Become One With All Things
Peace
Sometime before the attack on Jedha and Jakku...
Dust covered halls waited patiently for his return. Specters haunted these corridors, formed from the memories of happier times. Times spent in preparation for something greater than any one Jedi could accomplish. Dreams were born here, held aloft by those hopeful few. Those dreams fell apart when the Jedi could not come together. The Silver Jedi sought unity under their terms. The Core Alliance would not blindly follow those who abandoned the Core once, especially when they refused the cooperation of the High Republic. Left to their own devices, a young generation of Jedi struck out on their own. They lacked the guidance of an older, wiser generation. All they had was a desire to do better. To be better.
Had they succeeded?
Corin stopped at the meeting chamber's vast entryway. He ran a hand along the wall to his right, ignorant of the dust kicked up in his passing. Dozens of seats circled a central podium once used by his missing mentor, Wyatt Morga.
Corin's eyes wandered past, seeking a familiar corner where he and his master, Cedric Grayson, stood apart from the others. Cedric hadn't been popular among the others of their kind. His imperialistic views marked him as an outsider to the more democratic minded Jedi. Those unaware of his political views found the scarred man unbecoming of their path. He faced threats as he'd been raised to. Head on, saber held high. A warrior's pride drove him to be the best. A pride he passed on to his young apprentice, Ryv Karis.
Now standing upon the podium, Corin turned a circle. He studied the empty room in silence, his features stoic.
Everything had been easier here on Peace. The only decisions he ever made were related to cleaning tasks or droid maintenance. Yet, others followed him. Auteme, Aaron, Loske, Maynard... Inspired by whatever sense of purpose he found in these hallowed halls, they stood at his side through dozens of battlefields, upon dozens of planets. When Wyatt burdened the young knight with the title of Sword, he could always rely on the bonds forged within these halls.
Corin spent the following years questioning whether or not he lived up to the expectations of his former mentors and closest allies.
The Sith Empire fell nearly a decade after their departure from Peace. Betrayal came next. The Alliance turned their back on him, then the Order he founded. With the dissolution of the Triumvirate, tensions were sure to rise. Would these problems fall on the shoulders of the New Jedi Order?
Corin frowned, lowered himself to his knees, and fell into silent meditation.
Answers would come with time.
Sometime before the attack on Jedha and Jakku...
Dust covered halls waited patiently for his return. Specters haunted these corridors, formed from the memories of happier times. Times spent in preparation for something greater than any one Jedi could accomplish. Dreams were born here, held aloft by those hopeful few. Those dreams fell apart when the Jedi could not come together. The Silver Jedi sought unity under their terms. The Core Alliance would not blindly follow those who abandoned the Core once, especially when they refused the cooperation of the High Republic. Left to their own devices, a young generation of Jedi struck out on their own. They lacked the guidance of an older, wiser generation. All they had was a desire to do better. To be better.
Had they succeeded?
Corin stopped at the meeting chamber's vast entryway. He ran a hand along the wall to his right, ignorant of the dust kicked up in his passing. Dozens of seats circled a central podium once used by his missing mentor, Wyatt Morga.
Corin's eyes wandered past, seeking a familiar corner where he and his master, Cedric Grayson, stood apart from the others. Cedric hadn't been popular among the others of their kind. His imperialistic views marked him as an outsider to the more democratic minded Jedi. Those unaware of his political views found the scarred man unbecoming of their path. He faced threats as he'd been raised to. Head on, saber held high. A warrior's pride drove him to be the best. A pride he passed on to his young apprentice, Ryv Karis.
Now standing upon the podium, Corin turned a circle. He studied the empty room in silence, his features stoic.
Everything had been easier here on Peace. The only decisions he ever made were related to cleaning tasks or droid maintenance. Yet, others followed him. Auteme, Aaron, Loske, Maynard... Inspired by whatever sense of purpose he found in these hallowed halls, they stood at his side through dozens of battlefields, upon dozens of planets. When Wyatt burdened the young knight with the title of Sword, he could always rely on the bonds forged within these halls.
Corin spent the following years questioning whether or not he lived up to the expectations of his former mentors and closest allies.
The Sith Empire fell nearly a decade after their departure from Peace. Betrayal came next. The Alliance turned their back on him, then the Order he founded. With the dissolution of the Triumvirate, tensions were sure to rise. Would these problems fall on the shoulders of the New Jedi Order?
Corin frowned, lowered himself to his knees, and fell into silent meditation.
Answers would come with time.
Dagon Kaze
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Ripley Kühn
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Creuat
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Zaka
| Watchmen + NJO Welcome