Populate Foundation Day | Populate of Kor Vett & Almas

[Kyric]

Drawn to the assembly hall like a moth to a flame, Kyric quietly studied the gathered Jedi from one of many thresholds built around the chamber. He knew many in passing, either from time spent training in the various facilities or the occasional greeting when passed in the hall. These people were true adherents to the greater good. The sorts his father valued in the face of great evil, yet the kiffar struggled to ford the divide within his mind—the Jedi Order didn't need him. No one did.

Kyric shook his head. His hand descended to Resolute's worn hilt; a constant companion and source of great strength, the force-imbued blade quieted his mind and opened his eye to certain truths. He was not the only Jedi in attendance who stood on the outside, peering in at a world that felt altogether forbidden to men like him.

He moved through the crowd to where the other council members gathered. This was it. The moment Kyric stood before the rest of the Order; a member of their High Council—a pillar of strength avowed to a great and noble service.

A heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach. What felt like icy fingers gripped his heart and squeezed tight, chasing the breath from his lungs in a slow-spreading cold across his chest.

Was this what his father felt at the head of the New Jedi Order?

No amount of steady breathing eased the anxiety nestled deep within Kyric's core. Peace would come to him only after he proved to not only the Order, but also himself, that he belonged beside them. Not because of the Legacy left to him by the late Sword of the Jedi, no. A name meant very little in the face of this endless fight against the darkness. He would build his own legend, one forged on the foundations provided to him by his father's sacrifice, but entirely his own.

And that started here.

Kyric took a position beside Lorn. The kiffar crossed his arms over his chest, devoid of the bandages he often favored to hide the patchwork of scars covering them. His one eye remained locked on a distant point only he could see, waiting for the ceremony to begin in earnest.

---

Council Enjoyers: Lorn Reingard | Lossa Aureus | Brandyn Sal-Soren
The Jedi of the Hour: Aiden Porte
Nearby: Blaire Sal-Soren | Eerie Omera | Kas Larsen | Michael Angellus | Phillip Slate | Dreidi Xeraic | Pari Sylune

 

[Aiden Porte]

Prior Threads/Blogs - Reckoning
Naboo
Homestead
Tags: Lorn Reingard Briana Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren Blaire Sal-Soren Dreidi Xeraic Eerie Omera Kas Larsen Michael Angellus Phillip Slate Pari Sylune​

"Word is she left a few days ago." One of the more elite members of Shiraya's Hope spoke up. "It will take time for these things to heal. But she shouldn't have spoken at you like that. Those that followed made a choice. We, and our families knew full well what that meant and what we are fighting for."

Aiden let out a sigh as he crossed his arms as he looked at the table, where more of the senior members of the group founded by his father fought. "I didn't really think about it too much at the time, you know. At first you think of those that have given their lives. They know what it means, as the families should too. However, loss......is loss. And we all deal with it in different ways."

"I just wanted to get your take on things, perhaps speak with your families again. Just to be sure that this is still something you want to continue doing. You all have sacrificed so much for the Porte name, it could be time to spend the rest of your days with your families?" Aiden said with the smallest of smiles. There were a few voices that stirred as they dismissed the idea completely. He raised his hands quickly as a way to deter their protest.

"Look, just think about it, and that goes for everyone. Please, do this for me."


*****************************************************

<Aiden, You're probably too distracted to read this today, and that's fair. I just wanted to say, before they pin more titles to your name, you've already made me proud. Not because you stood at the Gatehouse. Not because of what you held, or what it cost. But because you stayed kind. You held your ground without losing yourself, and that's rarer than most admit. You've carried your father's legacy without letting it chain you, and I know he'd see you as I do now, not as his shadow, but as his answer. You're the difference the galaxy keeps hoping will come along. Stand tall today. You've earned it, even if you don't believe that yet. –Lorn>

He wasn't trying to be late, that's just something that tended to happen. Far too often....

Aiden heard the small ping, as he looked over to the communicator. Aiden started to read the message and he let out a small sigh. He smiled and read as he walked, taking glances up as he made his way towards the front of his home. Passing by the Porte Family Portrait that he stopped to look at for a few moments as he smiled and continued on.

The Jedi moved through the front door as he stopped once more. He read the message again, as his eyes began to water slightly. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath. Calming himself, as he focused on Lorn's words and the strength and will that they carried. They finally opened after a brief period as he looked across the homestead.

It wasn't, despair, or grief. But something stronger that was born out of all these tragedies.

It pierced through any veil that was lingered on the Jedi.

*****************************************************

The Jedi entered the Sanctuary, which he believe he was on time, but with those that attended. He realized he was incredibly late. There were many here, friends a lot of these assembled today he considered family. Aided gave a small smile and a wave to those as he weaved through the crowd, greeting those with a smile as he moved ahead to where the Council Members were placed. Aiden took a deep breath, the closer he got to them. Standing before them, he gave a steady bow showing them the respect that they all deserved.

"Masters, Councilors, its good to see you all."

Nerves had subsided before he even walked through the doors. Doubt was gone, fear was always lingering, but it didn't affect the Jedi....not anymore and not like it used to. For all those that came before him and would come after long after he was gone. He was ready to take his place as a Jedi Knight of the High Republic. He would continued to preform his duties admirably and with no doubt in his heart.

It was long past time, he was ready.

 

[Solenne Abraxas]

​

Location: Shiraya Sanctuary
Tag: Aiden Porte Lorn Reingard Briana Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren Blaire Sal-Soren Dreidi Xeraic Eerie Omera Kas Larsen Michael Angellus Phillip Slate Pari Sylune
__________________________​

The air in Shiraya's Sanctuary seemed to hum with quiet reverence, perhaps, a nip of nervous excitement.

Hazel orbs took in the light that filtered gently through the stained-glass windows, painting the floor with warm, welcoming shades of hues of sapphire and gold. She remained among the masses with the temperance of an ocean at peace, ethereal, but focused on the task at hand. Her beloved padawan was unaware that she would be present for the transcendence of his path, but it was a surprise she believed would be well-received. The witnesses and guests were still arriving, and she remained silent to allow them time to do so.

Solenne was well-aware that she would be unknown to many of the Jedi present, save for those who had a penchant for perusing the archives and historical data. She kept a quiet, low profile and focused her efforts on aiding those who required it most. This often took her to the Outer Rim, Wild Space, and lesser-known parts of the galaxy where the Light did not so easily shine. Where hope…Was so much harder to be found, though; it was no less powerful.

It merely needed tending.

When it seemed to be time, the auburn-haired Hapani stepped forward and moved toward the appropriate position for one who would lead the Knighting Ceremony for Aiden Porte .

"Forgive the intrusion…", her voice carried over the crowd like a whisper, delicate and genuinely apologetic for interrupting their conversations. It was akin to flower petals falling into still water, leaving ripples to roll outward and gather attention. "It warms my heart to see all your faces, to meet you for the first time, or to see you again. My name is Solenne Abraxas."

Clad in flowing robes of twilight blue, her hands clasped, and her head inclined respectfully toward those in the grand hall. She seemed not to care what ranking might have been held by those that attended and regarded them all with equal compassion, equal measure. She had been referred to as "Master Jedi" long enough to know that they were all part of a unit. Connected. A beating heart that pulsed life and peace throughout the galaxy. Rich brown hair fell in long waves, framing a gentle face that was not marked by age, but wisdom.

Those who met her gaze would find no judgement, no need for pretense, simply a depth of understanding that came from a life spent in service. Solenne paused for a moment…Letting her eyes fall on her student, there was a softness there, warmth, and pride. "My…How you have grown, Jedi Porte."

"I remember when he was…This high—", stated with a fond smile, her hand raising to show a place that was no higher than her elbow. "—And nicking sweets from the kitchens at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. But…That was a long, long time ago."

Her expression sombered into a place of tranquility, leaving the pleasant, amusing memories behind.

"It is not in battle that a Jedi's strength is most clearly seen…", Master Abraxas began, voice soft, but sure, "Nor in triumph, nor knowledge, nor even in the Force itself. It is the quiet act of remaining steadfast, when the way forward is lost, when there is no promise that our actions will be enough. It is witnessed when we acknowledge these truths…And choose to keep our faith. When we choose to stand tall regardless of what we face."

Solenne had never…Enjoyed, public speaking. There was something disconcerting about so many eyes…But for this? She made the exception. Eyes of gilded green and blue slipped to the young man that they had all gathered to support and acknowledge. He had endured so much, with her present, and while she was away. He had done so not with anger, but with courage. Not with hatred, but with hope.

It was a rarity when so many of this generation were raised in wartime. They were unintentionally denied common, simple reasons to serve, not necessarily to fight, but to protect.

"Aiden Porte has not only endured, but thrived, unshaken in spirit. He has been many things. Student…Protector… Son. But today, he becomes something more. Not because we deem it so—But because he already is."

There was a quiet shift in the air, subtle, to the point that it would only be noted by those who were truly paying attention. Her presence, for all its gentleness, held an undeniable weight…A living current beneath still waters. This was whom Aiden had trained with, learned from, and had been guided by in his youth. The bond between teacher and pupil was treasured, sacred.

Solenne smiled. Just enough to warm the moment, not to disrupt it.

"Is there anyone else who might wish to speak?"

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

Bastila stood alone in one of the arches of the Royal Palace.

The midday sun bathed the grand avenue in Naboo’s ceremonial gold, yet as she looked down the grand stairs and took in the crowds, she felt none of its warmth. She could hear the cheers rising in waves around the plaza, banners of both Naboo and the High Republic snapped crisply in the breeze, and somewhere beyond the colonnades, a children’s choir began the anthem’s third refrain. She did not allow her mood to cast gloom across her face, but nor did she smile. Not here away from the eyes.

The royal transport barge had brought her to the royal promenade a full ten minutes earlier than planned. A calculated move of planning, perhaps, or a misstep. Either way, she had faced the gathered dignitaries and watching crowds without any inclination of her headspace, before she had a moment to disappear, for this valuable second. She had to do this, it was expected. However the uncomfortable fact was that she had to do it without a single member of her family beside her.

No Briana. No Brandyn. No Blaire.

They were elsewhere, gathered around the Jedi Order for another who they held in the highest esteem; as he took the final step toward knighthood. It was a day of pride for any Jedi. A day of legacy. Even though she understood, truly, why they’d chosen to be there, the space beside her felt cavernous.

The hem of her parade robes whispered against the polished stone as she shifted slightly. Her gown, a restrained composition of cream and pale rose, glinted subtly with embedded crystals shaped like the sigil of Theed’s founding. Around her waist, a belt of Naboo-forged electrum mirrored the sun and the moon overhead. It was a dignified choice. The subtle mentions to Shiraya appropriated for her past, yet it couldn’t be denied. It was unmistakably royal.

She sighed again, readying herself for what it really was. A performance.

She clasped her hands just below her ribs, the way Briana had taught her long ago when they used to play princess in the house grounds. It was a trick to project poise, it would anchor one’s breath allowing the spine to remain tight and straight. The gesture now felt hollow, especially after the last words she’s said to her sister. The one person she hoped would understand why.

She could feel Briana’s disapproval like a pressure at the back of her neck, despite the Grand Master’s absence. Her sister’s opinion was clear, the message was always there, and now it was being sharpened by silence: You are not ready for this. You are needed elsewhere.

Maybe she was right? But Bastila stood her ground. This was her decision, this was her doing the part she needed to for the family.

Her gaze drifted to the edge of the procession route, where the other candidates would soon emerge. Sibylla’s entrance would probably be theatrical; she’d earned it, Bastila was painfully aware that the claim Sibylla made was strong, if not the strongest. Naboo would do well under her guidance, but did it really need another politician on the throne when the High Republic continued to claim more and more politicians day by day into the fold. Then there was Aurelian? He would cloak himself in the attire of the regal already and claim them all pretenders. She was cautious of him, and while his claim may not be as grand as the others, or his name as valuable to the Houses, was that not more of a reason to be guarded?

And Bastila…?

She inhaled through her nose, slow and deliberate. The wind shifted, catching the outer veil of her robes and cloak and lifting them just enough to echo the motion of a flag; brief, and symbolic. She saw eyes shift up the stairs, where her silhouette would now be visible, even if only for the moment.

Then, at last, she moved forward. It was best to get this over and done with. Meet the noble, shake the hands.

She would do it alone. But not invisible.

Not today.

Sibylla Abrantes Aurelian Veruna Dominique Vexx

​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Aurelian's smile didn't falter, not even when her hand slipped from his, or when her gaze, sharp as any blade, tried to cut through the layers he wore like silk. He let the silence stretch, her unspoken question hanging between them like a noose. Then, he exhaled, slow and steady, as if he'd expected this moment all along.

"No surprises today, Lady Abrantes." His voice was smooth, that quiet, silken cadence that always left people wondering whether he was reassuring them or warning them. "I've played my hand. No tricks left." He tilted his head slightly, watching her; not the dress, not the kohl-lined eyes, but her, the weight of her mind behind them. Then, the answer, almost careless: "Yes." He let the word land, flat and simple. "Yes. Kyric has been under instruction for some time."

He paused, watching her reaction. It wasn't to measure her weakness, but her depth. "Does it matter why?" The question was soft, curious, almost lazy, as if he found the very need for the answer more fascinating than the answer itself. "Is it really that hard to believe," he continued, one corner of his mouth tugging up in that signature half-smirk, "that I might do the right thing? Even once?"

Aurelian stepped forward, just close enough that the space between them shifted from diplomatic to personal. "Why does it matter to you, Sibylla?" His tone was quieter now. He let the words sink in, deliberately slowing the rhythm of their exchange. "Why are you so concerned with my reasons, when you're standing here alive to ask them?" For a heartbeat, his expression softened, but not kindly or warmly. It was something else, something more dangerous. A glint of sincerity appeared, so sharp it might cut.

"Maybe I did it to protect you. Maybe I did it to control the board." He waited. "Does it change anything?" He smiled again, this time slower, darker. "I wonder," he murmured, "which answer you're hoping for."

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Brandyn cast his sister a glance. "I look fine as hell," he said with a shrug, "doesn't stop this collar from being just a little too tight."

He smirked, and looped his arm around hers. Pulling her close, he offered a quirk of his brow. "You are here. It's too late to question whether or not you are allowed...if anyone has a problem with it...they can deal with Lossa and I."

Someone from across the room shot him a glare. He was clearly being too loud. "I'm not always fidgety," he whispered to Lossa. For that comment the attendant doubled his efforts to glare at Brandyn. "You are going to get me in trouble...Lossa...I have a reputation to uphold."

It felt good to be this light, and relaxed. He felt...younger than his "advanced" age.

The ceremony began, Brandyn offering a wink to Aiden. When the offer to speak was given, Brandyn released Blaire's arm. He had already teased her about her relationship - or lack thereof - with Aiden, so he gave her a look like he was about to get her in trouble. Of course, he wasn't.

"Master Abraxas. Thank you for your words. I have very little to add..."

His hand rested on Aiden's shoulder. He could hear all the etiquette lessons of his mother whispered like sweet, lingering morsels of wisdom...and he discarded them all.

"All I have to say, is it's about damn time!" He turned, gave Aiden a hug - which included a firm slap on his back. And he stepped back into his spot next to Blaire.

Glancing at Lossa, he offered her a look of smug confidence. "Long speeches are the worst," he whispered. Immediately, he noted a red faced attendant balling up his fists across the room.

He cast a glance to his left, and noted how formally Lorn was standing and quickly copied him.

| TAG: Aiden Porte Solenne Abraxas Blaire Sal-Soren Lossa Aureus Lorn Reingard @Open|

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[Laurent Costeau]

|| FOUNDATION DAY ||
Love Lost - Chapter 1
———
TAG: Open
​

THE GHORMAN WALTZ
​

THEED

Gone was his concern of showing his face within the walls of the Shiraya Sanctuary. It was the source of his nightmare these past few weeks; how he is cornered from every angle possible, how it gets increasingly hard for him to ensure the safety of his people, the brave souls of Ghorman. Yet staying in Naboo has brought him clarity. An equally wealthy and culturally rich system, ravaged by the envious eyes of the galactic powers, only to rise on their own accord and now, soaring faster than anything he has seen in his lifetime. He cannot wait any longer. Every time wasted calculating the risk is one step closer to the impending doom that is the Imperial Core and the destruction of his precious home. To hell with the so-called elected government of Ghorman, this is a task only the Griffon is capable of taking.

Dressed in a luxurious, tailored Ghorman suit, the Grandmaster waltzed through the halls of the Temple. This is the first time he stepped foot in the Temple proper; a shameful fact he has to live with, since his daughter, Roxy Costeau , was knighted here. He wished he had let her know of his visit, but he didn't; he wasn't planning of staying for longer than his meeting with Briana Sal-Soren after all. Yet, in his heart, there is a sliver of hope that he got to see her here, in the Temple where she had grown from his little daughter to the Champion of Shiraya.

His face would be unfamiliar to the Jedi here, unless they are into the high-fashion scene, and their face unfamiliar to him. He had noticed Blaire Sal-Soren & Brandyn Sal-Soren , the Grandmaster's triplets, but other than that are just faces with no name attached to it. He tranquilly watched the proceedings from the side, the knighting of Aiden Porte , reliving the memory he never lived through.

It is a good day for the Knight, the Order, and strangely, the Old Griffon too, as he gets to see a glimpse of a better future, of what Ghorman could achieve amidst the chaos burning throughout the galaxy.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

​

Briana stood with her fellow Council members, all of them gathered in a unified circle to surround Aiden who knelt in the center before his Master, ready to take one of the most monumental steps of his life. Her cerulean eyes stared ahead, her expression kept neutral, but her mind was drawn inward. Torn, over once again having to choose between family, and duty.

If she could have been in two places at once, she would have been.

As Aiden stepped into the embrace of the Jedi, Bastila would be stepping into the blaze of holocams alongside the other candidates bidding for Naboo's future. Part of her wanted to be there, if only to pull her aside and try one last time to talk some sense into her, because she knew exactly how the vipers would come for her, the ways in which they would try to humiliate and discredit her.

But she couldn't be. As much as she loved her family, as much as she wanted to protect her sister from what she believed to be a mistake...Her life, her loyalty, it belonged to something that went beyond blood. A decision she'd made years ago, when she'd knelt for her own knighting and vowed to give everything to the Jedi, even when it hurt. Especially when it hurt.

And it always did.

Now, these two people she loved, on different but deciding paths, would also be making choices. Ones that would linger and echo throughout the entirety of their lives. For better, or worse.

"All I have to say, is it's about damn time!"

The sound of Brandyn's voice snapped Briana back to the present, and a small smile curled at the corners of her lips, despite herself. As Brandyn stepped back, Briana stepped forward.

"Aiden," she began softly, "I've known you since I myself was a Padawan, and have not only watched you grow, but at times have had the privilege to grow beside you as well. Through hardship, through heartbreak, through moments that would've broken lesser souls, you endured." She hesitated, just long enough for the weight of the moment to settle. "Your father was one of my closest advisors. My friend. And, in many ways… the presence I turned to when I didn't have a steady one. In his final moments, he left something in my care."

Reaching to her utility belt, Briana plucked a worn, but well-kept lightsaber hilt and presented it, the metal gleaming softly in the chamber light. The design would have been unmistakable to those who'd known Aiden's father. "He asked me to give this to you, when you were ready." She placed the heirloom in his hands, tucking his fingers around it and squeezing. "This is your path now. Take it forward, defend it. Let it remind you not just of where you've come from, but of who you are, and who you choose to be." Then, softer. "He would be so proud of you."

And with that, she stepped back into the circle with the rest of her Councilor's, nodding to his Master take the next step. It was time.

Aiden Porte , Solenne Abraxas
​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Yes.

Sibylla let the word settle.

He'd done it, not through charm or sleight of hand or dramatic flourish. Just the truth dropped between them. Kyric had been Aurelian's order.

She gave a nod, her breath leaving in a soft, composed exhale. Yet when Aurelian Veruna stepped closer, Sibylla did not step back, nor did she break his gaze even as the edges of his question pressed sharply against the quiet between them.

"Whether you would do the right thing wasn't in question, Aurelian," she answered quietly, deliberately using his name without his title, her hazel eyes flicking across his face, not searching this time, but seeing.

"I know you will do what is best for Naboo, after you have weighed every possible avenue, every cost. That much has never been in dispute." That was plain speaking, at least from what she had come to understand of the Senator she'd once thought to be merely coated in silk and perfume, an entertainer for the masses, indulgent in his own proclivities.

But that wasn't truly the case. Oh, on the surface, yes, but Sibylla had gradually seen more. In his speeches to the Assembly, in his drive to point out the wrongs with the Confederacy, and then with the Mandalorians. She had seen that he was just as passionate about his role, about the betterment of Naboo and her people. He was willing to be vocal. Willing to act. To be the fine instrument that sculpted what needed to be done or the firm pressure that forced others to act.

So as to why, well...

"It matters," Sibylla said at last quietly, but each word landed with the kind of weight only truth can carry. "Because intent always matters."

"Obligation. Strategy. Control. Regard. The act might be the same, but the meaning… changes everything."

She took one step forward, closing the distance neither to challenge nor retreat, but to claim space.

"We've both grown up in a world where actions are currency, and alliances are bought with intentions...not declarations. My survival shouldn't come with a hidden cost. I have to know whose narrative I'm still breathing inside."

Her fingers curled gently at her side, though her tone never faltered.

"Because if I am to walk beside you," she said, tipping her head back slightly, meeting his dark eyes with a quiet resolve, her voice dipping just enough to make it feel personal, "...or stand across from you, I must know the ground I'm standing on. Not the performance. Not the principle. Just the truth of it."

Because ultimately, Sibylla cared for and wanted what was best for Naboo. She was pragmatic enough to read the lay of the Dejairk board in front of her.

So she wasn't challenging Aurelian's candidacy or claim to the throne. Far from it. She saw it and recognized its merit -- the necessity for Naboo to have someone like Aurelian stand for her.

And she could respect that.

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

THEED - BYOO
A LITTLE SPICE OF MALICE

Razmir walked through the streets of Theed with the same reverent gravity the rich and noble of Naboo gave to these historic streets. Naboo's beauty truly was only paralleled by its people's dedication to its royal institution. He smiled openly, greeted the people he passed on his way. Nobles, citizens, and everyone else come out to celebrate the ascension of a new queen would find him a most polite and magnetic businessman.

Locked in secrecy behind that smile, however, he loathed these people.

"Stay close," he spoke to his companion, Koda Fett , as they came within sight of Razmir's true target of the day.

"Don't do anything to rouse more suspicion than you already do, but keep on the lookout. You never know who might crash the party."

It would take a few conversations with third-rate socialites, but he finally struck upon someone in Annasari 's social circle who was significant enough to make an introduction. Some compliments and some laughter later, he was being led to the Senator of Tattooine and given a formal introduction.

Razmir hadn't worn the social-cover of Mesan Tyrell, Corellian business magnate, in a while. The name still opened doors and gave him opportunities to mingle with those in the highest strata of galactic society that his true identity as a Black Sun Vigo couldn't. They said clothes make the man--and Razmir had donned his sharpest suit for this occasion--but a name sent ripples through the water like nothing else could.

"Senator, I wanted to come and congratulate you on your new appointment in person. We haven't met yet. Tyrell, Mesan Tyrell," he offered a smile and a hand.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

"The truth." The word echoed in Aurelian's skull, a challenge he hadn't prepared for. He searched her eyes, looking past the veil, as if something vital lay hidden in the depths of those kohl-lined irises that he needed to find, to understand. For the first time in recent memory, Aurelian did not know what he wanted her to see when she looked back. He stood perfectly still, unmoving, unblinking, holding her gaze.

"The truth of it," he echoed at last, his voice quieter now, no longer a weapon but something real. He let it settle between them. "My father ordered your death." The words fell from him like stones. "He was afraid. Not of you specifically, but of what you represented. Of change. Of another woman daring to take the power he thought belonged to him." Aurelian inhaled, slow and deliberate, each breath measured like a step over broken glass. "And when I learned that, I saw everything. I saw the path ahead. The parts we all still have to play." His eyes never left hers, and his tone didn't waver; there was no apology, no defense, only the weight of inevitability. "I have a part. You have a part." He cocked his head faintly, a gesture too human to be cruel.

"And your part," he whispered, "doesn't end at the hands of a weak man clawing at the last scraps of his legacy."

Silence bloomed around them like smoke. Aurelian straightened, drawing himself back into the silk-wrapped nobility everyone expected, but his voice cracked through the composure, gathering speed, gathering intensity. "I watched him. I watched my father stoop so low. After that moment, I saw the future so clearly." He spoke now like prophecy, as if trying to convince her, or perhaps himself, that this was inevitable.

"Weak men. Weak women. Grasping at power they no longer understand. Watching the Republic pull away from our shores, out into the Mid Rim, dragging our old Queen along with it." His jaw clenched. "My spies speak the same truth, Sibylla. Over and over again." He stepped forward, his voice thickening, darkening, heavy with something approaching desperation. "War." That single word landed like a blade between them. "War is coming to Naboo."

His voice rose with urgency, cracking through the polished surface. "And they're not ready. Our people, our noble houses. They're too busy believing the fairy tales about who we are." He laughed once, brittle and hollow, shaking his head. "Let them think what they want of me. Let them choke on their rumors. I have my vices, I always will. I won't change for them." He paced now, not to flee, but to coil. "But if Parrlay thrives, I thrive. If Naboo thrives, then so do I." He stopped and stared at her. "That's my part to play."

Then, something shifted. Slowly, Aurelian stepped closer, closer than before. Without hesitation, he reached up, fingers curling beneath her chin, tipping her gaze upward to meet his fully, without pretense or escape. Her skin was cool beneath his touch. His voice, when it came, was lower now, intimate and raw. "But you." He paused. "Your story… your story is just beginning." A flicker of a smile ghosted his lips, not amused, not cruel. "I see you leading not just Naboo, Sibylla. I see you leading the Republic. Years from now, they'll sing your name." His eyes searched hers as if they held his map forward. "You'll lead them into peace. Into prosperity. You'll carry the hope of a thousand systems because you were born for it." His breath trembled once, and he hated that. "But not now."

Aurelian's voice shifted again, firmer now, less prophecy and more judgment. "Now is the time for war. For change. For breaking things so something better can be rebuilt." He let that sink in.

"Naboo doesn't need hope right now. It needs survival." His thumb brushed lightly, almost thoughtlessly, against her chin as he stared down at her. "And to survive, Naboo needs someone who will make the decisions no one else can. Someone who doesn't care what they whisper behind palace walls." His voice fell lower, darker. "Naboo needs a monster to keep the wolves at bay."

He pulled his hand back, slowly, reluctantly. "And when it's safe again, when peace returns, when the blood has dried and the Republic remembers what we're worth." Aurelian's voice caught just for a moment, before smoothing out. "Then it'll be your turn." He exhaled heavily, as if he'd been holding that truth inside for too long. "And that's the truth of it."

He looked at her then, not as the prince, not as the schemer, but just as Aurelian. "I won't apologize for standing against you. But make no mistake." A pause, heavy as stone. "I am not your enemy."

His gaze bored into hers. "There is no hidden cost for your survival. No narrative you're trapped in." He let the next words land, deliberate and final. "The cost is simple. You must survive. You must learn."

He reached out, not to touch her again, but as if offering the words themselves. "You must prepare." Aurelian's voice cracked at the edges now, raw and honest. "Because Naboo demands it." Silence stretched between them like a blade unsheathed. And in that silence, Aurelian Veruna stood perfectly still, waiting.

Waiting for her answer. For her forgiveness. For her understanding. Or for none of it. Because that… that was the truth.

Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Kas Larsen]

​

Equipment: Kas' Gear
Tags: OPEN
Location: Naboo | Shiraya Sanctuary | Ceremony Chamber
Objective: Attend the Knighting Ceremony | Congratulate Aiden Porte

Kas remained silent as he listened and watched the Jedi Council, Knights and Masters congratulate Aiden Porte in becoming a newly promoted Jedi Knight for the Jedi Order. Accompanied by Caden and Kharis they too were quiet as they witnessed the promotion of Aiden's. The trio of Padawan Learners just looked around.

It was quiet among the Larsens recognised some faces, names and voices as the ceremony continued on. They didn't interact with anyone just between themselves might have been silent on their side but the trio waited.

Interesting to see multiple Jedi and other individuals in attendance. Hearing about Aiden's father being one with the Force having given his life to save multiple to avoid harm and death itself. Kas felt and thought that his new master will need perhaps close friends but it seemed Aiden already has it.

Caden, Kas and Kharis continued to experience the Knighting Ceremony and memorial for both Kahne Porte and Aiden Porte.

 

[Annasari]

THEED - BYOO
A LITTLE SPICE OF MALICE
Razmir Tezhyn | Koda Fett

“A pleasure, Mr. Tyrell.” The name sounded familiar. “Corellia, my associate said? You may be the best thing I’ve seen come off of it.”

Flashing a roguish smile, she turned withdrew her hand from his grasp. Pale eyes swept across their vicinity. The crowds were thinner in the roped off VIP area on the street, but many a noble had joined the festivities. Annasari blended as a chameleon amongst them. The black business garb of the senate had been traded for a ruby gown. Yet she and Tyrell both had the same factor that gave them away - the persistent scent of new money. Her gaze stopped, falling on a mandolorian who had entered their orbit as the same time her new companion.

“Tell me, did the holiday bring you out, or were you lucky enough to arrive for other business at the right time?”

Collecting two champagne flutes off a tray coming by, she offered one to the executive, before drawing on her own. A mindful effort was made to relax her shoulders, exuding quiet confidence. It did not ease the worry, nor could she hide the flickering look at the mercenary again. Where Mandos went, there was trouble.

 

[Koda Fett]

Of the Mandalorian people, Fett was perhaps the biggest trouble of them all.

His armoured frame was a stark contrast to those that wore their finest dresses and suits. In some sense, this was his. But whether Fett was a true Mandalorian, as that endless topic would argue, was up in the air. To have demands to become Mand'alor in one breath and be cast down as Dar'manda in another, well, it warped the spectrum. Nevertheless, the armour was a 'cultural garb' for the day.

"Just business," he said with some half-attempt at an excuse.

Razmir Tezhyn - Annasari

 

[Scavera]

O P E N​

Her fineries; war-armor and empty holsters.

The Galaxy relapsed into the Long War. Black motes overtook the stars. The Imperial Pretenders, the Mandalorian Crusaders, the Eleventh Sith Empire, the Black Sun – all revenants of eras past. The cacophonic laughter and tyranny of the Great Enemy prospered. Unknowing thralls to its grand design. Skyriver would scorch and cinder within Chaos.

It couldn’t help itself. It was all that Skyriver knew. Her people abused, hated, and raged against her. They hated their own home, their own peoples – driven to acts of absolute evil in the morals that all Great Empires make.

Masquerades; order, security, peace.

It had been so long since she had seen cities. They were odd without moss reclaiming the duracrete. People filling the streets instead of ghosts. Glass displays tall and imperial, not shattered memories. She did not walk the streets – she haunted them. Her steps are always unsure and misplaced. The ocean of beings threatened to drown her.

Her photo-reactive armor flickered as she moved. A shimmering rainbow mirror. Every color of tile, cloth, and flesh that she passed flickered to mimic. The only consistency was what skin showed through the gaps and the visor.

Naboo held a polluted regality to itself. Such splendor while the Sith marched world upon world, while the Left Handed God plotted, while systems burned and entire creeds enslaved.

She was a foreigner here, in this promised land.

The High Republic.

The final front of the Long War.

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

"I swear to Shiraya he is allergic to standing still." Blaire said with mock exasperation as Lossa, their cousin joined her and Brandyn among those gathered to celebrate Aiden.

Blaire pulled away from Bran for a moment to kiss Lossa's cheek. Lossa was closer to Briana than Blaire, they were both Jedi after all, but Blaire was always happy to see her part Zeltron cousin.

"You look gorgeous," Blaire said, returning to Brandyn's side and once again taking his arm in hers, happy that the gesture came so easy, it wasn't so long ago that easy affection for her siblings was something Blaire found herself incapable of.

"Los', are those your parents?" Blaire asked as she laid eyes on Zerianna, Lossa's daughter. Zeri and Blaire's son Baryn both were recently rescued from the nether by many of the Jedi who were in this room now, Brandyn included. "Do not sneak away without letting me say hi to Zeri. We need to set up a play date soon."

Brandyn decided to pretend himself a comic and played like he was going to raise Blaire's hand and force her into a speech for Aiden. Blaire managed a smile as she pulled her arm from her brother but not a laugh, she couldn't give him that much lest it go to his head and he quit the Jedi to go prop comicing across the republic.

Blaire listened to a Jedi she didn't know extol Aiden's many virtues and felt a rush of pride for him. Aiden had been through so much and he really did deserve this honor.

Brandyn's speech was short. Cute but short. Surely he had something a bit more heartfelt for Aiden in private.

Briana made a speech too. It was certainly longer than Brandyn's. At least one of them took their lessons from mama seriously. Tears welled silently at the corners of Blaire's eyes when Aiden was presented with his father's lightsaber. Blaire knew how close Aiden was with his father Kahne and she knew what it was to lose one's father.

Blaire sniffed.

"Where is Bastilia?" She whispered up to Brandyn trying not to interrupt. Her youngest sister was also a Jedi and Blaire would've loved to see her today too.

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Aiden Porte Lossa Aureus Briana Sal-Soren | Equipment: xxx |​

 

[Aiden Porte]

"Forgive the intrusion…"

"It warms my heart to see all your faces, to meet you for the first time, or to see you again. My name is Solenne Abraxas."

Aiden turned and glanced back as he watched Solenne Abraxas approach. The Jedi's expression was unbothered, but his eyes, look conveyed so many different emotions. True, they had been in contact back and for via holocall. She was here though, in person. The galaxy seemed softer, warmer for a moment.

More whole than it ever could be. They had an incredibly strong bond, it was one that would never fade.

"My…How you have grown, Jedi Porte."

Aiden's heart and smile grew tenfold as he let out a seemingly exhausted laugh. "Master, it's so good to see you." That's all he said, that was all that was needed at the moment. There would be more time for them to talk afterwards. They had so much to catch up on. The smile never left him, not because of the praise. He was never one to take pride in praise.

It was them, all those who stood around him and in view. Great people, people he was damn proud to call family. Seeing them all together like this, it was a powerful moment. For all the darkness, danger there was in the galaxy. Being together would cast aside all darkness and fear. He knew it couldn't always be like this, but these times showed if there was any darkness lurking around the corner. They would come to fear the light, because of them.

"Nor in triumph, nor knowledge, nor even in the Force itself. It is the quiet act of remaining steadfast, when the way forward is lost, when there is no promise that our actions will be enough. It is witnessed when we acknowledge these truths…And choose to keep our faith. When we choose to stand tall regardless of what we face."

"Aiden Porte has not only endured, but thrived, unshaken in spirit. He has been many things. Student…Protector… Son. But today, he becomes something more. Not because we deem it so—But because he already is."

Aiden bowed towards her as she finished with her speech, they weighed heavy with goodness upon him. Whatever doubts and worries about taking this step they were cast aside many weeks ago. They believed in him and trusted him. He couldn't repay that sort of trust with doubt.


He turned to Brandyn as he placed a hand on his shoulder. And next thing that happened caught him by surprise. It reminded him of when he was there for Brandyn's Knighting, he did a similar thing to him. The hug was warm and brotherly. Brandyn had been by his side for a long time. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Brandyn Sal-Soren

"All I have to say, is it's about damn time!"

"Thank you brother..." Aiden smiled as Bran stepped back into line and thus his eyes turned to Briana Sal-Soren

"I've known you since I myself was a Padawan, and have not only watched you grow, but at times have had the privilege to grow beside you as well. Through hardship, through heartbreak, through moments that would've broken lesser souls, you endured."

"Your father was one of my closest advisors. My friend. And, in many ways… the presence I turned to when I didn't have a steady one. In his final moments, he left something in my care."

"He asked me to give this to you, when you were ready."

"This is your path now. Take it forward, defend it. Let it remind you not just of where you've come from, but of who you are, and who you choose to be."

"He would be so proud of you."

Briana spoke her words, each one piercing Aiden not with pain but with truth and heart. This hit closer than he could have ever though or known. Aiden wasn't sure if he would ever get over his fathers death. There were time when he wanted to leave, and never look back. But how would that honor his sacrifice. If he left then, when his heart was marred with grief and despair.

Yet he was still here, by the words of those close to him. They knew who they were....there were in this room.

His eyes glanced down towards the lightsaber that Briana had revealed and it brought the smallest of smiles to his face.

He would be so proud of you.....

Aiden held the lightsaber in his hand, as he looked over the design that he was incredibly familiar with. Aiden bit his lip lightly almost as if he was trying to hold back the tears and a strong wave of calm washed over him. He took a deep breath as he looked up to those before him. He showed a smile but also a look of determination.

Strength, will, hope, light...…everything.

"For all that I am, and all I can be. I swear to you all that I will not let you down."

Lorn Reingard Lossa Aureus Briana Sal-Soren Kas Larsen

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

THEED - BYOO
A LITTLE SPICE OF MALICE

Annasari | Koda Fett

"You're not one for empty pleasantries," Razmir smiled, accepting the champagne.

The senator's attempts at looking natural didn't escape his notice. His smiled deepened by the smallest amount when she glanced at Fett. Was he making her nervous? He'd have to slip the bounty hunter some additional credits after this was over.

"That's good, I'm not one to waste time either."

He produced a datapad from the inner pocket of his suit. Normally he'd have tampered with it to contain some sort of virus produced by his slicer, but this one was clean.

"This has the companies I want to work with and our projected numbers. I intend to run ships through your ports and move inventory. It'll stimulate the local economy, there's just one thing blocking me."

He settled into a power pose with his hand in his pocket, giving the senator a side-glance and a smirk.

"There's legislation that keeps me from buying out some of the local competitors. I need that changed."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

​

Lorn hadn't moved since Aiden entered the chamber. Not really. Not even when the crowd shifted, or when Brandyn's too-loud voice cracked across the sanctuary like a blaster bolt through glass. He just stood there, statue-still, quiet, and sharp-edged, but something in his eyes had begun to thaw.

Then Solenne arrived. He hadn't known she was coming, none of them had, but when her voice rose above the gentle murmur of the crowd, soft, calm, and with that uncanny grace only she seemed to wield, it felt like the chamber itself took a steadying breath, one they all needed. Lorn's eyes flicked toward Aiden, and for a moment, he let the corner of his mouth lift in a soft, almost invisible smile. He'd been worried the lad wouldn't get this, not just the ceremony, but the profound rightness of it all: Solenne's presence, the warmth of friends, the closure Briana offered with that lightsaber, even Brandyn's boisterous, tavern-like chatter. It was good. It was all just... good.

And it made something inside Lorn ache. Ala should have been here. He swallowed once, hard, his fingers curling at his side, flexing, then tightening into a fist. She should have been out there in the crowd, her face teasing him for how grim he looked in ceremony robes. Instead, she was taken... just gone. He didn't even know what to call it anymore. His jaw clenched, his teeth ground. The datapad in his pocket buzzed softly, ignored. His breath came shorter now, sharp and shallow. The galaxy shrank down to the space behind his ribs, and all that was left there was a burning, endless silence. The ache turned to fire, and then to rage. Cold, quiet rage, the kind that didn't explode, but sank in and stayed. He was going to get her back, casting out that goddess. He would.

A shift beside him. Lorn blinked. The ceremony still continued, the circle hadn't moved. Aiden still knelt before the Council, but someone else stood next to him now, younger, yet somehow heavier in presence than expected. The Kiffar. Kyric. Lorn exhaled slowly, remembering where he was, what this moment meant, and who it was for. He unclenched his fists, took a breath, and let the ghosts fall back to their corners. His voice, when he finally leaned slightly and mumbled to Kyric, carrying the weariness of a man who hadn't realized he'd been clenching his soul into a fist for the last several minutes. "Didn't know they gave Council seats to ghosts now," he muttered. Then, almost as an afterthought, "Congrats, kid." No smile, but something close behind his eyes: a flicker of recognition, respect, maybe even kinship.

Then he turned back to Aiden, let his gaze linger for a moment longer, and bowed his head, just slightly, just enough, for the knight the boy had become.

Kyric​

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique laughed with Ayumi Pallopides desiring to lure away her designer. "Perhaps they could. Fortunate it would be for Upcity for them to agree, as I only demand a limited time exclusivity on my designs. Just long enough to make a statement, and have everyone clamoring to buy their ensembles."

"How are you enjoying the festivities? Not everyday a representative monarchy tries to transition to a full republic." Her golden eyes slid over the stalls and the masses all around them. "The new Chancellor might not be a CEO or even a renown trade negotiator," which obviously some on the Board favored, "but her leadership hasn't led Denon astray so far. Why even the Jedi haven't made a nuisance of themselves demanding sweeping change overnight." None of the rampant anti-corporate sentiment that'd been growing among the Alliance. No doubt spurred on by Coruscant interests eager to weaken their greatest rival.

"I think a little extravaganza such as this one is deserved. Perhaps, not too long from now, Denon might even have a few more of these without worry about insurrectionists or terrorists desperate for attention." Much as Dominique had tried to get closer and use Darkwire, she never gotten close enough for either of them to think highly of the other -- not that they would have known it was the Senator herself (if they'd figured that out they would have made quite the scene about it, she assumed). They'd been useful to distract the Board... up until the moment they weren't with the attempt to get the Alliance to crack down on Denon for the [would be] assassination of Grand Master Noble.

Ayumi Pallopides | OPEN​