Faction Dire Times Make for Drastic Solutions [NJO & DIA]

[Spirit of the Dawn]

​

Time is running out until the Galactic Empire unleashes PROJECT: STARDUST upon the galaxy. When and where remains a mystery, but the Galactic Alliance works tirelessly in preparation for the fateful day. Three planets have already been lost to such wanton destruction. Trillions of lives—perhaps more—wiped out across Csilla, Panatha, and Exegol. And that is counting only the successful attacks.

Darth Solipsis' failed attempts on Coruscant and Tython still claimed countless others in the defense. Innocents across Alliance space wait with bated breaths each day, living in fear of the arrival of planet-wide doom.

In answer, varied elements across the galaxy prepare for STARDUST. Imperial forces, Jedi Knight, Sith-Imperial agents, and rebel cells gather their strength in the final days leading up to the attack. While many prepare for the horrors to come, what remains of the New Jedi Order strike out in preparation for what comes after the superweapon.

Months after a budding rebellion within Diarchy space meets its end, members of the New Jedi Order travel to Bastion—the seat of the Diarchy's power. Supported in secret by Senator Feridade Parthi of Eshan, the Jedi seek to determine the state of the Diarchy in the aftermath of the rebellion. Many within the Senate question the possibility of an alliance with the neighboring nation, but the Diarchs' recent attack on Hapes leads others to believe it an impossibility.

Delegates sent by the New Jedi Order descend upon Bastion under the cover of a great storm. Guided by old allies installed in the wake of the Sith Empire's defeat many years ago, the Jedi enter Ravelin to discern the true nature of the Diarchy's reign...

 

[Diarch Rellik]

The storm rolled in heavy over Bastion, cresting like a black sea against the towering silhouette of Aurora Station. From the High Council chamber at the summit of the Crucible of Order, Rellik watched the skies flash with white fire. Rain lashed the spire's windows, but it was not the weather that made his breath catch.

Through the veil of lightning, he saw them. Shapes within the storm. Ships.

For the briefest instant his vision burned with memory: the bombardment of the Empire of the Lost, fire raining from the heavens, stone shattering, Bastion's streets drowned in chaos. The parents who arrived the next day asking if their children had been found... The scars of that day had never left him, and in that heartbeat they tore open again. His hand curled into a fist.

Opening up his command commlink that went out directly to all High Councilors, the Network, Diarchy army and Navy the Diarch nearly screamed. "FULL ALERT!! BATTLE STATIONS CODE BLACK" The words snapped from his tongue like thunder. "Raise the planetary shields, arm our ground to space cannons, and bring every garrison to readiness."

The planet erupted in motion as officers rushed to relay commands. Alarms rolled out across Ravelin, a chorus of vigilance echoing through the storm. Bastion would not be caught unguarded again.

But even as his orders rippled outward, Rellik drew a breath and steadied himself. At his gesture, a holotable in the chamber bloomed to life, casting shimmering blue projections of the storm-tossed ships above Aurora Station. Officers clustered around the feed, streams of data scrolling across their displays.

"Identification?" Rellik demanded.

A naval officer stepped forward, bowing his head before answering. "Galactic Alliance signatures, my lord. Frigates and transports. Not nearly enough to attempt a planetary assault. Their posture reads as… diplomatic entry."

The tension in Rellik's jaw eased a fraction, though his eyes remained hard. "Diplomatic," he repeated, the word edged with skepticism.

"Open a secure channel," he ordered at last, turning back toward the storm-lit windows. "Link me with Aurora Station's command deck and my brother, wherever he stands. If the Alliance thinks to step foot on Bastion, they will do so before both Diarchs."

The holoprojectors flickered as comms relays aligned, the storm outside casting lightning across the chamber's marble floor. Rellik stood tall, cloak trailing at his heels, as the first connection pulses hummed to life.

Spirit of the Dawn Laphisto Diarch Reign

 

[Kyric]

Among the Jedi tasked with this reconnaissance, Kyric stood quietly within the cockpit of the descending freighter. Gray-black clouds coated the ship in a blanket of darkness. Part of him suspected it wouldn't be enough to mask their entry. With the galaxy in an ever-present state of conflict, few powers rose to the top in their bid for galactic supremacy. Those that could were smart. Prepared for danger; ready to face it at a moment's notice.

He knew not the state of this mysterious Diarchy, but his prior experience over Hapes provided him enough insight to know them unafraid of direct conflict.

"There," Kyric placed a cold metallic hand atop the shoulder of their pilot. He pointed to a starport within Ravelin with the other, visible from above due to the mass of ships coming and going from the monolithic structure. "Set us down on an external dock. It should make for a quick getaway if things go south."

"Are you expecting things to go south, Master Jedi?" Siyno asked. The pilot was a nautolan woman borrowed out from Parthi's personal employ. Her history in the Second Great Hyperspace War suggested a competent and reliable wing. And thus far, she hadn't let them down.

Kyric shrugged. "Better safe than sorry. Besides, I like the rain."

Unbeknownst to the Jedi, greater forces moved in preparation for their arrival.

The Comet dropped from atmosphere overtop the city. Siyno hailed an incoming transmission and brokered no argument when nearby starfighters moved into position to flank the ship. The Comet was a clean vessel. No links to criminal or military usage, meaning the codes, once scanned, provided little in the way of allegiance.

"I'm getting a bad feeling about this," Siyno muttered.

"Its Bastion," Kyric countered. "Few planets in the galaxy rival its defenses. Stay calm. The Diarchy employs Force Users to their purposes. Yer feelings will betray ya' if yer not careful."

Once the ship touched down on the platform and the ramp descended, Kyric offered the pilot one last reassuring pat and turned to depart the cockpit. He nodded to Jand Talo and moved for the ramp alongside the nagai.

"How's it feel? This is yer first mission bearin' the title of Sword, ain't it?"

The rain was welcoming compared to the silhouettes waiting on the edge of the platform. They stood between them and the entrance to the port, statuesque in demeanor.

---

Tags: Diarch Rellik | Diarch Reign | Open to More Jedi & Diarchy Enjoyers

 

[Jand Talo]

The freighter descended, the hum of the engines vibrating through the hull, as Jand stood quietly in the hold area. His mind wandered, his focus not on the flight, but on the meeting ahead - a gathering with a group he didn’t trust. The Diarchy, they called themselves. And since Jand's service to the Jedi had taken him to the other side of the galaxy, in skirmishes and wars against the Sith, he had had to rely on others to assure him of the situation with those they would meet on Bastion.

Beyond that, the whispers of a superweapon loomed in his thoughts. A grave threat to the entire galaxy. He had also inherited a new title, Sword of the New Jedi Order, but was it truly his place to wield such power, to act in that capacity, when others disagreed - or outrightly opposed - the appointment? His mind wandered to the Lightsworn; they had proven very direct in their opinion. But, Jand suspected that they were opposed to anything the New Jedi did...

I should speak to friends. Seek their thoughts.

Jand's thoughts were interrupted as the freighter landed with a soft thud. The door to the cockpit opened, and Kyric walked into the larger space, where Jand turned to meet him. The rampway descended, the Jedi exited, and the Nagai glanced to Kyric as the other mentioned the Sword title. Despite still thinking about the implications and how he felt, Jand responded as he always did, with stoicism and fact.

"It will be, yes," Jand nodded. "I remain unsure about how I feel. What I do know, however, is that I will uphold the honor of the title and do everything in my power to be worthy of it. How do you feel? I understand the Lightsworn, in particular, were very vocal about your position regarding the title."

Ahead, Jand saw movement - possibly security - and casually let his hand brush against his lightsaber hilt. It remained secured to his right hip. The rain distorted and blurred much, but at least the weapon at his side allowed clarity should it be needed. Jand reached up and pulled the hood of his cloak up, to better keep the water from his face and eyes.

"And with the Diarchy, you are certain of this position engaging them? I am not familiar, though I am willing to trust your opinion, given the threat the galaxy faces from the Empire."

Nonetheless, Jand kept pace with Kyric and would follow his fellow Jedi into what happened next...

Kyric | Diarch Rellik | Diarch Reign​

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Ravelin | En Route to the spaceport
Tags: Kyric Diarch Rellik Laphisto Jand Talo
Gear: Amulet of the Warden's Eye, Bladefather

---

Reign had been heading to the spaceport to meet a diplomat from a nearby border planet about potentially joining the Diarchy. It was merely coincidence he happened to be near when the Jedi arrived. As he received the comms from his brother he quickly changed route, having an aide apologize to the diplomat.

“I’m on route brother, meet you there”

Reign arrived at the designated area and waited for his brother to arrive. His black and gold uniform looking a severe as always.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

The storm beat heavy over Bastion. Floodlamps cast pale light across the spaceport's rain-slick stone as the shuttle set down and hissed open. From its ramp came the Preservers of the Brotherhood, guardians of the Crucible of Order and last line of defense for the Diarchy's most sacred places.

They formed in two columns that framed the Diarch's path. To his right, warriors armored in black and crimson, the Dark Side clinging to them like a mantle, their very presence a weight in the Force. To his left, guardians clad in white and gold, luminous even in the storm, radiating calm and measured strength.

And between them walked Rellik. Cloak trailing across the wet ground, his stride was steady, unhurried. Lightning caught his eyes, gilding them in molten gold that glinted warm, yet faintly edged with something darker beneath. A smile traced his lips as he advanced, the living embodiment of Bastion's creed: command not by Light or Dark alone, but by walking the narrow line between.

Ahead, two Jedi at the bottom of their ramp, cloaks drawn tight, rain dripping from their hoods. He felt the Echani's unease, sharp and taut as drawn steel, hand brushing the hilt at his side. Beyond them stood Reign, already present, surely to come over now that his brother was here.

Rellik raised a hand. The Preservers halted as one, twin columns standing sentinel behind him, unyielding symbols of balance and authority. The Diarch alone stepped forward from their ranks, cloak whispering at his heels as the rain struck hard upon his shoulders.

"Welcome to Bastion," he called, voice carrying warm through the thunder. His smile lingered, broad and inviting. He waved his hand up in a welcoming gesture. Approaching still but moving his hands behind his back in a consular style pose. "I am Diarch Rellik, honored to be visited by you. Please, come with me to a drier place where we may talk... if you want to talk that is."

He did not show any signs of his saber. He was nothing but cordial. The only sign he was a "Bad" person was the shining gold of his eyes.

Kyric Jand Talo Diarch Reign - And any others who would like to join!

 

[Laphisto]

The storm swallowed the landing pad in darkness, its downpour drumming against durasteel and stone in a relentless rhythm. Lightning raked the sky overhead, painting the spire of Bastion in brief, violent flashes. The Diarch's voice carried calm and cordiality through the tempest, but even as his offer lingered in the air, the storm answered with something else.

It began with a sound. Not thunder. Not rain. A sharp, mechanical click. Then another. And another. Ten in perfect unison. It was the snap of safeties re-engaging, the sound of kill-orders rescinded. The rifles had been primed the moment the visitors arrived; Rellik's words had stayed them. The soldiers had not lowered their weapons, only locked their triggers, as if acknowledging that for now these ones would be allowed to breathe.

The sound did not come from one place. It came from everywhere at once. Lightning illuminated four silhouettes clinging to the sheer wall of the structure Rellik had emerged from, and before the echo of thunder faded, they moved. The soldiers walked straight down the vertical plane as though gravity itself no longer bound them, harnesses whispering against stone. At the bottom they dropped together, boots striking the flooded ground with a single, resonant thud, and they rose as one, faceless and silent, advancing to fall behind the Diarch.

Two more emerged from the curtain of rain on the far left of the pad, their counterparts mirroring them on the right, while stormlight rippled like liquid silver across the black plates of their armor. None moved and none spoke, the pair on each side simply anchoring the platform in a cage of angles.
The final two revealed themselves last, not from shadow or from the walls, but from beneath the Jedi's own vessel. They had been there all along, lying in wait with the patience of carrion birds, their forms masked by storm and silence until the hiss of the freighter's hydraulics drowned the subtle scrape of armor against metal. When they moved, it was without flourish or haste, sliding out from under the belly of the ship as if they had always belonged to its shadow.

At first, they were nothing more than shapes at the edge of vision phantoms in the corner of the Jedi's perception, half-formed outlines where the rain fell strangely thin. Then, with a shift of lightning, the illusion shattered, and the soldiers stepped fully into sight. Rifles lifted in unison, they advanced in perfect measure, their path cutting directly across the Jedi's periphery.

They did not turn their heads. They did not acknowledge the figures they passed. Their silence was not hostile, but it was not indifferent either; it was the silence of inevitability, of executioners certain of their ground. Every step past the Jedi carried a message deeper than words: this was not a negotiation. The pad was theirs. It had always been theirs. And the intruders had only been permitted to stand upon it by choice, not by right.

Ten soldiers with ten rifles locked the field in a perfect kill box, and yet through it all there was nothing. To the Force they did not exist. No ripples, no intent, and no spark betrayed them. If the Jedi looked with their eyes, they would see soldiers with rain-slick armor glinting under floodlamps and stormlight, but if they closed their eyes they would feel only the downpour. These were not men merely trained to resist the Force, nor were they blanks like ysalamiri. They were phantoms carved from absence itself, utterly severed and utterly wrong, their voidlike presence pressing down on the landing pad heavier than the storm.

From the silent ranks one figure peeled forward. His steps were deliberate, each bootfall nearly swallowed by the hiss of rain, until he came to stand at Rellik's left shoulder with crisp posture and movements so precise they bordered on inhuman. A distorted voice carried from the vox of his helmet, low and metallic: "High Commander marked the ships the moment they broke orbit. One of the defense platforms flagged them as suspect. He judged it too great a risk to broadcast feared even a trace could be compromised. He was already en route to your office, sir."

The soldier's helmet dipped once, a precise acknowledgment, before he became still again. Rain coursed down the black plates in rivulets, reflecting stormlight like oil-slick glass. They wore the LO-62C Commando configuration, a design not built for spectacle but for something far more unsettling. The armor bore no crests or embellishments, every line sharp and utilitarian, the uniform of executioners polished to anonymity. More than simple protection, the plating acted as insulation, reinforcing what was already unnatural in the men themselves: a total and irrevocable severance from the Force.

The effect on the Jedi was immediate and visceral. It settled in the pit of their stomachs as a sensation that crawled like ice beneath the skin. These soldiers were not merely hidden, nor simply absent. They were cut loose. No thread of the living weave touched them, and when one reached outward with the Force the only answer was recoil, as if the current itself refused to acknowledge them. It was not the emptiness of cortosis or the blank of a ysalamir, but something worse: a wound in reality that would not close.

Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik Kyric Jand Talo

 

[Aknoby]

The red-haired boy stood two metres away from Laphisto, giving the leader of the Lislate Order space to move around while giving orders.

Aknoby would occasionally glance at the man or one of the monitors, breathing slowly to stay calm and keep his presence as unnoticeable as possible to the Jedi.

Being his first time in a military operation, he was slightly nervous, but his trust in Laphisto, Iandre, and others not only from the Order but also from the Diarchy helped him remain sufficiently calm, except for the moments when he stared at Iandre out of the corner of his eye. Seeing her so disciplined did not help much for some reason.

Inside himself, the nameless Sith Ghost remained completely camouflaged, using the boy's presence to camouflage him from the old order. At the same time, seeing how the Diarchy behaved in front of the Jedi intrigued him, even making him think about cooperating with this group so different from Force Users. The ghost smiled, or at least as much as a being in his state could do.

However, Aknoby feels a chill down his spine and looks around, rubbing his back with his right hand, without understanding the reason for the chill.

Laphisto Iandre Athlea

 

[Kyric]

"I remain unsure about how I feel. What I do know, however, is that I will uphold the honor of the title and do everything in my power to be worthy of it. How do you feel? I understand the Lightsworn, in particular, were very vocal about your position regarding the title."

"I'm glad its you, personally," Kyric admitted with no hesitation. "My father lived and died beneath the weight of that title. He knew no peace in his service to the Light, and he wanted nothin' more fer me than to walk a different path."

The burden of expectation hung heavy on many a Jedi Knight. Few who took on the title in these trying times would ever know true peace, but the name Karis—as Henna so astutely put it—was synonymous with the title of Sword. Kyric's father ensured his enemies never forgot his actions. And now his son lived to endure the consequences of the late Sword of the Jedi.

"The Sword stands not only fer the innocent, but fer the Jedi, too. Ya've done a good job of that so far. Just remember it when yer backs against the wall and yer starin' down the impossible."

What Kyric initially hoped to be a melodramatic welcoming party revealed their true nature shortly after the two Jedi stepped off the ramp. On one side of them, closest to the starport itself, a twin-procession marched forward, headed by Diarch Rellik himself. On the other side, Diarch Reign departed his ship and stood vigil over the now surrounded Jedi Knights.

"Welcome to Bastion," he called, voice carrying warm through the thunder. His smile lingered, broad and inviting. He waved his hand up in a welcoming gesture. Approaching still but moving his hands behind his back in a consular style pose. "I am Diarch Rellik, honored to be visited by you. Please, come with me to a drier place where we may talk... if you want to talk that is."

Further dangers revealed themselves with each passing second.

Ten soldiers perfectly placed in a display of military precision appeared in groups one after another. The dark night and downpour provided a measure of cover to the lot of them, nearly masking the absence with which they presented in the Force.

"Curious," Kyric said after a moment of quiet contemplation. "These are dangerous times, I'll be the first to admit. But this feels a bit much, no?"

He waved a metallic hand and the rain stopped—or so it seemed. Closer examination revealed a dome-like stasis field placed over the entirety of the landing pad. It emitted a silver-white light infused with the harmonious energies of the Ashla.

"I was just about to assure my companion here the importance of trustin' the lot of ya'. Given the threat presented by the likes of Darths Solipsis an' Empyrean." Kyric moved forward with the serenity one expected of a Jedi Knight. His left hand rested on the pommel of a sheathed blade on the same side, while he hooked the thumb of his prosthetic hand to his belt.

"Come ta' talk we do, your eminence. Please, lead the way."

The stasis field dropped away at that and the rain descended with the fury of a waterfall for a few short seconds.

---

Jand Talo | Diarch Rellik | Diarch Reign | Laphisto | Aknoby | Iandre Athlea

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Robes

Mykel lingered within the freighter for a little longer as Tand and Karis departed, the Consular studying sensor readouts with a look of bemusement. Ever since reversion, the humble freighter had been endlessly pinged by all manner of early warning and targeting sensors. On the surface, matters hadn't improved, lifeform scanners now detecting units converging on their position shortly after touchdown.

While he certainly hadn't expected the red carpet to be rolled out for the Jedi, all the hardware now arrayed toward them, seen and unseen, seemed a tad excessive. For all of the bristling, the clandestine delegation might as well had arrived in a Dreadnought.

Despite the initial frosty reception, he still hoped for the best, having a few friends within the Diarchy.

"Keep the shield capacitors spooled, and the engines primed for a quick start," he instructed the lead pilot, then pulled up a holographic map on center console. "Tactically speaking, we're in a pickle if we do find ourselves at the end of our gracious hosts' hospitality, but if it comes to that then egress here..." he highlighted a route on the map. "And then rendezvous with us here. Otherwise, sit tight and help yourselves to the snacks I brought along."

Finally, he left the ship to catch up with the other Knights ahead, slipping on his cloak before the stepping outside. Despite the horrid weather, the Consular's clothing remained bone dry as the precipitation gently swirled around him. The now hooded man offered a small wave to the Diarchy forces gathered in observation, both to those near and far.

Kyric Jand Talo Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik Laphisto Aknoby Iandre Athlea Xian Xiao

 

[Jand Talo]

Jand nodded at Kyric.

"I understand," he said slowly, before he regarded the other more closely. "I recall hearing of your father's exploits. I hope to inspire the same in both the Jedi and those we protect, or at least as close as I am able. I will be interested to see your path, now that your burden has been lifted."

Yet, further discussion was cut short, as the Diarchy presence made itself known. A retinue to safeguard leadership was understandable, yet even Jand had to admit the procession that kept revealing itself was beyond words, because if a show of force was desired, they had metaphorically presented a Death Star. Soldiers upon soldiers upon commandos, all wearing an assortment of armors and carrying various weaponry, they all appeared dangerous in their own way.

Hm.

Jand wondered if the reason was due to the uncertain situation with the Galactic Empire, and needing to take precautions, or if it was simply to intimidate. Either way, the Nagai remained still and observed those around him. His eyes passed over the crimson and black clad guards, sensing the dark side within them, which immediately had Jand question the validity of the proposed alliance. Aligning with morally ambiguous individuals had been a dividing factor in the past, but Kyric had also provided fairly pragmatic reasons for the idea - millions were threatened by the Stardust superweapon, they were ultimately who the Jedi had to protect, even if they had to seek unorthodox alliances.

Kyric voiced Jand's thoughts, essentially.

"I am inclined to consider this less a display of intimidation," Jand said, as he looked to Diarch Rellik. "And more a parade of what the Diarchy can use to help save millions of lives. Yes?"

Still, Jand was ready; if the Diarchy took aggressive action, he would be upon their leader fractions of a second later.

But, it remained to be seen if it came to that.

When the rain ceased, Jand glanced up, noting the stasis field. It was, in its own way, a demonstration of how the Jedi could affect many things at once... and that was with one individual. Let alone three, as Mykel descended the rampway to join the small group of New Jedi. There was a nod to the other Jedi, as Jand glanced back, but then soon followed the procession to the supposed meeting space.

"I am Jand Talo, Jedi Knight and Sword of the Jedi," the Nagai said, the title still seeming odd to his lips. "You appear well prepared for unwanted visits, Diarch Rellik. Are you anticipating Imperial assault? Or are you cautious of any outsiders?"

Kyric | Diarch Rellik | Diarch Reign | Laphisto | Aknoby | Mykel Dawson​

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik's smile did not falter, even as the rain broke against Kyric's shimmering barrier. For a moment his golden eyes lingered upward, following the dome's silver-white curve, watching the storm pressed back by the will of one man. "An impressive talent," he remarked, voice calm, the words carrying just enough weight to suggest genuine interest. His gaze returned to the Jedi. Yet, he wondered its limits. If it could handle what the Sith or Imperials could send their way. There was a ting of doubt based on his personal experience.

He stepped forward, cloak dragging lightly through the rain-slick stone, pausing eerily close to the now three Jedi. Yet, the Diarch bowed his head. "If our welcome seemed excessive, forgive us. These are dangerous times, and we have learned caution the hard way. We want nothing more across the whole galaxy than to save lives... As well it is an honor to meet you Jand and your compatriots." With a glace towards the commando's now with them he continued. "The Lilaste Order, stands with us as equals, with its own will, its own rights. So forgive that multiple parties are interested in keeping our sector safe. Similar to your Order and the Lightsworn in a way. We have been on high alert ever since our home was bombarded and they take that duty... very seriously."

Then the low growl of repulsorlifts rolled across the pad. Headlamps cut through the rain as an armored speeder pulled into view, its plating gleaming wet beneath the floodlamps. It came to a steady halt at the edge of the platform, and a uniformed driver dismounted quickly to pull the side door wide.

The Diarch turned back to the Jedi, his expression warm.

"The Crucible of Order awaits us," he said evenly. "It is... our temple. There, we can speak plainly, with dry clothes, food, and drink at hand. And I am sure Laphisto will be there to join us."

He took a step aside, hand lifting in an open gesture toward the speeder.

"As our guests you will be honored, and protected. Our customs are simple, do not raise harm against any who dwell here, and you will find we are quite nice hosts. Let us share in conversation, and hopefully after so long, understanding."

Rellik's smile broadened faintly, his tone cordial but carrying the subtle weight of command.

"Come. Let us leave the storm behind."

Jand Talo Kyric Mykel Dawson Diarch Reign Laphisto Aknoby

 

[Xian Xiao]

As part of the Diarchy, it was expected that Xian would help in its defense. Even if she didn't have an actual position yet, her place hadn't been decided, and she would still be present for this exchange. Wearing some nice clothes, she joined the Lilaste Order lineup even if she wasn't a member. Her face was something familiar by now, and nobody questioned her presence.

Her jacket was dark and flowered. She wore a white shirt underneath, and her lightsaber was clipped to her hip. The pants she was wearing were black and made of the same material as the jacket. Her long red hair was piled on top of her head in a loose bun that had a few strands that had come free in her hurry to dress.

However, she stood as far away from Laphisto as she could. Perhaps someday she would come to like and trust him. Not today, though. They were allies, and that was as close as she would come to relating to the man.

She wondered if any of the arriving Jedi were the ones who had deserted her. An inkling in the back of her mind told her no, and she listened to it. Noticing Aknoby was nearby Laphisto, she rolled her eyes slightly. Turning her attention to the other troops around her, she stood calmly and waited.

A change had begun to happen to the teen. Instead of being something of an impatient child, she was acting like the adult she was becoming.

Diarch Rellik Diarch Reign Mykel Dawson Kyric Jand Talo

 

[Kyric]

"If our welcome seemed excessive, forgive us. These are dangerous times, and we have learned caution the hard way. We want nothing more across the whole galaxy than to save lives... As well it is an honor to meet you Jand and your compatriots."

"An outward display o' strength is an apt way to dissuade the feint o' heart, Lord Rellik," Kyric agreed with an even tone. "For every one savant wanderin' the stars, there's countless more cowed when faced with true power. Be it the Force variety or the likes of well-trained men willin' to die for a cause." The kiffar made for the speeder shortly after the driver pulled the door open. He bowed his head in thanks to the Diarch, then his chosen chauffeur, before sliding into the planet bound ship.

In truth, Kyric wanted nothing more than to push past the first impressions of this strained introduction. What the Jedi encountered on the landing platform left much to be desired, but it was a far cry from the purges Rellik led in months past. Posturing aside, Kyric could empathize with these men and women. They wanted order. Be it for peace or control, they sought to carve out a haven away from the ongoing struggles of the greater galaxy.

What Kyric did not expect was to see a familiar face among the gathered delegates.

Xian had claimed loyalty to the Diarchy those many months ago. Her overall demeanor then suggested someone displeased with much of what plagued the likes of the Core Worlds and Mid Rim; an endless struggle between the Light and the Dark. Or more specifically—the Jedi and Sith Orders.

But that didn't mean the one-eyed Jedi Knight expected to see her in the company the Diarchs.

Kyric offered the young woman a ghost of a smile and turned his focus back on the rain beyond the glass. He knew Mykel to be a competent negotiator by far. And where the consular may stumble, Kyric trusted Jand to steady him.

---

Jand Talo | Mykel Dawson
Diarch Rellik | Diarch Reign | Laphisto | Xian Xiao | Aknoby

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Alarms blared at the station. Like a well-oiled machine, Iandre and her teams were armoured in minutes and on the way to the hangars. They would be on the planet before the arriving guests were and in position. Standing next to her friend, master and commander, they would welcome the Alliance members.

Her discipline kept them calm and measured. Even if it was raining, much like her days with the Grand Republic, the weather didn't stop her from doing her job. Keeping the majority inside the building, she brought only the men who rarely left her side.

The five agents joined the line with her and stood at attention. They melded well with Laphisto's guards and played a similar role to Iandre. Any orders were heard and followed by them and Iandre.

When Aknoby joined she didn't react. She just made a note of his location and hoped he wouldn't jump into anything today.

Unbeknownst to her, there was one Jedi in the delegation she had already met. She knew something familiar was approaching and just assumed it was her Rellik.
Diarch Rellik Kyric Jand Talo Diarch Reign Laphisto Aknoby Mykel Dawson Xian Xiao

 

[Aknoby]

Aknoby stands to Laphisto's left, fiddling with his helmet, when Rellik and the Jedi's presence grows closer in the Force. He fastens the helmet to his waist.

He glances back quickly and smiles when he sees Xian Xiao. He waves quickly to his friend and looks forward again.

The teenager gives Rellik a quick smile and keeps a neutral expression, but his eyes curiously move to look at the Jedi, remembering what he read about them in the Diarchy archives. His curiosity increases when he notices a Nagai among them. From what he has read, the Nagai have a traditional fencing style and even a type of sword. could this Nagai have mixed the style of his culture with lightsaber combat forms?

He takes a deep breath to control his emotions, trying his best to hide his real feelings from the Force.




Laphisto Iandre Athlea Diarch Rellik Xian Xiao Jand Talo Kyric

 

[Jand Talo]

The Diarch spoke like one might expect of a diplomat meeting with visitors, despite the reception from the armed forces. His words made sense, they seemed logical, and were an acceptable explanation for the situation on the landing pad, especially with mention of a bombardment; it was almost enough to cause Jand to lessen his guard.

Almost.

The eyes.

Jand looked at Diarch Rellik's eyes. They were yellow, a sign of corruption, and it was with a glance to Kyric that Jand shared the notion. His companion must have known, having vouched for the introduction, but Jand questioned whether Kyric was oblivious to the indication before them. While it might not mean Rellik was a Sith, it certainly was a physical manifestation of strong Dark Side power, likely signifying a deep immersion and corruption by the darkness... at least, at a guess.

That didn't bode well.

Kyric responded as the Jedi moved toward the speeder. Jand pulled his cloak further around himself as the rain resumed, though he raised an eyebrow when Rellik mentioned the Lightsworn.

"Have you met with the Lightsworn on similar matters, Diarch Rellik?" the Nagai asked, curious. "We are aware of some of their efforts at protection. They are an interesting group. Dedicated, like yourselves, they are strong allies to have."

Jand settled into the seat and waited to be transported. Any concerns or misgivings about the meeting were beyond reach; they were dedicated to the path forward, though that didn't mean Jand would forget to question Rellik about his relationship with the Force at a later time, in more private quarters.

"And as you say, let us speak and reach an understanding."

Jand looked out the window of the vehicle, taking in the city and its views, as they started off...

Kyric | Mykel Dawson
Diarch Rellik | Diarch Reign | Laphisto | Aknoby | Xian Xiao | Iandre Athlea​

 

[Mykel Dawson]

As Mykel made his way past the rows of Diarchy soldiers, his eyes were drawn to one ( Iandre Athlea ). It was only for a fleeting moment, but there was a familiar quality to them, which was strange as he had only briefly visited Bastion once before.

The thought passed quickly as he caught up with his fellow Knights and heard introductions from Diarch Rellik . When Knight Talo pressed the Diarch on the heavy-handed show of force, Rellik's measured explanation followed. Mykel found the response somewhat reassuring. While the scale of the military presence still struck him as overkill, at least it appeared to be a reaction to a more nebulous threat rather than a direct attempt to intimidate the Jedi delegation.

He perked up at the revelation that his friend Laphisto would be joining the proceedings. At the very least, there would be one Diarchy leader he would already have a good rapport with. You're doing quite well for yourself these days buddy.

"I can't fault you for looking out for your people," The Consular added. "These are dangerous times indeed. As Knight Talo has said, may we find common ground today, so that we may navigate them together. Also it is heartening to hear that Commander Laphisto is among those you rely on for counsel. He is an old friend of my family, and I have only ever known him to be an honorable man."

The words were spoken sincerely, Mykel willing to overlook the current...curiosities he had witnessed for the sake of the greater good.

With a small bow of respect to the Diarch, he entered the transport with the others, eager to move beyond the militant ceremony and delve into earnest conversation for the fate of the galaxy.

Kyric Jand Talo

Diarch Rellik Diarch Reign Laphisto Aknoby Xian Xiao Iandre Athlea

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto stood within the Crucible, hands clasped neatly behind his back as the storm outside rattled the stone and durasteel bones of the Diarchy's temple. He had been expecting this moment ever since Trace Xyston 's commandos signaled the Jedi delegation's approach. Their precision, their silence, their unnerving absence in the Force it all affirmed his decision. The program was proving itself. and he chose the best man to lead them. they were by now Field-tested. Efficient. Purposeful. They were the knife hidden in the folds of the Diarchy's cloak, sharpened for a singular task: to face the galaxy's most dangerous enemy. force sensitives.

By the time the speeder carrying Diarch Rellik and the Jedi was reported as inbound, Laphisto moved. His clawed hands unclasped from behind his back, reaching over one shoulder to draw free the LO-20D rifle slung there. The weapon settled into his grasp with the easy weight of familiarity, its matte plating catching the dim light of the chamber. At his motion, five figures stirred the honor guard who had shadowed Iandre Athlea , Aknoby , and Xian Xiao since the delegation's arrival.

They stepped forward in unison, boots striking the Crucible floor with the dull rhythm of iron on stone. Like their brethren on the landing pad, they were Force-dead. The air around them pressed hollow, the Force refusing to touch their forms as though recoiling from their existence. To the Jedi, their approach would feel like the suffocating hush that follows in the wake of an explosion: silence that promised violence.

And then there was Laphisto himself. Where his soldiers were voids, he was the storm's eye. As he advanced, the Force bled from him in heavy waves, spilling outward in visible currents, rolling from his body like mist pouring over the lip of a brimming cup. It clung to the floor like fog, alive and restless, tendrils curling between stone tiles and licking at the boots of his guard. Yet what radiated from him was not merely Light or Dark, but something rarer, heaviera convergence of both. His presence carried the warmth and serenity of the Light, a guiding flame that could lift the spirit, even as it bore the weight and hunger of the Dark, a shadow that pressed close like a predator's breath.

The two did not war against each other; they moved in tandem, interwoven in a way that felt neither corrupted nor sanctified. To any sensitive present, it was impossible to ignore: this was not imbalance, but a form of balance. The living embodiment of the Force in its entirety, radiating from him with the inevitability of the tide.

With the Diarch advancing step by deliberate step, his gaze shifted toward the new arrivals as the speeder's doors opened and Diarch Rellik emerged, the Jedi entourage following close behind. The faint golden-red glow in Laphisto's eyes ignited brighter with each pace, not merely a glimmer but a flare that burned like molten metal through glass. When he turned his sight upon them, it was no gentle probing. His Force-sight surged outward in a crushing tide, slamming against their presences with the violence of storm waves battering a lone lighthouse.

The pressure was suffocating, a weight that did not ask for entry but forced itself against every barrier the Jedi might raise. Each aura was assaulted in turn, tested for its strength, its cracks, its hidden truths. The Force did not simply whisper to him here it roared, pouring through his perception until every flicker of conviction, doubt, or shadow was dragged to the surface.

His eyes locked first upon Kyric, and recognition struck like a blade drawn from its sheath. That was no stranger standing in the Jedi's ranks, but a figure carved into his memory by blood and desperation. Ropagi II shattered hulls, smoke choking the air, and the humiliating sting of a failed strike against the Dusate pirates. He and his High Admiral had been stranded, their hyperdrive crippled, survival all but lost. It was Kyric and his people who had found them in that void, lifting the wreckage from the jaws of annihilation. Laphisto remembered the weight of that moment, the silent acknowledgment of a debt carved deep, one he had never voiced but never forgotten.

Laphisto's gaze shifted like the sweep of a predator's eyes, settling next upon the second figure Jand Talo . His Force-sight lashed out without hesitation, striking against the man's presence in the current like a hammer blow on iron. Where Kyric had been recognition and memory, ]Jand was mystery. Laphisto knew little of him beyond the name, but knowledge was hardly required. The Force revealed more than reputation ever could.

The probing pressure battered against the Jedi's aura, and the response was telling. There was unease there, a subtle recoil beneath the surface a disturbance that rippled through the current the way a ship's hull shudders under an unseen current. To Laphisto, it was almost expected. Jedi had been raised to flinch at the touch of the darker currents, to treat them as poison rather than part of the whole. He could feel that tension in Jand Talo's stance, the quiet conflict between discipline and instinct. then again sitting in a speeder with a dark side user could have sparked this. and being on a military world surrounded by weapons probably didn't help.

At last, Laphisto's golden-red gaze shifted to the final figure, and for the first time his Force-sight eased, the crushing tide receding like a storm breaking against a cliff. As the weight of that perception fell away, his eyes changed with it, the burning forge-glow dimming back into their natural, fractured hues of green and blue, but this time there was a visible difference in them. The green eye bore a golden ring at its edge, the blue one framed with a faint red circle

His eyes focused in the physical sense, settling directly on the man who followed at the rear of the entourage Mykel Dawson . Recognition struck him sharply, enough to still the predatory sweep of his perception. A faint lift of his brow and a subtle tilt of his head betrayed more than curiosity; it carried the weight of memory.

Here stood the son of Finlay Dawson. A name and a bloodline that mattered to Laphisto more than most would ever know. It was Finlay's family that had played no small part in shaping his fate, in carrying him forward into this age. Their choices and sacrifices had in part bound him to this galaxy, tethering him to a future he had not chosen but had sworn to navigate with honor. He had lived with that knowledge for years, and in his own quiet way, he had striven to ensure his actions never dishonored what the Dawsons had risked.

His voice broke the hush of storm and silence, quieter than before but carrying an undeniable gravity. "Mykel Dawson… it's good to see you." The words were simple, but for those who knew him, there was a rare thread of sincerity woven into them. The last time Mykel had seen him, Laphisto had been broken by an affliction a creeping, gnawing call from Kiev'ara itself,

dragging him toward his ancestral ruin. Back then, he had been caught between agony and destiny, fearing that his death was on approach. but now, the difference was stark. He stood tall, centered, his presence stabilized into something vast and undeniable. Not cured, not diminished, but transformed. In that moment, with rain streaking off his armor and Force energy bleeding from him like fog from a fractured vessel, he was both familiar and entirely alien. The man Mykel remembered still existed, but he was reforged harder, sharper, and far more dangerous.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

The speeder glided through Bastion's storm-drenched streets until the towers of the Crucible rose into view. The vehicle settled into a covered landing bay, the storm fading behind them as armored doors rumbled shut.

Inside, the atmosphere was markedly different from the pad outside. Incense lingered faintly in the air, and students crossed the polished halls with books and datapads in hand. Some bore the unmistakable glint of Sith-yellow eyes, others did not but they moved side by side, talking softly, without judgment or division that their aura's in the force might naturally portray to an outsider. There were not even whispers or glances at the Jedi. Those were reserved for Laphisto and his Honor guard. Rellik noting the passion Laphisto was exuding in the force and the look in his eyes. And already present were members of the Diarchy/Lilaste order beyond them: Iandre; who caught more of Rellik's gaze than any other - and her compatriots, Xian standing poised with quiet composure making Rellik proud, and young Aknoby trying hard to mask his curiosity behind discipline.

"Uncle!" The cry rang out across the chamber, and a small figure darted forward. Lady Nightmare books clattered against her chest as she ran headlong into Rellik's arms. He laughed, stooping to catch her, cloak falling around them both in a sudden embrace.

"Shouldn't you be studying?" he asked, mock stern.

"I'm on my way to the library!" she grinned, then peered past his shoulder. "Oh is that my dad in the back?" Diarch Reign

Before Rellik could answer she was already off, weaving through the Jedi with fearless ease, launching herself toward Reign with the same open affection.

Rellik rose, straightening his cloak, and turned back to his guests with a smile touched by genuine warmth. He gestured them onward into a wide conference chamber where a long table had been set. Food and drink awaited, simple but generous. "Please," Rellik said, motioning for the Jedi to take their seats.

He waited until they were seated before continuing, his voice even, steady.

"You asked of the Lightsworn. We have actually engaged them in battle once upon a time. A sect among our people stirred unrest in our sector, claiming we had strayed from our purpose of uniting the galaxy. In an act of appeasement we struck out at Alliance space in what was supposed to be a small attack, and a larger battle followed. A small one in the grand scheme of things, but enough. They fought valiantly, and their conviction was admirable, perhaps more the pragmatism of the wider Jedi could learn more from these warriors."

His golden eyes met each of theirs in turn, calmly and with a smile on his face. Almost un-concerned with the words he just spoke.

"In the years since my brother and I came out here and began making a name for ourselves, we have sought dialogue with all sorts of Jedi, with the Alliance. We even attempted to have a Jedi enclave stationed in Diarchy space. Each time, silence answered us. Pride, arrogance, or simple neglect, I cannot say. It is for that reason we had deemed you all to think you simply do not care who we are and that we are the enemy. We accepted that."

Rellik folded his hands on the table in front of him.

"But despite what rumors we constantly hear throughout the galaxy simply due to the fact we attempt to use all aspects of the force to bring peace, we are actually quite the open people... for the most part. Every orchard has its bad apples to say. So in that regard. Please state your business coming to my home."

Kyric Jand Talo Mykel Dawson Laphisto Xian Xiao Iandre Athlea Aknoby Diarch Reign