Populate The Impossible Hour | GA Populate of Walalla

[Valery Noble]

Shattered​

---

Location: Coruscant, lower levels
Valery: Appearance
Ship: Factory link
Tag: Romund Sro Aria Vestra and OPEN to other players!

Chapter IV: Back into the Chaos
The use of Force Light seemed to have the desired effect against him, as she felt the Dark presence withering away very slowly. It blinded him and left him exposed enough for her blade to pierce through the augmented cane. As the item broke, and Romund fell into the pit, the corner of her lip curled up. It was over.. or so she thought.

It wasn't quite the end she was hoping to achieve, but a fall like this would be a quick end at the very least. She just sincerely hoped nobody would be down there when his body struck the floor.

The Master's posture straightened again, her blade disengaged and she took a small breath of fresh air. But that's when she saw it coming up - a ship with a familiar face on the very top of it. The purple plasma ignited immediately but there was no way she was going to reach him safely, and he had no intentions of coming back for round 2.

Instead, he called out to her..

“Till next time, Valery!”

Hearing this, Valery's eyes narrowed into what could only be described as a death glare. Seeing him escape to continue his chaos another day irked her. But at least the departure of the ship meant that those left down below would be a little safer.

"Until next time," she said softly to herself as the blade disengaged.

Valery then turned away and walked back through the streets to make sure the civilians had cleared out and headed for safety. This time, there luckily were no bystanders watching the fighting, so she stood alone. Which is exactly what she wanted. Of course, there were many more levels and districts to clear, but one step at a time.

For now, she decided to reach to other Jedi, just in case any of them required assistance.

<Transmission>
"This is Jedi Master Valery Noble, down in the lower levels. Are there any Jedi in need of assistance?"​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

SHATTERED
CORUSCANT | NEW JEDI ORDER TEMPLE
LIGHT THINKS IT TRAVELS FASTER THAN ANYTHING, BUT ITS WRONG
NO MATTER HOW FAST LIGHT TRAVELS
IT FINDS THE DARKNESS HAS ALWAYS GOT THERE FIRST,
AND IS WAITING FOR IT
Konrad Harrsk

They stopped their walk just enough for Konrad to uncharacteristically tend to her wound. She’d tied the cloth around as tight as she could but it was doing a poor job at stopping the bleeding. Just absorbing more and more blood. The additional pressure from his makeshift remedy helped apply some structure to sealing the gap.

Arching a brow in surprise to his tenderness, she opened her mouth to speak but was instantly stopped before she could offer any sort of appreciation. As it was, she settled with a knowing smirk and a nod. The only ounce of levity afforded in the direness of now but instances of bashful benevolence were so entirely rare she had to do something to acknowledge it.

“Alright, thanks for nothing then.”

Coruscant was in shambles. Navigating on-foot through the streets was a tiresome and dreary affair. Crushed stones and smoke, fires and blood. It didn’t belong here in the glittery capital of democracy.

The temple, the recently reinstated New Jedi Temple, was desecrated. She choked back a gasp and swallowed her shock, barely listening to Konrad while looking up at the mounds of debris. The entire entrance had collapsed, affecting much of the foundation around it.

Of course, Konrad’s first response was to insult after learning the identity of their masked attacker. Inosuke was easy to hate. For a long while, both she and Qiy’on, and by extension Konrad, had been raised under the assumption there had never been another Ashina-born. There was no Inosuke. And Konrad, and Qiy’on, had only heard of his shameful dishonour to the Ashina family, to Ashina the Invincible. It wasn’t a wonder they were so callous to the exiled heir.

But Qiy’on had been one of them. As rivalrous as the three of them had been, there was much they’d shared. In victory and failure. His hot-headed and unthinking bullying was met with a levelled glare from Ishida, which quickly turned into an eye roll.

She couldn’t shake it though. That feeling of failure. Letting him down. How fractured the Ashinas were. One, an exiled Jedi wanderer. Would he ever go home? The other, a mercenary for the Brotherhood. Would he ever go home? If they did, what would bring them there? What would they do? What was the point of a home, of a family, of a legacy, if she let it break apart like this?

And her? What was she? She was a Jedi Padawan, student to Michael Sardun, a harbinger of The Light but as soon as the decree had gone out for Jedi to be corralled to the temple she’d got her back up, refused, sneered, and fell back on family ties with the Hayatas.

Maybe that was the only constant. Family. Her only unquestionable role was as heir to that family.

"Perhaps, he isn't keen on siding with the losers,

Instead of following the trajectory of Konrad’s gesture— the devastation was clear—Ishida closed her eyes.

“Maybe.”

"would you?"

The space behind her ribs ached a depth that hurt more than the bruising from her brother’s boot. It felt like a fist was curling around her heart and squeezing it for all it was worth, trying to wring out an answer.

Now was a time of need. The Jedi needed strength. Unquestioning support, and here she was, hesitating. She’d already been defeated. The moment she tread in a place of imbalance, her footing became less certain, and her next steps grew less and less clear.

It had been a mistake not to seek understanding with Qiy’on, why was he doing what he was doing? She’d almost done the same with Inosuke, too. Bernard.. all of them. She herself the most.

“Konrad,” Ishida opened her eyes, expressionless and distant once more.

“Why the New Imperials? Is it because of your father?” His legacy? “Because it’s the path you were raised for?”

ASHINA CLAN​

 

[Auteme]

For all the destruction and death that had come, enough of the Temple was still standing that Auteme could find a place to hide. People had come to pick through the rubble, to help out, but so much of the place had been abandoned even with the New Jedi at full strength. She could've run miles and not seen a soul.

Instead, her exhaustion caught up with her after a few minutes. She sputtered and coughed, feeling her throat become dry and her eyes become wet. She tried to wipe the tears away with her palms. Her knees gave out. Her tears splattered on the ground.

Everything she'd tried to do had utterly failed. Everything she'd pushed aside had come back to bite her. She should've known, should've thought harder, should've protected everyone else. Her push to take on Solipsis had ruined the Temple. It'd ruined the Senate. It'd ruined the Jedi.

She'd been able to overcome moments like these in part by reminding herself that she couldn't be in control. Yet, this time, she'd pushed so hard to have as much control as possible, as much responsibility as possible, and for some reason she hadn't realized how much it'd bear down on her if she failed.

Ever since Korriban, ever since she'd chosen this path, she'd wondered if she was losing a part of herself. That spark, hope, optimism, something. No, she'd never stopped being an optimist. It had never even occurred to her that this might be the outcome.

Her breaths were labored, her heart heavy, but her eyes cleared just enough to look around. The hall she found herself in was decorated with floating murals and tapestries. Ahead, a dark stone formation broke through the floor, rising up ever higher. The Sacred Spire thrummed with energy. She crawled toward it, desperate yet weak. The mountain had held up the Jedi for thousands of years, and would for thousands more. She reached to it, then-

She stopped, suddenly aware of the weight of the thing. Its presence was dulled, yet still strong and magnificent. Her hand fell. She clutched her stomach, grasping as though to fold in on herself, to disappear. Suddenly her lungs felt full again, but she couldn't do anything but scream.

She screamed. She wailed, tore at her hair, cried. In a flood it struck her -- every cry, every wound, every death she'd been ignoring. Now she was brought low by her ambition, her goal to do what she thought would be justice, would be good. Coruscant screamed to her. The Temple groaned and wept. And then it was silent, and she was left to her tears.

 

[Yula Perl]

It was dark beneath the rubble.

Her task had been to escort the Jedi kids out of the temple, as far away as they could get. Why would the Galactic Alliance want to quarantine their own Jedi? Dagon Kaze had his theories. Allegedly there had been writing on the wall, or not so much, depending on who you spoke to. Either way the direction was clear: evacuate the children should the worst come to pass.

Yula didn’t want to know what was going on, for what it was worth. She’d hear about it later, hopefully from Dagon himself and not on the news.

It was dusty beneath the rubble.

Arthur gave her a map. The network of tunnels beneath the temple were filled with Sith, as the oddest spanner in the works. The amber glow of her own saber had been burned into her vision, spreading across her sight even now as her single eye found shapes in the dark. Yula knew the lower levels of Coruscant well enough by now. Got the kids from one safe house to another. Didn’t know where they were now, but they weren’t here. No little bodies crushed beneath the wreckage, no tiny life signatures draining away into nothing like the graveyard Coruscant had become.

Pulverized debris coated her lungs, sending the Zeltron into a hacking fit when she tried to inhale deeply. There went another few years of her life. The numb, bloodied stubs of her fingers slid slowly to the back of her neck where the communication implant had been embedded. It took some effort for a weary hand to work up enough strength to send out a distress beacon, which was a risk it and of itself. She didn’t know who was alive, who was in control, or who would be coming for her, if anyone.

It was suffocating beneath the rubble.

Katarine Ryiah | Aria Vestra | Open

 

[Aria Vestra]

Location: Lower Levels of Coruscant

Aria pointed over to one side for a few workers to brace a structural beam to keep the entrance from collapsing. She then turned and pointed in the opposite direction for a few helpful souls that'd tagged along to douse a nearby flame. It was an endless barrage of things that needed doing in the depths of the city. One heart-achingly slow step at a time. As for any decrees by the Senate about a Jedi being out and about... Well, Aria knew those halls well enough. Let them arrest her and see how much that was worth. Fortunately the people on the street were too overwhelmed to care about politicians and their games. Certainly some would try to corral wayward souls, but Aria could spot those too consumed by duty to the letter of the law to miss its spirit.

"This is Jedi Master Valery Noble, down in the lower levels. Are there any Jedi in need of assistance?"

The Ioshan Master lifted her comlink as a voice called out in the nearby area. "This is Master Vestra. We're nearby and working to rescue as many souls as we can. I'll send you--"

Suddenly a chirp of a distress beacon being received sounded from the link. Aria blinked in surprise that one should activate so long after the fighting had ended. Someone must have regained consciousness and turned it on. "Master Noble, did you also receive a distress beacon just now?" She lifted a hand in the air to signal for those not engaged in rescue operations at the moment to assemble. "I can meet you there." The more of them gathered together, the more obstacles they could overcome and people they could save. At least that was Aria's hope.

It wouldn't hurt to have someone to talk to either.

Tag: Valery Noble | Yula Perl | Open

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok wasn’t sure how he wound up in this area of the Temple, evidently the site of someone’s secret stash. Liquor bottles in various colors were strewn about, some broken, others intact. The one that drew his attention, however, was green.

His shoes crunched over broken glass as he bent to pick it up, unscrewed the cap, and sniffed it. The liquor reeked of pungent medicinal herbs, and the fumes from the insanely high alcohol content burned his nostrils from the first whiff. This type of drink was meant to be served diluted and sweetened. Nimdok drank straight from the bottle, not caring how bad it tasted.

After a few sips, he felt the beginnings of a buzz. A few more, and tipsiness came swiftly upon him. He raised the bottle to his lips, ready to take the final swig that would make him well and truly drunk, when he heard someone screaming.

The bottle fell to the floor but did not shatter, the contents glugging out as a sobered Nimdok took cover, peering out to see what was the matter. This section of the building was largely abandoned, the rescue efforts turned elsewhere. After waiting a few more moments, listening to the despondent wailing, he stepped outside, following the sound to its source.

He found Auteme kneeling by the Sacred Spire, sobbing hysterically. Looking around, he tried to discern why she was so upset—apart from the obvious—before slowly approaching where she lay and sitting down beside her. He had been hoping to run into her before he left Coruscant, oddly enough, and while it clearly wasn’t a good time to talk, his timing had always sucked anyway.

The professor didn’t touch her or offer any comforting gestures apart from his presence there. Partly because he smelled like a drunkard, and partly because he suspected there was no better remedy than to let her tears run their course. So he let her cry, cry, cry—just not by herself.

Auteme​

 

[KAR2]

Location: Lower Levels of Coruscant
Tags: Yula Perl | Valery Noble | Aria Vestra

Katarine closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she knelt beside a body. She had bent down to check for a pulse but there was one. She opened her deep green eyes and resigned herself to move forward, leaving the poor departed man behind. She climbed over some fallen chunks of buildings, and coughed as dust kicked up under her boots. Somewhere in the distance she heard a howl, and wondered vaguely what that could be. She wasn't entirely briefed on what had happened during the battle.

She was about to keep moving North when she heard the chirping of a distress beacon nearby.

"Hello?! Can you hear me?!"

She started to follow the sharp sound of the beacon.

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Shattered
Broken
Betrayed
Tired
Am I A Jedi?

————————————
​

Durasteel rubbed against the Knight’s forehead as his robotic arm wiped away a mixture of sweat and blood.

Collapsed down resting on top of a pile of rubble was a worn out man. Laying beside him was his blaster pistol, char marks decorating the front of the barrel. Opposite laid his lightsabers, covered in a layer of blood, dirt, and ash.

Ahead of him sat the once-beautiful Jedi Temple. What was once a symbol of strength, unity, and power for the Galactic Alliance was now a broken reminder of what they had let themselves become. Some frustration still laid on the Senate and their order, while grief was held for his fellow Jedi.

They weren’t strong enough. They weren’t powerful enough. And now, they had let the Maw best them.

Tears began to fill the Knight’s eyes. He tried so hard to keep all of his emotions built up inside. For others he tried to look as if he represented what all Jedi did: a symbol of peace. But he wasn’t powerful enough. So many Jedi and civilians were dead, and the man felt as if he could have done more.

His message to Auteme could have been sent quicker. If he hadn’t escaped the Temple, he could have defended against the Maw faster. His time could have been more dedicated to training himself, to become stronger and more powerful.

Yet none of this happened.

And so the Knight sat in the pile of rubble. His thoughts ran wild. Within the smoke, dust, and ash sat a man with one question for himself.

Was he truly a Jedi?

Open for interaction!

 

[Eboi Seth]

This was a dark day for Coruscant.

As soon as the delegations were finished the New Sith also known as the Brotherhood of the Maw quickly attacked Coruscant. Eboi was in his apartment when it happened. He watched in horror as the New Sith Order began to orbitally bombard the city, as the shocktroopers came to Eboi's room and began to evacuate. It was utter hell, the constant violent shaking, the torn limbs of citizens some who Eboi recognized lying everywhere as he and the other senators were fleeing the apartment. Eboi managed to duck and dodge stray blaster bolts Sith troopers as they hid in a bunker near the Chancellor's building. They spent hours huddled up along with injured citizens, enduring tremors coming from explosives hoping that it would pass.

After what felt like a century, an all clear was given and a flood of news was sent to Eboi's Holoprojector. The Chancellor whom Eboi chastised was hospitalized and in critical condition, her husband killed in battle. Now Eboi found himself back in the senate chamber along with other shell shocked senators. Part of him felt like going to war was necessary again but how can Eboi trust the Jedi? If there were any Jedi left? It didn't matter, it was 2 weeks and he was still trying to process it all. Right now the best course of action is just listen and assess.

 

[Taiia Locke]

//: Allyson Locke //: Dagon Kaze //: Black Mynock
//: Bernard //: Auteme //: Aaran Tafo //:

​

Taiia watched as Allyson pried the little droid from under the rubble, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she watched her with the droid. The smile faded when Allyson looked her way and pointedly questioned her she didn't care for the tone but she let it slide in light of what had just occurred "Kyyrk and I were escorting a Viceroy to Alliance space. We stopped in to visit a friend of Kyyrk's and then we heard the sirens, we made a beeline for the Temple once the fighting began. Once I heard you on the comm, I went to find you."

The redhead blinked at the speed at which her hand was grabbed and lead away by Allyson. Then the reality of the words hit her ears. The rest of the council. She blinked again. Allyson was on the council? Well, that certainly began to explain a few more details about the woman. Unlike the one leading her by the hand the redhead was taking in all the damage done as she followed behind, in all the fighting she hadn't seen what damage occurred yet now it was plain.

The fact that Allyson had her by the hand seemed to have escaped her or she simply didn't care. In truth, it felt natural so she didn't even pay it any attention. Green eyes continued to survey the damage. Allyson suddenly stopped and Taiia came to a stop before a group of men. She unsurprisingly knew none of them, she also caught a glimpse of a young woman who had run by, she didn't fully understand what had happened however she was sure if anyone fully did it would be the woman in front of her.

For now, Taiia simply remained a silent observer, it had been a long time since she had stood in a Jedi temple, under normal circumstances it might even have been called nostalgic but these were not normal circumstances. So the Obisidan Lord watched and listened, and at the same time wondered how she had gotten here.

​

 

[Aeris Lashiec]

Dagon Kaze // Allyson Locke // Black Mynock // Bernard // Taiia Locke

There was something so very hectic about how things were going. Knee jerk after knee jerk after knee jerk until even Aeris herself wanted to act out. Her hands tied into balled fists for a moment as Dagon explained himself, shifted over to the stranger that came into the room alongside Allyson, and then back to the Mynock-Man, or… Bat-Man or whatever. Emotions were high, the mood was low.

Sure, Aeris wanted the Alliance and Order to separate, but not like this.

As Allyson handed her the pad with the remaining twelve percent that never managed to get backed up and sent off-world, Aeris gave the woman a firm nod and pocketed the device before she stepped forward with a grim expression.

“I take it this means a separation from the GADF, too. Severed ties with the SIA. Retracting any and all fighters we have embedded in the Alliance’s navy, right?” She glared at Dagon and his friend, Bernard, and Allyson. Taiia was spared the glare, though her presence felt questionable at best. “You do not get to pick and choose which parts of this government you are and are not a part of. If you want to be part of the Alliance, you will have to accept all of it. We were placed under house arrest due to several crimes that were actually committed by the Jedi Order under the banner of the Alliance.”

“If we are allowed to operate outside of any jurisdiction we would do nothing but tarnish our own reputation and cause fear. Things could have gone better, because they sure as hell could not have gone worse.”

“Now what do we do about it? No pansy-footing around the issue, no nerfchit about our own self-righteous beliefs. Start giving solutions, not accusations.”

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Aaran Tafo — Aeris Lashiec — Allyson Locke — Bernard — Black Mynock — Dagon Kaze — Taiia Locke

Dark.

That was the first thing Cotan noticed when his eyes opened up again. It was dark. Not perfectly dark; there was still a little bit of light filtering through, illuminating the dust that was left unable to settle with his constant breath. The last thing he had noticed had been lightning on one side and blinding bright light on the other, and then the walls came crashing down, just barely kept from crushing him and Zark.

So that meant he was still buried. Him and Zark both. He felt around, trying to find his sword in the tenuously-balanced little pocket he'd managed to keep just barely open, to no avail. "Well, at least we lived, right Zark?" he asked, moving his hand over to where the Jedi Master should've been.

Empty space. "Zark?"

Empty space, but still darkness, as he turned to look. The elder man was gone without a trace. Cotan turned his head back, laying against the hard floor with a sigh. "You'd better not be dead, you son of a Murglak," he muttered—to no-one in particular, given the intended recipient's absence—and reached out with his other senses. His sword, at least, was nearby, and there were multiple Jedi all around. He could even hear the big guy stomping around, helping dig people out of the rubble.

"Hey, Caltin!" he called, to no response. "Caltin!" Nothing. He must've just noticed the man as he started walking off.

He sighed again, laying back and closing his eyes.

"I hate getting caught in the middle of these. First time I had to fall from the council spire and land in a fountain, this time I'm buried under the bloody entrance hall. What's next? The Dark Underlord crawls back out of Hell and throws the entire temple at me?" Continuing to grumble pointlessly, he brought both hands up under the titanic chunk of duracrete that was resting inches above his chest. There was no real way to gently lift it off of him without causing everything else to cave in and actually crush him; luckily, none of the nearby Jedi were any closer than about fifteen meters.

"Look out up above!" he yelled, unsure if anybody would hear him; then, reaching out, he started to focus as much energy as he could draw in around him, tenously held for one moment, two, three...

"Hintaro!"

He released the energy all at once, a massive telekinetic blast sending all of the debris above him—and a fair amount of what was around him—up into the air, flying back out towards the temple steps. Leaving him lying, breathless, at the center of a crater of his own construction, as Jedi came to stare over the edge of it at him. He waved weakly at them, netting a few disapproving looks from the older members. "What? I wasn't going to wait for you all to dig me out, that's for sure."

Cotan rolled over, pushing himself up to his feet. The hole he'd made for himself wasn't too terribly deep, but it was deeper than he was tall. Of course, nobody was offering to lift him out—more than a few of them had already turned away and started work elsewhere, seeing him get up—so he shook his head, and leaped up to the top. Just in time to see a pair struggling with one rock, trying to yank his sword out of it where it had luckily gotten stuck as the front of the temple caved in. Better than snapping it half.

"You're doing that wrong," he said to the pair trying to yank it out. "Here, watch." He stepped up, putting one hand on the hilt; at his touch, the blade began to show its icy blue glow once again. "See, you firmly grasp it, and pull." And without trouble, the blade came free for its master. He winked at the two, sheathing the blade—wincing at the shooting pains coming from his left forearm now that he had something to focus on other than getting out of a hole—and started walking back towards the council spire. At one intersection, he was sure he saw Auteme go running off down a different corridor, away from everybody else, and stopped to ponder that fact.

Before shaking his head, and deciding not to say anything as he continued along, managing to find a working turbolift up to the top of the council spire. Hopefully the rest of the Circle would be able to fill him in.

Assuming they weren't—

"Start giving solutions, not accusations."

—arguing.

He stopped outside the door, leaning against the side of it heavily. Every year, every decade, every century, the same problems. The same series of events. Different people, but the same reactions. He'd seen it just as much in his holocron as he had in stories from his master as he had when he was a Padawan dealing with Zark's generation as he had when he, Coren, and Romi were the ones at the front of everything as when he'd walked up to the Silver Council with Ryv...

Emotion, yet peace.

He breathed out, emptying his lungs of the breath he'd been holding. By the Force, they all made him feel so very old sometimes. No doubt he was going to get angry words, or at least glares, from the ones in the room he didn't recognize him, just as he didn't recognize every presence in there, but he'd stopped caring about that quite so much when he handed in his robes and left for Zonju V nearly twenty years before. Certainly by the time Coruscant was last attacked, already more than a decade ago.

It was weird to think about how time kept passing by, but he almost didn't seem to feel the effects, except in his mind. Funny how the Force worked. "Well, here goes nothing," he muttered, and raised his hand, knocking on the door. "Hello? Former Circle member, requesting entry, please!" He knocked again, more forcefully, and the door slid open as parts of the latch were knocked perfectly out of alignment.

Leaving Cotan standing there, first in empty air, with a dumb grin on his face.

"Oops." He looked around at the group, eyes stopping for one incredulous moment on Aelys, although he didn't let it show. The cocky, Outer Rim-style smirk had to be maintained for full effect.

"Am I interrupting something?"

 

[Bernard]

Coruscant, Jedi Temple Ruins
Circle Chambers

Taiia Locke // Caltin Vanagor // Black Mynock // Dagon Kaze // Aeris Lashiec // Cotan Sar'andor // Allyson Locke

The former Jedi Marshal still felt tense, and grew only tenser as more unknown faces entered the Chambers of the Council unbidden. So much was happening all at once. The reveal of Senator Kiyoshi, the Sith's attack on the temple, the Senate's drastic action, Coruscant burning, the return of a new Order of their ancient foes under the Brotherhood's banner, truths and accusations striking the council, and the sanctity of the Council Chambers was being breached further. Chaos burned all around him, and all remnants of peace flitted away like sand as he tried to hold on to what vestiges of it remained. The anger that simmered below it all began to fade as it gave way to worry, setting his mind spinning with the extent of the day's calamity.

He did his best to keep up with everything that was spoken, giving his attention to each person present. There was no time for despair, no time to let it all sink in, not now. Not while they needed action.

Breathing in a deep, steadying breath, he forced his thoughts to centre again. No Chaos, only Harmony. He relaxed visibly, and turned to the Master of the Silver Jedi present.

"Master Vanagor, your words and offer are greatly appreciated," he nodded to the Master, turning to address the other host of fires that required putting out.

"Allys—Master Locke, your companion?" He said it with an expectant tone, supposed to communicate it fell to the Paragon to escort her out. "And Knight Kaze, yours?" He said with the same tone.

The privacy of the council meeting had already been undermined, but Jedi were, at least, understandable, those of their own offered aid or sought answers in the face of this calamity. However, though this council was held among rubble and ash, Bernard couldn't stand for just anyone to interfere in the Temple's most hallowed chambers. These were matters of the Jedi Order, to be seen to by the Jedi and the Jedi alone.

He finally turned to address the council to consider the questions being posed, and decide on a course of action. The authority of the Alliance limited the Jedi's autonomy, preventing them from acting to the full scope their Order was capable of. Laws made for beings without the Force, for those who did not shoulder its responsibilities, necessarily impeded the ancient Order of peacekeepers whose powers granted them abilities beyond that of ordinary beings. Dagon was right, the heavy hand of the Senate squandered the potential of the Jedi, but did they not have a point?

Had it not been the New Jedi's own who had murdered a Senator in cold blood, and then defected to join with a Sith? And hadn't it been the same Jedi who'd pushed themselves near the breaking point, forced to take vows of exile to preserve the Order? And yet, they had accomplished such great things. The toppling of the Sith Empire, an evil that had gone unopposed for decades, finally brought to heel by the Jedi and the forces of the Triumvirate. They could do so again, to face this new threat, destroy the Brotherhood and their Dark servants, the New Sith Order.

But at what cost?

Bernard ran a hand through his hair, brushing back several loose strands that had fallen on his face. Finding some semblence of a centre again, when a loud knock announced another newcomer. He turned, perhaps a little too quickly, toward the man in the doorway, only to find an old friend. The levity in the man's expression was so incongruous with the storm that pounded Bernard's head, but he couldn't help and find it easing the tension that wound his muscles uncomfortably taut.

"Master Sar'andor, it's good to see you survived. I wasn't aware you were on Coruscant, you can," he paused, looking around. With a sigh, he continued, "come in. We are discussing our next steps."

"The first thing we do is stop blaming each other for this disaster, I agree," he gave Aeris a glance, nodding. "Our enemy has manipulated the Alliance, and they're sowing mistrust and infighting. Every second we waste doing like that is a victory for them. We need people we can trust right now, and I trust those who stand here," he met each Jedi's eyes in turn.

"Allyson has a point, we need Auteme, and we need to save those who need it right now. This attack was a devastating blow, we can't let our people bleed while we sit here. Master Vanagor, could you gather those survivors capable of rendering assistance and search the Temple grounds for anyone else who has survived? These will be trying times for us, many will be in need of aid and guidance following this attack."

His eyes settled on Dagon, "I know what it is you mean, Knight Kaze. I don't like the restrictions put on us either, but Master Lashiec has a point. With the history of our Order, the things that happened to Senator Bastra, the defection and instability in our ranks, and the," he paused a moment, glancing away in shame, "and the events of Korriban and the Sith War, we cannot simply cast off the restraints that bind us. Not until the New Jedi Order knows to act with duty and responsibility."

"That is why we need to rebuild, first. We don't have much time, but we need to do what we can to heal the rifts growing within, to face these new threats, united," he said, turning to Dagon and his companion. "Do you still stand with the council? I agree we need to—we must do better, but I cannot afford to lose more Jedi to infighting. Can I count on your blades?"

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

DECEIVED
OFFICE OF THE CHANCELLOR // SENATE BUILDING

Seto du Couteau | Faith Organa | Sssar Taszzn | Donavon Arturo | Veles Oshu | IVI

A cavalcade of committee chairs and party leaders filed into the Chancellor’s office, taking seats in the unspoken order of seniority. Their faces were familiar from his years with the Senator, but the exhausted looks they wore were new. The events of Coruscant weighed heavily on the shoulders of every legislator on Coruscant. “Ah, Senator Organa, a pleasure to see you well,” he declared. He’d heard that the Chair of the Health & Science Committee had been caught up in the fighting in the Senate building.

“Now, in this very moment as Coruscant smoulders around us, the Alliance asks but one thing of us - unity.” Tithe looked around at the assembled senators. “The air is thick with noise and, uhh, emotions.” His gaze fell to one of Adhira’s momentos yet to be packed up by his aides, a stark reminder of the tragic events that had unfolded. The holonews cycle had been dominated by anger, sorrow and guilt. The electors of their member worlds weren’t looking for emotionless droids, but they want someone to look to for stability.

The IGBC, represented by Dorian Harper, made their presence known. Tithe nodded in acknowledgment of their offer. “And we thank the Banking Clans for their unwavering support.” Indeed, he had fielded offers from Saro Nakaioma , Aiko Hayata and Gat Tambor , all offering their services to rebuild the ecumenopolis. Trade Federation droids were already clearing rubble from the Senate concourse.

Director M of the Strategic Intelligence Agency glided into the room. She cut straight to the chase with a directness he’d long respected, seeking his next steps. “The Jedi,” he replied, pausing to gather his thoughts. “The Jedi. The symbol of Light they carry will drive away lingering doubts. Their crimes, ohh their crimes, they can’t - and won’t - be forgotten. But right now, we need to stand beside them and carry the torch of hope.”

He looked back to his senatorial colleagues. “We need a statement, a spectacle, something our people can look to for hope. I welcome your, ah, learned counsel.”

 

[Black Mynock]

Return of the Jedi vol. I
Issue #4 - The Impossible Hour
Dagon Kaze
Auteme - Allyson Locke - Aeris Lashiec - Cotan Sar'andor - Caltin Vanagor - Bernard - Taiia Locke - Aaran Tafo

He could've strangled the Arkanian, he thought. Wrangled the life out of his body without his eyes turning a shade. Though he remained inert, more or less unmoving, as if frozen in place as he deigned to keep his mouth shut in those moments of talking. Should he respond in place of Dagon? Certainly, he had no tact, but, Dagon was emotionally compromised. Couldn't even look these people in the face.

Since he'd been back, they agreed on much, though it took some convincing to bring him around to his more... Extreme side of seeing things.

Question this, question that. The same inaction that got us here.

But he gave Dagon the time to answer, how he would. On this, they had a shared mind. Ties to a State, a Senate, willingly obeying when they were conscious of wrongdoing and evil at play.

They should've bust down the doors to that Senate.

A new face came in, one who could not say he knew. But she knew him, from the sound of it. Aside from an acknowledging rotation of his head, he gave no answer.

All the wit in the world, but they could not see the mistake in abiding a Senate mandate, knowing there were Sith at work. A stray thought went to the disguised Senator of Denon, back during the battle. Aelys wondered if he should've ransacked his office for more information - proof even - to see how much further the betrayal went. But it was likely that it was gone, in that briefcase the Sith had.

The blonde haired Councilor spoke - he really ought to know their names - and it was telling, that it was sarcasm. But he could not see the fault in it. It was the way things he had been, hadn't it? How many ruined, ancient Jedi Temples and Enclaves were scattered across the Galaxy? Both hidden and known. It only led him to believe that one point the Jedi were truly autonomous.

Not this falsehood that the Senate could pull from underneath them at any moment.

“Now what do we do about it? No pansy-footing around the issue, no nerfchit about our own self-righteous beliefs. Start giving solutions, not accusations.”

He thought to answer right away, to mock this Circle again, but he closed his mouth when the opportunity was open. A door slid open behind them - another Jedi - but he couldn't gather his thoughts. Instead, it was the Arkanian who spoke again, and Aelys, shot a look behind him to give an appraising look to the disheveled Master. He knew the man had made Ryv a Judge of the Outer Rim.

Whatever that meant.

But it seemed his time in the Circle was coming to an end. He referred to Dagon, about him, and he was already in the midst of shifting before Dag stopped him. A firm hand dropping on his shoulder before the Ruusan native spoke out.

"Mynock stays. He's one of us."

Behind the helmet, Aelys frowned, staring questioningly at his friend. He hadn't expressed wishes to come back, but deep down, he knew he had a job to do. He had to live up to his friend and mentor, and the promise he made him. To be better than he was, for he saw that within him. No matter how monumental that task was.

The Arkanian went on, perhaps begrudgingly, but nevertheless.

"That is why we need to rebuild, first. We don't have much time, but we need to do what we can to heal the rifts growing within, to face these new threats, united," he said, turning to Dagon and his companion. "Do you still stand with the council? I agree we need to—we must do better, but I cannot afford to lose more Jedi to infighting. Can I count on your blades?"

A sideways glance was exchanged with Dagon, but this time, he'd speak for himself. If he was going to stay, there was no point in hiding who he was. He supposed he could bite his tongue if there was a want to do better.

Armoured hands reached up, tugging that helmet up and off his head.

"Sure. Why not?" Aelys said. "Figure I may as well introduce myself. Names' uh, Aelys."

He didn't know most of them, definitely not on any personal terms. But if they knew Ryv, it was likely they would've noticed his boisterous thyrsian shadow, the Sword's first real Padawan, especially during that period when the War had resumed after Dantooine.

"And I think it's time to put an end to this Jedi Inquisition, led by a former Sith Moff."

 

[Valery Noble]

Shattered​

---

Location: Coruscant, lower levels
Valery: Appearance
Ship: Factory link
Tag: Aria Vestra Katarine Ryiah Yula Perl

Chapter IV: Back into the Chaos
After sending out her transmission, it remained quiet for just a moment, which didn't sit well with Valery. On approach, she had seen the smoke plumes rising from the Temple, and her earlier transmission after arriving wasn't answered. It almost made her believe she was the only Jedi still standing. But deep down, she knew this not to be true.

Moments later, her message was finally answered.

Hearing Aria Vestra 's voice over the comms made her sigh with relief. The Master's message, however, was cut short as a distress beacon activated, causing Valery to pause for a brief moment.

"I received the beacon as well, and will rendezvous with you there." she said and another brief moment of silence followed. She made sure her comms were open to all nearby receivers and continued.

"For anybody approaching the beacon, I advice caution. There are Sithspawn beasts in the streets. I've taken care of one in this area already but there may be more." The Distress beacon could be anything, and totally unrelated to these beasts attacking civilians. But she felt the warning was important - enough Jedi lives had been lost already.

With the warning given, Valery quickly began to move towards the source of the beacon. She hoped they'd all be in time to help whoever was out there, and she knew that together, they could make a bigger difference out here in the streets of Coruscant.

 

[Dagon Kaze]

THE IMPOSSIBLE HOUR
THE GREAT ERROR vol. II
Issue #1

Knight Kaze, Dagon...

"Dag... Dag's just fine." he barely whispered. Honorifics had never been much of a thing among the New Jedi growing up and hearing his full name always felt... distant.

The room gradually filled up with a number of Jedi and others - each one throwing a question or two, a lecture or three, a remark or four. Dagon hadn't expected anything else, and while the emotional tide inside was turbulent his face remained stolid. He had to remain composed, yet unyielding, decisive. Like Aeris had said - no more pansy-footing. He felt Aelys twitch beside him and feared the man would take that literally, the way Thyrsians often did but instead he opted to do something the Knight did not expect - reveal his identity.

It was time for Dag to reveal his intentions coming here, beyond levying an ultimatum to his friend.

"I don't think you guys understand - Auteme wasn't pushed away. She chose her path." a frown crossed his features as he addressed a common pattern in the concerns by three of the Jedi.

"And maybe it's for the better." he sure hoped so.

His blood boiled when Aeris and Bernard brought up the case of the war crimes - the same case that had led to the lockdown. The Jedi nearly snapped but managed to bite his tongue through clenched fists.

"You can always count on my blade to fight the Sith, Bernard, but the Jedi can no longer be held accountable for their actions by a system that does not understand the Dark Side and its mentally ill servants." he said, an undertone of sharpness sneaking through his voice. A glance at his best friend - Aeris - and his features softened, if only briefly, "The Alliance... this system - it's essential... but... it's never enough. Being bound by it fully led us here in the first place. We knew the Senate's compromised by the Sith. And not only the Senate. You know that very well, Bernard. I know that."

...investigated in crime by a former Sith Moff...

"No one in that building..." his hand gestured at the Senate Building in the distance, "...knows the Dark Side - the Sith - like we do, no one there knows how to fight them. We've done it once before, we can do it again but not like this. Held back. Shackled."

Auteme Black Mynock Aeris Lashiec Bernard Allyson Locke Aaran Tafo Cotan Sar'andor Taiia Locke Caltin Vanagor

 

[Aeris Lashiec]

Dagon Kaze // Black Mynock // Allyson Locke // Bernard // Caltin Vanagor // Taiia Locke // Cotan Sar'andor // Aaran Tafo

A scruffy nerf-herder or something, alongside the shape of Caltin Vanagor, a man she had somehow managed to miss. Aeris’ nerves were tangling up something bad. She needed a moment to catch her breath but piece for piece just kept stacking up. Sarcastic remarks, everyone wondering if they were interrupting something as if that wasn’t obvious enough at first glance. Former member of the Circle or no, this man was— actually, who the hell cared? Not about who she was, but that they were here. Things were already at such a low that there was hardly any way that whatever was said in this room had any form of impact.

Bernard spoke wisdom in trying to usher them out but it was most likely going to be in vain. Didn’t take a genius to figure out that whoever the other individuals were, whether it was Dagon’s friend or Allyson’s, they had some form of weight behind them that made the former want the latter there. What was said here would be spoken to them afterwards either way, and the Silver Jedi had a right to be here. Even former Circle members.

Aeris slowly closed her eyes and let in a deep breath. This frustration would do her no favors, but as that name dropped — Aelys — she stopped for a second before her lips split in a slow exhale. It was okay, she would be okay, it was the post-immediate-life-or-death rattles kicking in.

Obviously, who cared that this man was Ryv’s apprentice? Well, Aeris clearly did. It was by no means a surprise to anyone that she didn’t see Ryv in any positive light, at least not to the same extent as his friends did. The reveal brought on another layer to this cake she had no desire to eat. On the surface Aeris might have looked calm spaghetti, but on the inside she was anything but.

She wanted to speak up, say something nasty or just break her own request for ‘solutions’ but caught Dagon’s glance as he was about to enter a rant and—

And she sighed yet again. All this emotion, these opinions, these ideas of his. Today wouldn’t be the day that she convinced him of why they were a bad idea, and more than anything it would do no-one well if she lashed out. There would be differences of opinions, she disliked Ryv but it wasn’t in her place to tell what others could or could not believe.

Even if she really, really wanted to.

“It is not about understanding the dark side, and if it is then we need to teach them how.” Aeris spoke with a renewed center of being and a clearer mind as the stress cracked and rolled off her shoulders in little pieces. “This is about knowing why we fight. If we allow ourselves to believe that we, as Jedi, are the only ones that can stand up to the Sith then we have already lost.”

“These ‘shackles’ are only there because of how entrenched we are in their political ecosystem.” Aeris said and glanced at the people around them. “The only way to regain our autonomy is to pull back from not just the senate but every other part of the Alliance and act as a third-party.”

 

[Auteme]

Jacen Nimdok
​

It took some time for Auteme to realize someone was nearby, a while longer to figure out who it was, and even longer to calm down enough to speak. Still, she didn't know what she could tell him at this point. She sputtered and sneezed. Then, she asked a question.

"Do you have any water?"

 

[Elizie Athacorr]

Deceived

Aerarii Tithe Veles Oshu Sssar Taszzn Faith Organa Donavon Arturo IVI
​

And just as she had said before the attack had come, the Alliance and the Jedi still stood. Beaten up certainly, but they still stood. The government was intact, although the Chancellor was in critical condition and Aerarii was acting Chancellor, perhaps even permanently depending on what Chandra decided or if she pulled through. The Jedi Temple was damaged, but the core of the Order was alive, the future with the younglings had been evacuated. The city planet was scarred, and the Brotherhood had unleashed some beasts into the lower levels, but that was nothing new either. The One Sith had done the same in their day, and those creatures had been more impressive than what her agents were reporting were now down below.

At the end of the day, the short term gain of such an attack may have only stirred a tired giant back to full action... and provided opportunities.

Ostensibly, she had been back on Arkania to consult with the Dominion about the detention of the New Jedi Order to their temple and had been on her way back when the attack came. At least, that was what it would have appeared as thanks to Soraya wearing the mask while she had been occupied on Tython. Now, she was on her way to the Chancellor's office to offer support to the new man in charge. She might not be a committee chair, yet, or a party leader, but she had been part of the investigations into the Jedi's actions against the Sith Empire and had wanted to see bonds of trust rebuilt, as much as she had pushed during the interviews.

She arrived just as Chancellor Tithe addressed what the Chiss Director of the SIA had brought up about the Jedi and their next steps. She caught sight of Dorian in the room already as well, already bringing the IGBC to the table. He saw it as she did then.

"That is good news to hear, Chancellor, that we will be trying to re-forge trust with the New Jedi Order," she said in greeting. "I spoke with the Dominion and we have some of our scientists on the way to help with the medical situation on world, as well as studying a quick way to deal with the beasts the Maw set loose in the lower levels."