Faction It Feels Like An Eternity [THP, NJO, THR, open to all Jedi and friends of Caltin Vanagor]

[Darth Spectris]

Darth Spectris offers the most outwardly respectful gesture so far to Connel Vanagor , actually turning to address him with a deep nod of the head, the miralukan's eyeless gaze nearly palpable, "Clearly you've inherited his legendary grace. Thank you, and you have my sympathy for your loss."

Turning back to the memorial, he just can't help himself, the smallest of smirks crosses his lips as the arc of the turn passed over Jand Talo , but for no longer than that. We're perfectly respectable Sith in this place, after all. We can keep the gloating to ourselves. Mostly.

 

[Tigris Aphra]

The tattooed Atrisian lingered at the fringes. She withdrew within, a ghost as she witnessed the memorial. She had not told Everest Vale she had returned, though certainly her fiance would know when she arrived. Still, Tigris remained quiet, in the shadows.

The catastrophe they had all witness, suffered, had driven Tigris to make some decisions. The loss of Coruscant had been truly devastating to the stoic Atrisian, but the confirmation that Master Vanagor was truly gone pounded the nail solidly into her resolve. It was time to marry her past with her present, in order to define her future. She would embrace becoming a Shadow.

Tigris could not say she had been a friend of Caltin Vanagor. But his impact upon the padawan in her most vulnerable moment was monumental, and it solidified her commitment to being a Jedi. A cultist Dark Side-possessed assassin from an era long dead, her conversion to the Light at the hands of Taam Moghul had placed her, ignorant of Jedi ways and the way of the Light, in the enclave of Jakku.

It was there she met Master Vanagor. The moment most significant was probably not even noted by the big man. His compassion was as fierce as his battle fury. The fresh padawan suffered nightmares inspired by her violent past. It was after such a night terror that Master Vanagor approached her.

He understood. He came from her time. Even though he was an enemy of her people those 900 years ago, he wasn't now. His encouragement had moved the hard-hearted, confused young assassin-turned-jedi. It was then Tigris knew she had made the right decision, and she strongly admired Caltin from that day on.

The first time he saw him fight, it was against Aziraphale on Jakku. He showed no fear, but stood strong like an solid anchor for her to cling to in the Force, just as he had been during that night time conversation in the enclave.

Even after infrequent visits to the Shadow Enclave, she stood in his massive shadow, watching, learning. In his absence, she would find herself at that enclave more and more.

Caltin was the first death Tigris had truly mourned. Master Vanagor's presence would be truly missed by the young woman. But his larger than life presence would forever live in Tigris' memory, and his spirit within the Force.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

A L D E R A A N
SHADOW SANCTUARY
​

Valery's touch was soothing, as it ever was. She'd seen him at his worst, when the grief was still all-too near. Today he sought to close the wound that he might start to heal, like others among the gathered. Grateful to have members of his extended family to rely on, Thurion rose and squeezed Valery's hand, then turned to Aris and kissed him atop his head. Connel, the poor lad, gave a heartfelt speech in honour of his father, venting some of that natural anger at losing a close loved one. Emotions needed to be let out rather than bottled up, else risk becoming something far sinister with time.

Pretending there is no emotion is how the Jedi were exterminated nine centuries ago.

And yet, there was one among the group of mourners whose pain he felt above all others. Some had attempted to comfort her, but to no avail. They were not a grandparent, however.

"Azzie," he uttered softly at the sight of her crumbled form in the sand. He approached slowly, looking to the young lady at her side with grateful eyes, telling her with expression alone he would care for her. He knelt in front of Azzie, a few feet away.

"It hurts too much," he said. "I know, little one. I know."

Gently did he reach out to lift her chin up that their eyes might meet, wiping the most recent tears from her cheek with his thumb. She was blaming herself, just as he did. There is no more destructive feeling than that of crushing failure, especially when it isn't your fault to begin with.

"It's not your fault," said Grandpa calmly, inching closer and putting his arms around her, slowly closing the embrace around her until she was pressed up against his chest. Any protest or violent outburst he would weather, for this was a child in need of comforting. This, above all, was his most sacred of duties.

"Let it go, sweetie. Let him go."

As painful as it was, clinging to the dead was no way to live. He had some experience with that sort of thing. His embrace was firm, yet forgiving; he would not relent, even should she scream and scratch and struggle.

"Caltin's teachings live on in you now, as they do in all of those whose hearts he touched. As long as there are memories — as long as there are mentions of his name — Caltin of House Vanagor can never die. Remember him. Honour him in all that you do."

Once she'd had a chance to calm down, Thurion plucked her off the ground and cradled her in his arms like a child as he turned to face the others.

"This Hidden Path was only revealed to us through the loss of our dear brother. Let our every deed be carried out in his hallowed name. And may we bring justice to the fallen of Coruscant, and every soul now living in the shadow of the Empire! May the Deep Core Worlds be liberated, and their oppressors cast down!"

The Lion emerged then, resting Azzie on his arm whilst the other reached for his sword and held it aloft, its blade radiant as the sun. The likeness of Caltin gleamed like gold in that light, and seemed to come alive.

"FOR VANAGOR," he cried out. "FOR VANAGOR! FOR VANAGOR!"

Interacting with:
Valery Noble Aris Noble Connel Vanagor Azurine Varek Kell Masaara ​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare, Engagement Ring
Companion: Isari
Tag: Tigris Aphra Valery Noble Aris Noble Connel Vanagor Azurine Varek Thurion Heavenshield Kell Masaara

The longer she remained, the heavier the air seemed to grow. It pressed against her chest, a slow, aching tide that made each breath feel unsteady. She hadn’t known Master Vanagor well, not like some of the others here, but she had known him enough for his absence to leave a space that felt too large.

A memory stirred unbidden: the glow of a campfire, flickering light dancing across his face as he spoke with that unhurried, grounding cadence. The laughter that followed some shared tale. The warmth of that moment seemed impossibly far away now.

Her fingers curled loosely into the fabric of her robe, until the familiar pulse of another presence brushed against her own. Tigris. Through the bond, Eve felt the depth of her sorrow, quiet but so raw. She leaned into her without thinking, the contact grounding her, her hand finding and squeezing Tigris’ arm in silent solidarity.

Her gaze drifted across the gathering: Valery’s steady presence, Aris standing close by, Connel feeling everything he had the right to feel, Master Thurion’s solemn stature. And then Azzie, crumpling to her knees in visible grief, caught by the arms of a Jedi Eve didn’t know. The sight cut through her like a blade.

At their feet, Isari gave a soft, mournful whine, the small sound carried away by the sea breeze, but not before it reached Eve’s ears and lodged itself deep in her chest.

She turned toward Tigris, drawn by an instinct beyond words, and wrapped her arms around her slowly. The embrace was for both of them, partly to steady Tigris against her grief, partly to anchor her own heart before the ache became too much to carry alone.

 

[Jand Talo]

Jand stared at the dark side user, unamused by the attempt at playing with semantics or provocation. The Nagai's experience with Sith and Dark Jedi was considerable; he had spent almost a decade locked in persistent confrontation with the enemies of the Jedi. He would not be lulled into complacency by claims of peaceful respect.

"Yes, I would strike you down," Jand said simply. Morality was pointless to a Nagai, the Sith would find no chink in the armor to toy with there. "Also, your claims of being unarmed are disingenuous and misleading. We both know this."

A lightsaber was not the only weapon a Force user had.

Jand looked to the Mandalorian, eyes equally steely.

"You come from those whose honor I can understand, so I did not feel the need to treat you as the dark side user here," Jand said, his voice low. "But I feel your confidence at seeing me try is misplaced. I have no quarrel with you... I request you do not make one."

With a sigh, Jand turned back to the Sith and was about to speak when another voice interrupted.

Connel Vanagor, the son, the bereft.

If the son spoke of allowing a Sith to remain, then Jand would abide by that decision, deferring to the decision of a blood relation; he would expect the same, were he among the Nagai and a clan disagreement had taken place.

"I understand. As you wish."

Jand stepped away from the Sith and Mandalorian, his manner unchanged nor his attitude. He simply remained as stoic and passive as before. Others had since arrived and spoken or responded in various ways, and Jand now considered the matter concluded at the behest of Connel Vanagor. That wasn't to say the Nagai was unprepared or oblivious to the threats around, he just... didn't pointedly engage now.

He noted the Sith's smirk.

I will see that Sith again.

Connel Vanagor | Darth Spectris | Feydrik Munin​

 

[Darth Spectris]

"Seeking to destroy that which you don't understand," Spectris let the comment toward Jand linger in the air a moment, before turning around yet again, "Fascinating. I'm sure he'd be very proud."

Evidently content with his time at the memorial, he begins walking towards his shuttle, stopping only for some parting words for Connel, "Despite our ideological differences, I believe there is a nugget of useful advice I can lend that my master once gave to me: no one enslaved to their emotions has ever broken their chains. To master them - or, for you, I suppose - to allow them to leave you is to achieve a kind of clarity. Anger, grief, so on," he rolled his wrist, "are natural tools. What we do with them will define us."

Spectris cast a final look across the assembled Jedi - though, pointedly ignoring Jand, as if he weren't worthy of more attention.

"Good luck."

With that, the Sith lord returns to his shuttle and departs without fanfare.


Jand Talo Connel Vanagor

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Closure
ALDERAAN
Shadow Sanctuary

Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]

He stood there looking at the statue as Darth Spectris said something to him, something about feelings. He wasn’t truly paying attention to the specifics, but it made sense as it reminded him of what his father used to say, how “Any Jedi who tells you that they do not experience emotions are kidding themselves”. Sure, this guy was a Sith, and probably anywhere else they would cross sabers, but today, he could show appreciation. Wise words, regardless of the source. Take care of yourself.


He would not go against his own ideals or insult the Sith, but the Miralukan showed respect coming here. Something many Jedi out there, Jedi whom Caltin had helped, taught, positively affected, didn’t bother too… oh well… speaking of… the Mandalorian. Feydrik Munin , what was there to say other than an honest Thank you for being here, I know who you are, and your reputation, and if you can respect him by being here, I can show you respect.

He offered a handshake. Could he have offered more? Probably, but what else would the man want? He wouldn’t kowtow to anyone, but respect was respect.

Then there was the young girl who helped Omega Squad on Cato Neimoidia, Kell Masaara . He approached her quietly and pulled out a datapad offering it. When she accessed the device, she would see coordinates, and “In two days…” and nothing more.

Turning around, Connel was eye to… metal… with the statue. He just stood there. Didn’t move. Couldn’t. The chants ended. The light, inside and out had dimmed. The warmth around the gathering had faded with the echo of Thurion’s voice… but something kept him there.

Not duty.

Not obligation.

Just—need.

Walking up to the statue, he quietly spoke to it, as if it were his father. You would’ve hated that. The speeches. The sword. The titles. He chuckled dryly. You always said ‘legacy’ was what other people wrote when you were gone. Not what you chased when you were here.

Then he looked up at the likeness. It was too perfect. Too still. Too gone. …But they need you now, Dad. Even the ones who didn’t show. Maybe especially them. You were the one who stood when no one else would. The one who didn’t let the darkness shape who he became. The one who taught me…

He faltered. Swallowed hard. …taught me that being strong doesn’t mean being alone. His voice cracked as he placed a hand against the statue’s chest, just above the sculpted armor—right where Caltin’s real heartbeat used to thunder like a drum when they sparred. I said I’d carry it. I meant it. But it hurts, Dad. You were right there. You were right here. And I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t enough.

He breathed heavy, shoulders trembling—then, slowly, he stepped forward. And for just a second—just one—he pressed his forehead to the statue, like a boy leaning into his father’s chest again. …They’ll remember you. I’ll make damn sure of it.

But I’m not you.

I’m what comes next. He stepped back. Stiffly. Quietly. The mask of the warrior returned, but his eyes—his eyes were still raw. He turned to leave… then stopped—and hugged the statue. Not because it was right. Not because it was Jedi. But because it was all that’s left.

Murmuring mid embrace, barely audible, he said I love you, Dad…I’m still your son.
… and when he let go, there was a flicker in the Force. Just a whisper of peace. Not a word. Not a sign. Just… warmth. Connel had just stepped away from the golden statue of Caltin Vanagor. The echoes of “FOR VANAGOR!” are fading into the air. The crowd was thinning, but the weight remained. Thurion Heavenshield stood nearby—still, proud, solemn—his radiant sword now Grandmaster (Yes, to him she still was) Valery Noble . Connel turned, face still raw with emotion, and slowly approached his adoptive uncle, and everyone else.

You think he’d blame you for not being there? He stepped beside her, voice calm, eyes focused on the middle distance—not pressing, just present. Azurine… he hoped you wouldn’t be. He told me once—when the war was creeping closer—that the real victory wouldn’t be in how many of us stood at the gates… but in how many didn’t have to. You were out there healing people. Giving hope. Being light in the cracks between the cracks. That was his dream for all of us.

Even if she wasn’t doing any of that, this is not what Connel thought, but what Caltin would have.
He met her eyes now, firm but kind. Caltin Vanagor never measured worth by presence in battle. He measured it by what we left behind. You are what he wanted left behind.

He stepped forward slightly, lowering his voice. He believed in you. Not because you were perfect. Because you were willing. Willing to grow. To question. To care.

A heartbeat went by. Don’t carry guilt, Azurine. Carry him. In everything you do… and when you feel the weight get too heavy—just remember: he already carried the worst of it… so you wouldn’t have to.

Then he looked over at Ar… wait… since when was Aris Noble a redhead? Doesn’t matter right now. You look like you’ve got the weight of the Temple on your back. He clapped a hand on Aris’s shoulder, sure, he had to reach up to do so, but he did—not dismissively, but with anchoring purpose.

That’s dood. That means you give a damn.
He smiled, just a little—then spoke softer, more measured. I watched my father train Jedi who had no names, no legacies, no bloodline to uphold. You know what he looked for?

Conviction. Not pride. Not force of arms. Just the will to stand. You’ve got that, Aris. I see it. And he saw it too. You get that from your father… from your mother…

You’re not here to replace anyone. Not Valery. Not your ancestors. Not the legends carved into these walls. You’re here to be you. And in the short time he saw you—Caltin saw exactly what kind of Knight you were going to be.


Another heartbeat and… Not one who leads from the front or hides in the shadows… but one who walks beside those who need you. And that—more than any saber skill or old blood—is the kind of Jedi who changes the galaxy.


He stepped back, offering a nod, voice low but resonant. Speaking as someone who is part of a legacy, if I could offer you advice. I made the mistake of chasing my father’s shadow. I am not “the next Caltin Vanagor” but “the first Connel Vanagor”. Don’t chase shadows. Just carry the torch forward. Your parents are inspiring, but you are not their clone… okay bad example… He offered a smile. You’re already something of legend.


Connel, finally after a long pause, voice reverent addressed Master Noble. He never said it out loud. Not the way most would. But I think you knew anyway. He looked at her—not as Knight to Grandmaster, but as someone who understood loss intimately. He respected you more than you’ll ever know. Not because you led the Order… but because you endured. He used to say the strongest Jedi weren’t the loudest… they were the ones still standing when the smoke cleared, even if they had to stand alone.


He exhaled softly, emotion tight in his chest He saw that in you. He saw himself in you, I think. But with more grace. More fire.

He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. You made him proud. Even if he never said it… you were his Grandmaster too. You gave him a purpose he had not felt in a long time when you made him the Warden of Tython… I can never thank you enough for that… the drive that returned to his eyes… his mannerisms. He would never admit it, not out of spite, or pride… but his ridiculous humility… it saved him in many ways… Connel hesitated, then added—gently but pointedly. You built him when he didn’t know he needed it, and he built us all to stand together, even when he couldn’t be there to hold the line…


He held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded once—firm and full of meaning.

We’ll hold it now. Together Hopefully all of us.0


Connel finally looked at Thurion, quietly, rough-throated… …Uncle.

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped in and clasped Thurion’s forearm with both hands—firm, warrior to warrior. He held it longer than expected. And then, without warning, pulled him into a quiet, fierce embrace. Thank you.

He pulled back only slightly—just enough to meet Thurion’s eyes. For being here. For honoring him. For knowing what he meant—not just to the Order, not just to the galaxy… but to me. His voice cracked just slightly. But he didn’t stop.

You didn’t have to bring the statue. You didn’t have to say what you said. But you did. You showed up. And in a room full of people who were supposed to, that meant more than I’ll ever be able to say. He glanced back at the statue for a breath—then turned his gaze back to Thurion.

He loved you. You know that, right? He may not have said it outright, but I saw it. He respected you. Trusted you. Even when he didn’t trust anyone else. Present company excepted. A smile, a shrug and a heartbeat later. You didn’t just honor his name today. You gave me something to hold on to.

Valery Noble • Thurion Heavenshield • Desbre Gensan • Milya Vondar • Kell Masaara ​

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Nathan remained silent at the cheering, the words of Connel Vanagor and Thurion Heavenshield . He was not prone to eloquence or flowery sentiments. Actions always spoke louder. Besides. Not like he could contribute. Nathan simply watched at a distance, cataloging their interactions, and felt a strange amusement at the war of words between Darth Spectris and Jand Talo

The strongest Jedi are not the loudest , but the ones left standing when the smoke clears. Hmm... Nathan thought to himself, waiting until Caltin had finished speaking with the statue before silently moving closer to the statue.

He reached into his pocket, hood still drawn up and produced a small, shiny blue crystal with an Asterism ...

He had been planning on giving it to Caltin but hadn't had a chance before the Sith had struck...

He laid it silently at a crevice at the base of the statue, his hood still up, the gem twinkling. He did not speak to Connel or Thurion, not even to offer condolences. It would have sounded hollow and trite coming from him. He simply turned and left, not saying anything to any of them.


Tigris Aphra

Everest Vale



OOC: Connel can use the crystal if he wants

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Words escaped him. The normally expressive Jedi Master was not one for such events. He expected that he would have been the first of his generation to go, what with the wars he fought. But he was seeming to be the last. Maybe his retirement was the opportune time. Maybe it wasn’t.

The Jedi Master watched the gathered pay their respects. Even the young… or old… or whatever, Witch in Brooke.

As Coren found a place to rest, and meditate, he was listening to the gathered. Specifically Connel’s words. Coren never wanted Jared to pick up the pace that he placed down. But for some? Family meant following in the footsteps. He could respect that.

And he’d make sure Jared helped Connel and the Jedi however he could.

 

[Jand Talo]

The Sith offered some final verbal retort. Jand didn't care nor did he respond; the dark side could be a rotten worm in the ear, and at some point you just had to cease listening.

Connel Vanagor approached the statue then, and started to speak, to which Jand focused on the son. He listened, quietly and unassuming amid the gathering, until Connel was done. When the other started to speak to some of those gathered, offering thoughts and observations, Jand continued to remain silent and simply waited for the optimal time to depart.

His task was done, he had paid respects to his teacher.

"I offer you advice, Connel Vanagor," Jand said when a moment allowed. "Do not be too quick to forge your own path, simply to avoid your father's shadow. Master Vanagor had many traits that should be emulated. And doing so would not detract from you or your own legacy."

Jand nodded to Connel then turned and looked to Valery Noble with a smile.

"It is good to see you, Master Valery. We should speak soon, 'catch up' as they say. I am glad you are well and offer my best to your family."

Then Jand gave a bow with his head and proceeded to return to his starfighter. He needed to be elsewhere, time was not on their side, and the forces of the dark would not rest to allow mourning at the loss of a good man. That was the way of things, ever onward, ever forward...

Exit.​

Darth Spectris | Connel Vanagor | Valery Noble​

 

[Feydrik Munin]

​

Feydrik gave that same sinister, evil chuckle.

"I killed more Jedi than him, I think."

He watched him depart, and the other Nagai Jedi. So he was left with the other legendary company. Thurion Heavenshield . Valery Noble . Connel Vanagor - though he was still forging his own legacy. Another older man, Coren Starchaser was also there. He didn't know him. But if he was here, something told me he was worthy.

"May we cross swords on another day, Jedi. Shame that a worthy foe lies dead."

Another cruel chuckle.

"Perhaps more of you will join him soon."

He turned to leave, grinning ear to ear beneath his helmet at the thought of more dead Jedi at his feet.

 

[Taam Moghul]

The tall, heavily built Cathar Knight stood among friends, acquaintances, peers and strangers who had gathered to honor a great man. Taam had remained typically quiet as he listened to those who spoke in remembrance of Caltin. They captured who he was in so many ways, so many different aspects, Taam could offer little more. In his spirit, and the Force, is where he gave the fallen master his deepest respect.

Taam knew Caltin Vanagor as a valiant, and often cheeky, warrior. The Cathar knight recalled one occasion when he had fought alongside Caltin and Thurion Heavenshield as they purged a Tython forest of Dark Side spawn after the Dark Empire was defeated. Master Vanagor was a bulwark, a relentless fighter, fearless defender. Off the battlefield, Caltin was an inspiration for all in the order, without airs, a master of practical wisdom and a devoted Jedi.

The cost of his loss would be felt through the next generation of Jedi.

Taam's eye caught a glimpse of someone he had not seen for several years. Tigris Aphra . She had been a lost and wayward assassin, covered in tattoos and eaten up with the Dark Side. He had been forced to fight her into submission before he was able to show her the Light. Taam had taken her to the Jakku Enclave, to learn under the tutelage of masters such as Caltin.

Taam felt the hollow ache of the loss they all shared. But Caltin's legacy would remain. Caltin Vanagor was still there for them, in the Force, as he always would be.