind. “I’m not saying he’s alright. But if he has knowledge of the Sith, and his aura isn’t… dark… we can throw him into war against the Sith, maybe he’ll think of something we haven’t.” A weakness to exploit.

A thermal exhaust port in the faction, as it were.

“If we can find a way to control him…” Explosive collars? “Maybe he can prove his worth, prove his true allegiance.” Coren was all for safety and precaution. The Jedi took prisoners, he controlled war assets.

The blood test was being analyzed and he was awaiting the results as he looked between the gathered. The next bit of information to cross his datapad was just that, the genetic testing. Ninety-nine percent? That could only mean one thing.

“Ijaat, what were you expecting to find in this, again?”

Mainly so everyone could hear.

[member="Ijaat Akun"]
[member="The Revenant"]
[member="Chevu Visz"]
[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge gave a genial smile behind his visor, looking to the assembled. "I never said he shouldn't be put in a cell." He reminds. "Merely that I don't see him as an immediate threat."