Faction New Bonds and Restoration | TJO and Allies

[Briana Sal-Soren]

"Thank you again for reaching out to us, and for making your way here to visit our Temple," A tired smile pulled at the corners of Briana's lips, her eyes betraying the exhaustion pressing behind them as her gaze shifted toward Malora Varis, lingering a moment before turning forward and continuing to lead their guest deeper into the Temple's interior where many worked tirelessly to clear rubble and restore some semblance of order. "I wish it was under better circumstances, but we are grateful for your presence, none the less."

Briana's hand brushed against one of the scorched walls as they passed beneath one of the archways, her expression flickering with regret. "This was meant to be a place beyond such violence. Every step I took to keep this place hidden and secured was all meant to try and keep the young and untrained safe. After everything I'd seen during my time with the New Jedi Order, and I suppose in my hubris, I believed I could prevent what'd happened on Coruscant so many times, from happening here. Keep another generation from ever being forced to flee in terror." She exhaled slowly.

Shiraya’s Sanctuary, for all intents and purposes, had been named for exactly what she'd meant it to be. A sanctuary, a place where all Jedi could peacefully train and grow, without fear or worry of being caught in the crossfires.

A need-to-know basis had been established for its location from the get go, hidden trails through Naboo’s woodlands in the gallo mountains enforcing its secrecy. The reinforced walls, designed to blend seamlessly with the natural beauty and terrain around them, had helped keep them from otherwise prying eyes. Jedi security droids were lined along various checkpoints, paired with other layered security measures that'd been directly drawn on lessons hard-won from what she'd seen and experienced with Coruscant’s repeated tragedies.

For a time, it seemed enough, until a few days ago, that is.

The raid had been swift, but merciless. No lives had been lost, to Briana's knowledge — thank Shiraya — due in part to the foresight and dedication they'd put into evacuation drills and the personal protective barriers fashioned into place when designing the Sanctuary. But, their survival did not make the devastation any less sharp, nor ease the guilt that sat heavy on her chest.

Training halls bore the marks of forced entry. Once-pristine walls were marred with the scorch marks of blasterfire, and precious relics and artifacts, stolen. The courtyard that once rang with laughter was cratered, its delicate fountains shattered and the ancient stonework of the Brotherhood scorched and torn beyond recognition. In the heart of their Temple, the archives which laid very much in their infancy, were torn apart.

It'd been her greatest point of pride and hope for the future. Now, shelves were overturned, ancient scrolls she'd had to scour distant worlds to recover were missing and unaccounted for, potentially scattered to the wind. Several datacrons were cracked, damaged in a way that Briana was unsure if they'd ever be able to retrieve the data that'd been stored on them — knowledge that mattered more now, than ever before, with the Empire in the Core and working overtime to burn every scrap of Jedi history they could find. These archives were not just shelves of memory, they'd become their own sort of symbol of resistance.

She paused under one of the archways, watching a group of Padawans moving together in pairs, some sweeping debris, others carrying boxes of what was potentially salvageable. "But as you can see, we are a resilient bunch."

OOC Note:
This thread is open to all members and allies of The Jedi Order. It is meant to welcome Malora Varis and introduce her to the Order, but also a thread for rebuilding our temple after the raid with BSS and the junction.

EQUIPMENT: Echo Stone, Astor's Dagger

​

 

[Aiden Porte]

Tags: Briana Sal-Soren Malora Varis
@Open​

The sanctuary still smelled of charred stone and singed cedar beams, though sunlight streaming through the half-mended roof tried its best to banish the weight of it. Aiden's sleeves were rolled past his elbows, dust streaked along his arms, and yet the ache in his muscles was one he welcomed. Every plank set back in place, every stone carefully realigned, felt like a breath drawn back into Shiraya's Sanctuary. Healing wasn't just a matter of the Force, it was calloused palms and sweat, it was people gathering to stitch together what had been broken.

He had brought something of Naboo to aid the effort too. In the hearth at the sanctuary's edge, iron pans simmered with a slow grill of riverfish, garden herbs, and seasoned potatoes. And most importantly the bread that was being sliced and laid aside by a youngling who volunteered to help. Food could do what words often failed to, make weary shoulders ease, coax laughter to return between bites, remind those gathered that life was still sweet.

Naboo's herbs would hold their fragrance well enough without him for a few moments as he withdrew the pans from the heavy fire. With one last sweep of his sleeve across his hands, he turned from the firelight and walked toward the sanctuary's broad entry.

Stone dust still clung to his boots from the repairs, but he made no move to brush it away. It seemed fitting, in a way, that he approach as a worker among many, not polished, not pristine. The long hall was alive with quiet labor as Jedi stringing fresh beams into place. The sight filled him with something steadying, almost like a heartbeat shared across the walls.

At the threshold, the presence he had felt earlier came into view. Briana stood tall, her brown hair catching what sunlight filtered through the canopy overhead, her expression serene but commanding as always. At her side, a Jedi accompanied her, while he didn't know her personally, they were informed that she would be coming.

Aiden bowed deeply first to the Grandmaster, then to Malora, his voice even but warm when he spoke.

"Briana. It's good to see you." His gaze shifted to Malora. "And you must be Malora Varis. Welcome to Shiraya's Sanctuary. It is an honor to meet you. My name is Aiden Porte." He extended his hand towards the woman. He was sure there were many others that wanted to meet her, so he made it short and quick, yet polite.

He straightened, a hint of a smile touching his features. "I've a meal simmering for all who are hungry. When your walk through the sanctuary is finished, don't hesitate to stop by."

The Jedi Knight smiled and, giving Briana a small confident wink before he went back about this tasks for the day.

 

[Kael Varnok]

The Sanctuary's great doors shifted open, carrying with them the faint scent of ash and the cool breath of Naboo's highland wind. A lone figure entered—Kael—his hood drawn low, the faint gleam of curved hilts at his belt betraying him as a warrior. He walked with quiet purpose, boots heavy against the stone, yet not a sound of him felt intrusive.

He passed through the bustle of Padawans and Knights without a word, until he reached the shattered remains of Shiraya's statue. There he stopped, and without hesitation, sank to one knee before the broken effigy.

His hand brushed a fragment of the face, dust flaking beneath his touch. His head bowed, and in the hush of his breath came a murmur in his own tongue:

"Verai domas… shettura vel kai."

The words were soft, carrying no translation, but something in the cadence of them—the weight of grief and resolve—needed no explanation.

When he rose, Kael set the fragment gently back among the rubble as though returning it to its place in the whole. He did not make a show of it, but the air seemed to still, the act drawing eyes to him.


At last, his gaze lifted to meet those nearby. Humble, steady, yet with a quiet gravity that commanded respect without demanding it. He gave no speech, only a silent nod—acknowledgment of their shared loss, and of the resilience that had carried them this far.

Aiden Porte Malora Varis Briana Sal-Soren

 

[Malora Varis]

NEW BONDS AND RESTORATION​

Location – Shiraya's Sanctuary, Naboo
Objectives – Connect with the members of Shiraya’s Order
Tags – Briana Sal-Soren Aiden Porte Kael Varnok
Paraphernalia – Lightsaber, Bodysuit, Outfit

​

Ashla's chorus bore a tainted edge to it, a lamentation, a mourning even if death did not linger within its haven. The song brought forth a mild sense of unease as she entered through the charred entrance, her layered robe dragging over the floor. While the Grandmaster's voice sought to maintain hope, it was facile to detect the underlying currents shaping her sentences. The Temple, despite the notorious raid, stood tall and proud, a blend of nature and the Nabooan culture that had forged its past. Magnificent, the word lingered in her mind though she dared not say it aloud amid Briana's explanation about its past, its purpose. "We cannot dictate the Force's will, we can merely listen and adapt to its song." The Pantoran attempted to advise, most of the words not even her own, but the Jedi Master that had once been burdened with mentoring her amid her ceaseless stubbornness and thirst for action. Such days were long gone, and now only inaction and fear shaped the shackles that forced her hand. A mask she dared not let falter now that she stood among those younger than her, more in need of optimism than the aura her conflict may carry.

"And so you did. Had it not been for your efforts, perhaps this temple would be a memorial, not a wellspring of life." From the busy padawans attempting to haul away some rubble, to others attempting to use the Force in unison to disperse of the larger collision. It was a brilliant example of aiding others amid a time of struggle. A way of life her enclave refused to teach, instead they forced this struggle upon the afflicted themselves along with hours of deep meditation, letting the feelings fester until they plagued one's mind even in sleep. "They had a gentle hand to guide them." A compliment? An assessment? Malora sometimes could not tell the difference. Though she had little time to elaborate as the figure of another entered her sight, a taller man with dust coating his appearance lightly, and when he extended her hand, the noble hesitated for a moment, hoping the rubble would not catch on her gown. "Malora Varis," She introduced with a pleasant yet formal smile, still on guard. "I shall certainly remember that-" Without further command she bit down on her own tongue to prevent herself from conjuring up sassy remark about the dust infesting the food.

At last her golden eyes fell upon the figure of someone praying near an effigy, the depiction unclear to her foreign self, but evidently all art held meaning within this place. A way to express one another and to cherish the histories that lay as the foundation for the future. Malora turned back to Briana. "Is there anything I can do to aid your people? Credits, or... clearing the debris..."

​

 

[Vodet]

The Jedi were up against the wall a bit lately. Kattada had been attacked, the Sanctuary on Naboo had been hit, and he knew that other Jedi were being chased around the galaxy. It was why the Starchasers were doing what they did, and why Vodet was taking point on protecting the Kattada Enclave. Lucky for him, Vodet had a clan of Witches just outside the Enclave, and they all worked together. Plus the new addition of a Tide of Light fighter compliment and all the scrappy pilots with their hot rodded ships.

It allowed Vodet to come back to Naboo. He preferred to be the one to be the one making connections to other Enclaves and the Orders. Naboo was a nice world, and there was a small Mon Calamari cruiser in orbit, escorted with a few of the Sparrows to protect the Gentes freighters as they brought requested material. Having a Jedi Master in connections with traders and pilots was always smart.

He was with the gathered, leaning on his walking staff. "That is true. The Force is much like the sea. With ebbs and flows. We're all part of it and can do what we need to." He was older. And just completed repairs and upgrades on Kattada; and watching the support teams play volleyball, yet he was here to help.

Briana Sal-Soren Malora Varis

 

[Hwo]

Hwo wiped a bit of sweat from his brow as he paused at a fork along the slightly trodden dirt path. Years had passed since his last trek through these woods. But the routes he ran through this forest as a young Jedi remained ingrained in his mind, and no amount of time away from his home world would ever erode those memories. He was getting close. Quickly adjusting the strap on his pack, he pushed onward, not far now from the end of his long hike.

The Temple soon came into view. Its beauty and simplicity were ever present despite the obvious damage it had sustained. A few younger Jedi were gathered outside, conversing lightly, but Hwo could feel the weight they carried from the recent events. An uneasiness spread as they turned to watch him approach. A stranger to them, no doubt. Hwo smiled and raised his hand, casually waiving to signal he bore no threat or ill intention as he made his way toward the entrance.

Despite being raised in the Temple Theed, he admittedly did not know many of the Jedi that now filled the rosters of this Order of Naboo. He recognized Sal-Soren and Vodet by reputation only. Is that Aiden? Like his father, Hwo knew the younger Porte, although it had been quite a while since he had seen the Jedi Knight in person.

The Jedi Master slipped his pack from one shoulder and swung it around his side, allowing him to access its contents. He withdrew a tome bound in worn Shaak leather. A souvenir from his travels, an ancient collection of wisdom from Jedi philosophers long since passed. Shiraya’s Sanctuary seemed a fitting place for it to live; the first step to rebuilding the partially destroyed library in these halls.

 

[Rik Perris]

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY
NABOO

The attack might be less of a surprise to him than it would be to other members of the Order, and maybe that was a pessimistic view: with the eternal struggle, he saw such defiliings as only a matter of time. But that never touched his feelings about such sacred places, though - what was harmed could be restored or replaced, what was broken could be mended, new lines made part of the whole.

Just as he’d lent a hand in the restoration of another temple more than a year before, Rik Perris had already been stuck into the work, here for a measure of the morning, shifting and lifting debris, and was now taking a breather, going for a walkabout. Which soon enough took him around to where Grandmaster and a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces were, giving a light frown at the sight of the broken statue along the way. Sacred things. Defiled.

He futilely patted away some dust from his trousers, then hooked a couple fingers into the neck of his sleeveless top — he’d shed the rest of his upper layers into a folded pile elsewhere as he got too warm — and gave it a shake as if to air himself while watching Aiden retreat back to preparing food, then turned his attention, first to the Yinchorri, to whom he gave a nod, then to the two women, a firm yet sheepish smile rising on his face at the sight of them with his display. The hand dropped to hook on his hip, like its mate on the other side of him.

“Morning,” he greeted with a tip of his head, “Knight Rik Perris. Looks like we’re headed for a warm one, today,” an unexpected last hurrah of summer, this late into the month. He looked from Briana to the Pantoran, who he’d heard asking what she could do to help, on his way over.

“Been focusing on the larger pieces, so far. Plan is to work my way down in size to sweeping up the dust and smaller rubble later.” His brows lifted. “Uh, if you want to help, that is.”

Aiden Porte • Briana Sal-Soren • Hwo • Kael Varnok • Malora Varis • Vodet​

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

"We cannot dictate the Force's will, we can merely listen and adapt to its song. And so you did. Had it not been for your efforts, perhaps this temple would be a memorial, not a wellspring of life. They had a gentle hand to guide them."

Briana thought on the end of those words. She didn't feel particularly gentle, not with the smell of ash and solvent sticking to her person. But, she supposed, there was some merit of truth to her words.

"Briana. It's good to see you." His gaze shifted to Malora. "And you must be Malora Varis. Welcome to Shiraya's Sanctuary. It is an honor to meet you. My name is Aiden Porte. I've a meal simmering for all who are hungry. When your walk through the sanctuary is finished, don't hesitate to stop by."

Briana smiled as Aiden came by, brows furrowing with an unspoken question, as if to ask how he was, without outright pressing. She knew that he and Lorn Reingard had fought hard and bravely during the raid, with one of the two ending up in the infirmary. That detail alone made her especially relieved to see him on his feet and about, wearing a recognizably easy smile. "Thank you Aiden."

"Is there anything I can do to aid your people? Credits, or... clearing the debris..."

"Is all of the above an option?” She inquired, giving a restrained chuckle. The Ee'everwest coffers ran deep, but every well had its bottom, and many of the credits afforded to her through her families own good fortunes, were tied up in the investments and continued development of the Underground and the ongoing efforts there.

Giving it a moment of thoughtful contemplation, Briana spoke up again. "Hands willing to put in the work will always be welcome here, credits too. But honestly?" Her gaze drifted over the ruined halls and the busy courtyard beyond, settling on one of the Knights kneeling in front of the ruined statue that'd been taken directly from her late mother's personal prayer hall, now scattered in several pieces.

Her thumbs hooked into the pockets of her trousers and she rocked back on her heals, pulling a deep breath of the fresh mountain air into her lungs. "What we need most right now is presence. Commitment. The New Jedi Order is mostly in shambles in the Core, especially with the Galactic Empire moving in; and somehow… our half built Order, stitched together by Younglings, Padawans, and Knights, is what's left standing."

Light rouge lips pressed into a thin line. Even she wasn't a fully trained Master, yet. Had never been officially promoted, at any rate. They called her Grandmaster because, well.. what else could they call her? Grand Knight? The thought alone almost pulled a rueful smile from her, but it never quite broke through. She lifted a hand, palm open and preempting any quick response. "I know you only just arrived and I'm not expecting any answer or commit from you right now. Just... give it some thought. Meditate on it, whatever you need to do, then let me know what you think. If your answer is no, there's no hard feelings."

"That is true. The Force is much like the sea. With ebbs and flows. We're all part of it and can do what we need to." He was older. And just completed repairs and upgrades on Kattada; and watching the support teams play volleyball, yet he was here to help.

"Ah, Master Vodet." Briana hadn't had the chance to meet the elderly Master from Kattada yet, but she'd heard of his arrival earlier in the day and he certainly matched the description, from what she'd been informed of him. "I wasn't expecting to see you here today. I know Kattada's been through it. Are the recovery efforts going well?"

Before he could answer, another voice chimed in. One she was much more familiar with.

“Morning, Knight Rik Perris. Looks like we’re headed for a warm one, today,” an unexpected last hurrah of summer, this late into the month. He looked from Briana to the Pantoran, who he’d heard asking what she could do to help, on his way over. “Been focusing on the larger pieces, so far. Plan is to work my way down in size to sweeping up the dust and smaller rubble later.” His brows lifted. “Uh, if you want to help, that is.”

Her shoulders lifted in a half-shrug towards Malora. "Up to you, really. Either way, Rik, why don't you also take Kael Varnok with you?" She nodded towards the man over by the effigy, "There are some larger fragments by the plinth going down and I know that you could use extra the hands. If we can keep the faces together, the restorers will have an easier time of it later." Her gaze returned to Malora, warmer now. "Your call though."

TAG: Malora Varis, Vodet , Aiden Porte , Rik Perris , Kael Varnok , Hwo | EQUIPMENT: Echo Stone, Astor's Dagger

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[Vodet]

Jedi always needed to stay connected. Even if there may have been different approaches to being a Jedi. Kattada opened their own doors to various explorers and their notes, as well as the Witches that shared their shores. The Naboo temple had Shiraya, a deity of some importance to the world. Force based deities were something that was an unknown to Vodet. He felt that was more the Witches and a few other organizations. But the Kattada crowd did tend to work the sun and moon, and ocean into their own Jedi mythos. Something that was on a few holocrons on his world, the Starchaser world.

Ukatis was another one, very versed in its plants.

He looked up to Master Briana, there were a good number of Sal-Sorens, and affected what worked as a nod for the Yinchorri. “I was not certain I was going to be able to come, however, the proper people arrived and it has been a while since I’ve checked in. Our repairs are going well. Unfortunately, having to up our defenses. It adds a… taste that I don’t approve of, but there is the Empire to contend with.”

 

[Kael Varnok]

Kael's head turned slightly at the sound of his name carried on Briana's voice. For a heartbeat, he remained kneeling before the shattered effigy, his gloved hand still resting on the stone fragment he had set back in place. Then, with unhurried grace, he rose to his feet.

Dust clung faintly to his knees, but he made no move to brush it away as he stepped from the statue's shadow. His hood slipped back as he crossed the short distance, revealing a face marked by calm, weathered lines and the faintest glimmer of amber in his eyes.

"I heard my name," Kael said quietly, his voice even, neither questioning nor confrontational, but carrying a resonance that drew attention despite its softness. His gaze swept briefly across Rik before settling on Briana. "If there is work to be done, my hands are willing. Point me where you would have me."

The words were simple, but they carried weight, the kind of weight that came from someone who had stood on more than one battlefield, who understood that labor was as sacred as combat. For a moment, his eyes drifted back to the broken statue. He dipped his head slightly, almost to himself, and murmured again in his native tongue—

"Kai'thera domas."


Then he returned his attention to Rik, offering the Knight a respectful nod. "Show me what you need moved."

Rik Perris Briana Sal-Soren Malora Varis

 

[Malora Varis]

NEW BONDS AND RESTORATION​

Location – Shiraya's Sanctuary, Naboo
Objectives – Connect with the members of Shiraya’s Order
Tags – Briana Sal-Soren Rik Perris Kael Varnok
Paraphernalia – Lightsaber, Bodysuit, Outfit

​

The song of the Force loudened with every presence, every signature. And though their ideologies did not wholly align, the light within these souls lay as a steady foundation. For the briefest heartbeat, it pulled her into its depths, yet the multitude of voices swiftly dragged her back ashore. Her polite offer had been met with gratitude,though Malora could not ignore the shadow of a headache that followed. Her kin were wealthy but never overly generous, and thus persuading nobles, diplomats, and merchants to invest their credits into a foreign order with likely little profit remained a hazardous task. Still, an uneasy smile curved her indigo lips at the Nabooan's reply. "My credits may not flow so freely, but one can make the attempt to find investors. As for hands and commitment, those can be arranged."

Yet the question lingered: how simple was it to pledge herself to another Order, when all she had ever known was the timid Enclave deep in the Mid Rim? Where the recruitment of younglings was a rarity and the lessons oftentimes proved harsher than what their Code may permit... Malora still bore the scars of such teachings, but perhaps here, within these walls, both she and this weakened Order might be remade... healed. "Half-built or no, your Order stands steadier than many groups or societies I have encountered." Malora reassured the younger woman, the words felt strange on her tongue yet came naturally nonetheless. Perhaps this place altered her psyche, akin to the dark side artefact she had stumbled upon weeks before on Odessen... Though this was gentler, lacking the thunderous and agonising aura. "Give it time. People long to restore this place to its full glory. Were that commitment absent, it would have already crumbled."

Her smile warmed in an attempt to soothe whatever doubt affected Briana. Before her golden eyes drew towards the approaching Jedi Knight, inclining her head ever so slightly in greeting. "A pleasure. I am Malora Varis, Jedi Master of an Enclave near Pantora." Her gaze drifted from him to the other figure Briana had called 'Vodet', offering another courteous nod. Upon the repeated mention of getting her hands dirty in clearing the rubble, her eyes widened a bit and the corners of her lips twitched. "I did offer it... didn't I?" A sharp exhale abandoned her lips as she glanced toward Rik, then down at her pristine robes with resignation. At last, she nodded, her lips pursing in silent reluctance. "Very well. It has been far too long since I've faced such a challenge."

​

 

[Kael Varnok]

Kael paused as the words around him settled — Malora's reluctant agreement, Briana's quiet command. For a breath, he stood motionless, a shadow beside the broken effigy. Then, with a slow movement, he reached up and unclasped the worn cloak at his shoulders.

The fabric fell away in a muted sweep, revealing the man beneath: tall, broad-shouldered, his forearms bound in weathered cloth, chest and arms inked in the interwoven lines of tribal markings and Jedi script alike. Scars cut across the tattoos like strikes of lightning, each a story left unspoken. The hilts of his twin sabers gleamed faintly against the contrast of a battered utility belt, red etchings catching the fractured light.

When he lifted his gaze, piercing blue eyes met theirs, steady as stone. His voice carried low but clear, resonant in the open hall.

"Kael Varnok, Knight of the Order," he said, the formal words carrying none of the stiffness of ceremony, but instead a simple honesty. He dipped his head slightly toward Briana, then to Malora, then Rik. "You have my service. Point, and I'll see it done."

For a moment, his hand hovered at his side, brushing the pommel of one saber as though anchoring himself. Then his tone softened, almost conversational, though the weight of it lingered in the air.

"Stone, timber, or enemy… it makes no difference. I'll lift what needs lifting."


The faintest edge of dark humor tugged at his words before it vanished again, his expression settling back into quiet readiness. He shifted his stance, shoulders squared but humble in posture, awaiting orders from those who'd spoken his name.

Rik Perris Briana Sal-Soren Malora Varis

 

[Rik Perris]

SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY
NABOO

"A pleasure. I am Malora Varis, Jedi Master of an Enclave near Pantora."

"Hm." He'd make note of that; Pantora was a ways to the south, far outside of the Republic's borders, but any Enclave that forged a relationship with the Jedi Order was one the Vanguard could very well pay a visit to. Tying himself more to this Order was for a few reasons becoming a worthwhile idea — his padawan wasn't the only cause of it.

His padawan. He wasn't certain if Ceri Fraissi was willing to continue her training, now, after all that had happened; it was a discussion that needed to be had, and he'd need to work on her resilience if so, but Briana spoke to him directly, bringing him away from that wandering thought.

"Up to you, really. Either way, Rik, why don't you also take Kael Varnok with you?" She nodded towards the man over by the effigy, "There are some larger fragments by the plinth going down and I know that you could use extra the hands. If we can keep the faces together, the restorers will have an easier time of it later."

Rik crossed his arms and let his gaze drift back to the effigy and the man there, then gave a slow nod when Briana continued speaking, agreeing with her assessment — more hands made for light work — and brought his attention back to Briana and the others after a moment. Physical and Force-given strength, in addition to stamina made it easy for him to accomplish a lot on his own, but that wasn't his way. He'd link up with others, and he often had his padawan along for the ride. Usually.

"Unfortunately, having to up our defenses. It adds a… taste that I don’t approve of, but there is the Empire to contend with.”

"'History is fond of repeating itself'," so his youngest brother, a Jedi Padawan himself, would say, "it's good to be prepared," Rik added. He'd always advocate for preparedness, but more so for vigilance, like what he believed the Jedi in the Core had lacked, until recent. One of the reasons why he'd begun to break with them a second time, only so many months after returning. When he'd sought change alongside the proponents of the Lightsworn, and the Foundation over the brunt of the past year, what happened in the Core now wasn't what he sought.

It'd all been too late, or all of this was inevitable.

"I heard my name," Kael said quietly, his voice even, neither questioning nor confrontational, but carrying a resonance that drew attention despite its softness. His gaze swept briefly across Rik before settling on Briana. "If there is work to be done, my hands are willing. Point me where you would have me ."

Rik looked at the other knight; his words painted him with the willingness of one used to work, and beholden to the call of duty, before the other man looked away, back to the effigy, uttering words beyond Rik's own comprehension. Then the knight looked to him, pointedly requesting to be shown what needed moving. The Corellian was just about to respond when--

"I did offer it... didn't I?" A sharp exhale abandoned her lips as she glanced toward Rik, then down at her pristine robes with resignation. At last, she nodded, her lips pursing in silent reluctance. "Very well. It has been far too long since I've faced such a challenge."

--then the tattooed knight introduced himself in quick order and reiterated his willingness to lend aid, this time in a way that Rik been used to getting from soldiers, not other Jedi. A hand went to Rik's mouth, propped up at the elbow, as if he were briefly in thought... but in honest truth, he was stifling a light chuckle, and his brows peaked along with it. He glanced at the two women and the Yinchorri, then dropped his arm back into the fold.

"Yeah... Alright, alright," he let out, "let's deal with that, first," he said, indicating the effigy with a lift of his head, going off of Briana's suggestion, "then see to other areas." He looked from Kael to Malora, and her pristine robes, a thought passing through his head that brought a smile back to his face, recalling her air of reluctance, perhaps regret a few moments prior. "Nothing a little strong, steady TK can't handle, Master Varis," Rik assured, "but if you're worried about your robes," he flicked a glance at Kael, who'd unclasped his cloak and like himself, wasn't wearing sleeves, then back to the Pantoran, and gave a vague shrug. "Long time 'til sunset," he canted his head in the direction of the effigy, then started to turn in that direction, "come on, let's get at it."

Aiden Porte • Briana Sal-Soren • Hwo • Kael Varnok • Malora Varis • Vodet​

 

[Kael Varnok]

Kael gave a single nod, silent and unhurried. He shrugged off his cloak, folding it with deliberate care before setting it aside. Then, without ceremony, he reached for the edge of his plain black tunic and peeled it over his head, discarding it beside the cloak.

What remained was the truth of him. His torso was a canvas of old battles — scars deep and shallow, long-healed burns, jagged cuts that crossed one another like the map of a hard-lived life. The ink of Droskari vows and tribal markings wove through the ruin, some stark, others faded into the pale seams of flesh. They clashed with the faint lines of Jedi script etched later, the two histories written across the same body in uneasy balance.

He moved toward the effigy without another word. Muscles bunched and rolled as he stooped, wrapping thick hands around a broken slab of stone. Veins strained along his forearms as he hauled it clear, his breath steady, measured. There was no glow of the Force about him — only the simple, relentless strength of one who had lifted steel and stone long before he'd ever held a saber.

Each fragment he moved, he set down gently, reverently, as if even in its ruin the effigy deserved respect. Between breaths, a low murmur escaped him in his native tongue, rough-edged and foreign, left unexplained.

At last he paused, bare chest streaked with sweat, tattoos shifting like inked shadows over his skin. His gaze lifted briefly to Rik, then to Malora, before returning to the shattered monument.


"It will stand again," Kael said, quiet but resolute, the certainty of a warrior who had rebuilt himself a thousand times.

Rik Perris Malora Varis Briana Sal-Soren Vodet Hwo Aiden Porte

 

[Vodet]

What would make him feel better was landing another ship soon that could start making some food. A little known fact for Vodet, was while he did have a strange and varied past in the Jedi Order, that he didn’t always mention to younger beings, no-shells or others like him, he had a love of a variety of food. Did he eat it all? No, not typically. He had a specific diet, but he did love experimenting and serving others. Call it a favor to the others.

Actually, he was expecting the Hawksbill and its pilot droid to land. He’d open up the kitchen and start serving when he could, and when the time was right. Affecting a Yinchorri smile, he nodded to Rik. “I hate that I agree with that sentiment. But its true.” Walking with his staff, he followed the new voice.

“Pantora, been out there a time or two. Not much for my sub-race, but a lovely world.”

As for the standing of the Order? And this temple? It was again in the ebb and flow.

“Rebuilt? Or become resilient? I find the Order tends to follow more like a mangrove. Constantly under the assault, but always returning to true.” And serving as the first wall for the beings behind it.

Eyes to the sky, the cyan-and-navy painted Hawksbill was landing.

Rik Perris Kael Varnok Aiden Porte Briana Sal-Soren Hwo

 

[Aiden Porte]

Rik Perris Kael Varnok Briana Sal-Soren Hwo Vodet Malora Varis ​

As he turned away, Aiden could feel the slow rhythm of the sanctuary settle around him again hammers striking, laughter soft but growing, the murmur of those rebuilding side by side. The scent of cedar and riverfish clung to the air, mingling with dust and the faint hum of the Force that threaded through every beam they lifted. This place had seen fire and ruin, but the light filtering through its wounds felt....hopeful. Alive.

He glanced back once as Briana and Malora began to move deeper into the hall, their presence like steady anchors amid the work. The Grandmaster's calm was as much a balm as the Force itself, and Malora carried herself with the measured focus of someone aware her every step mattered. It stirred something in him a reminder that every hand here, every voice, every breath of purpose mattered too.

Returning to the hearth, Aiden knelt to stir the simmering pans, watching the broth ripple. Steam curled upward, catching sunlight in thin, gold lines.

He smiled to himself as he worked. Not every wound could be healed with the Force. Some required warmth, food, company reminders that even in the aftermath, life insisted on rising. And as long as there were people willing to tend the fires, he would be among them.

 

[Hwo]

Hesitating to interrupt, Hwo slowly approached the group of ranked Jedi as some appeared to be moving on to other duties and obligations. “Master Sal-Soren,” he greeted, politely nodding his head in a small bow. Although the two had not formally met, at least to his recollection, there was no mistaking the young Grandmaster. Hwo then nodded in turn to the others, acknowledging his fellow light side brethren that had sacrificed so much through the years, both here and abroad.

”I am sorry to have just arrived. I was . . . Indisposed with other matters. I only learned of Shiraya’s attack after the fact.” By indisposed, he meant he was on the other side of the galaxy chasing a Sith assassin. The deranged killer had slaughtered families of Force-sensitive children to recruit their younglings into a dark side cult. Evil business. “I am Hwo. While this is my first time visiting Shiraya, I grew up on this planet. I was trained and knighted not too far away at the Temple Theed.” Hwo briefly thought back to his youth, to a much different time. “As you can see from the lines on my face, that was quite long ago.”

Hwo extended his hand and offered the leather bound text to Briana. “Only a humble gift, but I hope that you will accept. This is a collection of essays written by Jedi long since passed. I found this tucked away in a Sanctuary near the Massassi Outpost, but the Shaak leather suggests it belongs here on Naboo.”

Briana Sal-Soren Aiden Porte Rik Perris Malora Varis Vodet Kael Varnok