Populate [GA + Friendly Explorers] The Stars Between Us | GA Populate of Resource Hex

[Caelan Valoren]

They were walking through the halls of the temple, taking it all in, when the sound of voices reached the trio. Not unexpected given that the temple was being revitalized for use by the Order. What was unexpected were the beings that the voices belonged to. He'd only seen them in history books. In fact, he'd believed them to be extinct up until that very moment, but here they were, standing in front of him as living proof that they were, in fact, still in existence despite everything that had said otherwise.

"You are Rakata," he said, the surprise evident not just on his face but within his voice. "Sorry, I don't mean that disrespectfully, it's just a surprise."

He turned a little bit so that Kastiel could go a good look at the people that had stopped before him. He immediately reached out his hands towards the large headed beings, wanting to grab them. Kastiel wanted to grab everything. Usually, Caelan's beard got the worst of it.

"Bwee-beep bwoo-dwoop beep-vrrt bwoo-dome bwee-dweet beep bwoo-bwoo-jeep!"

"That's not polite, Fate. Stop it."

He turned his attention back to the Senator.

"I'm Jedi Knight Caelan Valoren, King of the Kingdom of Devit on Lazerian IV. Pleased to meet you, Senator Tal. I'd offer to show you to them, but I'm afraid I don't actually know where they are myself. This is my first time within the halls of this temple."

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 and Kastiel| OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: B Bal Tal ​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

RELIC OF A JEDI ON A RELIC OF A WORLD
TYTHON
AKAR KESH

Caltin’s gaze lingered on the Council doors — old, weathered, and scarred by centuries of conflict… but still standing. Still open. He didn’t smile. Not yet. But something shifted in his stance — a quiet acceptance, like a mountain settling into its roots.

Then let them remember. He turned to her fully now, eyes sharp, voice low and steady — not loud, but undeniable. Let them remember that these doors weren’t built to keep danger out — they were built to let purpose in.

A pause, weight behind every word.

I’ll guard this, them, yes. But more than that… He reached down, fingers brushing the dust from the ancient threshold beneath their feet. I’ll make sure every Knight, every learner, every lost soul who crosses this stone knows why it matters. Why we matter.

He stretched slowly, straightening to his full height, shoulders squared as if bearing the weight of the galaxy and daring it to try again, to try and fight his resolve. It was a feeling he had not in a long time, a feeling he was relishing again. That missing feeling was gone. .

Because this isn’t just a temple… He cracked his neck. It’s where hope learns to fight back.

He finally looked back at her — no smile, just fire. ...and as long as I stand here, it will never fall again. Exhaling sharply as if just being hit by an adrenaline rush, he finally smiled. Hopefully I can take this off your plate.

Valery Noble • TAGS
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

T Y T H O N
A S H L A​

Silence.

Silence so overwhelming a response that when he overheard the soft-spoken voices of Azzie and Cora, there was the fraction of a moment where he believed they were the whispers of the dearly departed. He let out a defeated sigh before steeling himself for what was to come. His outstretched fingers gathered a fistful of white sand, letting it pour gently down his hand.

He looked to Azzie and offered a kind smile when she moved to sit beside him, recalling their first meeting in the wake of that horrid battle and their conversation surrounding the possible mending of Ashla. Here they were, on the precipice of attempting just that.

"No," he shook his head. "It'll take all of us." He reached over and took her by the hand. "We do this together, as is the Jedi way." Getting back on his feet, he turned to Corazona, Reina, and several other Jedi determined to aid in the procedure.

"The gravity wells already hold the pieces for us. We need only guide them into the precise position, then lock them in place." Thurion gestured by interlocking his fingers. "Like a really, really big jigsaw puzzle, yeah? Each piece has its place." He was downplaying the monstrous effort it would take, of course, but he figured that went without saying.

"It's not merely about manipulating objects," he continued. "It's about healing; it's about willing her back to life and restoring her broken spirit. It will test the mettle of your mind, so don't overdo it. Slow and steady wins the race. Should even one of us succumb, it'll greatly impact those of us still standing."

Making sure everyone understood the assignment, Thurion placed a reassuring hand upon Azzie's shoulder and smirked.

"Do, or do not. There is no try. Not in this endeavour."

By the time he turned away from the others, his features turned to stone, becoming a figure of sheer determination. The outermost layer of robes fell to the ground where he stood, as Thurion got down on one knee and pressed his palm against the sand, eyes burning bright as he commenced the arduous process of restoration. Pillars of sand began to rise from the ground, swirling and dancing as the entire moon would begin to quake.

Ashla would rise once more before the day was done.

Azurine Varek Corazona von Ascania Reina Daival ​

 

[Zephon Lazkarion]

The sky above Tython was painted in the pale hues of early morning as Zephon departed from the eastern gates of the temple. The mist still clung to the high ridges, curling like breath around the jagged spines of the mountains, and in the distance, the forge spires of Vur Tepe rose from the cliffs like fingers reaching toward memory. The path to that place was neither long nor easy. It was old. Trodden by few. Cut from stone and silence. Zephon traveled alone, his cloak drawn close against the wind, his steps sure but unhurried. Slung across his shoulder was a tightly bound pack, its contents heavy with metal and intent.

Within it, he carried several ingots of phrik and durasteel alloy, each wrapped in treated cloth to prevent corrosion. Alongside them were tools of his own making. A forge hammer. A folded leather apron. Binding wire. A set of force-tuned alignment rods. And a single palm-sized crystal whose surface shimmered faintly when touched by light. He would not be crafting a saber this time, not in the traditional sense. The blade he intended to forge would be long, narrow, and curved. A katana in form, like the weapons forged by the ancient Je'daii order. It would be a blade born of balance, a weapon that spoke not of conquest but of discipline. Not made to lead charges or cleave through armor, but to cut with precision when necessity called. The Jedi had sabers. Zephon desired a sword.

The path grew steeper as he climbed, the jungle giving way to exposed rock and scattered pines clinging to the cliffs like sentinels. Vur Tepe awaited above, veiled in smoke and the quiet breath of ancient fire. Here, the Je'daii of old had once come to shape not only weapons, but themselves. The forge was no mere chamber. It was a place of reckoning. A crucible in which iron and soul were tested alike. Zephon had come not only to make, but to remember. To temper more than metal. The mountain wind carried the scent of minerals and ash. The first embers of the forge, still distant, pulsed faintly in the Force. And as Zephon pressed onward, his mind settled into the rhythm of the task ahead. Fire. Steel. Focus. A weapon would take shape. But only if the hand that shaped it knew restraint.

 

[Vera Noble]

Tython

​

Tag: Everest Vale

​

Vera didn't flinch when Everest touched her shoulder — if anything, it grounded her. The swirling edge of danger in the Force sharpened into clarity. Her pulse slowed and her grip on the saber hilt tightened just enough to be ready, not reckless. Her multi-colored eyes scanned the tree line, tracking the subtle flickers of motion. The malformed shapes creeping between the trunks. The intent behind them was unmistakable now — hunger, aggression, something twisted. And it was getting closer.

"We can't fall back," she whispered, her voice low, "They're dangerous and they seem to have some kind of purpose. That means they're tracking someone — maybe us. Maybe not." She looked to Everest, her eyes steady, lit with resolve. "But we're here to secure this forest. For the Temple. For the people rebuilding. If we let them pass, we don't know where they'll hit next."

A breath passed between them. Then Vera shifted, lowering herself beside Everest, her saber unclipped now but not yet lit.

"We don't need to fight loud. Just smart."

Her eyes flicked to the slope ahead, judging the rise, the layout, the routes the Flesh Raiders might take. Vera's training kicked in — not just the lessons from her teachers, but from her own time in the field. All the times she'd watched Jedi handle threats that didn't wait for permission.

"We take the high ground, move wide around the edge. Pick them off before they get too close." Then, as if remembering who she was — young but not untested — she cracked a faint grin, one side of her mouth tugging upward. With that, she pushed off from the crouch and began slipping through the brush — quiet, sharp, alive. The forest around them may have been ancient, but in this moment, Vera moved like she belonged to it.

Lightsaber in hand. Purpose in her chest.

​

 

[Tyron Khan]

TAG: Open for Paddies.

Jonyna had spent the last week working on it, but it was ready for the big reveal.

With Everest Vale 's help, Jonyna stood in front of a very old looking X-wing, having set up a small history class to teach the padawans it's significance. Even if it wasn't the real thing, Jonyna felt obligated. Farmboy had done what she couldn't, and it was only fitting to her that she honor his legacy this way.

"Padawans of the New Jedi Order, let me ask you this. Do you remember the name Luke Skywalker from your teachings?"

This was quite the change for a young Besalisk as he travelled with fellow Jedi students to settle on the world of Tython. The apparent Origins of the Jedi Order. Tyron made his way to where other students had been gathering for a History Lesson in one of the classrooms available. A familiar face he knew from a previous Combat Lesson in Form I; Shii-Cho the Jedi Master Jonyna Si and he was eager to learn. A little bit of history and theory was always welcomed with Tyron and it'd help him shape his path as a future Jedi in the Galaxy on behalf of the New Jedi Order that Grandmaster Valery Noble was leading.

"Master Si, sorry for being late. Tyron Khan, I've finally made my way here to Tython. Luke Skywalker? He brought about the new generations of Jedi and Republic presences back into the Galaxy from nearing the brink of non-existence no?" Tyron stated as he took his place within the class being held.

 

[Reina Daival]

Location: Moon of Ashla
Tags: Corazona von Ascania Thurion Heavenshield Azurine Varek
Lightsaber - Pequod
Leg - Anchor

This was going to take patience. Great. One of the things that Reina struggled with. It didn't help that she was with mostly strangers. She didn't quite know any of the other Jedi with her. At least not well. There had been a point where she had resented Azurine but that time was over. Reina knew resentment wasn't good for healing. Not for Reina's own mind nor for the Moon that she wanted to help with. For now, she just sat herself down, listening to the more experienced Jedi. Listening was one key part of learning at the end of the day.

Every piece of the Moon was going to be like a puzzle they had to put back together. A small sigh escaped her mouth at that. Reina was not a fan of puzzles. At the very least, the part about Willing it back together was fortunate for Reina. Her stubbornness might finally be a strength for her when it came to the Spirit. A refusal to give up and a refusal to fail. She just had to be careful not to overwork herself.

Reina gently brushed her fingers along the sand beneath her, as she did her best to clear her mind for the task at hand. Pacing herself was going to be the most important task. Reina wasn't a fan of relying on others, relying on people she didn't know, but she was more opposed to being a burden. If she pushed herself too much, it would only add to the effort that the others needed to do...

Spirit of the Ocean that guides me, please lend me your strength. I need your aid for this task for it is not something I can do alone. Guide my mind and my focus.

With that thought echoing in her mind, Reina closed her eyes before pressing her hands deep into the sand. She could have rested her hands atop the sand, but reina wanted to feel like she was part of the Moon, to build her connection to this monumental task. She had faith in herself that she could do this...No. That they could do this. She wasn't doing it alone.
​

 

[Rel Ahn-Dross]

Mandalorian Space​

---

The Holographic Screen was lighting up, objects representing starships appearing all across it as the Interdictors far reaching sensor arrays picked up activity. He stood there, studying what he saw.

A time later and klaxons began to sound across the ship. The Horn alerting the ghosts of the vessel to danger as there was only one living being aboard at the moment. Turning his head towards droid that remained his companion his expression appeared to ask what he needn't vocalize as the droid responded...

"Sir, we've managed to deactivate the interdiction fields however the core is continuing to degrade. I suggest we leave."​

The Droids told him what he'd already assumed. Nodding once he'd have said...

"Have the others return to the boarding craft. We'll join them soon."

The Command was uploaded via the shared ethernet that the droids shared, within moments the others that had been sent to engineering would begin to return to the forward decks. They'd entered the Interdictor through the hull, these vessels had extremely limited hangar space. Once on board any of the droids could begin the basic procedures to fire their own craft.

On the bridge the sound of the klaxons would eventually die. Turning his head back to a console he produced a datastick which he'd port into it. Without the interdiction fields to drain the limited power supply that remained he was able to access the computer mainframe on the bridge and download data stored there.

It took a few minutes but the download completed and he removed the datastick, tucking it asway on his person afterwards.

Accessing the console again he'd have searched the various countermeasures and kill commands ingrained on the ships computer. Finally he found an option for self destruct. Another moment and the lighting on the bridge switched to a dim red, a feminine voice sounded over the comms stating....

SELF DESTRUCT PROTOCOLS INITIATED, CRITICAL MASS IN EIGHT MINUTES.​

...which would continue to sound every minute on the minute until the ship detonated, transforming into a fiery ball that would light up the darkness before dying again.

Turning away, motioning for the droid to join him Rel moved towards the exit of the bridge, disappearing as the doors slid shut behind him...

OPEN​

 

[Tel Ahren]

Shan Sienna Jo'Han Felcado

"And that was when the Quarra dropped down on us! They'd even licked up all the blood from around the bodies, so I didn't know until I got up close enough to see the mess they'd left of one of them..." He hadn't really had a chance to talk to the Mirialan Knight walking beside him since they'd gone to Anzat, only seeing him around the other Jedi a few times since then. So, when Shan had cornered him after everybody made it to Tython and asked what he'd been up to since—

It only made sense to start off with one of the more ridiculous stories.

While everything had ended fairly well for himself and the other Padawan he'd met on Devaron, it was certainly far from the sort of thing that Tel wanted to put himself in, but that made for the best catching-up sort of tale while they were walking around the temple grounds. "I'm still surprised it worked out, but I managed to—managed to dig in, a bit, and convince the Quarra that they'd be better off leaving us alone. It was..." He closed his eyes and shook his head in a short little shudder of disgust.

"Shan, whatever you do, don't put yourself shoulder-deep in the mind of a predator like that. It's really not a comfortable place to be."

 

[Shan]

Tag: Tel Ahren Sienna

"It doesn't sound that bad compared to the first mission I had with Master Kahlil and Valery. Ended up getting pricked by some poisonous Sith Spawn, and nearly ended up chopping my arm off before they convinced me I'd be fine. That I'd be able to fight off the poison and didn't have to jump into things so...haphazardly. Oh. I also ended up trying to tackle a Dark Jedi off a cliff during that mission as well."

With that, Shan shrugged his shoulders. It was a fond memory of his, and reminded him how it was important to have faith in one's skills, instead of going to the extreme solution. Extreme solutions weren't always necessary he had found out. Of course, he also didn't clarify anything to do with him tackling the Dark Jedi either, leaving the story at that.

"It's good to hear you're doing well however. In your free time, you should try and learn some manner of Beast Control. It can be useful in many ways. Be it solving the Quarra problem non-violently or needing to slide past creatures without being noticed."

He was always going to find some way to get a lesson taught, even if he wasn't intending on teaching it himself. Right now, he was focused on cleaning the Tython Temple and explore what was inside. Who knows what ancient texts might be in the archives? It brought an eager grin to Shan's face as he brushed his hand against the wall to clear up some muck.

 

[Razh Sho]

Objective: 1
Subobjective: Secure Forge
Tags: Aris Noble B Bal Tal
Location: Tython Wilds, at the Foot of the Forge

Razh did not move at first. Even as the chanting swelled and the thudding grew closer — guttural voices slamming against the stillness of the forest like drums of war — he stood poised, one hand behind his back, the other lightly resting near the curve of his saber hilt. He turned his head slightly as Aris spoke. Suspicion rode the edge of the boy's voice, a sharpness beneath the words that Razh recognized not as fear… but as wound.

"I'm Padawan Aris. What do you mean a call? Do you hear something from it to me?"

Razh's voice, when it came, was quiet — low enough to be for Aris alone, even as the Flesh Raiders crested the ridge before them. "No. I hear nothing but the wind and the war drums." He paused, just long enough to let the next words sink in like stone settling on a riverbed. "But sometimes, the places we walk remember us before we understand why."


And then came Two-Skull, all bone and blood and thunder. The Flesh Raiders broke from the trees in a storm of pounding limbs and barked ritual. Razh turned to face them fully now, his posture unshaken. He didn't reach for his weapon. He didn't raise his voice. He bowed. Just slightly. Controlled. Calculated. But respectful.

"Jed'aii Re-Turn-Ners," Two-Skull declared.
"Nu-Bop. Two-Skull! Two-Skull moh-gawen Bah-Shi-Gan ot Jed'aii, ak-AMI Mo-Ko-Nan!"

The club gestured. The circle drawn. The Forge waiting.

A ritual. Not a raid.

Razh raised his eyes to Two-Skull's, his expression unreadable. "Bah-Shi-Gan," he repeated carefully — tasting the word in his mouth like an oath he wasn't yet permitted to speak. Then he stepped forward.

"Two-Skull. Bah-Shi-Gan of the Forge. I am Razh Sho — Jedi, returned." He didn't bare his blade, but he let his posture shift — left foot turning ever so slightly, his spine straightening, one hand now resting gently atop his curved hilt. "This place," he said, "is not only sacred to the Jedi. It is remembered by your people as well."

The Twi'lek paused....

"I do not claim the Forge. I do not demand passage. But I would meet its challenge." Then, a slow gesture — open-palmed — toward Aris, standing just behind him. "This one walks the path as we once did. He too seeks fire, not conquest. Let your rite speak, and we will answer it."

And with that, Razh stood silent — a blade yet sheathed, a mind poised to listen before striking.

 

[Ashley Nevermore]

Objective III
Tag: Alicio Organa
Phoenix Platoon ​

Ashley felt a little uncomfortable being stuck acting as pseudo marines. While Phoenix had certainly been trained for this, she didn't like it. Being on the ground, you had freedom of movement, and more importantly, freedom of retreat. One of Phoenix's best strategies was knowing when to tactically retreat, leading an opponent into a larger force.

Not a lot of places to go on a crowded ship. Not a lot of places to draw back, or regroup.

It was just push forward.

As the ship rocked, Ashley looked to her second in command. Clark had always been a fast thinker, and before Ashley could even speak, he was spouting orders.

"Dragon, to the western bay. Wizard, with us onto the eastern."

"Copy. Viper, rear guard and suppression. Dominos, forward assault. Push in and eliminate."

The soldiers of the platoon moved like clockwork, as Ashley herself stuck by Alicio.

"I hope you don't expect me to allow you to just throw yourself at the pirates sir." She chatted as she pushed forward, rifle raised.

 

[Loomi]

Tython
Tags: Zaiya Ceti

​

"But it's a good kind of heavy. My Master and Domxite have been helping me with regulating the resonance when I touch someone, but also allowing me to see how emotions paint the Force around a person, that way I don't get overwhelmed with the sensation as much as observing how the hues and tones blend and react against one another -- almost no different as if they were a Lovalla like me."

"I understand," Loomi nodded. "Emotions are very invasive to me. I... cannot exactly shut them out easily. I let Braze see what I truly see recently, and he told me that it was more overwhelming than anything he expected. And as far as I'm aware he has some empathic abilities as well. I suppose it makes sense why I was always so air-headed when I had first arrived. I couldn't focus, let alone process what I was thinking."

She let out a soft chuckle.

"I suppose being able to recognize that means I have grown," she noted. "And for what it's worth, you seem to have grown a lot too. I'm sure that you may start thinking about your trials soon as well."

Loomi sighed, crossing her arms as her thoughts drifted to her recent training. Mist Weaving was a very peculiar thing, and she had been introduced to a whole other world where people pulled at the very fabric of reality to draw things into existence. It was the most direct application of the Force made physical she had yet to find.

And it had been used to make a moon. An entire planetoid. She just didn't know where it was yet. How did she even explain that to someone?

"Say..." she began again. "If you, one day, discovered that you were incredibly powerful in a way you never expected... say you learn a technique that you struggle to truly understand the limitations of... how would you approach making use of it?"

 

[Bal Tal]

Bal Tal gave a smile to Caelan Valoren as he was caught aback by the sight of a Rakatan. A Rakatan smile was not the same as most species', and came naturally. However, it also involved showing off one's bottom teeth and drooling a bit. Bal had trained himself to smile in the conventional way. For him, it was a sort of contemptable placation to something - someone - utterly alien to him. An attempt to relax something that was as offputting to him as he often was to them.

"No offense taken, those who recognize us often give that same reaction. There aren't many of us, and fewer still live publicly. Especially not as publicly as a Senator - it's a recent development, I get that, as well."

He looked down at the Droid commenting on his head. Binary was one of the first languages Bal had learned. He understood it better than his supposedly 'native' tongue. Droids were servants, and built that way. This Jedi was responsible for what the Droid said, and this thing needed a mind wipe to get back into compliance. He was less insulted by the jab, and more by it talking to him so out of turn and irrelevantly.

"A new adventure for all four of us, then?" Bal said, looking at the Jedi's child, and then to Raz,.

Raz had made great headway in tearing apart his meat, down to the bone, and was making a little nest of shredded pieces that had fallen off, only stopping once in a while to eat one. Evidently, his father and the Jedi were interesting enough for him to at least be looking around at the adults around him.

"I have heard of Lazerian, though only in passing. What turns a Jedi into a King? I imagine something similar to a Rakatan turning into a Senator, I suppose."

 

[Bal Tal]

Two-Skull listened carefully to Master Razh Sho as he spoke, trying to parse Razh's words as intently as Razh had attempted to understand Two-Skull.

"Forge?" one of the Flesh Raiders asked.

"Forge...Mo-Ko-Nan cheeja," Two-Skull said, "Jed'aii ak-ami cheeja."

This seemed to explain everything to the Flesh Raiders, who muttered and nodded amongst each other. Two-Skull sized up Master Sho, and only gave a glance to the apprentice. He looked at Razh's Lightsaber, and then at his own club, clearly thinking about the next step.

"Nuk wob," Two-Skull declared, dropping his wicked spiked club onto the ground. The other Flesh Raiders seemed either to accept the declaration or seem frustrated, anticipating boredom. It would seem that this Moh-gawen would not be as bloody as they had hoped.

Two-Skull held out his left arm towards Razh, his hand in a fist, and put the other behind his back. He indicated for Razh to do the same, and took several stepped towards Razh. When Razh was in reach, Two-Skull punched at him, aiming for the face, in a snap of his arm that was much faster than expected. The Flesh Raider had height and reach, as well. The larger and older of the Flesh Raiders were watching the match intently, trying to size up how the Jedi fought.

Tags: Open, Aris Noble

 

[Dean Walker]

The shuttle's hull rattled as it moved through the upper atmosphere, the distortion field peeling back just enough to let friction lick at the plating. Dean stayed seated, hands braced on the armrests, but his eyes were on the descending readout — the broken surface of Taris creeping closer.

A world that not long ago answered to the Galactic Alliance, now dangling on the edge of Mandalorian space. The maps didn't say GA anymore. But the dirt remembered. And so did the buried infrastructure. Dean shifted as the shuttle banked, casting a glance toward Amelia, who stood unmoving near the cockpit.

"I have a feeling they won't be quiet for long." His eyes flicked to the viewport — a glimpse of scorched ruins, shattered rooftops, and remnants of the last battle between Alliance and Mandalorian forces. "Taris is still half-wired with Alliance relay points. Scrubbed from public records, but they're there. Still whispering."

He stood smoothly as the pilot called out final approach. His pistol clipped into place at his hip, and his coat shifted just enough to reveal the sleek line of the vibroblade at his hip, "I say we start here," he continued, moving toward the ramp. "It's familiar, but unstable. The Mandalorian presence is shallow — they collapsed before they could properly control the planet." As the hatch began to open, Dean readied himself to get out.

Then, with the hiss of hydraulics and the rush of air, Dean dropped down after the commando. Boots hit earth. Cracked duracrete and wind-swept debris. The bones of two regimes. He rose, drew his sidearm, and swept the landing zone. No immediate contact. The quiet here was… uneasy.

"Let's move. We'll start planting nodes near the old grid. If there's anything left buried under this rock, we're going to find it." Dean's eyes scanned the distant skyline, where broken spires leaned like teeth.

Soon, they'd bring these people home again.

Nos Voros Amelia Hawthorne
​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery didn't answer right away. She watched him — the way his frame settled into the ancient stone, the way his words filled the air. And she exhaled with it — the quiet, steady kind of relief that comes from knowing something important had finally clicked into place.

"You will take it off my plate," she said with confidence, her voice low and warm. "I trust you, Caltin." Her gaze shifted, a flicker of thought passing behind her eyes. Then she stepped in a little closer, her voice lowering, more direct.

"Reach out to Master Zark San Tekka, as well" she said. "He's the Gatemaster — responsible for the security of all our temples and their connected lines of communication across the Order. He'll want to know you're here now, holding this place." She glanced around the chamber once more — the dust still settling, the light golden and alive through high windows.

"This Temple might be yours to watch over, but he's the one who keeps the doors between us open. And if we're rebuilding right, we do it together." Then, after a moment, she offered her hand again — not as a superior, not even just as a colleague. As a Jedi. As a friend.

"I'm proud to call you Warden, Caltin." A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"Now, why don't we go for a walk around our new Temple, hm?"

Caltin Vanagor ​

 

[Mykel Dawson]

FALSE MESSIAH #2​

Location: Heavy Cargo Freighter Auric Venture, Alliance frontier space at the Mid-Rim.
Objective (III): Stakeout (Pirate Hunting)
With: Jedi Knight Consular Kaldor Vexis (NPC), OPEN (DM for details before joining)

The action he craved finally came as he sensed a reversion through the Venture's sensors. A few moments later, his comlink would crackle alive.

"Mykel, heads up. We have something," Kaldor told him, voice clipped and steady. Despite the tense situation of letting themselves drift around like sitting ducks, his master remained implacable.

"I see it," he confirmed. "I'm coming back up to Ops."

"Very good, I've ordered the rest of the team to reposition for an ambush." The entire civilian crew of the Venture had been replaced by GADF marines and naval engineers in disguise like the Jedi, not wanting to risk collateral on such a dicey mission in a confined space. A nasty surprise now lay in wait for any boarding pirates.

Mykel scrambled out of the engine room, and a short turbolift ride later, he was back on the bridge with Kaldor. His master was standing before the main terminal with Major Hurst (as Chief Officer Cordana). Despite his disguise, the Consular still looked too dignified in his threadbare officer jacket to be a hauler captain, hands neatly clasped behind his back. Fortunately for them, the charade wouldn't have to last much longer.

"We're getting a hail now," Kaldor told him.

"Let's get this party started," Mykel said, tone steady but inside his stomach was twisting in knots. First the excitement had come with a new development, but the dread soon followed with the promise of violence.

Kaldor answered, a large full color hologram being rendered as the call connected.

Before them stood a tall and attractive woman dressed neatly in a GADF naval uniform, auburn hair pulled into a bun. Her expression was warm, her bright green eyes crinkling with well worn laugh lines.

::This is Commander Lysa Thorne of the ANS Righteous Flame. We received your distress call and diverted course immediately. Are you alright? Do you require medical assistance or an engineering crew?::

Mykel was stunned by her appearance. In the briefings, they had been notified that the pirates were posing as GADF navy personnel, but he hadn't expected the whole shebang to include a convincing uniform. It was all a little too perfect. His analytical mind was quickly reaching to another, darker conclusion...

It was time to check in on the opposing vessel itself.

 

[Aris Noble]

Aris's expression thinned.

Fleshraiders. From what he'd knew, they raided flesh. It wasn't a hard guess from their name, but the history of them on the world was cannibalistic ritualists who would capture towns to eat the people within. They were here and talking, which was already a good sign that perhaps such a history had become only that; history.

And yet they were preparing for a fight regardless. He hummed, unsure on what to do with that. His arms crossed, and for now, he just watched.

Razh Sho | B Bal Tal

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

RELIC OF A JEDI ON A RELIC OF A WORLD
TYTHON
AKAR KESH

Her vote of trust was important, and something he did not take lightly. Trust was something he never wanted given to him, but earned, it was instilled in him early in his life, he instilled it in Connel, and to an extent his nephew Michael Angellus . So hearing that brought an appreciative, relieved exhale.

Her call for him to reach out to Master San Tekka was one he nodded easily to. He was the last Gatemaster for the Silver Rest when it was on Kashyyyk and security was important. Nodding, he answered Will do, when the Temple I was building on Kesh officially finishes, I will let him know about that as well, hopefully one day Kashyyyk will be inhabitable again… Not wanting to monopolize the conversation with his thoughts of the past, he let that trail off, but Caltin had too many Wookiees on his mind to not think about that.

Taking her hand offer, his smile was full, and genuine. I’m proud to be called such, and am thankful for the faith. Nodding at the query, his smile turned to a smirk. Definitely…

Valery Noble • TAGS
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​