Initiation (Elensa Jari)

[WolfMortum]

The Academy of Skye,
0700 GST.

The dark silhouette of the Knight of Ran stood upon the cusp of the landing pad, head raised and eclipsing the sun as it sought to rise from beyond the mountain ranges; through the black visor of his Helm he watched as the designated transport descended towards the overhang for which the new initiates of the Order of Ren would step forward into their new lives. As was typical for Caehl, his black robes draped over his Armor, his hood sagging around his head and loosely falling to the back of his feet to envelope his form in discretion of his natural features; the Knights of Ren all known for their rather dark persona and representation of the one Supreme Leader of the First Order, [member="Sieger Ren"].

Today was not of his usual dealings, word had reached him from the upper echelon that they were to be receiving an interesting group into the fold today; among them a notable associate to the Sith Empire, they of whom the First Order Security Bureau had a fair handle on when it become of such persons entering into Imperial Space such as theirs. As a ranking member of the Order, Caehl Ren stood with his hands behind his back, watching as the vessel descended unto the surface, the rush of air from the repulsorlifts causing his robes to catch in the gust and be blown back behind him to reveal his lightsaber and heavier attire beneath.

It was presumed that this [member="Elensa Jari"] sought to become one of them, having been pointed in the direction of the rest of her peers and soon to become Disciples of the Supreme Leader's vision for the Galaxy, she was to be gauged in her initial days in order to ensure there be no threat of infiltration even from those considered allies beyond the grasp of official documentation and politics.

Filing out of the small craft, those who would step before him would each meet with the silent visage of his mask, he neglecting all but the face of Elensa for whom he had been briefed about prior to his venture to the world of Skye. Apparently mute according to her file, yet too experienced within the Force, to what degree the Caehl would find out on his own. Were she to prove loyal then perhaps she would become a defined presence among them, yet were she to justify distrust among them, Caehl would be tasked with the responsibility of handling the situation one way or another.

 

[Elensa Jari]

Morning arrived on the distant world of Skye, a soft light heralding in the distance that awoke the pale blue sky with blends of oranges and reds, as though the world below was aflame, and only the planet atmosphere had escaped the inferno. From space, it had appeared a simple blue-green marble hanging against the blackness of space, but now, seeing it from the surface, it was clearly more than it had appeared. The shuttle had set down upon somewhere in the mountainous regions that seemed to dominate much of the visible surface, towering high above the natural sea level. Viewed from here, it would be easy to feel awed by the world below, but perhaps also easy to view it with some sense of superiority, a monarch gazing down benevolently upon one's kingdom.

The glare of the sunshine contrasted sharply with the gloom of the transport interior, a sudden assault upon the eyes which slowly calmed as the eyes adjusted, details emerging that had otherwise been concealed by the glare. Stepping off the boarding ramp and gazing around, moving off to one side to allow others to disembark, Elensa took a moment to collect her thoughts and take stock of her surroundings, taking a moment to gather the black veil at her head and draw it over her face, protecting her from glare and gaze alike.

Those others she had been herded in with for transport to Skye had generally been more exciteable, certainly a good deal more talkative than Elensa herself, most of them dressed in drab black colours, much as would have been true had this shuttle been arriving at a Sith Academy. But where that would have been hushed, all tight with tension and fear, this felt more exhultation. Not the feelings of people who knew they had to prove superior or die, but instead were staring destiny in the face, that moment where they might become greater than a faceless cog in a great machine.

Speaking of faceless... Her eyes locked onto a masked being standing nearby, dressed in black just as she was, robes over armour, very Sith, she had to admit, wondering if the man knew how well he might have blended in on distant Bastion. She could sense the Force in this one, a cold sense of appraisal in his presence, clearly watching for something. Or waiting for someone. With the others filing down the boarding ramp and clearly headed for the Academy's interior, she had a sense of precisely who that would be.

Shouldering the slender lightsaber pike she carried, adjusting the strap that banded across her chest to hold the weapon in place behind her back, the young woman stepped clear of the boarding ramp, her heeled boots tapping against the stone softly as she approached. Her hands moved defly, first removing one soft silk glove, then the other, revealing pale slender hands that served to be the only skin exposed by her outfit. Making sure she had the attention of the man standing there, she made several gestures that seemed random at first, but coalesced into clear structure.

Are you here for me?, she signed, hands moving towards to form individual letters rather than full words, to make it easier for him to understand her. Most people weren't sufficiently adept with GSL to read full signing, but simple letters weren't hard to make out, provided she gestured slowly. Shall we be friends in this moment, or enemies?

Not that she cared to be friends, but if this one had intended to stand in her way, to take offense at her presence due to past affiliations...well, better to know now, so she could act to end him and move past his cooling corpse to do as she intended.

| [member="Brennan Cabrol"] |​

 

[WolfMortum]

[member="Elensa Jari"] was attentive in her notice of him, boding well for her adherence to the dominant presence over that of the other personnel hoarding their group towards the Academy. At the least, it seemed her eyes worked well despite her inability to communicate verbally. Her use of sign language came as both something of an annoyance as well as a point of note, a challenge for which they would both be required to exceed were she to get anywhere within the Order of Ren positioned under his watch.

"My name is Caehl Ren..." He spoke up in response to her motions, disregarding them and what they might have tried to convey, instead prioritizing the facts for which she would learn to tolerate; "I serve the Supreme Leader as a Knight of Ren, something that you apparently wish to aspire to..." his words were spoken through the audio receptors of his helm, changing the sound of his voice to disguise his natural tone with the distortion of static and mechanical conveyance, they were clear to understand yet offered something of a darker deceitful nature in the Ren's wish to avert the knowledge of his former identity where his representation of the First Order and his place as one of their elite took precedence.

"The First Order is aware of where you have come from, your affiliations have been noted and unlike your peers..." His right hand would extend to point in the direction of her fellow disciples for which they had moved on by this point to be greeted by the Masters of the Academy, the learning center for all fresh and eager personnel entering the Order; "You will not remain here but instead become my Apprentice. For the foreseeable future you will work with me to secure your place and hone whatever skills the Sith have not. If you prove yourself loyal, I will make you a sword for which the Supreme Leader will use to strike down those whom oppose Order and Security in the Galaxy...".

His words however were proven already, his claims backed up with his experience having first started out in exactly the place she stood facing the greetings of [member="Castor Ren"] and training alongside Disciples, his mentor Talon for whom had long since vanished from their ranks now, his history removed from the First Order Security Bureau's database, all that was to learn about in Caehl Ren was that he had ascended through persistence of strength and pride in his duty. Over time, Elensa Jari would do the same.

"Are you capable in the use of Telepathy, I trust you are experienced beyond the rest of this group you've come in with...".

 

[Elensa Jari]

Yes, apparently something I wish to aspire to..., Elensa thought sardonically, listening to the man's words. They were conveyed with the typical self-assuredness of one who has no real reason to be standing there other than to speak words you had little choice but to listen to, the kind used to being heard and obeyed. The static distortion provided by his mask did little to interfere with the tone, though undoubtedly he thought so: it simply made his words sound somewhat more hollow, as though coming from beneath the ground rather than from him directly. A cheap trick, but one I've seen more than a few times. He was going to have to do better than that to prove intimidating.

It was a bad habit among the males of the Galaxy, this wish to be seen in a dominant, superior position to those around them, either seeking to command respect from those they saw as equals, to demand subservience or even worship from those beneath them, and ever seeking to attract the notice of their superiors, that they might rise. Such petty games they do play, and all for what? This one would find himself sorely disappointed if he demanded any such from her - he would earn it, or not, as his actions demanded.

Still, there was much to be admired in the First Order's ideology, and the Knights of Ren gave themselves over in service to something greater than themselves - something the Sith often aspired, but ultimately failed, to do. Theirs is only self-worship, so any service they give to the Empire is only a pale reflection of the adulation they feel is their due. Perhaps this Supreme Leader would prove to be another of similar kind, one for whom the glory of their empire only served to match an unquenchable thirst for power, but that remained to be seen. And, as always, one must judge a master by the nature of their servants.

She stood there silently for a moment after his words drifted away into silence, a pause of a few heartbeats, perhaps even too long to be comfortable, but it gave her a moment to reflect. How much to reveal of myself to this one? Elensa was, as yet, uncertain of the way the Ren would operate: she knew them to be different to the Sith, but how? That was the big question of it all. The softest of sighs escaping her, the young woman strode forward with unhesitating steps to bridge the gap between them, then reached out with a single un-gloved hand to touch the tall human on his armoured bicep, and sent her thoughts racing forth, using the Force to cross that invisible divide between minds.

Images floated between the two of them now, memories offered with the sort of vivid detail one might find in a holodocumentary, every sense conveyed with a clarity that she often understood to be disorienting to some. She showed him snapshots: the wild shock of an explosion emanating from a point of unknown origin. The smell of chemicals mixed with acrid smoke and the offensive powdery scent of brick dust. A severe ringing sound in the ears that muted all others, as though she were floating underwater, everything slightly muffled. And pain, a sharp but distant sensation across her throat. Blood flowing, but not being pumped away as though her arteries had been severed. A gentle drip of red.

A faint smile curving her lips beneath the semi-transparent veil that covered her face, Elensa released his grip on the man's arm, lowering it to her side. I trust that answers your question, she thought silently, having shown him that moment when her voice had been taken from her, but simultaneously conveying the fact that she had other means to communicate, if she wished. It wasn't her preference, though: there was something barbaric about allowing another in her mind, particularly a male. If he wanted more than that, he would have to work for it, simple as that.

Perhaps it would serve as a suitable test of him to see if he could cope with her preferences in that regard. Some would seek to force more communication from her than she was prepared to give them, others would simply accept it. What path will you take, I wonder?

| [member="Brennan Cabrol"] |​

 

[WolfMortum]

While he did not move an inch from her approaching hand, the Force around him shifted within him, a menacing darkness overtaking the fore-front of his mind to put forth an impenetrable mental wall that [member="Elensa Jari"] would be unable to breach, the Dominion over ones mind and the Domination towards another's was one of his greatest feats in training and in telepathy his skill was unparalleled across the Knights of Ren, a result of his former experiences and devotion to the Supreme Leader for which he had given up his life and died not once but twice when taking into account the reason essence transfer wrought upon him by the likes of [member="Ara Zambrano"] and [member="Darth Carnifex"], his control since more than doubled, a necessary effort taken into the absolute power over himself knowing the abyss for which had nearly taken him unto whatever new territory awaited those whom passed on to the nether.

As her fingers reached his arm, Caehl Ren would exert only a taste of this power, his consciousness flooding her mind, taking nothing nor seeking answers but merely harnessing the anger that arose in response to the audacity she portrayed. The vision for which he would project to her, the very hand that she had extended to him contorting, fingers bubbling with some sort of growth beneath the skin, slowly gathering and moving towards her wrist seeking to move further up her arm. The Woman's veins would turn black and her skin begin to deteriorate, to rot and fall away as what appeared to be black insects ate away at her from the inside out. There was nothing to stop her from ridding herself of this vision, were she to only try; whatever pain that she experienced would be the manipulation of her brain trying to simulate what it believed to be real and yet given her experience she would likely find her feet soon enough...-Until then however, the words of Caehl Ren resounded within her, a tone for which took no liking to her attitude she had left so vulnerable to be read.

"All that enter the Order of Ren are expected to obey the chain of Command. Order dictates obedience and with obedience requires the awareness of self; knowing your place. Whatever position you held with the Sith is no more, whatever life you claimed to own is to be forgotten and whatever respect you feel you are owed is false...." As he spoke these words, were she not already moving to release herself from the vision he had imposed upon her, Caehl Ren would so himself, the air around them clearing, the darkness that had shrouded all swiftly receding to reveal the docking bay floor for which overhung the cliffs of Skye.

"What you've shown me, these memories of your past. Push them back; that life ends today in exchange of a path that will empower you with the tools to become an asset to change, an agent of security and inevitable peace in the Galaxy. You will learn to shirk your weaknesses, to forget your fears for you will no longer be the person you were before...-You will be molded anew in the image of his will..." turning, he would begin to walk and expect her to follow. The entrance to the Academy of Skye would swiftly open in response to their movement, a loud hiss of hydrolics and the release of heated air escaping their inner workings would announce their entrance, the great hall that they would enter, filled with Disciples all stood within rows before the Knights of Ren that were positioned upon a higher floor, inducting them all into the Order of Ren.

From the back of the hall, Caehl would speak further in only that she would hear him. "The Initiates of Ren spend their first years here, training with a variety of weapons and studying numerous paths in which to become of use to the First Order. Naval officers, agents of the First Order's Security Bureau, Masters of the Force, any and all needs that we might take up in pursuit of conquest over the uncivilized worlds squabbling over personal gains and self-righteous desires that negate and deter true Order. War is created by such peoples and we are used to eliminate them that peace might finally be attained within the sectors we control. Without direction, chaos bleeds into everything and without the First Order, Anarchy will continue to reign. This is the doctrine for which the Supreme Leader speaks and we enforce".

"What you must decide is whether you are willing to follow, to start anew and to earn your place among the Order of Ren, as all those before you have done. Decide now, for this is the only time in which your resignation will be offered with the company of your life in-tact. Should you chose to continue, there is no turning away".

 

[Elensa Jari]

Ren's words washed over here with an almost hypnotic-like sensation, that strange metallic voice oddly somniferous, making her feel a little light-headed, almost dizzy, though Elensa knew herself to be in complete control. A thought intruded as she reflected on this, a sense of something odd. A tingling that started at her fingertips, where she had clutched the man's arm, first tickling, then becoming a sharper pain, irritant, then burning, her whole hand feeling aflame, as though she had plunged it into an open flame. Her lips parted in a silent gasp, her eyes flickering to the bare skin of her hand, seeking awareness of what was happening.

The pale skin she knew to be there was black and necrotic, the spreading sensation of it conveying agony along the nerves of her arm as they slowly decayed and perished, cutting off feeling as it progressed, a sudden cessation that was as jarring as the pain had been. Carefully-manicured nails slips from their beds, the skin around them darkened and pulsated with a sickening life that emerged in the form of some dark insects bursting forth from the flesh they had eaten away at. And yet without any prior sensation or warning of their presence. That was where she understood what was happening here, and it only sparked anger within her. And you would ask me to trust you, when you would invade my thoughts so? Such blatant arrogance in this one.

Teeth gritted against a pain she knew to be illusory, but nonetheless keenly felt, the young woman moved her free left hand in complex pattern, a circular motion then with shorter gestures contained within it, her thoughts diverted away from the sensations that she was doing her best to block, instead uttering words within her mind that would have been matched by a verbal incantation, had the ability to speak been left to her. Whisps of Force energy gathered around her as she continued, drawn upon to help fortify her mind against an attack, as though smoke had gathered and consolidated into a wall around her thoughts.

Clever, but you're not the first to think to play with my mind, she informed him with their telepathic contact maintained via their physical connection. Her hand had returned to normal as the shield slipped into place, the illusion banished as that invasive contact had been pushed aside. Elensa summoned up a recollection of her first meeting with the Sith Lord Ignus, showing the Ren the way he had set the forest around them alight, the flames catching on the delicate fabric of her dress and spreading their way along her body, burning away nerves and tissues. Or so she had thought. Clarity had proved the nature of the deception, and she had studied thereafter to provide herself with protections against such invasions of her mental privacy. And you do not play with a Sorceress without consequences.

The anger of what he had dared surged through her, and she felt the familiar taste of hatred, recognition of the audacity of what a simple man had done to her, and she knew well to put such feelings to use. Her pale-blue eyes narrowed coldly, and she gathered forth the energies she could feel all around her, drawing them into her in the way one might inhale a lungful of oxygen, sending that energy surging through cells, stretching forth to the hand that had returned to its earlier state. A short burst of blue-white energy coiled forth from her fingertips, arcing in the short distance between them, a warning only. Any more tricks from this one, and she'd teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.

It was true, what he had said: she was no longer Sith, and that time was to be kept in the past, but they had nonetheless taught her much. How to survive exquisite agony, how to draw upon it, how to find strength in moments where one might only suffer pain, and to turn such to her advantage. This one...well, he certainly acted like he was a Sith, touching on their dark powers and manipulating them to his own ends, much as she did. But you are not a Sith, so be wary of trying to claim their inheritance, she thought reflectively.

Their confrontation ended in but a moment, she lowered her hands to her side and watched as the Ren stalked his way into the depths of the Academy itself, the sunlight vanishing from view as she made to follow him, the soft folds of her long dress whispering gently against the ankles of her boots as she moved. An ultimatum offered, then: serve or depart, the only time such a mercy will be extended, the blonde thought with amusement. Such was also the Sith way, as she'd been taught from the first: obedience to one's superiors and servitude to the Empire was the way. And the First Order seems to share much of that ideology, it would seem. Still, she had not come with the intention of being turned away, or of relenting in her intent. Here I stand, here I remain. I won't be moved by you.

Submission was ever a difficult thing, something the mind struggled with, that desire to stand apart and remain superior, forced now to fight with the demands of one who would accept nothing short of obedience. And so it all comes back to that same lesson: to find power, one must first submit to that of another. In some ways, it was almost a comforting thing, something that felt familiar to her, a consistency within her life that had not relented, despite all that had happened to her. And so the path forward seems obvious.

Her fingers moved again, forming simple letters that she knew would be unmistakeable even to one untutored in the technique. An admission, an agreement, one bound by a heartbeat and a life measured thereafter by that bond, all resting upon a simple word, indicated in a flicker of fingers: Yes.

| [member="Brennan Cabrol"] |​

 

[WolfMortum]

The electrical currents for which [member="Elensa Jari"] discharged towards him in defiant warning would fall upon deaf ears, the Armor for which he bore acting to counter-act the discharge and absorb it against the Faraday Cage, nullifying it's power and leaving silence to befall them both as he stared back at her; un-moving, gauging her potential as the force flowed around her form in response to her summons. It had become quite clear already that the woman's predisposition to acting upon self motives would be a counter-weight to the influence that Caehl Ren would be required to share. He felt his frustration rise, yet accompanied by a certain level of intrigue that stayed his hand and allowed him to avoid wanting to impose upon her so soon into her day of initiation the consequences for attacking one of their own outside of in-house training.

This assignment would be, if anything, most interesting. She was clearly not of the same mind-state that he had been during which his introduction to the Order of Ren had taken place. So long ago now, lost of all direction and craving for something to show him the way forward from his past trauma's, he had submitted himself completely to the teachings and vision of Sieger Ren, shared to him through the Knights of the Supreme Leader and taking on countless assignments requiring him to go above and beyond self regard to prove himself worthy. Elensa on the other hand retained a great deal of individuality that of which Brennan Cabrol was only beginning to grasp of his own since the transference of spirit into this new, clone body. Perhaps, most intrigued by the thought, he would learn to inhabit more personal traits and social skills whilst struggling to find a middle ground with this one that she might not hold herself back due to their obvious indifference in one another.

The Disciples compliance to the words that he had offered her caused his head to lift marginally in acknowledgement, now within the hall of the Academy, he would gesture for her to move further down to join the rest of her peers quietly within the back row while the Eldest of Ren spoke to them as [member="Castor Ren"] had once acknowledged Brennan and his peers as fellow Disciples and the future of the Order. His name was Master Kadar, and he was exceptionally known for his stern management over the new students to the First Order.

"Jedi and Sith... Two sides of the same spinning coin, both waging war to end up on top. What are their motivations? So varied are the beliefs of the Sith, it comes down to the individual or small collective, never fully united under one banner. History is littered with the remnants of long dead brotherhoods and conclaves, and the Jedi with their failed orders and revisions. The Ren suffer not to those weaknesses. United to one purpose, bound by order and discipline, our loyalty lies wholly with the indomitable will of the Supreme Leader."

Master Kadar had begun to offer them his age old lecture, the speech for which had been received in much the same way almost word for word back in his first days. Perhaps it was easier with his aging mind, to adhere to them all in the same regard that had seen so many before them ascend to the needs of the Order of Ren in the past. Watching and listening, Caehl Ren merely stood with his peers, Knights and Masters watching over the demonstration for possible students of their own.

"You will become living weapons, titans of both mind and body... Masters of the Dark Side. Some of you have weapons..." he said, his eyes passing between those with lightsabers. "...but here..." he gestures to the weapons racks lining the outskirts of the training floor for which the higher ranking Members watched from a slightly higher ground. "...are our weapons. Each tool has a purpose, and while the weapons of the Jedi and the Sith are useful, they are not always the best tool for the job. As a member of the Order, you are expected to be a weapons master, capable of using any weapon designed or improvised. Versatility is the key to survival. No, not only survival but to flourish."

Caehl Ren's gaze lingered upon that of Elensa Jari, curious to note how the former Sith would react to these words, whether she would be open to receiving them or show sign of denial in the fact of what could provoke a strong future here beside them.

"Some of you will prefer the lightsaber, others may prefer weapons of solid mass such as a sword or even a blaster weapon. All have their uses. You have been brought here, to the initiate academy but as your fall outside the normal criteria for initiates, you will be immediately granted the status of Disciple. You will reside at the Bastion of Ren, our fortress on Virgilia and granted one weapon of choice from our armory here to take with you. Though you will reside at the Bastion, you will still attend training here at the academy from time to time, so it would do you well to learn this place".

It was with these words that the Disciples were all dismissed, given the freedom to peruse the weapons within the room, choosing one for themselves if they saw fit and otherwise being left to find the Knights and Masters of Ren greeting them with conversation and looking to offer guidance for what might move forward from there.

 

[Elensa Jari]

The speaking hall of the Academy was larger than expected, and certainly busy: not only was it filled with the shuttle-loads of new arrivals, those who were now to pledge themselves to the First Order, but also the elder members of the organisation, Force Sensitives and mundanes alike. The vast majority were male, which Elensa supposed she ought to have expected: much of the Galaxy treated women much the way that men were treated on Hapes, as though they were unfit for positions of power, though some societies were perhaps a little more egalitarian. And yet one need only look at the conflict and strife across the Galaxy to know that men are largely the cause of it all.

Unsurprising, then, to find another man speaking, addressing all the new arrivals in that pretentious fashion that men so enjoyed, as a means of demonstrating themselves enlightened or wise beyond their capabilities. Two things you can count upon from a man given unjustifiable freedom to act, her mother had always said, the family seated in one of the drawing rooms of their home. Bold talk, or bolder violence. Those who cannot obtain the respect they feel they deserve with one will always resort to the other. The tone of disdain had been unmistakeable, but Elensa perceived, even now, the truth of it. Brush aside their words and anger will follow. Only through the patient guidance of women can such brutish individuals find proper purpose.

Now, once more, Elensa observed the truth of it: an elder grandstanding, offering grandiose promises interspersed with underlying threat. The message was clear enough: in coming to serve the First Order, you must put aside all priorities, or be removed from the equation. How else might such a disparate group be brought to heel under one man's vision? It was a very Sith-like reality, but one that the young woman found amusement in, nonetheless, though the faint smile that curved her lips remained concealed by the veil that covered her face.

The gathering was abruptly dismissed, the eyes of the disciples present encouraged to turn to the racks of weapons present on the walls, varying in type and destructive intent. Some were the sort of ranged weapons one might expect to be carried by a soldier, mercenary or professional bounty hunter: blasters, rifles, sporting pistols, even the odd heavier piece, though they looked largely for show. Others were the melee weapons preferred by those ranking among Force Sensitives: swords, staves, spears and other polearms, and even some more exotic weapons. Dispassionate pale-blue eyes roamed across the racks, examining the different types, though in truth she cared for none of them.

The Ren had clearly forgotten a simple reality: these were but tools, meant for the more efficient killing of men, to gouge, bludgeon and impale flesh, in order that one might separate beings from their mortal forms and release them from the burden of living. But the real weapon is the person using it. That was the Sith way, she knew, that simple lesson: everything you might use is but an extension of your will, tasked to purpose by your hand. Take a weapon from here? She was a weapon. What need would she have of those?

Besides, past training had long taught her not to rely upon tools created by others: these might be flawed, or designed with another in mind. Many of the blades she had held had been designed for men, with broad hilts meant to fit their fingers, or heavy blades that were meant to be wielded with their strength. Thus, she had learned to fashion her own: the slender metal throwing knives carefully slid into her belt, easy to reach, easier to use. The long polearm that rested now across her back, tilted such that it emerged at her left shoulder but pointed towards her right kneecap, of a length that it might come up past her elbow if drawn and left to stand beside her. But at a simple press of a button, a lightsaber blade would extend forth, a weapon far more lethal than any that rested on those stands. What need have I for your gifts?

Turning to her new teacher, the young woman unhooked her pike from her back and drew it around, her gloved right hand tightening around the slender metal stave, resting the butt of the weapon against the ground, such that the emitter tapped against her forearm. She had her tools evidently enough, so it was left to him to decide what it was that he wanted from her now. Elensa knew that she would not relinquish her pike, but if he wished her to take up something different, she would acquiesce for now, if only to move matters along. But that will be your choice alone, not mine.

| [member="Brennan Cabrol"] |​

 

[WolfMortum]

The Knight of Ren watched from the sidelines alongside his fellow Masters of the Order, his eyes upon his first Apprentice within the Order of Ren; there had been others suggested and encouraged in Caehl Ren's direction for potential learning yet none had met him with the appropriate attitudes nor convictions to meet his expectations. [member="Elensa Jari"] however, former associate of the Sith Empire whose experience among her fellow Initiates would far exceed their own. She would not remain here upon the world of Skye, the Academy was the first step for all Initiates to slowly be molded into the makings of a true Disciple of the Supreme Leader yet where she was concerned, this responsibility fell to Brennan Cabrol due to her age and wealth of power and influence over the Dark-side of the Force.

Hers was an impressive display of subtle fury, a quiet torrent of power for which others would probably misunderstand or not notice at all out within the public light of the Galaxy; why it was that she had not the ability to speak Caehl Ren had yet to inquire though it mattered little to him where communication could be spent in so many other avenues of shared understanding and will.

Watching the Mute, his mind moved to his former Master [member="Kriel Firin"], curious in the moment upon what it was that he himself felt when standing in such a place before having offered his mentorship to the boy, Brennan himself silent and closed off to those around him, speaking only when asked and for all intents and purposes appearing very much the same as Elensa was now. Talon Ren, Kriel's name under the Order; he had mentored both Brennan and [member="Ara Zambrano"] during different times, the years close together, some even overlapping from what he had gathered yet they had never run into each other before truly coming to establish a bond in respect and loyalty before that of the Alliance's invasion of Bespin and Hoth.

Self-Reflection offered a new perspective and one that he would have ignored with the limitations and cybernetic enhancements to the cerebellum of his former self; now with his letting himself give credit to the emotions and general sentient behaviors and mannerisms, his intrigue moved to what future Elensa would find within her service to Sieger Ren and that of the First Order. Indoctrination was an avenue she could choose to take or otherwise with Brennan's sanctioning of it, could be forced upon the former Sith; however it was his preference that she would find her place here with them on her own. She had thus come off as strong willed and independent, possibly even defensive though this was to be expected coming into such a place with a background such as hers. She certainly had strength of Character yet it would be her loyalty that Caehl Ren needed to be assured of here.

Master Kadar's silence and gesture to his subordinates suggested the end of his introduction and induction of their new personnel, some whom would make it in the Order to one day visit the Bastion of Ren upon the world of Virgillia and others who would either leave of their own choosing before they were in too deep and would otherwise risk indoctrination of termination for the information they would have learned. Moving now to step down into the floor, Caehl Ren made his approach to Elensa Jari, his left hand lifting to gesture to her weapon, the lightsaber pike for which he found to be an admiral choice and not one he had come across often.

"You will be taught many skills in melee combat and the martial arts during your time with us, yet this I find to be a respectable extension of yourself. In time, you will be required to use it and I look forward to seeing just how practiced you are with the Pike. For now however, let us move on. We need to fix you with a spare change of garments before we leave for Virgillia...-You will not be staying here with the others but living out your days under the Order within the Bastion of Ren, the apex of Sieger Ren's Elite".

 

[Elensa Jari]

The Ren gestured to Elensa's weapon, and for a moment she thought he intended to take it from her, which was frankly something she would never have allowed. If the First Order insisted on that, she'd walk away and never return, knowing that they valued themselves and their own methods above any loyalty they might hold to those that would stand among their own. The Sith had made it clear enough: though an individual might themselves be a weapon, such was no excuse for relinquishing the one crafted by your own hands. To find yourself absent armament was to display weakness, and that was the sort of thing that those that embraced the Dark Side might well pounce on, if they felt doing so would offer them advantage. And I know not enough of these people to know if they are of similar mind.

True, the Pike was an unusual weapon, and she had to acknowledge that few Force Users would deign to carry such: it was more unwieldy, required both hands when a lightsaber could be used with but one, and it was heavier, which might slow down the one using it. That observed, it had longer reach than a lightsaber, could protect against a wide range of different weapons, and could be used to incapacitate an opponent if she struck them with the solid side of the stave, rather than cutting with the blade. It had been something she had spent months constructing, slowing putting together all the components until they were aligned and configured perfectly, and such that it was truly hers, a piece of herself that she did not care to part from.

If he asked that of her, she might well use it to part his head from his body, if that's what it would take. Bad enough that she had to stand subordinate to a man. To hand her weapon over to him? Never.

Still, his words suggested that he did not disapprove of her choice, nor exist that she put it aside from some lesser weapon, to draw one from among those displayed here. Just as well, in truth - it was clear enough from the words of the Master at the far side of the hall that most of those here were but neophytes in terms of their levels of training: the sort that had yet to realise their strength, those that perhaps might not yet even understand how to use the Force, nor wield a lightsaber. And such are the sort who would not benefit from the presence of a student more experienced than they. She'd seen such on Korriban, and on Bastion: the simmering resentment, the lapse in confidence, the drive to excel not for their own sake, but to surpass that competition. In some, it was helpful: it gave them a standard to meet, something to try and beat. In others, it destroyed their chances of blooming into a stronger student, simply because they would observe an ever-widening chasm before them and never imagine they might cross it.

Perhaps that was why this one intended to take her from here - to reside away from the trainees in an environment where her own lessons and progression would not be a subversion of theirs. In that, he might prove sensible, she reflected. To do otherwise would jeopardise those who might otherwise succeed in the service of the First Order. That spoke well of matters here, that they would have such a pragmatic approach to dealing with those who would learn their ways. Although now he wants to change my outfit. What was it with men and wanting her in different clothing? They do so like to dress us, she reflected wearily. They don't play with dolls as children because they prefer to treat women that way. She'd have to work on that tendency with this one.

Shouldering her pike, the young woman made a short gesture with her hands, as if to say 'After you'. It was fairly clear that he didn't understand her sign language, which would make communication between them difficult, but she would make do. Besides which, he seems overly fond of the sound of his own voice, so he can talk enough for the both of us. The blonde would simply follow, and do as instructed, perhaps therefore to learn his ways.

| [member="Brennan Cabrol"] |​