I Made You a Bird

[Dirk Bannahan]

Virgillia. . .​

A certain temple. . .​

​

​

Deep within the Bastion of the Ren were countless mediation chambers that were designed to cater to the whims of the user to make maximum use of what little time there was for a member of the secretive sect of Force practitioners. In a particularly large one designed for group focusing was a lone operative. Cast entirely in the dimmest of faint purple lighting she basked deep into the recesses of her mind, exploring the Force, its strength, and her relativity within it all.

Peace. True peace.​

Wrapped tightly in a hooded cloak, she chanted over and over in a monotonous drone -the words themselves bleeding together to become a low and throaty hum. Directly to her front rose the silhouette of a rather unassuming lightsaber. This device continuously was assembled and taken apart. Again and again the hilt was constructed until the entire practice flowed ceaselessly to the timing of her own rumbling. Surrounding the entire mediative affair was an aura warping upon itself -gas like and malicious as it warbled coldly in the area.

[member="Castor Ren"] | @all Ren who wish to join​

 

[Progflaw99]

He was a wanderer by nature. That instinct had only grown since being inducted into the Order of Ren. It was that instinct that had found him wandering about the Bastion. *It has been far too long.* thought the Knight. The Bastion had been his home, still was, but the memories here were anything but few. During the Ssi-Ruuvi raid on the Bastion he and his brothers and sisters had fought off the reptilian attackers. Cloaked in the blood of the Saurians they'd pushed them back and prevented them from gaining a foothold in the halls of the Bastion of Ren. *Brothers and sisters...* he mused. *...some of whom are no longer with us.* Contrary to what might have even been preferable, not all had died in service to Sieger Ren, there were a handful who had betrayed the trust of their order, instead choosing to defect to various organizations throughout the galaxy. Trained by the Order, finding them had proven quite difficult.

Castor had spent the last few months tracking down dead ends before he'd received the recall message. Simple, it revealed little - even now he was merely waiting to be told the reason for such a directive. For lack of ought else to do, his footsteps had carried him throughout the corridors of the Bastion, wandering still through quiet halls and past numerous training rooms. Soon ahead, if memory served, he would find a series of meditation chambers leading up to a large vaulted hall - the training chamber. It was there he recounted numerous hours of training both with sword and saber, learning himself as well as teaching those disciples and Knights who had shown an interest. He had grown up a blademaster, learning to fight with weighted sword - a lightsaber had made him only more deadly. Even so, Castor reveled in using his true blade, a weapon designed not to kill quickly, but to kill painfully. It would run an enemy through, it would slice through flesh and pulverize bone. Though it may not have been as versatile as a saber, it performed its purpose exceptionally.

Even now the blade rest at his belt, the hilt gently pressing against his side. A flash of memory brought him back to the planet of Mustafar, his encounter with the Jedi named Jamie Pyne now Queen of Naboo drew a smirk from the man. The past year had been an interesting one. Approaching the end of the row of meditation chambers Castor sense a presence, his features hardening. *Unfamiliar. Tranquil.* He did not come close to knowing every disciple of Ren, nor every Knight but this presence was subtly different than those he had spent so much time mentoring. Smooth, elusive, calm. Unusual for a Ren. He slowed, peering around the corner for a moment, observing quietly by the chamber entrance. He would wait, no effort to hide his presence made. When the figure within decided to address his appearance, only then would he intrude.

[member="Racosidae"]​

 

[Connor Harrison]

It had been a long time. A long time indeed. It felt like another lifetime when Connor had stood at the bottom of the Bastion stairs on Virgillia. It was another lifetime ago.

Last time Connor had stood here, he had all 4 human limbs, not 3 and 1 cybernetic. He had friendships with two Ren - [member="Ara Zambrano"] and young Kaalia – best friends and troublemakers, but mighty solid warriors. Since then, the red-head had been swayed by the Sith Lords of the Empire, and Ara was a Queen. They had made good on their destiny.

Connor had aimed to reach a noble title himself – a Lord, or a Master of Ren, something of worth. Now, he was simply a Master of the Force he had lived and breathed for decades, and back at the bottom of a ladder he had slipped and fallen from a year or more ago.

Both the Ren girls had followed their paths. Connor had fallen from his.

He started up the stairs in his black and silver attire, the cowl falling behind his back. He looked up at the magnificent building and he took each step, and placed his good hand on the lightsaber hilt at his side. A small smile formed. Why, it was here that he had forged the cross-guard design of his own, only to lose it in the flames and lava of Maena along with his arm.

Just another mark on the canvas of his failures.

Now, he was here again to see what the First Order and Ren were doing, and to see where he could fit in. To see where he would find resistance, but also be welcomed and get back on that path his own lack of belief and delusion had knocked him off.

[member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Racosidae"]

 

[WolfMortum]

The Bastion of Ren,​

Training Facility & Base of Operations for the Order of Ren,​

Virgillia.​

​

The Upper Echelon of the Order of Ren had sent out a recall notice withdrawing all significant assets back towards ground zero.

In appropriate action, the swift response to their summons, the Furious Class Corvette broke through the atmosphere of Virgillia descending down through the clouds to bring into view the vast landscape where he had trained and learned to come into his own among the Knights of Ren.

With Brennan Cabrol were those who fell under his direct command, the Omega Four-Five-Nine, special forces sanction of the Council of Ren approved and monitored by that of Decitus Ren, she whom stood above them all as the leading Master of the Order for whom acted in the name of Sieger Ren and relayed between her subordinates and the Council itself.

Delengtha sat within the cockpit of the Corvette handing the vessels descent, he was the only one among them not versed in the learning and practice of the ways of the Force; a former elite member of the Stormtrooper Corps for the 501st legion out of the northern territories, he like the others had been handpicked for indoctrination by Brennan for the skills and military achievements the First Order Security Bureau had been able to recover.

Behind Brennan whom stood looking over the dashboard of the cockpit, his gaze upon their intended landing zone at the base of the great Bastion, Arkaos and Nocturnus stood silently, both aggrieved with one another for a history of violence and resentment towards their peer, both brothers born out of Eriadu, their underlying hatred for each other had been quelled only due to the dominion the Knights of Ren had forced upon them through their initial entry into service under him.

A great deal had changed since Brennan had last been here, his entire appearance the most dramatic of them all. He had received the summons from the Pacanth Expanse for which he had served in duty alongside the Queen.

[member="Ara Zambrano"] of whom had been informed of their return, had other duties however and whether she would eventually come to answer the word of the Council or otherwise continue to follow in their bidding from beyond the veil of knowledge most confidential to the majority of the First Order's military roster, it was Brennan's duty to return home and recount the memories and consequences that came with his former life.

Touching down upon the landing pad, they would be greeted with the typical security personnel, word being sent ahead that the new delegation from Panatha had arrived and been cleared for entrance into the Bastion of Ren, intel being relayed back to that of Decitus Ren who would no doubt expect to hear from him sooner or later.

[member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Racosidae"] | [member="Connor Harrison"]​

 

[Connor Harrison]

A ship took off from behind where he stood, and Connor turned to see Corvette turn in mid-air and the boosters kick in to take it up and out to the atmosphere and away. His eyes went down to the landing pad below the Bastion and saw some new figures coming up. More new faces to meet.

Connor walked into the large lobby area, decorated with stone and flaming pillars and built-in holo feeds direct from Dosuun. His boots tapped gently as he walked slowly through, looking this way and that, seeing some of the Ren going about their business and crimson guards on patrol. The layout would be the same as he remembered no doubt; the armoury, the training rooms, the rear exit to the coastline, the upper council chambers.

Some chatter caught his attention from behind, and he turned, side-stepping a little to allow those who were obviously here for a purpose pass through. A more military looking man - [member="Brennan Cabrol"] – was on his own walking through.

”Excuse me,” Connor said, stepping out, ”but you look one of these parts. Do you know who’s in charge here?”

Probably not someone often said around the Bastion, but then all places would have upper-commands and Masters, so he needed to know who were the game changers and decision makers.

[member="Racosidae"] | [member="Castor Ren"]

 

[Dirk Bannahan]

Subtle eddies contribute to the miasma developing from the meditation chambers, billowing outwards and only perceivable as Force energy. However, as the novice Ren pushed deeper and deeper into her subconsciousness a further, more refined splatter of power pooled about her soul-self. This energy began to permeate her being so throughly that now the corrupted aura manifested in the form of noxious and insidious looking red gas that clung unto Racosidae's body. Within this cloud, terrible portents of hyper violence began to slice through her semblance of inner peace. Stromtroopers squealed as plates of plastoid were torn apart. Officers whinnied as their bodies were impaled by a set of clawed hands which indulged in the spectacle of tearing flesh asunder and letting the fresh blood and heat rain down upon her.

A fantasy? A power trip?

Heavy lids peeled apart with the weight of massive doors creaking apart, and her glowing red eyes scanned the room. Once they fell upon [member="Castor Ren"] the introspective aura fled as though sucked out from a vacuum. Distracted by the presence, the lightsaber floating straight ahead of her nearly bounce upon the floor -though a quick reflexive catch saved the device from such abuse.

She arose, clearly modulating her breathing in order to deflate the tinging sense poking out of her upper chest.

"Brother-Knight, we have company coming." Her raspy voice preened to the point of distaste, clearly unhappy with the idea of outsiders entering the temple.

"Shall we greet them?" The young Ren gripped tightly upon her hilt, perhaps anticipating the threat of violence.

[member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | @All Ren welcome​

 

[WolfMortum]

Brennan Cabrol would await the security envoy to leave him before turning to look towards the approaching Disciples of Ren, Omega Four-Five-Nine. It was they for whom [member="Connor Harrison"] would hear the quiet discussion for which Brennan would simply see them report with their superiors and otherwise seek to have one of the maintenance crews on duty overseeing the resupply and movement of cargo too and from their vessel.

Once upon another life, had he been approached in such a manner, this stranger to him would be looking upon a man of full plated armor, the visage of might and intimidation that was the cybernetic Knight of Ren he had once been. It was both a glorious and yet peculiar experience to be standing upon the Bastion for which he had given two lives for now, in a manner of speaking, and to go unnoticed for his former rank and file; there would be something about the gaze that he would turn upon Connor Harrison, a hint of pride for which wasn't unlike most Officers of the First Order though his was deep seated and enveloped within a smug arrogance for which he would ensure remained buried; as much so as his signature within the Force, suppressed to all.

Looking Connor over in brief study, Brennan's head canted to the side in sparse question, a response to the others curiosities. Fortunately they had not crossed paths before now for both of them had certain vices of their past for which might have resulted in a far more demanding and confrontational sense of his duties as a member of the Order. The current presiding upon the name however had been stricken from record and Harrison no longer need concern himself with the past, least it be to negate any repetitions in his immediate future.

"There are strict protocols in place here within this Facility" he responded, expectation seeping through in his words to betray the belief that Connor already knew this; "Given your presence, I would assume you are aware of this". The names that would other-wise be offered to him would all be paired with specific identification codes, only their code-names and alias' within the Order of Ren given up, least the nature of the Bastion of Ren be forfeit.

Lifting his right arm, the device strapped securely to his fore-arm would come to life upon the motion of his left passing over the holo-graphic motion sensors. The luminous and somewhat transparent vision of a screen bringing up a list of data would offer a little light between the two while Brennan sought to question the man once more; "[member="Castor Ren"] is currently on site, he holds the authority you seek". Castor Ren was a name accompanied with a face Brennan knew well. In fact he was the only remaining member of the Knights of Ren that might recognize Brennan for who he was outside of Samka Derith and Ara Zambrano, they of whom were alone in their possession of such confidential knowledge.

[member="Racosidae"]​