Faction The Hirata Reformation | Lightsworn

[Inosuke Ashina]

THE HIRATA REFORMATION
Prequels:
Three Letters | A Monument To Your Sins | Three Virtues

Reclamation, and a stance to weed out the Sith proactively, rather than to observe from the comfort of high council chambers. These principles Bernard could follow.

His eyes rested a moment on the son of the late Sword of the Jedi. His presence among the Jedi at the estate spoke a more convincing argument for the Lord than the numbers he proclaimed.

"I will aid you in moulding what yet stands unfinished, Inosuke. Tell me, do you have paper and ink?"

A minuscule smirk broke the signature Ashina stolidness. Inosuke turned to Kyric, "Issue the call."

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| Hirata Estate, Ashina Outskirts, Atrisia, Commonwealth Sector |
| Evening, Present Time |
​

<"Jedi, the fight for Tython will begin with or without ye, so come to Hirata and make the difference."> So sounded the call over myriad frequencies across the Galaxy, an outer-rim drawl beckoning a congregation to the Core. Coordinates to the Hirata Estate were enclosed within, encrypted in traces of metadata that echoed through every rebroadcast. Kyric kept the transmission brief on his master's behalf, sharing a mutual understanding that those who had waited for it would come, and those who needed to hear it wouldn't require a speech.

Accord-class cruisers gathered in a loose formation in clouds over Ashina, courtesy of Ishida Ashina 's Companions. Meanwhile, the Hirata Estate's inner courtyard bustled with Jedi and other lightbound warriors from across the galaxy. A militia of sympathetic non-sensitives vigilantly guarded the estate's premier, aided shuttle landings, and ushered others through the estate toward the meeting place. Displaced by the machinations of the Dark Side, these former denizens of places like Empress Teta, Tython, and Coruscant, had heeded the call just as the Jedi had. For now, they were mere aids to order, but soon for the sake of their homes, they would know crusade alongside their force-wielding allies.

A thin layer of white from the morning snowfall lingered around the estate. In the central courtyard, it mixed with the soil beneath the feet of Jedi in multitudes, mashed by their arrival into a cool mire. Muck and cold were their accommodations, a far cry from the grand vestibules and meeting halls of the Jedi Temple. This antithesis of comfort and splendor was the first of many statements of the reformation that was at hand. A vexing wind rolled over the gathering, teasing them of the hardships to come. No Jedi would be cosseted while their sacred places lay in the hands of the Sith. Beneath it all, a new fire of hope flickered. An assurance that those who endured the tribulations and discomforts of a nascent new order would reap the rewards as Lords of the Jedi.

"I sense great conviction among this congregation," Inosuke imparted to his collaborators just out of sight of those in the courtyard. "Yet, dubiety I detect likewise." Turning away from peering at the crowd, he strode deeper into the chamber at the courtyard's northern head. There, Bernard waited along with Inosuke's wife and sister for the time they'd address their would-be allies. Apprentices dwelled among them as well. "This is the turning point," the Lord of Hirata observed stolidly. "We must invigorate the faithful and rally the irresolute. Our words should be crafted carefully." Inosuke's following pivot back towards the chamber's exit to the courtyard was signal enough for the rest to follow.

Just before they crossed the threshold, Inosuke placed a hand on his Padawan's shoulder. "Many of them knew your Father," he said, offering Kyric a gentle reminder of the stakes. Ryv 's presence was clear in spirit. There was mutual awareness between the Masters, wordlessly acknowledging one another in the Force. "They remember his sacrifice, his leadership. You are his only representative among the living." Sensing the young man's wonder at events before him, Inosuke again peered toward the crowd. No sign of the old Sword, keeping his essence hidden amongst the gathering. Insouke's attention returned to Kyric. "Search your feelings. Say what you must. When you do, do not forget my teachings; no hesitation."

Elevated less than a foot off the muck by a wooden stage, five Jedi appeared before the convocation of their peers from across the known galaxy. There was no formal greeting, and no phrase of gratitude offered for their arrival. Instead, the Lord of Hirata Estate began with the most pertinent and apparent of their shared greivances:

"The New Jedi Order has been unable, or perhaps unwilling to liberate our spiritual birthplace from the likes of our ancient enemies. This is not only disgraceful, but the inaction of the Council is likewise inadmissable. You are all here because you have heard the call, because you share a conviction to protect and liberate our holy and sacred places." His commanding gaze washed over the crowd in pause, taking stock of their outwards reactions. "Because you know the Dark Side has been allowed to fester and thrive for too long. The time has come for reformation. No longer will the Jedi be unwilling to do what must be done. No longer will we suffer the malice and tyranny of the Sith or any other adherents of the dark while our brethren in the core sit stagnant on their thrones seeking leisure and false doctrines."

"This congregation must conceive a New Order if we are to purge this galaxy of darkness and retake that which belongs to us." Inosuke looked to his foremost collaborator. "Bernard?" he gestured for the Arkanian to take point and speak of the inevitable reformation to be founded on this very spot. ​

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Bernard | Henna Ashina | Ishida Ashina | Kyric
Kaleleon | Tyrus Vastor | Shinzou Ashina | Heinrich Faust | Sol Dara | Rik Perris
Thelar Grayson | Ikon | Sera Rosh | Fallon Draellix-Kobitana | Castian Vero
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[THE LIGHTSWORN]​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Eloise did not expect to see Starlin Rand here. He looked older, sporting a gray-streaked beard and a worn, tired expression. At first he didn't notice her, intent as he was on reaching the throng gathered in the snowy courtyard, but eventually he picked up on her presence, paused and turned to face her, blue eyes wide.

She stood very still, glaring back at him. This was the man who she had come to for help when she ran away from home, operating on the stories she had been hearing all her life about what an amazing friend he was. She’d hoped he would train her, but instead he sent her to the NJO—an Order full of whiny brats and stuck-up pricks sucking up to a single powerful family. When she tried to reach him, he wouldn’t answer her calls.

Still stinging with rejection, she found some relief with the Vonnuvi Enclave… but then they gave the NJO shelter from the Sith targeting Coruscant, and her sanctuary was invaded.

So of course she had come at the Lightsworn's beckoning, drawn in by the promise of a new and better Order. He wouldn't be so surprised if he hadn’t severed all contact between them after he sent her away. He never did give an explanation.

Confusion played across Starlin's features, before he quickly turned away. She continued to stare at his back. She knew why she was here, but what was he doing?

 

[Starlin Rand]

Starlin did not expect to see Eloise Dinn here. His gaze lingered on her hair, which was now colored purple. It had been its natural red the last time they met. Perhaps she had dyed it to avoid being recognized, or maybe it was just a symbol of change. Either way, it made her easy to pick out in the crowd.

She didn't look happy to see him, which he supposed made sense under the circumstances. Did her master know she was here? He couldn't imagine she was sent as a spy. She'd never agree to it. No, she must have answered the summons willingly—which meant she had bought into the Lightsworn's doctrine, or at least was curious enough about it to attend a meeting.

Well, she was young. She hadn't lived through what he had, didn't know what he knew about these men and women proclaiming the creation of a new Order.

He recognized most of them, though time had certainly aged their faces. Inosuke Ashina he had heard of but never properly met; the man gave a speech, then called Bernard of Arca forward. Starlin shut his eyes. Already he was itching to speak up. But if the tumultuous era of his youth had taught him anything, it was to make sure you heard people out before you opened your mouth.

So he waited with bated breath for what the (former?) child killer had to say.

 

[Tyrus Vastor]

Tyrus stood at the edge of the gathering, his tall frame and dark skin casting a striking silhouette against the lighting of the Estate. Clad in black leather armor, adorned with intricate silver buckles and a long, flowing coat that billowed with each step, he cut an imposing figure. His attire was functional, designed for combat, but it also exuded a style that made him stand out among the others. Strapped to his back was a sheathed vibroblade, a weapon of personal significance, its hilt ornately carved with symbols of his people and a title. Lor Pelek. The air was thick with anticipation, he felt a strange sense of displacement. He was here to answer the call to crusade against the Dark Empire and the Dark Side itself, but the sight of so many Jedi in one place—Masters, Knights, and Padawans alike—gave him pause. Im out of my element.

Tyrus respected the reformation's aims, the desire to fight back against the encroaching darkness, but the presence of so many young faces filled him with unease. This was a man's war, and the reality of it will be brutal and unforgiving. The idealism in the eyes of the younger Jedi reminded him of a past he could never escape, of the perpetual summer wars on Haruun Kal. His home. Growing up on Haruun Kal, war was a part of life. The Korunnai fought the Balawai every year, a cycle of violence as relentless as the seasons. Korunnai killing Korunnai, locked in a struggle for dominance that seemed as natural as the jungle itself. Tyrus understood the reasons behind the bloodshed, the ancient grudges and survival instincts that fueled it. It was a harsh existence, but it was the only one he knew. Just as Pelekotan wills it.

As he observed more he couldn't help but compare this new struggle to the battles of his youth. The fervor, the determination—it was all too familiar. Yet, here, it felt different. There was a purpose beyond mere survival, a cause that sought to restore balance and justice. Still, doubt gnawed at him. Could this new Jedi Order truly make a difference, or would it be torn apart by the very forces it sought to vanquish?

Just before they crossed the threshold, Inosuke placed a hand on his Padawan's shoulder. "Many of them knew your Father," he said, offering Kyric a gentle reminder of the stakes. Kyrics's presence was clear in spirit. There was mutual awareness between the Masters, wordlessly acknowledging one another in the Force. "They remember his sacrifice, his leadership. You are his only representative among the living." Sensing the young man's wonder at events before him, Inosuke again peered toward the crowd. No sign of the old Sword, keeping his essence hidden amongst the gathering. Insouke's attention returned to Kyric. "Search your feelings. Say what you must. When you do, do not forget my teachings; no hesitation."

Ryv.

It made some sense now to the Korun. Kyric's strange mass web. The shatterpoint he saw back on Coruscant. Shifting his weight side to side, Tyrus shook his head to himself and felt his jaw grow stern. Ryv was a great Jedi. Hell, I still remember the ghost tales the Sith told about him. Ryv understood conflict and war. But Dôshalo Kyric? Extending his mind out and bridging it with Kyric own. Tyrus asked a single private and raw question telepathically.

<<" Dôshalo Kyric, What do you remember of your father?">>

 

[Kaleleon]

Starlin Rand Tyrus Vastor Eloise Dinn Inosuke Ashina Bernard

They said his name to me.

It was a calling from another world when they had came to speak with me on my home. Not that it was difficult to find where I was at the time. I spoke about it often with other Jedi. Where I had come from. My heritage. How my life as a Farmer is what I honestly only wanted. Yet, every time I was asked, I answered the call. It was not just because of his name, but who it was tied to. It had been a while since I could remember hearing that name uttered. Even more so, knowing that his son was still around.

Now, after the opened letters, and outright calling of individuals who were to be hunted by these Lightsworn, These individuals who had came to speak to me privately before all of this happened, I knew they did so not to play. Not to just have a reunion of people from the past. It was because they wanted someone who knew the stakes. Knew what was going to happen. Knew that every decision one would make, could cost them everything. Even now, it costed me to come here. For so long I had been working on furthering my goals within the Galactic Alliance and the New Jedi Order. I wanted to atone for those possible sins I had been condemned to.

Yet those who seek me, wished to have use of those sins. I had fought once. Even outright telling the council I would fight again. I at the very least, had to hear them out to their entirety. Make a decision on my own. Follow my own path if necessary. Was it worth such? Breathing in deeply, I stood as the others did. Watching as Ashina spoke quickly of how the Galactic Alliance failed to hold the planet of Tython. They wanted the Jedi to fight back. Their reluctance to do so, according to the man, was the reasoning for all of this. To bring about a new order in which would be the perpetrators brought to justice for taking Tython, and turning it into a corrupted Nexus.

They wanted answers now. No waiting for a council. No waiting for a timeline or a game plan. They wanted those responsible held accountable. More over, the Jedi who fell to the dark side.

It.. was difficult for me. I had my doubts. My exile. My straying from the light after Csilla. Unable to deal with the defeat, the loss. Let alone, feeling like I was inadequate to fight against the Maw, only for... all of them. All of my friends, and allies die. So many of them perished. Even Bernard came forth. Was the possibility of forsaking the order again, worth this? Would I have to do it again? And if so, would I do it again? I said I would with the actions I made in the past. I knew what the consequences were. I had learned from them. But now? Are they the right path?

I wanted to learn, understand what these people wanted. What these kindred brothers and sisters of the Jedi wanted from the Galactic Alliance. With my ties to the Alliance, maybe, just maybe instead of a complete fracturing, I could mend what little there was left. Maybe there was a chance that the New Jedi Order would spring into action by being called out. Were the New Jedi just biding their time, and striking with advantage, or had they grown soft in the years of peace. The Years of time in which many Jedi who I knew, were now moving on to other stages of life, while I had been left behind.

The Last Jedi of my generation.

Stuck in a war when there were no wars. I stayed silent. Listening, watching. Taking all the information I could about this. Was it worth it to rush in again? this time, against the Empire reformed under the man who had brought back to life, after a man I cared for, died to make sure he had stayed dead. Would I let this time slip away?

Good men need no rules. Maybe, it was time I showed them why I had so many.

 

[Kyric]

Snow descended now in small tufts of individual flakes from the dreary gray sky. What meager flames Kyric's Lord provided their guests did little to dull the ache setting in from the northern winds. His hands remained tucked into jacket pockets as he trudged through the snow to the edge of the hillside. He peered through narrow eyes out at a barren countryside of swirling gray shadows. Somewhere out there, starving beasts watched on with growing desperation. Their intentions burned like little candles within the kiffar's sixth sense.

Greater dangers waited on the cusp of psychic winds, their ire drawn by the actions of Inosuke Ashina and Bernard of Arca.

"What am I supposed to be doin' here, pops?" Kyric stared up at a thick, blanket-like layer of clouds that blotted out the morning sun. No amount of last-minute preparation would ease the kiffar's trepidations.

It's almost time.

Kyric turned away from the mountainside and returned to the sanctuary proper. Stepping inside did little to lessen the cold, but another presence completely dwarfed winters. A familiar sensation, one the boy couldn't forget across an infinite span of time if he tried.

His father 'stood' among those gathered at Hirata.

Inosuke's words shook Kyric from his ruminations in time to keep him in place. He listened to his Master, falling in step beside Sol Dara as the group joined the main congregation in the courtyard. Kyric couldn't imagine his fellow padawan fared any better than he at their shared circumstances. Still, when he studied the mirialan, elegant and poised beside the distinguished Jedi Master Henna Ashina , Kyric knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was the least prepared to face the guests of Clan Ashina.

Thankfully, Inosuke's intuition far outclassed his own.

"Many of them knew your Father."

"They remember his sacrifice, his leadership. You are his only representative among the living."

"Search your feelings. Say what you must. When you do, do not forget my teachings; no hesitation."

"Yes, Master." Kyric nodded and followed him out. No other words need be spoken between them, for Inosuke understood the crux of the boy's conflict better than the kiffar could in that instance. No amount of logical thought would allow him to feel the truth within him, whatever that truth may be. Unfortunately, nothing came to the boy. Even as Inosuke began to speak, Kyric's conscious mind drifted in search of the right words. What could he say to a room full of Jedi who personally felt the effect of Ryv Karis on their lives, good or bad?

A welcomed intrusion broke up the monotony of his confusion.

<<" Dôshalo Kyric, What do you remember of your father?">>

<<I could write a book about all the things I remember about my father.>> The thought hung between them as Kyric collected himself. <<I guess, more than anything else, he made my siblings and me feel safe. He turned our corner of the Suicide Slums into a haven. Whenever I saw him take up Resolve, his saber, it was like... the most beautiful dance, Tyrus. Like stars colliding in an explosion of blinding fury.>> The boy fabricated an impossible display of color carved from nothing by the clash of emerald and ruby sabers. <<His will was the storm that blew through the Sith Empire, yet at his side, you felt like you were caught within that storm's very eye.>>

Kyric glanced up from Bernard's back and scanned the crowd. Kale's presence did not go unnoticed by the kiffar, but the idea of breaking decorum to greet the Paladin felt stupid even to the Kid. He settled on a nod and continued to study the courtyard. Passing over the purple-haired Eloise Dinn , the kiffar's attention settled on the Jedi who caught her eye.

Starlin Rand stood impassive thus far. Kyric did not know the man personally, but the look in his eyes stuck out to the boy. So, the young rogue did the only sensible thing. He stared Starlin in the face in hopes his curiosity would eventually capture the Jedi Knight's attention.

Kaleleon | Ishida Ashina | Tyrus Vastor ​

 

[Kornon]

Inosuke Ashina Bernard Eloise Dinn Tyrus Vastor Kaleleon Kyric
​

Among the gathered were the ambassadors of the High Republic of Barab. The four barabels wore robes befitting Jedi of old, though with their lightsabers they carried long hunting knives. They were a strange folk; they had no armour, but their appearance was no less fearsome. Their movements were slow, but they radiated strength. Their voices were soft, but carried a resolve a match for any there.

They spoke in hushed tones, hisses and barks mixed in with their whispers. Barabel was a strange language, and not one well understood by outsiders, but these were not ones well-versed in hiding their feelings. They were a mix of awe and nervousness. They walked among warriors beyond the clouds, and would surely join their ranks soon.

Of them, however, the most resolute was the most weathered among them. His robes and saber too were older, and he carried himself with the grace of a scholar and lord, and the humility of a true Jedi.

As Ashina began, Kornon gently hushed his fellows, and all awaited intently the address of the one who, it seemed, had started all this. Bernard of Arca -- Kornon had seen him once, as a boy. Now he was a knight in his own right. How he had grown, that frightening force against the Dark. One worthy to join. One to smite alongside, build alongside.

As any sensible Jedi did, Kornon had his reservations about this -- much like any sufficiently critical group, a favourite pastime of the Jedi was to rail against other Jedi. Yet in equal measure there was no lack of hope here. Surely, such a grand gathering could take on even the mightiest of Sith.

It had been many years since Kornon had taken up this fight. His duties had taken him elsewhere. Now he returned, and this seemed the place to start.

 

[Rik Perris]

HIRATA ESTATE - ASHINA OUTSKIRTS - ATRISIA
Previous: Renewed Disillusionment in A Monument to Your Sins

When he had let Sera Rosh talk him into returning to the Alliance and its New Jedi Order at a time that seemed so long ago now, it had been an act he undertook with several grains of salt and eyes wide open. The intervening span between then and now had shown him only more to bite his tongue about than what he had broken ties with them over as a younger man. Though his concerns in the now were of a different type than years past, that was irrelevant - the grounds for them shouldn't have existed to begin with; it was such that when the letter from Inosuke Ashina came to his attention, he could find little to object to within it.

Introspection followed. The separation of the itch of his misgivings from the sober reality of what it would mean for him to turn his back on the institutions of the Core for a second time, and the effect that would have on those in his life. He was fortunate to still have a family, a whole one at that, and few friends that he had gathered - that was the hardest part of all: the cost of their disagreement with his choices. The cost if his Jedi friends couldn't bring themselves to see what was plainly in front of their very eyes. What faith remained in him for the New Jedi Order of the past had been whittled away by the witness of what that same Order had become.

Depleted by their decision to let the darkness prey upon them.

But this was no easy, no simple decision. And so, Andrik Orin Perris stood amongst the gathered, listening as the Lord of Hirata spoke, having not yet resolved to say anything to those that were not here also; unresolved on the matter of whether he even should. Or if a good time would ever come.

Brown eyes scanned across the the assembly, while brittle hope for any of those he knew being present sank, adjacent, until just short of bottom, when a Sparrow caught in his line of sight... and he could scarcely believe that she was there at all. For understandable reasons. A hand went to obscure a good half of his face as the humour of it all slowly dawned on him.

"Well, fuck," he uttered quietly, muffled by that hand.

He was gonna give her so much shit.

Kaleleon • Starlin Rand • Eloise Dinn • Tyrus Vastor • Bernard​

 

[Nova Dainlei]

​

It had been quite some time since Nova had seen this many Jedi.

Back on Jakku, the number of Jedi present was always limited. Out of secrecy, he supposed, but also out of safety. Too much travel in and out could reveal the location. They had already lost so much with the previous attack, so they could not risk being struck again. So that is the reason the congregation that he stood in came to some surprise. His father had taken him to the Coruscant Temple many times when he was a child, giving him grand tours of the structure. Many fond memories were produced from there. Yet now that very location, along with other planets near the Core, faced assault.

The threat of another Tython struck fear into many.

So, he came to the estate. He answered the call of the light. It is what his father would have wanted him to do. In fact, he had done the same before. While it was quite possible that Nova was among the youngest members here, it was his duty as a Jedi to bring peace. Even if that meant shivering in the freshly fallen snow. Not quite the same climate as the desert.

His eyes were drawn to the stage as Master Ashina began. The speech was forward and to the point, yet inspiring nonetheless. These worlds of light needed to be protected from the dark side of the force. Documents in the Enclave tell tales of corruption spreading across the galaxy during the Sith-Imperial Wars. How many planets were devastated by the evil that was this Sith. The thought of that happening to his home, or any home, was too much to bear. He could not stand idly as the galaxy fell to its knees.

It was time to rise up and fight for the light that burned across the stars.

Inosuke Ashina | Bernard | Kyric | Eloise Dinn | Starlin Rand | Tyrus Vastor | Kaleleon | Kornon | Rik Perris​

 

[Heinrich Faust]

Tags: Inosuke Ashina , Bernard , Kaleleon , Starlin Rand , Tyrus Vastor , Eloise Dinn

Kingdom

He thought he had found peace...

Heinrich had spent many years in what he would call retirement. His recent years spent with his wife Oraada had been some of the most tranquil he had felt in what seemed an eternity. Yet, visions of the past, former missteps and transgressions had recently plagued his mind, driving him to a state of isolation he had not felt in years. And at its precipice, a single moment shot through him like a well-placed bolt of plasma.

Pietro Demici, his long time ally, and in later years, enemy, was dead...

It was quite the shock to the former Grand Marshall. Heinrich was under the impression that his dear friend Isla had dealt the killing blow. Yet, he didn't feel Pietro's death then, but now, it felt as if through him, a thousand voices cried out. And through that, Heinrich could feel the old corruption of his former master.

He made his way to the meeting, knowing full well that his name had been placed on the list. These so-called Lightsworn may hold themselves to similar standards, but should they question Heinrich, he would be ready to shut their ideals down, for he would not stand for such hypocrisy. After all, it was he that stood against Solipsis upon Tython, taking a stand next to Ryv, Rurik, and Dagon. Should anyone question him here, he would beg the question of if they were there when the very fabric of reality was breaking.

He hoped he would not have to make that defense. For the Ashla knew who the faithful were, and who would be found wanting.

​

 

[Fallon Draellix-Kobitana]

Location: Ashina, Atrisia
Objective: Attend meeting of the lightsworn
Loadout: here
Tags: Inosuke Ashina Bernard Kaleleon Starlin Rand Tyrus Vastor Eloise Dinn Heinrich Faust
OPEN for direct interaction

As the open arms of her starfighter touched down in the landing deck the fourteen year old quickly disengaged her thrusters and paused her music, it wasn't a long flight from Lujo and with her grandparents living in Ashina she was fairly used to making this trip, although not usually behind her Mother's back. Isla Draellix-Kobitana had been visited by her friend a friend from before the fall of the Ashlan Crusade, Heinrich Faust , a man who had also apparently had some dealings with her Auntie Cass. Fallon held fascination about her mother's old life as the prime minister of the Ashlan crusade, and there seemed to be any number of personalities that would periodically surface from that time.

Heinrich and her mother had discussed the old times and the future times against the forces of darkness. The ashlan remnant fleet was still active and Fallon was a key part of the insurgency in old Ashlan space. Now though it seemed there was a call to action that appealed to ex-Ashlans and numerous other devout light siders. Fallon had not been told about the call, not deliberately anyway. She didn't know why her mother was reluctant to join lightsworn, Fallon could see her point that the suffering of the people on the Kaisereich was more pressing than a single barely habitable planet, but this was Tython. When Fallon and her mother fought, they fought with passion and the teen may have said some things that she would regret when she returned home to Lujo, she probably wouldn't be allowed off world for a few cycles after this stunt to be honest.

She needed to do this though, she was an Ashlan, she wanted to be an Ashlan Jedi, she was a good insurgent, she knew that, but she could do more and the lightsworn seemed to be the best avenue for her to be united with kindred sorts and take the fight to the Bogan. Both of mothers had attempted to match make her with the NJO, but it didn't feel right to her, sure there was some nice people, but the devotion just wasn't there for her and she quickly lost interest, perhaps this would be a better avenue for her to pursue, if she was to be a Jedi, officially at least, she needed to meet with more Jedi. All the training from Eina L'lerim-Vandiir , Geiseric and Vyrien Paskal was wonderful and shaped her into the force for light that she was, but to be an actual, recognised Jedi would give her more tools to accomplish her goals.

Fallon left her ship behind and quickly made her way to the rest of the Lightsworn, there were many people here, who included Lord Faust. She grinned as the wayfinder that he had left and that she had stolen from her mother's suddenly felt as it was stickijg out of her pocket to mark her as the runaway she was.

There was a mental buzz on her implant before a text only message appeared on her retina.

-- Incoming message --
"For the love Ashla you better not be on Atrisia right now, Mum xx"

She was going to be in so much trouble when she got home.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard approached the edge of the platform. He stood there clothed in the tunic of a Jedi, simple and without splendor, before a gathering of too many to count.

"Friends, strangers, Jedi, lend me your ears!" He called over the gathering.

"I stand before you not to speak of plans or bold designs, but to proclaim action! As most of you will know, Tython has fallen. Our great Nemesis, the Sith, has returned from the brink of oblivion, and now they stand poised to destroy another sanctuary the Jedi have called home since antiquity!"

He moved, deliberatley, across the elevated platform so that each being gathered here today could see him up close, and he could in turn lay his eyes on them. Proud warriors, broken wanderers, outcasts and exiles all had made the journey.

"Each one of you has known the enemy I speak of in your hearts, just as I have known it in mine. Darkness descends upon the galaxy, and its grasp would see the light strangled beneath its shadow. The pull of the Dark Side can be a powerful one, I know! Anger! Despair! Fear! They are servants of the Darkness and in our times they feed on the hearts of beings just as they feed on our hearts.

"I stand before you today to proclaim: No more! We are Jedi! No longer shall we fear the Dark. No longer can we carry hate and resentment in our hearts! Do not despair the fallen, for their sacrifice has not been in vain so long as we still stand! It is we, servants of the Light, more so than any other beings in this galaxy, who know the threat the Darkness poses, and we know how to answer it!"

From his belt he produced his lightsaber and held it high.

"Tython has fallen. The Darkness stands at our gates, and it rattles within its cage. If we do not act now, the consequences will be dire. We cannot sit idle in our lofty towers and debate. We must act!

"Let us come together, O Jedi, and swear once more to the Light we serve, that no Dark deed shall stand unopposed! Swear once more your oaths to the Light, and stand with me, as I will stand against the Darkness!

"For the Force, and for the future of the galaxy! Let us carry Light into Darkness, together, as Lightsworn!

Inosuke Ashina Henna Ashina Kyric Kornon Kaleleon Starlin Rand Eloise Dinn Rik Perris Tyrus Vastor Nova Dainlei Heinrich Faust Fallon Draellix-Kobitana Shinzou Ashina Ikon Ishida Ashina Sol Dara Thelar Grayson Sera Rosh

 

[Sera Rosh]

SPARROW
HIRATA ESTATE | ATRISIA
DIRECT TAG: Rik Perris
PROXIMITY: Inosuke Ashina | Kyric | Tyrus Vastor | Eloise Dinn (and Starlin - I aint double tagging you Sal) | Kaleleon | Nova Dainlei | Kornon | Heinrich Faust | Fallon Draellix-Kobitana | Bernard

CAUGHT IN THE FIRE​

It had all come to a point.

For quite some time, Sera had been feeling that the Order had been too complacent. Even during the time of relative peace, there had been trouble brewing. Not only petty criminals, but if the attack by the Mandalorians had been anything to go on, was that you can never become complacent. Yet that is exactly what happened. She'd been doing what she could, but it wasn't enough.

And now they were all paying the price for that complacency.

Empress Teta fallen. Tython fallen. A new and Darker Empire had sprouted in their midst because the Council had been complacent. It was during this time, that her former Master had gone missing as well. Sera had been struggling with these internal feelings of resentment when the Open Letter arrived at the Temple. It was almost a relief to know she wasn't the only one that felt that way.

She was still readying to leave for Atrisia, when the list got nailed to the Temple door. She'd read it and had zeroed in on one name in particular - Rhis Fisto. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought it possible that he of all people would become one of those that he had fought so vehemently against.

The complacency had taken an unacceptable victim.

She found herself and her droid, Dobby, on Atrisia faster than she expected, standing in the sludge of the Hirata Estate, ready to do whatever it took to let the Light prevail. Either the Nautolan turned back to it, or he died. There could be no in-between. Listening to the Lord of Hirata and Bernard speak, it was clear she wasn't the only one thinking it. They couldn't suffer the Darkness to grow stronger and take even more from the Galaxy. Though the smallest amount of self-doubt bubbled not far from the surface - if her former Master fell, did that mean that she was also more susceptible because of his teachings? Would she end up suffering the same fate despite fighting against it?

Surely she could fight against it - just like Bernard said.

It was during these musings and speeches that Sera felt eyes on her. Turning her head from the speakers, she caught sight of one she never thought she'd find here. Well, this is awkward. She'd been the reason he returned to the Order. Fat lot of good that did. Knowing how he kicked against it, he'd most probably gloat. Might as well get it over with.
"Look who it is, Dobs." she whispered to the astromech. "Come on." They slowly moved through the crowd to where Rik stood. Sidling in next to him, she looked back to the platform where Bernard was still speaking.

"Fancy seeing you here, Perris. Ship break down?" she asked softly yet nonchalantly.

 

[Sol Dara]

Sol was no veteran like some of those present, but she had seen her fair share of speeches and crowds. As a Consular in training, sitting in on another lament against the dark side was not new. But it was clear that this one was the start of a new chapter.

The mirialan could sense the crowd's eagerness, laced with an undertone of curiosity. A tinge of fear. Some people wore their emotions more clearly than others. It was easy to imagine the questions that lingered. Were those present serious about answering the call, or just testing the waters? Would this day truly and meaningfully alter those that followed?

Then there were some Jedi who looked like they didn't even need to hear a speech to be convinced. This was the moment they had been waiting for, a moment they thought they wouldn't see. Bernard could say anything. They were already sold.

Sol stood dutifully next to Master Henna Ashina as she stole a quick glance at Kyric . The mirialan overheard Master Inosuke Ashina speak to the boy, and wondered if he planned to give a speech as well. The kiffar gave himself zero downtime in the days leading to this moment. He was consistently off-world or training, and barely spoke a word to anybody. Sol was still getting to know him, but Kyric had made it clear when they met who his father was. She imagined the pressure he must feel having to face those who stood before the previous Sword. Would he meet their expectations if he shared a few words?

The mirialan wasn't too worried. Kyric wore his heart on his sleeve. The crowd didn't need to hear fancy titles or empty promises. The Jedi present needed conviction. Action. Leaders and heroes already forged or in the making standing beside them on the front lines of a fight that felt like it would never end.

"Friends, strangers, Jedi, lend me your ears!" He called over the gathering.

Blue eyes immediately fell on the Jedi as his speech began, gaining the young woman's undivided attention.

"I stand before you today to proclaim: No more! We are Jedi! No longer shall we fear the Dark. No longer can we carry hate and resentment in our hearts! Do not despair the fallen, for their sacrifice has not been in vain so long as we still stand! It is we, servants of the Light, more so than any other beings in this galaxy who know the threat the Darkness poses, and we know how to answer it!"

Another memory of her previous master, now one with the force. A reminder for why Sol stood amongst this congregation today. Master Selira's death would not be in vain. Her wisdom, her teachings, her memory; none of it would be lost. Nothing would be for nothing. Sol would carry it all with her into this new journey.

 

[Starlin Rand]

"Friends, strangers, Jedi, lend me your ears!"

Starlin startled, blinking as he opened his eyes. Really? That’s the opener he’s going with? Not very original.

No matter. He listened intently to what the one-time school bomber had to say, all while Kyric Karis stared at him. Starlin ignored the boy.

After Bernard finished his speech, Starlin waited a moment, then stepped forward. “Your forebears created the New Jedi Order for the same reasons you’re creating the Lightsworn,” he said, his gaze roaming over the group gathered on the platform. “Hell, several of you are the very same people who made the NJO what it is today—and if you aren’t, then you’re the children, the apprentices, the friends of the founders.

“But it seems to me that you've forgotten something. This isn’t the Ryv Karis Era anymore. The Silver Jedi whom you so despised for their inaction are long gone. The NJO isn’t sitting on their hands in an ivory tower while the darkness spreads unchecked. They haven’t tried to compromise with the Sith. They haven’t betrayed their brethren. They’re fighting the same war you are—so why are you treating them like enemies?"

His expression grew drawn with grief, and he fought to keep his voice from breaking. “I share in your sorrow. I lost my Padawan on Tython. I understand the urgent need to rescue these worlds from the Sith. But please explain to me how dividing the Jedi Order into rival factions will help you win this war. Tell me how pointing fingers at other Jedi and claiming to be holier-than-thou will solve anything. If you want to destroy the Sith, join the fight. If you truly believe the Order is too passive, know that they are seeking new leaders to guide them as we speak. None of this reformation crap is necessary.”

Inosuke Ashina Bernard Sol Dara Sera Rosh Fallon Draellix-Kobitana Heinrich Faust Nova Dainlei Rik Perris Kornon Kaleleon Tyrus Vastor​

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Boots crunched upon the thin skein of snow as a hooded figure in black robes made his way toward the platform, pushing through the crowd. When he drew near the foot of the platform he waited, listening to the speakers, then he lowered his hood to reveal a tangle of raven hair which fell across eyes that burned with a single-minded hate.

He couldn’t be more than twenty.

So young to know such boundless rage. He looked over them all and perhaps they could feel it, the cavern in his soul ripped open, a very wound in the Force itself that drew in others like the inevitable march toward a black hole. It screamed for attention.

No Jedi he, no great master of the Force. Just the last of a once great name. Blown away like so much ash on the breeze. Crushed under heel like…. Like snow.

Let them think him young. Let them think him weak. Let them think him a fool. It did not matter.

He stared around at the gathering for a moment, then spoke above them in a cold, haughty tone well used to authority since birth.

”While you prattle, the Kainate fleet burned Tion and her moons.” He spoke them flatly, devoid of any emotion. “Billions are dead.”

His gaze swept the room again, defiant.

”I am Tydeus, Peer of Tion, last of the Gravid dynasty. Heir to ashes by a poisoned sea.” His lips curled into a sneer.

“Who here will help me claim my retribution?”

 

[Stennis Fel]

P E N I T E N T
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THE IRON CRUSADE
Inosuke Ashina Kyric Bernard Tyrus Vastor Heinrich Faust Kaleleon Sera Rosh Ishida Ashina Nova Dainlei Rik Perris Nova Dainlei

RAVELIN, SEAT OF A FALLEN EMPIRE
THE GARDENS OF PELLAEON
THE LODGE​

Few could say they tread among more vaunted halls. In all the strife that had plagued the galaxy, the gardens remained. The plants still dutifully tended to by the pages of the Imperial Knights. Few in number they may be. It was a creed that once fielded an army of thousands of argent sabers raised in defiance of darkness. The Emperor's will, his vigilant crusaders of Imperial justice. Now? They numbered no more than a hundred at the very post, most of which that remained of the Iron Crusade, the chapter house of which Rurik Fel had founded upon the dawning of the New Imperial Order.

They held sentinel over Bastion, a world which was once the throne which thrummed the strings of control that willed the tremors of an Empire and by extension, the Galaxy. Since? It had gone to ruin, the bustling trade which had run through its ports as a center of economic brilliance had waned to local profit at best. The star destroyers which often eclipsed the cultivating star dwindled to a twin omen in the skies of the Imperial capital. It was still in relative peace and order, but it hard stood proud as it once had.

Within the center of the Iron Sun inside the Gardens of Pellaeon, a lone soul meditated. His hands rested atop his thighs as knelt before nothingness. In his thoughts, synapses of memories unseen snatched his mind. The Ironclad, Rurik, in moments of tranquility superimposed between moments of great strife, locked in battle with The Demons of darkness in whatever form they took. Kascalion Giedfield. Darth Prazutis. Darth Carnifex. Darth Solipsis...

Fewer stood before greater foes behind the blade. Fewer souls were more stalwart in their mortal contempt of darkness than he, his forefather. A concluding step interrupted his lone thoughts, his grey eyes opening, mirroring that of Rurik's own gaze. A Fel of Serenno, the cadet branch which had last claimed the throne of Empire. The rest? Pretenders at best, a long scattered dynasty.

He glanced over his shoulder before he rose to his feet, brushing a hand through his ebon cloak as he looked to the man before him. Greybeard in age but still broad and stalwart in build. Dathrohan. One of the proud knight Paladin of the Iron Crusade, still vigil over Ravelin over this time and one of Stennis's most trusted confidants.

"I didn't mean to disturb you...a message came." Stennis waved a hand in dismissal. He had no grounds to warrant any apology to him. Dathrohan was once his master following the death of the Emperor. His counsel always had his ear.

"From whom?" He inquired, making his way to the man's flank as the pair made way from the Pellaeon gardens.

"In truth...hardly intended for us but...I felt it pertinent." Stennis, Castellan of Bastion nodded in reply.

A brisk walk before they stood atop a balcony overlooking the humbling, wide reaching corridors of Ravelin's streets, the fallen banner of the New Imperial Order still fluttering in the slow wind.

Waymar produced a datapad in his cybernetic hand, offering it to Stennis who flicked it open, scrolling his fingers through its contents.

The Three Letters, authored by Inosuke Ashina . Stennis leaned over the balcony's railing, apathetic to the soft trickle of rain that beat over the pair as Waymar watched the younger Knight Commander read its contents.
"A reformation of the Jedi...we may be no Jedi but we share an aim, to drive back the darkness...to bring the end of the Sith." He said, flicking the screen off as he glanced the way of Waymar. The man nodded in reply.

"They demand conversion, to their code...to their ways. And yet...we have our own." Dathrohan replied in kind.

"What good does it do us here? What good do we do the galaxy here?" He asked, lofting a brow to the elder Imperial Knight. The man furrowed his weather beaten brow before he faintly shrugged his shoulders.

"It was the Empire who redeemed me...not the Jedi. It is to the Empire that all the Knights swear their oath." Waymar stated firmly.

"Had this reached Emperor Rurik, eternal honor upon his name, do you believe he would've sought them out?" He asked the elder knight. Waymar was silent for a moment before he nodded.

"I gave this to you...because I know he would...I- I merely advise caution before you swear what is the last of our numbers to such a cause that forsakes the Empire. But in truth...we are swords sworn against the darkness...above all else." Waymar explained.

"The Code states, as you said, that we are the will of the Empire...above all else, Commander Dathrohan." Stennis replied.

"But there is no Empire...and darkness remains." He said before he turned on his heel to make way from the balcony.

HIRATA
WATCHING FROM A DISTANCE​

The Revenant, 'Black Knight' lapsed into orbit of Atrisia, its cloaking mechanism immediately wrapping the ship in a net evading detection from all overlooking vessels as it swiftly made its way to the surface. A retinue of the Iron Crusade arrived and approached the meeting. Each of them donning black cloaks, an image taken in permanent mourning of the slain Rurik Fel, in honor of his sacrifice to the Galaxy as their characteristic argent armor, further worn down to the more metallic layer beneath donned their bodies. Upon their faces, the iron death-masque of Fel guarded their features but still showed their bare eyes in all their stone apathy.

Another step and Stennis looked in overwatch of the meeting, torchlight illuminating the dusk air as the Jedi convened in debate and unity. His pale grey eyes peered over the matter in idle curiosity. It seemed meager in the scale of what they wished to accomplish, but never the less, Stennis would hear them.

He approached, a score of Imperial Knights at his flank, each donning their characteristic armor, cloaks and masques as they approached. His gloved hand rose to his face to slowly pull the death masque from his face, revealing his scarred features and the pale streak of argent that flushed through his otherwise black hair. Fel.

He peered over the others but otherwise stilled his hand, his blade and his body. He anticipated some measure of restraint or hostility toward his ilk, ever emblazoned with the Iron Sun they were.

 

[Inosuke Ashina]

​

"Join the fight? Knight Rand, look around you," he implored. A small wave of his hand indicated the scores of gathered Jedi. "Do you believe they have come here to moralize where no one will hear them?" As if expecting an answer from the crowd, he glanced over the assembly. "Or to fruitlessly pontificate their grievances?" Epicanthal eyes narrowed, treatment becoming refusal. "No. It is you who has forgotten something; our charge, our oaths, our responsibilities. Our brethren have been driven here by the inaction you deny exists. Yet, their convictions are evidence enough. They are here for a fight the New Jedi Order will not give them."

Inosuke shifted, his voice carrying further to address the whole. "As Lightsworn, the bureaucracy of a rotting senate will no longer chain you, nor the lethargy of a stunted council. With this new mandate, we shall excise the restraints put upon us by the Ruusan Reformation. Our hands will no longer be tied as we endeavor to take up arms in a crusade against the Dark Side. Dark Empire, Sith Order, Mawite, Kainanite, and every other dark dynasty will know our swords. A new code will dictate our refusal to suffer the dark, wherever it looms."

"Peace extends only from the Light, there can be no peace while the Darkness thrives." Another lordly gesture drew attention to their new arrivals. "Retribution is our charge," he clarified, petitioning the crowed. "For those who have gone into the Force at the behest of the Dark Side's twisted will. For those who have suffered, anguished, and died at the whim of our ancient enemies. Time after time, the resurgence of the Sith has proved that until every last adherent of the dark has been destroyed, we will never know peace."

A long pause allowed murmurs to fester among the crowd. "Jedi, if you harbor even a single reservation toward upholding your ancestral duty; Begone from us, we never knew you."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Bernard | Henna Ashina | Ishida Ashina | Kyric | Starlin Rand
Kaleleon | Tyrus Vastor | Shinzou Ashina | Heinrich Faust | Sol Dara | Rik Perris
Thelar Grayson | Ikon | Sera Rosh | Fallon Draellix-Kobitana | Castian Vero
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
[THE LIGHTSWORN]​

 

[Kaleleon]

Words spoken, handed over to others, rebuttals of how the Jedi should or shouldn't operate. It was a curious thing. Bernard wanted to bring everyone together to fight against not just the Sith who were within the Empire, or their returned Mawites, but all forms of the Darkness. All forms of this maleficence. It was a very noble cause. One that many could get behind. The Ashina family backed and supported him. It was not that difficult to tell with how so... adamantly they stood with him in front of everyone. It was this almost egotistical view of how the Jedi should and shouldn't be.

Many sought the jedi to be just as they claimed to be. "Peacekeepers" people who would keep the peace between peoples who had wars, or indifferences. Yet, in their arrogant denial of being a policing force, they themselves could grow to stagnation. It has happened before. Many times before. Their calling of this to be rescinded was not new to me. Reminding me greatly of the Ashlan Crusaders. Warriors of the light who believed it to be a divine right, or power that the darkness be stricken from the slate.

I did not see it as a religion. There was trust in the force, but not to the extent of being a Deity. Nor that those who had this power were godlike beings. If everyone had the force, then no one was God. Yet, some were treated as such. Now, this seemed to be headed in that direction. Was this about actually fighting the darkness, or was this more so just sticking it to the Galactic Alliance and the New Jedi Order? I don't remember any Council Meetings in which they came to them, pleading for them to attack back.

Nor did I see them come out in a small group like last time. A mere half dozen people then. Now? There were more than that. Well more than that. Even as a man from Tion, showed up, vowing vengeance against the Sith Order, which was different from the Dark Empire's Sith, it was still Sith being hunted. How long would this crusade go? Just to take out the Sith? or was it to reform the Jedi in a new image?

Speak of a new code, and new set of rules was... unusual. The code was self explanatory, and people had different interpretations of such a code. One that is so old, and ancient, yet passed down through the years, that the true origin of such can only be remembered in legend and myth. Yet, all of this talk, all of this. Was it really going to be for this cause? or was it a personal vendetta in which they wanted to kill the proclaimed "Sith'ari" again just to make Ryv's sacrifice worth it? How many were willing to do the same to reach that goal?

Words could mean so much. I knew that, intimately, first hand. I had been proud to be exiled of the order in order to do what I knew was right. Yet when I had failed on Csilla? I cowered. Would these people truly be able to do the same? proudly with the chest. It was now, I decided to speak up, to voice this concern I so harbored. Even as the statement of leaving was given, by any doubts being kept to one's self.

"A crusade against who in truth? The Empire? The Sith Order? The other Jedi who have a different value of what it means to be a Jedi? What would be a prophesized end for this crusade? I have traveled this road before. I am not fearful of such consequences. Nor doubtful in the ambition, dedication, or desire. I seek the answer of who this preverbal barrel, is pointed at before we pull the trigger. You seek to bring desolation to the Darkness within all. You seek to bring Justice, vengeance, whatever it may be. Yet, you are shooting at the Jedi Order that had to face that destruction. Why not aid them? Why choose a path of greater resistance, alone?"

I may be younger than some. Nearing thirties was young for some species of the Galaxy. I may not have been a Leader among men. However, I knew what a Jedi was. I have studied it, lived it, breathed it for years. I was taught by some of the absolute best Jedi that have ever lived. Romi Jade , Cotan Sar'andor , Coren Starchaser . They were people who I lived up to. Hell, Ryv was a man who I saw as someone who did what needed to be done, even if he may have been villainized. Yet his martyrdom inspired literal thousands of others. It showed that the ultimate sacrifice was needed to bring down the ultimate evil.

Yet, the question I posed was simply summed up with one more sentence.

"What is the sacrifice you all will make to defeat this darkness?"

Bernard Henna Ashina Ishida Ashina Kyric Starlin Rand Tyrus Vastor Shinzou Ashina Heinrich Faust Sol Dara Rik Perris Thelar Grayson Ikon Sera Rosh Fallon Draellix-Kobitana

 

[Kornon]

Tydeus of Tion | @yappers @nonyappers
​

The four barabels took in the discussion, nodding along with the brief speeches, questions, and arguments alike. The only interruption was the husk of a man, who strode in like a knife through the crowd, a raw wound, itching, throbbing. His words, impassioned and elegant yet harsh and demanding, were left unheeded as Ashina focused on the broader criticism of the gathering.

Kornon's three companions had recoiled, finding the man's rage discomforting -- dangerous. But the Jedi Master approached to address him. His presence became a salve over that wound, a calm and soothing light, but equally strong. A gentle yet firm guiding hand. He put his on the boy's shoulder.

"Were words nothing, you would not have come here to speak and ask for these ones' aide. And so eloquently at that." A kind smile. "Patience is a virtue. Lethargy, a sin. These ones adhere to the former, and resist the latter. Look at the ones gathered today -- do you doubt their resolve? Their strength? You have come knowing here lies the key to the justice you seek. An army without organization or leadership is no army at all; a Jedi without a clear mind will surely fall.

"Patience. Your justice will be at hand."