Faction [GA] Sacrifice's End

[Spirit of Perseverance]

Sacrifice's End

​

THE FINAL SECOND GREAT HYPERSPACE WAR STORY
Sacrifice's end
The Second Great Hyperspace War is over.

After a successful diversion at Selvaris and the subsequent liberation of Shihon and Oyokal, the Alliance was able to launch its final strike against the heart of its most dangerous enemy. At Exegol, the final blow was dealt to the Maw's military, and crucial leaders were all neutralized, leaving their remnants in disarray.

The Brotherhood of the Maw is no more, and a new era has begun to heal the Galaxy of the wounds created by them.

​

Spanning from Coruscant to the far reaches of the Alliance, citizens, soldiers, and Jedi alike celebrate the end of a war that has left trillions dead, and entire worlds destroyed. Memories of these events will echo through history for centuries to come, but today was a moment to remember and to move forward. It is for this reason that everybody is encouraged to come together to celebrate, whether it's at the Senate Plaza or in the halls of the Jedi Temple.

But while many celebrate the relief of the war's end, on this day, people are also asked to remember those who gave everything for it.

Asmundr Varobalder was always the guiding voice, bringing his fellow Jedi together. Through visions and wisdom, he understood what was necessary for the future the Jedi had sworn to defend. It was this vision that ultimately resulted in him joining the Force, as he gave up his life to sustain the Jedi who worked together to cleanse Exegol with a Wall of Light. His sacrifice came when we needed it the most - his life’s work, devoted to the order, and now his very essence.

But even in death, his influence will never fade. A Watchman’s duty does not end - it simply transforms, as he offers all his knowledge and his very eyes to the next.

As Master Henna Ashina came to be the next seer, it is only fitting that in a time of metamorphosis, the Force would reveal grander plans. The Shield of the Order is a term forgotten over the past few years; as Auteme came into her own and chose to depart the Jedi, it had been left vacant. No visions came for another. The faithless would have questioned and cursed the knight who abandoned them, but Master Varobalder always believed there would be another when the time was upon it. So it came above Exegol that one had been shaped in our midst, tried and refashioned time and time again.

Kahlil Noble had taken up the mantle, chosen by Ashla.

There would be other awards granted in the moment of change. Medals bestowed upon soldiers and Jedi. Symbols of honorance erected for the galaxy to remember the sacrifices. The Jedi Council would even see growth, looking to tomorrow; hope would see them through as they wait for time to heal deeper wounds.

In memory of
“A million eyes lent her their vision momentarily to see the seer for all he was. Prophet, protector, pillar. The hammer which forged the sword. The hands that shaped the shield. The guardian of their order, always watching, observant; that knowledge let him give and give again, and quietly, he had become the backbone as well, amongst the oldest and most treasured.” - Henna Ashina ​

 

[Valery Noble]

Coruscant Temple

​

Outfit: Factory Link
Appearance: Link
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Kahlil Noble | Open

After he was officially recognized as the new Shield, Valery would be waiting for him in the grand hall of the Temple, where many other Jedi would gather to celebrate the end of the war as well. In front of her, held against her lap, was Vera. She had been excitedly bouncing up and down on her feet ever since she found out about her father, and finally, she spotted him walking down the hallway.

Valery let go, allowing her to step forward, and with a big grin, as goofy as her father's sometimes was, she bowed deeply. "Congratulations, Master Noble." she giggled and finally couldn't resist the urge anymore. With her arms outstretched, she jumped at him for a big hug. The war was over, both her parents were safe, and it felt like a huge weight was off everybody's shoulders.

Vera could feel this.

"It's finally all over, huh?" Valery asked as she joined them. "When I came back from that meditative retreat, I jumped straight into the aftermath of the battle here on Coruscant. Now we're standing here without the Maw threatening to destroy our home again." She smiled softly and looked around.

She felt confident that better times were coming.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Eyepatches were weird, to say the least. Kahlil idly fiddled with it, a frown still on his face as he walked down the hall. It felt weird, sure, but at least it stopped people from freaking out over how twisted his eye looked underneath. More than just dead. Corrupted. What Kyrel Ren had done wasn't as easily healed as one might think. He'd have to check in with Amani Serys at some point to see what could be done.

Same for his arm. He glanced to the sling, frowning just a little more. There was a lot to heal. Not just on him, but everywhere. All the worlds that were once under the Maw's control needed help.

Not that he thought on it long. Someone familiar. A brighter, much brighter, smile took over as his one good arm did reach out to catch Vera midleap.

"Why thank you, Padawan Noble."

He gave her as big of a hug as he could before glancing towards Valery. Smiling and nodding.

"It's not over, not completely. But the war, for now, is. It'll be good to relax, I think. Just for a bit."

Valery Noble

 

[Rriss'aboumo'vrumi]

Sacrifice's End
Azolon Blavier (Open)

The Second Great Hyperspace War came to a close with the defeat of the Brotherhood of the Maw over Exegol. The great enemy had been defeated and their remnants scattered across the Unknown Regions. Many hailed the revival of the Galactic Alliance as the most powerful faction within the galaxy unchallenged amongst those that remained from the galaxy wide collapse. It was supposed to be the beginning of an era of unprecedented peace and prosperity for all citizens who had suffered dearly during the war. The populace might celebrate, but there was valid concern amongst the ranks of the Alliance Defense Forces. Now that the war with the maw was over, they were only needed for internal security and clearing maw holdouts within regions of strategic interests. Was there a possibility no matter how small that officers would be decommissioned and the force be downsized now that the enemy was vanquished.

These fears might be unfounded but to Commodore Blavier of the 108th Frontier Fleet, it was a certain factor. He had personally engaged with the Final Dawn Fleet over Selvaris and had been forced to withdraw in the face of superior firepower and starfighter capacity. Disgraceful behavior some might call it and even cowardice, but for an old guard like himself. It was something to reflect on and improve during the next engagement with arguably the most powerful sub-faction still remaining of the Brotherhood.

He had sent his after action report to Alliance High Command from his old flagship, the ANS Vober Dand before being upgraded with a Starhawk III Class Battleship as part of reinforcements for the Siege of Exegol. However he had arrived too late to assist during the battle. August half expected to be demoted for his failure over Selvaris.

But it was never to late to save face at the Senate Plaza. Where he was expecting to meet with his Nephew, General Azolon Blavier who had commanded a sizeable force on Exegol clearing out the forbidden district. Walking along the edges of the plaza wearing his naval uniform as celebrations occurred across the city.

"I hear you lost quite a bit of manpower on Exegol." He asked Azolon Blavier with a monotone voice.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

This was victory.

Cale watched the fireworks as they filled the sky with burst of color from where he sat on the steps of the temple, a lit stimstick hanging from his lips like always. Victory was a strange thing he realized, one he wasn’t sure he knew how to process anymore. He remembered the aftermath of Korriban, how they’d celebrated and honored their fallen, how proud he’d been. It was a tainted memory now though, the darkness of the One Sith corrupting any shred of past happiness with the knowledge of the hell that followed.

Even now, it was still hard to go inside the temple, to be in the place that he’d been made to help destroy. It was home though, with the Violet Venture little more than one among thousands of broken wrecks cast into the abyss in Exegol’s destruction, there would be no more running. This place, simultaneously the sight of his most grievous defeat and now his greatest triumphs would be where had to set his roots.

There was always Illum he supposed, or Tython, but the former was too cold and the latter was simply too much to bear. He’d grown up on Tython, but he couldn’t stay there again, it just wasn’t in him to do it.

He laid back against the steps and watched as X-Wings streaked over head, another cascade of brightly colored fireworks exploding in their wake. Cale blew a cloud of gray smoke into the air and chuckled to himself as he watched the sky. This was victory.

 

[Ari Naldax]

GADF Headquarters
Starfighter Corps Memorial

​

Ari looked overhead as a flight of X-wings flew overhead, the Section Lead pulling upwards and away to signify those lost in the struggle, with the crowd in GADF Plaza falling nearly silent in respect. One hand gripped a chain with several holotags as the wing commander's other hand traced over freshly carved names inscribed on the large, polished wall. Your sacrifice wasn't in vain - and I shall always fight to keep it so. An icy chill flowed through her veins and down her spine as the hand crossed over names that were once carried by wingmen, friends, colleagues, and subordinates. People who were like family to her - and who had given their lives to bring justice unto the Maw.

Stepping away, and walking back towards the plaza, Ari firmly clasped her hands behind her back and around the holotags, eyes swollen red from held-back tears - of both grief and joy. The pilot's mind was racing in confusion - she'd spent the better part of several years dedicating her entire life towards revenge on those who had brought chaos into her life and those of her squadronmates - the Bryn'adul, Brotherhood of the Maw, the New Imperials - and now those governments were scattered to the wind, it seemed like Peace was finally descending on the GA. She wasn't sure if there was a place for her anymore.

Slinking into the crowd of Officers and Servicemen celebrating the end of a galaxy-wide war, she tried to tap into the feelings of those around her, basking in the joy and celebration over peace finally happening - nothing could help her, however. The doubts and uncertainty racing through her head made her smile half-hearted and fake, and her cheers anemic. Any perceptive observer could likely see that this level of solemnity was unusual for the usually boisterous and spirited pilot. Perhaps it was the weight of the many subordinates that she'd lost finally falling upon her shoulders or apprehension about her future - what her purpose in life would be now that the Maw had fallen - but despite her best intentions, the pilot was very obviously not in the spirits of her comrades.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

(Open)​

Exegol had been weird. Disturbing, but also really, really strange.

It was jarring to be a millimeter from death in a cinematic hellscape one day, then back to business as usual on Coruscant. A weeklong stay in the medbay had been the only time in between. After spending a few days suspended in bacta to heal her shattered ribs and punctured lung, Cora decided that she hated the ward's antiseptic smell.

Ukatians had a bloody history of internal power struggles, but they rarely bothered much with anything offworld. Meandering through the crowds in the plaza, Cora couldn't help but wonder how many faces had been lost in the fight against the Maw. Faces that she'd never know, but who were almost certainly being missed by someone right now.

She'd been fortunate in that regard—the Padawan was aware of the passing of Master Varobalder and countless others, but no one she knew personally had met their end on Exegol. Still, she attended vigils and ceremonies and burials as was appropriate, offering respectful, but brief recognition of their sacrifice.

Grieving for someone you didn't know felt hollow.

A surge of breathlessness hit her, and she stopped to rest her back against the base of a statue. The bacta had done its work, but her ribs still ached and her lungs continued to burn.

 

[Thelma Goth]

Others may have found it difficult to readjust to civilian life, but Thelma found solace in it. She sat before her sewing machine, watching the needle thread through fabric, comforted by the familiarity of the act.

Having holed up in her room as soon as possible to recuperate—her body needed sleep to heal, not bacta and bandages—she wasn't even aware that a memorial service was being held, much less that awards were being given out. All she knew was that she had work to do, and throwing herself back into it was the surest way to recover and move on.

Silas Westgard​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Wearing: Black Jumpsuit, Synthweave Tunic, Utility Belt, Appearance
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren, Cybelle Sal-Soren , @Open

How long had it been since they left Exegol, since she'd seen her brother or Cybelle? Time seemed to slip from her grasp in the days following their return to Coruscant.

Between the need to heal from the injuries she'd sustained and the paperwork needing to be filed of their teams exploits, the days got away from her, blending together.

Quietly, she strode through the crowds looking for Brandyn and her childhood friend, emerging to find the former perched against a wall towards the back. Passing between the bodies of celebrants, Briana silently surveyed her brother who looked to be deep in thought, before making her final approach. Her cerulean eyes flicked meaningfully towards Brandyn, placing a hand against his shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

Brandyn had changed, irrevocably, from the boy she'd known growing up on Naboo. That boy had been full of optimism and opportunities, grandiose aspirations. The man who stood near her side now was the same, but…calmer. He strode ahead with purpose, rather than crashing around and bumbling through the Galaxy with reckless abandon.

Briana almost missed the old Brandyn's more youthful vigor. How times had changed.

"Do you two know what you'll be doing, now that we've entered this supposed era of peace?" she asked, moving to stand beside her brother. "I mean…" She gave him a once over, "You don't exactly look like you're planning on staying." And she wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. The war might be over, but that didn't mean there wasn't work to be done. Truthfully, Briana doubted the fighting would ever be well and truly 'over'. Remnants of Mawites might still loom out beyond their perception, despite the core of their power having fallen to the Galactic Alliance.

Celebrating almost felt premature, but then...perhaps it wasn't about celebrating the end of a war, but celebrating the promise of new beginnings. Of being alive and together in the moment, before they were scattered once again.

Sighing softly, she turned her eyes towards the sky just in time to watch the fireworks burst overhead.

 

[Amani Serys]

Jasper Kai'el | Others
​

Emotions were high with the war officially at its end. Jubilation in victory, but also grief at the loss of friends and comrades. Not just from Exegol, but the whole war. Everything had piled up, compartmentalized until finally the floodgates could be opened and everything could be set free. It all lead to today. A day free of the Maw's iron grip. The dead and living alike both deserved a bit of peace.

Even still, the work didn't end. Not least of all for the Jedi. With the dawn of a new era upon them, and the death of an honored member, it was long past due that they reorganize their leadership. Masters Henna Sarratt and Kahlil Noble took their place among the Council, but it was then Amani that came up to stand up in front of the hall. She smiled a bit sheepishly, and readjusted the mic. Public speaking was never her favorite, but this wasn't about her, "There is another announcement to make, on behalf of my fellow Councilors."

Amani scanned the crowd for a certain face, and continued, "Jasper Kai'el?" She waited, looking over the crowd once more, "Would you please come forward?"

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Coruscant
Tags: Amani Serys

​

"Would you please come forward?"

Jasper was a bit stunned by this sudden request. He had spent the time reflecting on what had occurred, mourning the loss of those that had fallen. Calix especially. The boy hadn’t returned, and after everything that had transpired there was no hope of recovering him for a burial of any kind. Asmundr Varobalder was an interesting case as well. He had felt the seer’s presence, but never had the two met. It was a shame. Jasper would have liked the opportunity to.

But here he was, asked to personally rise to the front of the gathered crowd. And on the behalf of the council as well? A nervous wave rippled through his body as he sheepishly made his way up, composing himself the best he could.

“Yes, Miss Amani?”

He remained as stoic as he could. It was admitted very difficult, but the image of the Order to the gathered crowd and the recent high of the war finally being over kept him together.

What was this for?

 

[Azolon Blavier]

SACRIFICES END
THE RENAISSANCE ERA
August Freiherr Blavier (Open)

​

After all this time, the greater populace of the Galactic Alliance sent their youth off to fight for things such as 'heroism', 'honor', tenants & ideals which allowed for the great hegemony of peace to spring to life and now it was over. The Brotherhood of the Maw, a nightmarish coalition with delegates sent from whichever forsaken Dark Side abyss had their legs chopped off like a runaway Twi'lek slave from Nar Shaddaa; all that was left was a cesspool of rival remnants, less troubling then the confederation of warlords which were striking at hearts of the masses. Crowds gathered across GA Space, celebrations by the masses, a twinkling star of peace was developing but the 'brightest flame casts the darkest shadow', threats lurked in the darkness, would this duration of peace last? Of course not, only a simpleton would think so, report of a rising threat coming in as one dies down.

While somber tunes and opposite were being sang, Major-General Blavier was busy stressing away; his career was a sequence of vertical-progression up the Hierarchy of the GADF and now as the MAW disappears it halts without rewards of promotion. He was locked behind a desk with work more suited for a Fortune 500 Galactic Executive, browsing through endless Military-Contracts and logistical papers as he began to reconfigurate the bureaucratic-structure of the 187th Division, one which suffered hefty losses to High-Regent Marlon Sularen during the 'Battle of Exegol'. It was hitting him in the face, the revolving door was calling his name, perhaps he could sell his services to Private Conglomerates such as the Commerce Guild or maybe some foreign governments aligned with the GA, though that was less likely with agencies like the SIA breathing down the Officer Corps' necks.

Moments later

"I hear you lost quite a bit of manpower on Exegol." The Commodore said as the duo walked.

"I've been hearing mutual words about you, Commodore, events such as Naval Battles. If you send untrained soldiers out onto the field of the battle, then they'll be falling like the Jedi to the Dark side, going out morbidly with their boots on and we all know this; blame the situation on the GADF's Military Colleges and their rigid doctrine of warfare. They say stray from despotic leadership, give autonomy, and now I have more than a thousand letters to write to the public." The General said in response, it was evident that the duo even when sharing a last name and blood were not too fond of each other.

"Now moving on, what have you called me down from my office to speak upon? GADF Research Projects? Hunting the scum which is Mawites down?" Azolon questioned. The Old Commodore showcased himself to society as one of patriotic alignment and ever dripping fonts of Old Guard ideals but to his family, his character was more than questionable.

 

[Rriss'aboumo'vrumi]

SACRIFICES END
THE RENAISSANCE ERA
Azolon Blavier (Open)

He was not particularly surprised with the response given by his nephew as they walked among the fringes of the lively senate plaza. The pair had not been close with one another due to his personal dislike of the boy's father who was dishonoring the Blavier Household with his repugnant ideologies. He had prayed that the boy would come around to see his point of view, but apparently that was not the case. Those instructors at the army institution must have influenced him to form independent thought. During the war, training was less focused within the naval department of the alliance mainly due to the need for manpower against the Maw as they struck deep to form the Maw Corridor.

"Although I am saddened by the deaths over Selvaris, overall the losses were acceptable by any other standard used by former galactic powers. However the alliance sees things differently to the detriment of our defense forces as it evident in your writings to the public. Whatever you say within them will be twisted by the Alliance High Command and the Senate as general incompetence." August responded clutching his hands behind his back, before turning towards the man. Although he was extremely loyal to the Supreme Chancellor Auteme, the senate was filled with corruption and self interests reigning supreme over actual logical thought.

"As to the reason that I summoned you down here, Young Azolon. Is that we will no doubt be facing a downsizing of our military as a result of the closure of the Second Great Hyperspace War. If that comes to pass, less desirable officers such as us will be decommissioned and assigned to demining desk work. I cannot allow that stain on our household and I doubt you will either." He answered the previous inquiry with expositional words. The Blavier Household could not afford to lose face with the other Minor and Great Houses of Anaxes.

"Therefore I am suggesting that we put additional effort in persuading the Alliance High Command to begin hunting down and exterminating the former pillar of the Brotherhood's Might. The Final Dawn which we have both faced and suffered losses against. After all, a military without a war of some kind becomes as weak as a paper bantha." An actual answer to the inquiry, with a hint of a plan. The Final Dawn needed to be culled from the galaxy in order to assure that the Alliance would actually enter into a Pax Allinca Age.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

Coruscant Temple​

“Resilience is, of course, necessary for a warrior. But a lack of empathy isn't.” - Phil Klay​

He was there.

It had been awhile since he was on his own holo-show “Cooking with Caltin” having several employees fill in, but this “remote” was one he wanted to be on himself. They were in between takes as Vanagor was out among those gathered in and around the Temple. The Galaxy was ready for peace? Was it? One could only hope. There was celebration in the streets, joy, jubilation and frivolity were the overarching emotions, but Caltin was not among that collective.

He was not “morose” or “regretful”, he was reflecting on the cost of this, not “monetary” but the lives lost… cultures… lost. That is the price he was paying now for nine hundred years worth of memories that he never experienced on his own. The big man did not dwell too much on the subject, the innocent lives that were taken were a tragedy and so were the allies, both Jedi and military, but they are one with the Force so that those alive today could press on.

That made him dwell on his existence.

He was by far not the only one who was “out of time”, in a manner of speaking, but it was still something to think about that though he was (visually) in his forties, he was technically over nine hundred years old. He would not let himself be overcome by this, he would simply be out there and try to lead by example. Did he have anything to offer anymore? That remained to be seen, but it was what it was. He did not have much (in his mind) to offer before, and yet he remained. Now it was different.

Was it though?

The galaxy had seen “peace” time and again. The guard was let down, the populace stopped understanding the need for what was in place. Sure, it was a time to rest, and to reflect, but where there is light, there will always be dark. This was not paranoia, this was history, and those who fail at history are doomed to repeat it.

You know, they have “rimshots” in this galaxy too…

Whatever would happen would be addressed in the future, right now, the galaxy has earned its rest. The Jedi will stand watch.

One of them, anyway.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Wearing: Glitterstim Original
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Tag: Briana Sal-Soren Cybelle Sal-Soren

He hadn't been sleeping well. It was part concern for Cybelle. He didn't feel right leaving her alone. Returning to his quarters, and laying on his bed left him staring at the ceiling wondering why he should ever be away from her. It was love. Sure. But he knew it was also fear. The desire to protect her had never been stronger. Two off-world missions, two near-death experiences for her. She was capable. But he couldn't lose her. Not again. Not for good.

When he had been able to finally fall asleep, his mind seemed captured during its REM cycle. His dreams had been becoming increasingly more vivid. More real. Every time there was something different about him. A darkness that could only be explained by full embrace of evil. At every turn there was the shadow clouded woman, face shrouded from his view. Unheard whispers stirring his mind towards intents that he felt guilty about the moment he awoke. Wallgof had done something to him. Planted something in his mind.

It all left him...morose.

His sister's voice ripped him from his self-examination, and his eyes turned to her reflecting the fireworks from above. "I am resigning my post in Hapes. It is too much...there is too much...going on. Other than that...convincing Cybelle to stay here while I go and find mom," Brandyn said with a shrug.

It was the first time he had phrased it that way, 'find mom'. It made his heart sink a little. She really did need to be found. Her lack of communication was eerie. Disconcerting to say the very least.

"Coruscant is only my home if Cy is here," he said plainly. He didn't mean to be snippy, and a frown afterwards showed that he was aware that his internal struggles were manifesting as niggles.

"What about you, Bri?" He said, finding his leaning spot again. In all that had happened, they really had not had time to discuss the strange occurrences between them...the burgeoning dyad connection that had been slowly revealing itself over the past several months.

"Aiden proposed yet?" He said, trademark teasing smirk revealing his pleasure in the jab.

 

[Alexander Hayes]

It was over, it was finally…over.

Alex walked with a slight limp in his right side. Tough as he might be, falling and rolling with a speeder almost crushing him was going to leave a mark. One of many new ones that marred his body now. His face was scratched up a bit, from one too many close calls on Exegol.

But now he was safe, back on Coruscant.

The K’paur peered up as another round of fireworks soared up into the sky, exploding in a burst of bright colours. He could hear the cheering, the celebration. It brought a smile to Alex’s face, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

It was a victory, they had won.

And yet, there was still a part of him that felt…hollow.

He walked a bit further, stopping before the memorial for all those that had fallen to the Brotherhood of the Maw. There were more names on it compared to the last time he had visited. Alex’s eyes scanned across them, not needing long to land upon a specific section.

His comrades, his brothers in arms that had died on Selvaris. Those that he had trained, lived and fought with. Teenagers, all naive and eager to do their part for the Alliance. Now all gone, falling in the line of duty protecting those that had fled from the Maw’s brutal assault.

“My brothers, you have been avenged.” Alex said, falling to one knee with a painful wince. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it.”

 

[Jand Talo]

After what seemed a short lifetime, the war with the Maw was over.

Apparently.

Jand had been on the Maw-Alliance frontline for many months, engaged in consistent battle, where he had helped to fell a number of Mawites and dark siders. In some ways it had become his purpose, it had been where his service as a Jedi had been most useful, but in others it had removed him from other aspects of being a Jedi. That didn't bother the Padawan so much as the looming sense of uncertainty about what to do next. If the claims could be believed, and peace truly was on the horizon, then it remained for Jand to seek out new purpose beyond persistent war.

Yet, perhaps owing to his realist nature, Jand didn't believe it was over.

The battle on Exegol had been the end of one war, but there would be more. There always was. In a galaxy filled with billions of species, cultures and beliefs, there were going to be those that clashed, and those that escalated beyond disagreement and came to confrontation. Not all of those would be of the dark side, and not all of those would be from the Alliance, but there most certainly would be more war.

Jand would not let his guard down, there was more do to.

Preparation.

The losses in the Maw-Alliance war, the Second Great Hyperspace War as it had been called, were unfortunate for the Jedi Order. Some important sentients were lost, especially those with the experience of Jedi Masters, though that wasn't to say Jand felt lower ranked members were worth less; it was mainly the knowledge and guidance potential that was lost, likely never to be gained again, because that individual was gone.

The Padawan stood near Master Vanagor, silent in the shadow of the larger sentient, who had been busy with other things up until the ceremony. It had not been difficult to seek out the tower of a man amongst the crowds, especially with the Force as a guide, though Jand did wonder at the future of their mentorship. With each passing battle, there was a sense that Jand's experience and applicability as a Jedi grew also, and the Nagai felt he was comparable in skill to some of his peers who had moved on as Jedi Knights.

Yet, that was a decision for Caltin to make.

Jand would remain by his mentor's side until determined otherwise.

"Master Vanagor, I will be traveling to the south galaxy shortly," Jand said during a more quiet moment, as he looked to the larger Jedi. "I have been tasked with some preliminary scouting of suspected Sith regions."

The information was shared like one might expect a mundane gossip topic.

"With the dissolution of the Mawite, and the lessened war-time assignments, I would like to double my efforts in combative development and lessons, Master... in preparation for the next conflict."

Jand glanced to the Jedi Master.

"To take this time of quiet and make the most of it."

Caltin Vanagor​

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

Outfit: Jedi robes
Tag: Corazona von Ascania | Open

Attending the funeral of many others who had passed in the wars for this time of peace, it was something that Dreidi knew that she needed to do. Having attended her own father's funeral many years ago, Dreidi was never surprised at the quietness and solemnness that people felt at funerals. She wore her actual Jedi robes for such events, a rarity in the young Jedi as she had been clear that she was never a fan of the oversized pyjamas. However, out of respect for tradition and respect for those willing to sacrifice everything for peace. Her father had been one that sacrificed his life in the hopes of peace, she had always resented that in the past, giving up his comfortable life with his family for war. It was years of being in battle pursuing peace, later conversations in the netherworld with her father and therapy that had allowed Dreidi stand, sympathetic and understanding of the bravery it takes someone to give it their all in war.

Dreidi sighed as she thought about her future within the Jedi Order, what was next for her now that they had finished the war with the Maw. Was the Sith Order the next target? Would they have to hunt down the remnants of the Mawites and ensure both root and stem was removed? There would always be more conflict, at least that was how Dreidi was seeing the galaxy. How it seemed to be between Jedi and Sith, always another conflict or fight. Dreidi paused and pulled out a deathstick, lighting it up and taking a long drag as she sighed.

Looking around, she spotted Corazona, the memories of the engagement celebrations sprung to mind. The antics of the droid and porg combo as well as the Jedi making it clear their dislike and disagreement with the arranged marriage. It was not a particularly happy event and surely not one that would be stress free either. Dreidi wandered over to the fellow Padawan and offered a deathstick from her pack. "Want one? I find that they can help with stress and the emotions that these funerals can bring."

"Did you lose anyone close due to this war?" Dreidi asked, there was concerned tone over the breathlessness that another Padawan was feeling.

 

[Aeris Lashiec]

The screen flicked on and bathed the unlit room with a solitary, mute source of light.

"In life, Master Varo—"

The screen flicked off.

"In life," The screen flicked on again. "Master Varobalder—"

The screen flicked off.

And then on again.

"In life, Master Varobalder was a sage of quite some renown who helped and aided the Jedi through some of its worst tragedies."

The rest of her empty post-mortem platitudes continued to fall on deaf ears as Aeris stared herself blind in the brightness of the screen until the darkness of the room itself began to imprint upon her vision and the screen flicked off again. The shimmer of the screen still burned upon her cornea, still forcing her to see that image of her friend even as she closed her eyes. In the dark Aeris could contemplate her existence and her friend's now semi-palpable non-existence, and how he had seen fit to be nowhere yet everywhere all at once.

She supposed that she should have been happy for him and that the war was over and that the Maw were destroyed. And yet here she sat, in the dark, as the world celebrated an act of terrorism that much like any other terror had been committed in the name of righteousness.

This was the message the Jedi and Alliance both had decided to send the galaxy. Oppose us and die. Oppose us and be eradicated. We are right, you are wrong, and you will listen to us, only us, and nobody else. Only we can help guide you to salvation, towards what is right and what is good and proper.

Aeris had always questioned her faith and her place in this order and whether or not she belonged here. There were people she couldn't stand the thought of disappointing or failing, people that cared for her and that she cared for as well. And yet some of these were the same people that greenlit destruction on a planetary scale, the very same people that forced Aeris to take a cold hard look at her inaction and to either swallow her principles and get with it or get out. Naturally these things weren't said explicitly, not really, but it was most certainly there in the unspoken understanding that if she stayed after what had happened she was okay with condoning this display of force to quell the opposition.

In their attack on Exegol, the Jedi had proven themselves as complicit in their pursuit of vengeance as those they claimed to be better than. What part of this did not justify an equally aggressive response towards Tython, Ruusan, or Ahch-To? If people were willing to believe this was a moment of peace and not a moment of infinite escalation; they were wrong.

Aeris deposited her robe on the floor of her room got dressed before she moved over to open the door to either join in the 'celebration' or do what she knew was the right thing to do. The others would have to forgive her disheveled look, in truth she did not care to make herself presentable to anyone in this building at this moment. She was just another ghost drifting through the corridors, just as it should have been.

 

[Valery Noble]

Coruscant Temple

​

Outfit: Factory Link
Appearance: Link
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Kahlil Noble | Open

Vera giggled and beamed a bright smile when he called her Padawan Noble. She had heard it many times before, but it always felt fun when her parents called her that. In his arms, the little Noble's eyes then followed her dad's gaze to her mother, who smiled in return and stepped close enough for a quick family hug.

"Oh yeah, you're grounded until at least the arm is fixed," Valery told him with a smirk, knowing that the eye was going to be a lot more of a challenge. It wasn't damaged, but something far more complex had greyed out the eye underneath the patch. Something they'd figure out later.

"I think it's time for Jasper," Valery then said, as she turned to look at Amani Serys summoning Jasper Kai'el forward. It brought a big grin to her face, knowing everything that had happened leading up to this. "Maybe some others will show up too, so let's walk around, hm?"

"Yeah!" Vera exclaimed and hopped down so her dad could use his one good arm again.

"Daddy?" she asked as they walked. "Do they have snackies here?"