Faction Preemptive Actions [Wardens, NIO, GA]

[Kaleleon]

A R K A N I A
Adascopolis - Capitol City


It had been agreed upon. A central neutral location in which Select members of the Galactic Alliance, as well as the New Imperial Order would be welcomed to come and speak. It had been a long time since I have been in such position of "Leadership." Mostly due to my Spacefaring ventures in aiding the Silver Jedi Order and their Fight against the Brynadul. Yet, there was a storm brewing. One that I was not too fond of. So many Galactic powers were forming in the rise of coming forward to take what was sacred to many.

The Sith Empire was currently at War with the Imperial Order. For the past week they have been performing trench warfare with the Sith-Imperials. Secondly, the Galactic Alliance has been slowly heading in that direction. With their slow merging of two Galactic powers to become one massive group together. They were a force that was growing by the day. Both powerhouses of the Galactic Map were... looked to for aid in these times. While the proposition I had could be a point of contention between the two, I had to seek them out. It was with this, we sought to bring about more within.

Standing within the chamber, twas an old Jedi Temple that had been used by the Old Galactic Republic years ago. One in which I am sure the Galactic Alliance wished to see unearthed, as well as useful for any who wished to be here. Leading to the roots that the Wardens, and myself were rallying all we could muster. It was not much. Our order of previous Paladins barely reached out to be hundred strong.

While I was here dressed in armor from head to toe, currently standing in front of a round table that held the crested helm for me, I leaned forward as I waited. While the other Wardens were back home, or performing duties, I had 2 other Wardens with me. Simple Apprentices. One Garbed in robes, while the other dressed much like myself, armored up in Jedi Armor. Of course we had Lightsabers, but otherwise we were unarmed. My red hair being ran through as I was nervous. Never have I been one for politics. Always seeking to be in battle, or taking the fight to the enemy as simply as I could.

Today? I would have to step up.

I was a Leader to the Wardens. Their "Saint of Order." The soul individual who sought out war efforts and battles. Not only so, I was the creator of the Wardens back with the Galactic Alliance was just the Corellian Confederation. It felt like yesterday I was training under Romi Jade, but now? So much has changed for me. I didn't know what else to expect.

"Aaron, please let me know if they get here."
"Kale, they already are?"
"What?"
"They are walking inside as we speak."
"Okay."

I shook from nervousness for a moment. Closing my eyes, i just relaxed myself. Breathing in and out so that I may control the flow of emotions, the force, and my mental capacities.

"Please welcome them with open arms. And for gods sake, take off your helmet."
"Oh. Right."

Looking up to the door, I waited for it to open.

 

[Rurik Fel]

Arkania​

Adascopolis ​

C U D I​

​

The Galaxy was nearing its shatter point. The old order of being had seen its foundations tremble at the dawn of a more tenacious collective will. As the New Imperial Order began its existential struggle against the collective darkness of the Sith Empire. As the faux virtue of other Galactic powers sent them into complacency and stagnation, the New Imperial Order was the first to strike at the darkness. Peculiar as a coalition it was, the Galactic Alliance joined the Imperials head first into the fray.

So entered Rurik. Such was the plight of pure stratocracy. With a vast majority of the New Imperial high command indisposed between the gathering storm that swallowed Mygeeto and Muunilinst, Wymar had been relieved from his duties at the front on Mygeeto temporarily and thus, was one of the Order's senior commanders present on the homefront when the Warden Kalaeon sought to bridge relations with the Order. Be it by fate or pragmatism, the Knight Commander was a fitting voice for the New Imperial Order to these Jedi.

Unlike a vast majority of his comrades, he was not ripped from the ranks of the Sith Empire at the onset to this war. Even if it was born under the banner of the crimson saber, his exile in young adulthood saw him quick to scrape away his aristocratic roots in favor of the Jedi Code. What initially lingered as a harbored grudge toward his family's name soon evolved and mutated into the growing weight of obligation. He would see darkness extinguished by the collective will of the Galaxy.

However, lying in wait was not the answer either. He found his comrades among the Wardens of Light, the Alliance and the Silver Jedi to be ultimately avoiding the swelling threat of darkness. Waiting for them to emerge from the periphery instead of striking at its heart, uprooting it from where it congealed. Such is the reason why he abandoned Ashla in favor of the Imperial Codex.

"There is No Force Without Order,
No Order Without Discipline,
No Discipline Without Will,
Through Order I Control the Force"

Discipline. Will. Order. In spite of the Jedi's yearning for selflessness and inhuman will, these were the primal authorities which would vanquish the darkness. Even still - Wymar harbored a kindred bond to his Jedi brethren, one not so easily torn down. Just as he hoped the Galactic powers would listen to their rhetoric when he served alongside them, Rurik would not let the plight of the Wardens fall on deaf hears. In pursuit of justice and in the interest of the New Imperial, he would hear their call.

The door opened to the meeting chamber to reveal the Knight Commander clad in the silver and black of his own knightly order. Not of any posturing sake but mirroring to his former brothers-in-arms that the New Imperial Order was as much a martial power as the Jedi were. The patience for the decorum and regale of the Aristocracy had been eroded to near nothingness. Though this was no slight to the Galactic Alliance who'd situated themselves with a political ruling class. Such was the way of the far wealthier core. The sons of the Empire were far closer to the fray.

"Ave, brother." Rurik greeted, a familiarity in his tone. Even if the two had passing interactions, Wymar was once a Warden Of Light all his own.

"I apologize on behalf of the Sovereign Imperator concerning his absence. He had all intents to meet directly but as you might understand, the call to war is far more dire. We may not be the final authority of our Order, but I am a vessel of its interests as any other." Rurik stated candidly.

Kaleleon | Lucien Dooku | Ryv | Emmen Tagge

 

[Ryv]

Adascopolis // Arkania
NJO // Maynard Treicolt // Loske Treicolt // Allyson Locke // Auteme // Bernard of Arca
Other // Kaleleon // Rurik Fel // Lucien Dooku
Whip // The Renegade
C U D I

---

---

It took either an extremely powerful or intensely stupid individual to cross the Jedi and put Ilum, of all places, to the torch so quickly. The Zweihander Union, one of the latest powers to rise within the galaxy, decided a significant first step with the Galactic Alliance was to raid the ancient Jedi planet. News of their attack spread quickly enough, given the nature of an insider feeding information from behind enemy lines to the Sword of the Jedi. Had the large-scale terrorist cell just mined for crystals, maybe the Jedi Knight could've looked past the slight. Perhaps, if the criminals brought Ilum to the table for negotiations, the New Jedi Order would've sought some agreement that saw both parties flourish from the affair. But no. The Zweihander Union did everything wrong. They marched upon ancient lands, putting the natives to the blade, before beginning to mine the precious kyber crystals for their own nefarious needs. It took a lot to piss Ryv off and push him towards such extreme measures. He knew war and hated what it brought to the innocents of the galaxy, but the Zweihander Union's actions would not go unpunished. The Sword of the Jedi would see Ilum free of their oppression, while their leaders became intimately familiar with a particular cyan-bladed saber within his arsenal.

No one could be surprised the force rallied overnight, joining Ryv in his audience with one Saint of Order. Leading the charge through hyperspace, both Maynard Treicolt and Loske Matson sat pilot to co-pilot, navigating the brilliant blues and whites for their companions. Ryv couldn't be sure where Bernard, Allyson, or Auteme wandered off to within the blockade runner, as his attention was drawn to the pit burning within his stomach. Avoiding the cooling touch offered by the Blade of Ruusan, the Jedi Knight allowed his kindled rage to guide him in his movements amid the main cargo hold. With a training saber in one hand, he worked his way through a series of Shii-Cho forms, slowly pushing through the motions at an agonizing speed. He had become reliant on the presence of the relic gifted to him by his master, Cedric Grayson. Ryv knew his emotions were a liability he often ignored, which made them an exploitable weakness by those capable of seeing past his weapon's defenses. He hoped to change that, using his anger as the closest thing to a learning experience he'd encounter throughout the trip to Arkania.

When the Renegade finally broke back into real space, Ryv stepped up to the single training dummy he'd brought with him. He struck out, the training saber expertly finding purchase across a series of designated zones meant to outline focus points for striking. The Jedi Knight stepped to the side, reversing his grip on the weapon before pivoting on his front foot. He spun around the unmoving entity, Ryv's back gliding across the dummy's own, to see the Jedi Knight engaging it from the opposite side with a strike meant to decapitate the inanimate foe. Feeling only a thud in response, Ryv pulled back and slammed the weapon hard against the dummy's head once more, sending it tumbling to the ground with a series of thudding echoes. The Jedi's attention followed it as it fell, eventually settling on the blank expression locked on the ceiling above them. He knelt down, patting the lifeless object's forehead.

"Sorry about that one, buddy," Ryv spoke with a sullen tone, the transpiring events hanging heavily upon him. "Rough couple of days, I guess," he reached beneath the dummy's shoulders and lifted it back to its initial position. "That should do," the Jedi's gloved hand batted off some built-up dust from the object's shoulder before moving towards the door. He hung up the saber on an impromptu weapon rack before lifting his jacket to sling it around his form. What frustrations ate at him before shrunk considerably, the physical strain of his training, plus the mind-numbing repetition of the most generic forms helped the Kiffar cope to some extent. He pushed into the ship's largest chamber, a four-way corridor that split the interior into a series of rooms and halls. He waited within the center, arms crossed over his chest, a neutral expression decorating his features. As the ship descended, Ryv considered a rough estimate of lives lost, trying his best to ignore the pang of guilt eating at his thoughts.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: LOCATION //: Adascopolis, Arkania
//: TAGS //: Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Auteme Bernard of Arca Kaleleon Rurik Fel Lucien Dooku
//: BOND //: Ryv

Everything happened so quickly, even as a seasoned veteran of war didn't expect this quick rally. She had received the summoning and promptly jumped into action, especially since it came from Ryv. The man's emotional state was easily felt through their bond. As much as she wanted to provide him a calming touch, she understood that intense desire to feel it. Onboard, she had mostly kept to herself, tunning the armor she wore into combat. As she worked, her thoughts wandered to the man who's emotions were overriding her own. Her tools put down. She walked, using the bond they deeply shared to guide her to the training room.

The Corellian wondered why he wasn't finding comfort in his weapon, maybe her assumption of his feelings was on the money. As she entered, it was apparent he couldn't sense her, or he refused to. Her eyes watched as his movement was sharp and precise. The man was a seasoned duelist, and Allyson didn't know if she felt right about admiring his form. She shook off the feeling and waited for the right moment to say something to him. Despite everything, she wanted to be a sense of comfort for him still. Even if he pushed her away. The notice of the landing echoed over the comms, and Allyson watched as he finished.

Slowly, the brunette sauntered in her Corellian Stripes, clinging to her movement. Standing near him, she offered him a kind smile. It took Everything not to wrap him up into a hug and hold him. "Hey, you, we've landed..." Perfect, she thought quietly, knowing that it was a pretty lame thing to say.

Pausing, Allyson did her best to offer her understanding and calm through their connection. "We're going to fix everything, I promise." Seeing him like this, feeling the emotions broke her heart. "You're not doing this alone, I'm here with you, we all are..." They shared a dream, he won her over with his dream. They would protect the galaxy and even while doing so, she wanted to protect him to be his rock in this terrible moment. Reaching out, Allyson rested her hand on his arm and gave him a small squeeze. "You're not doing this alone, mia kavalir"

 

[Lucien Dooku]

MOJO SO DOPE

​

As much as he wanted to enjoy his free time elsewhere, the Sovereign Imperator felt it fitting for the Order's lone Jedi to take part in the delegation to Arkania, where elements of the Alliance and the Order were being dispatched to meet with the Wardens of the Light regarding the situation on Ilum. His knowledge on the Zweihander hindrance out in the far reaches of the western galaxy was limited at best, and aside from the brief interactions he'd had with a handful of the Alliance's members, the Rogue Jedi did not share the same kindred spirit that Rurik Fel held with his former comrades. Jedi were Jedi, much like he considered the Sith and their dark-sider analogues to mostly be two sides of the same coin. While he called himself a Jedi when it was convenient, it had long been apparent that the only thing he shared with the majority of the galaxy's force cults was his aesthetic choice in lightsaber blades.

That made him a paradox indeed to those who encountered the individualistic Jedi, who all but rejected their code in favor of an ethos of his own. Yet when paired up against the Inquisitors and Force Knights which bolstered the majority of the Order's force-sensitive warriors, he was still the closest thing they had to offer to a conventionally-aligned Jedi, even if he didn't agree with it himself. Regardless of his personal feelings on the matter, the meeting on Arkania would prove a valuable opportunity for the Prince-in-Exile to expand his knowledge in the field of diplomacy. Much like his station during the preceding. meet-up on Krieg, his place within the Imperial delegation provided him an opportunity to further distinguish himself from those who simply sought to remain strictly warriors beneath the Order.

His ambition was far greater than the tempered desire for battle that simmered beneath his veins on the daily. With war against the Empire nearing the horizon, Luc would begrudgingly accept the 'opportunity' to further develop his non-combat skills, which inevitably would come to aid him in the near future, if his role within the Order continued its natural course of progression. He was a Prince on a mission to liberate his homeland, after all, and his tumultuous exile had caused him to severely lack in the department of statecraft as a result. As such, he didn't mind sitting in the back burner while the more veteran Imperial Knight took the lead in the upcoming proceedings.

Walking to his side while slightly trailing at his rear, the inquisitive rogue Jedi stood out when lined up to the delegation of Knights that were accompanying Rurik as well. Dressed in the stylistic Jedi Garb that served as the basis for his recently acquired Jedi Armor, the matching charcoal-toned hilt of his weapon jounced against his waist as he strolled in unison with the group. He remained silent, even as the doors to the conference area swung open, their delegation presented to the current occupants while Rurik engaged in conversation with one of the few commanding presences that stood out amongst the crowd.

Both of his hands made their way towards the back of his head, fingers intertwining to hold his head in place as he lazily stood there and observed the interaction between the two. The decorum that came with politics had never been his style, and as far as he knew there weren't any rules preventing him from being comfortable. For now, at least, he did his own thing. Once the meeting was in full swing, then perhaps he'd tighten himself up.

Spoiler

Kaleleon Ryv Allyson Locke Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Emmen Tagge Bernard of Arca Auteme

 

[Auteme]

A R K A N I A
Tag: Kaleleon Ryv Allyson Locke Rurik Fel ​

---

Auteme wished she was visiting Arkania for better reasons.

Seriously, it was one of the centers of knowledge in the galaxy. The Arkanians were known as some of the best geneticists out there, and that was a subject Auteme was deeply interested in. Moreover they had a rich history; one of exploration, discovery, and a dozen other things. They had one of the most beautiful languages and scripts of anything she'd ever read. And of course, some of the greatest Jedi came from the ranks of the Arkanians.

Instead they were here at the behest of a Warden of Light, who'd called together people from the Galactic Alliance and New Imperial Order to discuss the ongoing crisis on Ilum. Auteme had been brought in partly on behalf of the Chancellor and the Senate. Her work as a Senate Scribe had kept her far away from the conflict that the other Jedi had become so familiar with, so she didn't know much about the political situation with the New Imperial Order, nor the Wardens of Light.

Worse, she felt like she was losing touch with those around her.

She'd only just met Allyson, but honestly the woman intimidated her. She was so young, yet so strong in the Force and so experienced that Auteme couldn't help but feel sheltered and not nearly as useful. Maynard she didn't know well, and he'd spent most of the trip here in the cockpit or fixing something, and Auteme didn't know all that much about technology, so she couldn't help. She'd talked to Loske for a bit but it'd never been more apparent that she was on mission here. And Ryv, well, from her waning connection to him she could tell how stressed he was. The Sith, the Bryn'adûl, and now this... she just wished they could talk. She just wanted to help.

The padawan poked her head out of her temporary quarters when the ship rocked back into realspace. She spotted Ryv by the middle of the ship and started towards him, before seeing Allyson going over to him and speaking. Auteme didn't want to interrupt anything. She stepped back into her quarters and sat down in a chair by the wall, taking a deep breath. She could be like the others. She could put her head down and focus on doing something good for something greater than herself.

She couldn't keep lying to herself.

 

[Bernard of Arca]

\\ Home
\\ Ryv Auteme Allyson Locke Lucien Dooku Kaleleon Rurik Fel

Too young to fall

Home was ... if he was entirely honest he wasn't sure quite what home was. Arkania was the place of his birth. Her snow dunes had been the seas to which he gazed in days of youth. The stars in her night sky were uniquely hers, he still recalled the patterns; they never left his thoughts. Those days spent peering through the snowfall behind frozen windows for the chance to spot the fabled dragons soaring amidst the winds. The memory alone brought back the scent of cinnamon and the warm embrace of blankets. He had to sigh a long breath to break the spell of souvenir.

Arkania's beauty was unmatched among the stars. Yet, as he gazed out into the doppler lines of hyperspace, he could not find the love that he once bore, nor the thought that named it home. It had been nigh a decade since he last set foot on the frozen world. He'd grown since. No longer was the boy who gazed at the Jedi, dreaming to one day join their ranks. He returned now sharing their burden, as a warrior who walked their path with every step his legs could manage. When he imagined himself amongst those dunes of snow he felt no more the joy their sight once brought.

He'd grown, indeed.

The pressure of blood was mounting in his head, sufficient indication to break the exercise in balance. With disciplined movements, he bent his legs forward slowly until his centre of gravity shifted. With new tension in his core, he forced himself to stay upright, upside down, as he lowered his legs further. When they finally touched the ground he let his hand find some reprieve, feeling the effects of the weight they had borne. The world shifted around him as he came to stand upright again, but the sight outside the window remained the same. He let his fingers curl into a fist a couple of times to abate the numbness.

With the Force, he summoned the dark brown jacket to him. The golden glow of the arkanian dragon on its back and along the ends of its sleeves was dim in the darkened room. He pulled it on and moved to exit the cargo hold. As he walked, he felt the faintest lurch within the ship, the sign that they had finally entered realspace. A wave of peace came over him, though quickly it turned to uncertainty. The familiar comfort arkania held within the Force, even after all these years, threatened to overwhelm him with more nostalgia, but he knew better than to give in to indulgence.

His return was motivated by reasons other than a desire to see his home again. A new threat had arisen, one that sought to destroy the natural order of another world, one not unlike arkania. He would walk the snow dunes as a Jedi this time, as he would do on Ilum, inevitably. The matter of when was what they had come to discuss.

His steps carried him through the ship and towards the bridge, though his path was interrupted by the sight of two other passengers. They were already locked in conversation as he approached.

"Ryv, Allyson," he nodded to each in turn as he came to a stop.

His voice was steady and betrayed no emotion, as it always was, though much of the formality he once used as a shield had gone.

 

[Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne]

ARKANIA
Adascopolis, Adascopolis central business district, Adascopolis antiques

Arkania, it was chilly which for the obviously foreign woman was fondly reminiscent of home. Though inside the Adascopolis city habitation dome that wasn't a concern and now Cerys the Dark Elf was distinctly uncomfortable in the fine fur-lined coat fitted snugly over her torso. There was the thinnest film of sweat on her fair skin which gave it a distinct shine beneath the liquid crystal light of the quaint yet successful antique dealership.

Cerys stalked through the isle studying the armored mannequins and their warplate she correctly assumed that most of the armor suits she passed were intended to be worn by the diminutive Humans and their innumerable environmentally adapted and distinctly evolved sub-species. Cerys admired that about Humans, their adaptability and determination if they couldn't bend to an environment they made it bend to them. That's when Cerys' steady pace halted firmly, coming across a complete suit of humanoid white form-fitting plastoid armor reinforced with some unidentified gunmetal grey composite plates over the torso, forearms and shins.

"Ah yes, worn by the ancient Galactic Republic's advanced reconnaissance commandos I believe." A smooth honey-like voice called towards the giant woman, Cerys turned her head in its' direction found a man a whole head shorter than herself advancing confidently towards the alien woman. He wore a nametag which identified him as "Gorman". "There are several functional reproductions on the market" He continued stopping beside Cerys but keeping his eyes locked on the plastoid statue. "We however have the distinction of having in inventory an original suit as you have found here, worn by a Commando." Gorman's index finger traced along the jagged animal styled verdant-green markings on the white form-fitting plastoid plates. "We believe these markings were carefully painted on by the Commando and represent unit affiliation." Gorman stopped himself from going further and looked to the tall "Sephi" for a reply.

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

Arkania​

Adascopolis ​

C U D I​

​

A calm before the storm. Since integrating himself into the web of command within the Galactic Alliance, Maynard had identified less and less with the Jedi proper and more with his duty all the same. After all, the Jedi were largely scattered within pockets of isolated orders and groups, in spite of recent attempts to unite them all outside of the perpetual enigma that was the Silver Jedi. At least an enigma to Maynard. They were Jedi, there was no doubt about that but they seemed to lack the teeth.

They'd been wronged too many times, stood idle too long as innocents suffered, their sacred enclaves scattered through the galaxy razed and abandoned. They were a group in a...peculiar state. While many without the foresight would see the most forthright of the Jedi never align themselves with the New Imperial Order, in a desperate time, they were the ones to take the fight to the Sith Empire directly. Where evil could be contested, it was difficult for Jedi to justify not being there to will it.

However among those aboard The Renegade , there was a bond in some way which wove each of them together. Though truly, it was all a culmination from the Sword Of The Jedi. Maynard had barely interacted with the judgemental Arkanian nor had he spoken directly to the Jedi Shadow. The ties were as loose as being Jedi to some of them and far more intimate with others. But they were a motley crew, especially in foundation to a New Jedi Order made up of uniformly unorthodox adherents to their Creed. Regardless, the Kiffar was the lynch pin which had united them here.

Maynard had always made sure that the sentiment was clear to Ryv, for everything he'd done for him, for them. Grandmaster? Maybe not, but the Sword of The Jedi was more than capable of being the vessel of unification.

"Thank you. I'd have been out for the count awhile ago without you, man. I love you, Ryv. You're my brother, always."

The Renegade
Focus // Loske Treicolt | Ryv | Allyson Locke | Bernard of Arca | Auteme

On landing, Maynard swallowed a breath of relief when the hydraulic hiss of the landing gear setting down unto the flat surface below sounded out. Seamless, just as he anticipated.

"Aaaaand nothing broke. And here you were doubting the prodigal machinist ability of THE Maynard Treicolt." Treicolt said in triumph before he breathing out a sigh of relief. Loske being the only living soul sharing the cockpit with him. She might've known better than anyone else that as "impressive" as The Renegade was, far too much of Maynard's idle time was spent in maintaining the old freighter. Too modified, too much his for him to ever forsake the vessel.

"Alright, blondie. Lets get this all sorted. I love em but...well, I don't love this many people in our space." Maynard said. They were all his friends but The Renegade and its captain both were only so accommodating. offering a toothsome grin back to her as he got up from his pilot's chair, offering one idle glance toward the frigid daggers which aligned the horizon past Adascopolis.

Isolated in their own world in the ship's canopy, Maynard at least maintained a brighter composure for once. With those two alone, it was difficult to dwell on anything that didn't involve well, her. Stepping out from in front of the pilot's chair he turned to make his exit, waiting for her to rise from her own position at Co-Pilot. Moving to wrap an arm around her waist and kiss- the door opened. Never mind.

Peering out to see the retinue of solemn Jedi nearing their full assembly, with only the two piloting the craft left out, Maynard gritted his teeth for a moment in reluctant abandonment of the romantic gesture, aiming to grasp her hand into his as a compromise.

"Ah- ." He let out, reading the room. Spirits had been higher, not much higher, but higher.

"Alright- we all set?" Maynard said aloud to the gathered Jedi, hoping to drag the attention to the very purpose of their excursion.

"We can brood or- whatever when we're all finished up here." Maynard offered not with judgement or malice but rather in empathy. Not as if he had much ground to stand on. He understood the collective plight, living it just as they were in one way or another.

Kaleleon | Lucien Dooku | Emmen Tagge | Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne | @Iamrurikwymar

 

[Paz Koon]

/ Arkania, Adascopolis /
/ Sapphire /

​

Arkania, Home. Many memories resurfaced when Lambert beheld the sight of the familiar snowy landscapes. Very few of them were pleasant. Lambert wasn't born with the 'privilege' of being a real Arkanian, but rather as one of the many flavors of lowly offshoot. A gem-mining mongrel, a knife eared mutt, a filthy hybrid, that's all he ever was to them. Had it not been for the force, for the Jedi, he'd still be here toiling for his purebred superiors. The Order was the first real home he'd ever had, which made leaving all the more difficult.

In the face of the looming evil far to the galactic north, the cancer growing just beneath the Tingel Arm, the Silver Jedi chose to do: Nothing. As if that very indolence and willingness to forsake all of those people didn't go against everything they claimed to stand for. The rise of the New Imperial Order, the defiant splinter from the oppressive Sith-Imperial whole, it was a hard calling to ignore. They sought to do what no one else would, to take the fight to the Sith.

Leaving behind the comfort of his own chambers and his relative day to day freedom was hard. Leaving his brothers and sisters in the order behind was even harder. Lambert had come to terms with his new life under the Imperial Codex. After all, he was certain he'd rather die bringing the fight to the Sith than die as an old and complacent Jedi Master who'd never truly accomplished anything.

Lambert had quickly grown tired of the philosophies the governed the force. The Jedi prattlings of peace, serenity, and harmony grew old just as quickly as the Knight prattlings of Order, and Discipline. Philosophy and mysticism didn't make right, every person Jedi, Knight, or otherwise is only worth the sum of their actions. This wasn't about the Light's serenity, the Neutral's order, or the Dark's passion. This was about people. People who couldn't defend themselves against the oppression of the Sith, people who were suffering. This was about justice.

Maybe he would have made for a terrible Jedi anyway. That is if his faithlessness in the face of codes and mantras had any real bearing on ability. The Jedi of the Galatic Alliance had at least shown a willingness to act, which already made them far more respectable than the Silver Jedi in Lambert's eyes. This was saying a great deal when considering that the Silver Jedi were practically the only family Lambert ever really had.

Lambert had been relieved, or rather, torn from the front of Mygeeto for a time. He didn't want to leave, especially not when he was finally getting to take the fight to the Sith. Alas, the New Imperial Order's concerns didn't lie solely on that frigid battlefield. The Force Corps obviously had interest in Ilum, as would be expected of a force order. It was to be expected that securing and safeguarding such a world would be a priority, even in these times of war.

Despite his reluctance and displeasure with being taken away from the fight, he accepted this duty with some semblance of optimism. Being chosen to accompany Knight Commander Wymar and take part in the delegation that would determine the actions taken about Ilum was an honor. There were few Imperial Knights whom Lambert respected as much as Wymar, and even fewer Jedi. Respect gained not out of seniority, or authority, but out of Wymar's drive to quell the growing darkness.

Lambert maintained a confident posture as the doors slid open. The Knight opted to remain silent as he walked in alongside the Knight Commander, waiting for him to speak. He regarded those inside with a small nod as the Knight Commander greeted them aloud. Lambert's hands retreated behind his back as he and the Commander came to a stop. Consciously aware of his body language, Lambert maintained a neutral expression, eyes scanning broadly over the room and the individuals within.

"Well met, Saint Kaleleon," Lambert greeted the armored red-headed individual politely.

"Getting off Mygeeto and clear of Sith-Imperial space was quite a chore and the rest of the road here was a bit... bumpy, to say the least. I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long."

Rurik Fel Ryv Lucien Dooku Emmen Tagge Allyson Locke Maynard Treicolt Bernard of Arca Loske Treicolt Auteme Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne Kaleleon

 

[Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne]

ARKANIA
Adascopolis, Adascopolis central business district, Adascopolis antiques

Regarding the armor's details and silhouette in a muted pause listening to the Arkanian divulge the piece's secrets. "Fascinating." Cerys' eyes in their almond-shaped orbs focused closer on the helmet's details how the visor swept down the faceplate's middle Cerys deigned to reach forward and touch the plastoid material though the sound of Gorman clearing his throat in an obvious gesture to rebuke the movement brought him back into focus. "This Galactic Republic what was the reputation of their army?" Her question was born of a genuine curiosity, in their isolation the Ellylon Republic received scant knowledge of history that passed while they locked themselves away.

Gorman locked eyes with the significantly taller woman and being beside the potential customer rather made him feel like a gnat in comparison. "Some military historians claim the Galactic Republic's Grand Army was the finest Army to ever exist in the galaxy." After a brief pause he decided to push slightly harder on the sale. "And the Advanced Reconaissance Commandos." Gorman's four fingers gestured towards the twenty-odd something plastoid plates crowned by its' distinct proud helmet. "Were their finest warriors, the armor would be a fine addition to the collection of any museum or private collector." The giant smiled and she chuckled in the casual wave of a hand, Cerys' head nodded affirmatively in agreement with Gorman. "Might I inquire what intention you have for the armor?" His white eyes look to her eagerly.

"I wish to respect the warrior's legacy and apply his pattern to a reproduction suitable for my stature. I will place this one on a mannequin in my family home in a place of honor as a homage to the warrior who once wore it and as a reminder of the cost of war." Gorman blinked, he hadn't anticipated such a deeply philosophical answer. Cerys' gaze was unflinching though, within that woman was a righteous zealot and it was rather unsettling it reminded him unpleasantly of the kind of passion and determination you'd associate with a Mandalorian hellbent on a crusade although the stranger was decidedly more friendly and sophisticated than aforementioned crusader. "Congratulations Arkanian, you have made yourself a sale. Let us make the transaction of credits and be done with it for I fear if I remain long the hole in my purse shall grow proportionally larger." Cerys' lips stretched into a faint smile at her own feeble although friendly jest.

 

[Kaleleon]

// FOCUS - Lambert Vasari Lucien Dooku Rurik Fel //
// TAGS - Ryv Allyson Locke Maynard Treicolt Bernard of Arca Loske Treicolt Auteme Emmen Tagge Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne //

Any nerve chatter I had seemed to almost fade away in mere moments as I saw the men who walked in. One that looked to be a Jedi garbed in robes, however the other two were dressed akin to the Imperial Knights. The first man who introduced himself seemed extremely familiar to me. Yet I could not quite place it. Calling me a Brother unto him, and apologies for having to make the Wardens wait for an audience, as well as not having the big man himself come out here. It made complete sense to me. They were fighting a war against the Sith-Imperials at the current time. Meaning that all their efforts were drawn towards a singular front. One in which they sought to bring about to an end quickly.

I tried to play along with them. Merely rubbing my growing beard as to ponder their actions as soon as they walked in the door.

"One could assume fashionably late is right on time?"

I smiled lightly making sure to use non-verbal ques that it made no matter to me at the moment. These men were extremely busy, so finally being able to gain an audience with even a single member was most welcome.

Indicating the rest of the room as it was currently only ourselves, an open hand ended on a table off to the side with some simple drinks and small snacks as refreshments. Due to not knowing how long this would be, I decided that an ice-breaker would be in attendance. Secondly, my father always told me to never visit or ask for someones attention without a gift or a token of thanks for their time.

"Take your time. We are still waiting for others to join us. If you wish to have refreshments to ail the bumpy ride here, then be my guest."

The individual who seemed more Jedi like in appearance, wearing robes with a cowl to almost hide himself to the side. Was he just one of their trainees? In which case he did not wear their armor yet? Or was he a Jedi Ambassador for them? I would not pick him out right off the bat as he seemed... not interested in what was going on here for the most part.

"As you have mentioned, I am Kaleleon. These here with me are my followers Apprentice Alani, and Knight Drou."

Indicating the Cathar woman of Alani with the armored man Drou in kind. Allowing them to bow their head for a small duration and rather shallow. Enough to show respect of another person, but not one that would be given to Family, or a Master they knew and respected.

"If you wish to be formal with titles we may, or we can just use our names. I wish not to waste any more of your time away from the battle front."

It was spoken in all truth. I wanted these men to feel comfortable to a degree. Having any sign of hostility would only make the process more difficult, but at the same time, I acted formal for now. Deeming it necessary unless otherwise, but providing the option to be more informal should they so wish. Their lives of an Order, being tasked with specific requirements and regulations was one I knew well with my time in the Corellian Confederation, later becoming the Galactic Republic and now the Galactic Alliance. As well as my tenure with the Silver Jedi and their various regiments of Jedi. Sticking steadfast to their own version of the Jedi Codes.

Maybe, showing these men that I was just a simple man pressed to become something more, would provide an easier time for our convening venture.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Arkania // Adascopolis // The Renegade → Meeting Room
Rolling up with the crew: Allyson Locke // Auteme // Bernard of Arca // Maynard Treicolt // Ryv
KING CUDI​

​

​

“It’s not that I---” she started to protest to Maynard’s triumphant claims, but left the sentiment on the short side with a combination of a knowing sigh and simper. Loske held up her hands in admitted defeat after unclasping the crash webbing. “You did a great job on the upgrades - especially with this hostile atmosphere. I just think, maybe after this trip the uh..well. I heard some creaking.”

Our space. A remarkable turn of events for the formerly onesome spacer. Loske’d managed to worm her way into a permanence that was mutually appreciated and accepted. When they were both out of their seats, and seeking to steal a moment before the mission, She huffed an exhale acknowledging the humour of the missed romantic opportunity and met his grip with a squeeze that promised later was always an option.

When the door hissed open, and revealed the heavy faces on the other side, Loske was eternally grateful to be stowed away in the cockpit. For..several reasons.

As grim as the reason to have everyone together, there was something about a dawn here. Long past were the days of moving boxes around a medical bay with Bernard (Barnyard, affectionately), Ryv and Auteme. With Allyson in the mix, it was like everything was all coming together. Maybe it was the solemness in each of their faces, but there was a forced maturity in the containment of The Renegade that was worth appreciating. Loske couldn’t fight the sort of grim smile that suffused its way forward to her lips. These were fierce friends to have. Maynard rallied the troops while she observed with her level of nostalgia.

Adascopolis’ world around them whistled. Even the spaceport was methodically protected, and the touch of the cold never made its way to the persons travelling from The Renegade to the designated meeting room. Stretches of protection arching overhead that captured the blustering snowflakes and kept them from touching the tourists, much to the blonde’s relief and in the time from landing pad to entryway, she was able to draw the connection of the planet’s chill matching the personality of the one Arkanian she knew. Appropriate.

Seriousness took over the team, and Loske was once again grateful not to be an empath. Some wore their concern more than others, and she made a mental note to check in on Auteme after the meeting. They’d tried to interact a bit before, onboard the ship, but Loske had been distracted with trying to help co-navigate their hyperjump through purrgil territory so they didn’t sustain any damage or get kicked off course. She’d been distracted when the girl had needed a friend.

The coordinates that had been shared with the request to rally drew their footsteps up to a Jedi Temple influenced by Arkanian architecture. Or so Loske assumed, based on the quick glimpses of silhouettes she’d seen on the walk.

There were already a few gathered, and with the numbers now collected, she assumed no further representatives would be sidling in. Not that more would be a bad thing in this instance. They seemed to be rolling through introductions, everyone equally awkward and not necessarily aware of one another. She was decidedly not a fan of meetings, but her perception of them had been changed after the congregating to discuss going for The Head of the Bryn'adûl. As frustrating as it was to get everyone to gather, she had come to realize the requirement of it. Communication was essential, and she didn't have to lead it or do any major representation, so that was good and fine. She'd leave that to the Sword.

The knight that seemed to be distributing efforts and attentions, the one that had called them together, was recognized from a strange run in on Onderon, and Loske lifted a hand in salutations on arrival. She’d met him as Kale Seleare, though things looked to have become more official. Such was the weight of war.

She caught the tail end of a sentence mentioning Mygeeto, which placed the other pale-skinned individual in the room as an ally from the New Imperial Order. The other, who was in relative proximity of the NIO representative also likely from that government. And there was that pilot! Lucien. Cool. Things were truly coming together.

“Kale, hi - I’m kind of surprised your pet --Narma, right? --wasn’t waiting around outside.” She offered a faux glance around. Hopefully it wasn’t dead, as horrifying as the creature was.

“Good seeing you again, even under circumstances.”

Kaleleon // Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne // Lambert Vasari // Lucien Dooku // Rurik Fel

 

[Sarenus Belamaut]

Tags: Kaleleon Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne Lambert Vasari Lucien Dooku Rurik Fel Ryv Maynard Treicolt Bernard of Arca Auteme Allyson Locke

Having given up his Jedi title for a path of more action than mediation, Saren had joined the Wardens hoping his sword could be used to do better for the galaxy. His ideals and opinions on the current aspects of what was going on demanded action, any action. Ilum being the most recent transgression against a world of peace, and isolation, what had happened there was unnecessary. For a moment, Ilum had been considered neutral, and safe for all to walk on it's surface, no one group claimed ownership of the planet and it's recourses. Saren believed it was best continued to honor that, it was made apparent that even the Sith had understood the importance such a world held to the galaxy as whole. Past, present, and future. With the Imperials of neo fighting the Sith, and the Alliance dealing with it's own things, and the Jedi following the heels of the government, it was up to the Wardens to put the foot down finally, and say enough was enough. If it had been his way, Saren would have disregarded this meeting all together, and lead the reaction of the action himself. Saren had been there many of times, on the battlefront, his saber high in the air as he lead the charge. A veteran of violence, but it had failed to change him for the worse, the once Jedi still held compassion deep in his heart and he slept well at night...most of the time.

Regardless, here he was, stepping inside the room holding many faces he was unaware of, and Kaleleon who had been charged with a certain kind of leadership over this Wardens of Light. On paper this group sounded exactly where Saren needed to be, but enacted, he still wasn't sure of. How long would they sit here, and discuss what was going on? Sure, anything needed to be thought about before just rushing in without a plan, but talking for too long did more damage than good. And sometimes it was exactly what was needed, charging head first without much thought of what was to come to get things done and the point made.

"My apologies for being late Kaleleon." He mouthed to the man as he moved next to him.

It was quite clear the talks had not begun but formal greetings had been made. Saren bowed before the group quickly in politeness only. Saren would continue to stay quiet as he held no real place to speak unless asked his own opinion.

 

[Ryv]

// Adascopolis // Arkania //
// Maynard Treicolt // Loske Treicolt // Allyson Locke // Auteme // Bernard of Arca
// Kaleleon // Lucien Dooku // Sarenus Belamaut // Lambert Vasari //
// The Renegade // Just What I Am //

​

Ryv ran a hand through his hair, brushing aside the loose strands that fell into his face during training. He offered Allyson a cursory glance, amber eyes filled with disdain for the ongoing events. The Jedi Knight, typically relaxed and easy-going, found himself continuing to struggle with this inner flame. The Kiffar remembered the years spent hidden away on Nar Shaddaa, specifically the everpresent anger serving as his closest and most loyal companion. His recent frustrations matched his grating uncertainty of the Silver Jedi Order. Only working beside them helped Ryv find a sense of peace following their cowardly departure from the Core, leaving trillions to die in their wake. Following that line of thought, he couldn't imagine a similar scenario for the terrorist-born Zweihander Union and its growing forces. He wondered if when the time came, would he make the right decision?

"Allyson," Ryv began as his hand clenched and unclenched, following no particular pattern of movement. "I'm not worried about going at this alone," his gaze briefly following after Auteme, a pang of guilt clutching at his chest. "Whether you guys decided to tag along or not, this sorta thing needs the attention of the Jedi," he looked back to the Jedi Master, arms crossing over his chest. Her gentle squeeze on his arm caught his attention, a jumbled mess of emotions clawing about for dominance. "Step one is making contact with the boys willing to function as our proxy in this battle. Once we do that, we can get this business rolling and plan out a proper offensive," the Kiffar paused, his focus moving from the Jedi Shadow to the investigator among them. Memories of Bernard's steaming form, thrown over a wheeled table beside Lanik, rolling down the halls of an imperial star destroyer surfaced within the Jedi Knight's mind.

"It's been a while, Bernard," Ryv forced away the stress weighing down on him, managing a familiar smile. "I'm glad to see you're doing good, man. I was worried about you during the whole," his hands rose, awkwardly shifting about and failing to portray whatever it was Ryv was saying. "Yeah, uh," he scratched at the back of his neck. "Thanks for tagging along. It'll be good to have more people involved with all this. These three-handers are likely gonna be a more significant issue than we initially thought. Whatever they've prepared for Ilum and surrounding planets is no joke," his explanation lacked many details, most of which the Jedi Knight just didn't have. Powers within the galaxy were worth a dime a dozen, given the high turnover rate involved with their maintenance. "Hopefully, we'll manage to put Allyson to work behind enemy lines."

Maynard's self-introduction to the conversation claimed Ryv's attention next. He ran a quick check, hands running along his belt before checking to ensure his bag still hung from his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm set," Ryv turned and followed Loske off the ship, hands clasped together behind his head. "I haven't seen Kale in a minute, man. Last time I saw him was like, dank cave setting, typical Jedi stuff," he mused out loud, not particularly interested if anyone else was listening. Something else drove the Jedi Knight to fill the silence with something more familiar. The Jedi Knight's knuckles were a pale white color, his form rife with tension. So much had gone into bringing the Jedi forward. They were breaking past the limitations locked in place by the failings of those who came before. Yet, reputation and growth fell to the wayside in the face of such horrendous acts. That tension remained with the Kiffar up until he stepped into the room, housing the gathered representatives from the Wardens of Light and New Imperial Order.

"Hey there, everybody," Ryv moved to set his pack down off to the side. "Hopefully, we aren't too late. Spent the majority of the morning picking folks up from different places. Ended up adding on an hour or so," he chuckled, trying to work past the strain he felt on his being. "Name's Ryv, for those of you I haven't met you. And uh, we're the New Jedi Order."

 

[Rurik Fel]

Arkania​

Adascopolis ​

​

"An honor, Wardens. We have as much time as is needed to conclude our talks. Myself and Knight Lambert have been granted reprieve from the front, as short as it might be. There will be time elsewhere for the fray of battle. As you might expect, the Order does not rest lightly knowing that the Sith await us on the field." Rurik says to his former comrades in arms with the light as the group awaited the arrival of the others. Even if the Jedi hailing from the Galactic alliance would be the bridge in relations between the New Imperial Order and Wardens of Light, they were fittingly last in their arrival. But it was no matter, precisely scheduling an assembly of three groups spanning Galactic borders was a peculiar business in it self and it garnered no slight unto the Knight Commander.

Offering a glance toward Vasari he appraised the man's emotions. Understandably, he had every reason to be uncomfortable in this place. Whatever olive branch Kaleleon offered to the New Imperials there was still the eerie and frigid feel of being unwelcome here. Such was the dynamic between the purebred Arkanians and their offshoot cousins.

Even if the silver and black of the Knights in the barest of their panoply of battle seemed to stray away trouble, even so far from the Imperial outland from which the Order waged its war against darkness, the sheer appearance and aura of the men gathered gazes not in hatred toward the offshoot but in curiosity. Why were they here? Why now? Should the talks go well enough, the entire Galaxy would know soon enough.

To the arrival of Karis and his motley retinue of Jedi the Knight Commander turned, arching a brow over his placid expression, nodding once as he peered once over all of them. They were not so orderly as the Jedi Order he'd abandoned during the old rein of the Galactic Alliance. It didn't appear as if a master was in his sight as he looked over them. It was not a council uniform in the humble robes expected of their Order but even so, he would respect the delegation as it was.

Being as he didn't hold the title that Imperial Warlord Zovesa did, he could not work to judge the New Jedi for arriving in force as it did. Granted, he recognized the Kiffar at the head of them, Ryv. Shared students of his father, Vyrin Karis, Rurik was one of the Jedi Master's first students during the days of the Republic and old Galactic Alliance. His nature mirrored Vyrin in many facets, much more than his own blood son but even still, his relationship with Ryv was storied in that he might've been the vessel from which Ryv's discipline and adherence to an Imperial way of things lingered, sowing another common link of cooperation between the New Imperials and the Jedi.

"And so it is. Good to see you in better spirits, Ryv. And the rest of you, I am Knight Commander Rurik Wymar of the New Imperial Force Corps. With me are Knight Lambert Vasari and Prince Lucien Dooku of Serenno. I apologize once more that the Sovereign Imperator Tavlar is indisposed but you all know the nature of our common war with the Sith." Rurik states, speaking in good heart and pragmatic tone.

"Regardless, assuming the New Jedi Order speaks in the interests of the Galactic Alliance as well then I believe we've every piece in place to discuss the matter of our assembly. Now, as many of our resources gathering intelligence in Chiss space are indisposed behind Sith-Imperial lines, our Order is admittedly ignorant to a lions share of the goings on." Rurik admitted flatly, shamelessly. Whatever threat might come from the Zweihander Union was not the primary worry of the Order, the Sith Empire demanded that attention.

WARDENS // Kaleleon | Sarenus Belamaut
NIO // Lucien Dooku | Lambert Vasari
NJO/GA // Ryv | Loske Treicolt | Auteme | Bernard of Arca | Allyson Locke | Cerys gan Ymlerith Ithlinne | @Iammaynard

 

[Auteme]

A R K A N I A
Tag: Ryv Loske Treicolt Allyson Locke Bernard of Arca Rurik Fel Maynard Treicolt Kaleleon Sarenus Belamaut Lucien Dooku Lambert Vasari ​

---

Auteme gathered her things, and once the ship set down she disembarked with the other Jedi. The walk to the meeting was quiet; probably because of how the padawan was walking at the very back of the group. She was easily the smallest among the group, the least experienced, and the least powerful, but she tried to keep up nonetheless.

Before they entered, Auteme shuffled up towards Ryv. She tugged on his jacket sleeve to get his attention. "Hey, can we talk later?" It was a vague question, but it held a considerable weight for Auteme. She just wanted a moment of reassurance. All this Jedi stuff was getting to her and she didn't really know what to do. Hopefully a word from the wise might give her the insight she needed into managing this life... then again, considering how Ryv was managing it, maybe not.

The group of Jedi entered. They were kind of like a lineup of some great superhero team from a holoflick. Auteme, though, had fallen to the back again, and ended up hiding behind Bernard as the New Jedi Order entered. The people here didn't really need to know her face, anyways. She'd just be doing what she usually did at Senate meetings. With introductions made and the meeting beginning, the padawan found herself a seat near the side of the room with her recording device and notebook out. If anything important came up, she'd be quick to note it down -- Chancellor Tagge had already pledged the Alliance's support to the Jedi, but if there was an actual plan or need for resources he would need a briefing. Plus, there were a whole bunch of interesting folks here, and she didn't want to miss any nuggets of wisdom imparted by the much more experienced Jedi here.

Still, she couldn't help but feel like this was an analogy for her work with the Jedi. The others were working hard, planning, preparing to fight threats to the people of the galaxy... and Auteme sat on the sidelines, watching and writing in her notebook.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Arkania //:
//: Tags //: Ryv Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Bernard of Arca Auteme Kaleleon Rurik Fel Sarenus Belamaut Lucien Dooku Lambert Vasari

​

Allyson pulled her hand back as she nodded, agreeing with what the man was saying. "Of course, which is why I'm here." The Corellian was still getting used to dealing with the emotional fluctuations of the bond they shared, and it was one of the most powerful things she's ever felt. Hands finding their way into her pockets, she looked towards Bernard, someone that Ryv recognized. Sensing the shift in the man beside her, Allyson forced a smile on her face, their conversation cut short for the time being. The wave of emotions was something she was starting to get used to. Ryv wasn't someone who lacked feeling and passion - the Corellian appreciated it. ​

The Arkanian Jedi was someone Allyson had met only once before, but his name shared around the group of Jedi she worked with. He was held in the highest standard, which impressed the woman. She found herself almost always in a state of awe with this group of young Jedi - it reminded her of her first taste of war, her lost childhood. Allyson felt the walls she built over the years breaking, shattering, and letting these people in. "Hey, Bernard." She gave the boy a quick smile then turned to Ryv, who casually mentioned her going undercover. ​

"That's the plan. I've already pulled the strings I needed to get into a position of command. From what my contact has stated, I'll be stationed as a Commander in their Internal Affairs department seemingly doubling in their Intelligence." Allyson could feel the butterflies building up in her stomach, she had the urge to reach out toward Ryv who stood beside her, but now wasn't the time. He would be the source of comfort at a later time - after their discussions had finished. ​

Maynards familiar voice chimed in, and Allyson moved to leave, instinctively she reached for Ryv, but he seemed to have been pulled away by another. From the corner of Allyson's eye, she noticed the Padawan named Auteme talking to the man. She raised a brow, curious as to what was happening though she had other things on her mind than to worry about the small exchange. Keeping pace with Bernard, the Jedi Shadow continued towards the meeting point. With everyone gathered, Allyson stood with the others, she could feel the tension in the Kiffar Knight, and she glanced towards him. In her best efforts, she tried to give him a sense of reassurance through their bond, and she believed in him as did the others. ​

Her eyes peeled away from Ryv as he introduced himself, she looked upon the faces of the group and smiled. They were an exciting bunch, all with the same goal in mind. Some faces she recognized others she was meeting for the first time. As Ryv finished with his introduction, the Corellian gave her infamous flirtatious smirk and a delicate wave, "Allyson Locke, a pleasure to meet you all. I wish it were for something more pleasant." Her hand fell from the greeting, and she waited, she knew what she was going to be doing and what information she could present to the group - but with Ryv as their leader, she would give him the floor first to go over what was planned.​

 

[Serenity]

Serenity was doing as she always did, helping root out spies in the Galactic Alliance. So it was only natural that she attended such an important event. She had to be honest that it was hard to be part of a organization that reminded her so much of her previous position but not as much power. She wanted to make a good impression and show the organics that she could indeed be trusted to work for their benefit. She didn't say anything, it was not her place instead she used the advantage of not being an organic to observe things that others might not pay attention to, wave lengths and power spikes and Heat maps. Her body was here, it seemed to put the organics at ease when she was physically at a location, her HRD, just a human version of her holo projection. She kept constant contact with her mainframe to ensure that the data could be crosschecked by the main data banks at a speed that a single droid just couldn't achieve. Data made the world go round so to speak. She didn't try to draw attention to herself, it didn't help her job so she just tried to blend in with the Galactic Alliance's delegation.

It was easier not having to worry about the entire intelligence agency she supposed but at the same time it left her frustrated. She remembered her glory days with the republic. Working side by side with all levels of people. The many Organics she had come to be friends with before she was cut off and discarded. It had hurt that she was deemed an threat to the faction she had worked so hard for. This time she hoped that if she worked harder, then perhaps the Organics wouldn't discard her again. Perhaps she could prove her loyalty. It was all she could do she supposed. It hurt more when the faction she worked so hard for had died . Even the republic that recently merged to form this faction wasn't the same. It showed that in the end nothing is spared from the ravages of time. So with this fresh chance to prove herself by securing such an important meeting, she ensured that all of her processes were working over time to monitor all within her purview.


Tags: Ryv Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Bernard of Arca Auteme Kaleleon Rurik Fel Sarenus Belamaut Lucien Dooku Lambert Vasari

 

[Bernard of Arca]

\\ Home
\\ Tags: Ryv Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Auteme Kaleleon Rurik Fel Lucien Dooku Lambert Vasari Sarenus Belamaut

T H E _ C U D I

He became conscious of the yellow lines that marred his face as Ryv fumbled through the greeting. The synthflesh still lingered after all this time; complications brought about by the Sith-inflicted nature of his injury. He had the rescue of Lanik Dawnstar to thank for that. The name still sent a wave of contempt through the arkanian. Whatever malignant game that false Jedi played Bernard had vowed to expose him, but evidence of Lanik's true nature was hard to come by. Following up on fruitless leads consumed most of his time since his recovery. Time he would rather spend with those he'd grown to be friends with in the Order. He felt regret grasp his heart as he realized just how little he knew of what they'd been up to since his unofficial departure. He recalled absentmindedly reading the news of Ryv's appointment as Sword of the Jedi and his ascent to knighthood. The memory stung, he'd missed his friend receive two of the Jedi's greatest honours while pursuing a phantom villain. His impartial expression softened slightly but remained too obtuse to read, as he listened to the brief summary of Ryv and Allyson's plans.

He nodded his agreement to them, drawing breath to speak, but found himself cut off by the hiss of the cockpit's door. His gaze was drawn to the city that dominated the view out the transparisteel window beyond the doorframe. Seeing Arkania again made him tense up for a few moments as emotions he couldn't place surged within. He still felt conflicted about coming here, quietly wishing their summon had brought them somewhere else instead. Maynard's voice kept him from sinking back into reflection, however. The Jedi's rough Concordian was distinctive and drew attention well. It took some time to adjust to, quite unlike most dialects of basic Bernard had encountered in its nature.

As their pilots stepped into the cross-corridor he nodded towards Loske in greeting. He waved half-heartedly to her, trying to summon a smile. He was genuinely glad to be back among the few people in the galaxy he'd learned to trust, but the circumstances of Ilum's fate made the reunion bittersweet. The thought occurred to him that perhaps he could sacrifice a portion of his anonymity within the galaxy to check-in with his friends through the Jedi holonet now and then, rather than remain radio-silent for months at a time until threat brought them together again. It would pose a risk, but slowly he was realizing that sometimes taking a risk wasn't such a bad idea.

It was that sentiment which helped him overcome the inertia that held him captive aboard the ship. His first step onto Arkania itself took courage he didn't know he needed. There weren't many things that made him hesitate, but he never thought he'd count stepping out of a ship as one of them.

Arkania hadn't changed a bit since he last walked here. He still recognized the streets, the buildings, the people. A simple glance pulled free memories of places he'd visited in his youth. Without the need to call on the Force, he could trace out the paths of every street, never once feeling disoriented as he would on any other world in the galaxy. It was a strange sensation, to feel familiarity. What he'd felt aboard the ship had been an echo of what he felt now. Together, the two reunions were overwhelming. He felt something cold run down his face and brought his sleeve up to wipe away the snow. It must've been a stray flake that got through their overhead cover. Even arkanian design was fallible.

Without realizing, he'd followed the others to the Jedi Temple. He stood frozen before it for several long heartbeats. He felt the dam of memories break free fully, at last, when his eyes followed the story of the intricate carving above the main entrance path. The temple had been his everything a decade ago. Nothing else in the galaxy quite bound him like-

He closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists, releasing a long breath. Duty came first. Reminiscence could come later. Repetitions of the Jedi's mantra brought peace to his thoughts again, suppressing the whirlwind of emotion that had broken loose for the sake of their mission.

He gazed back to the city when they finally began to enter the meeting hall, losing himself in its view for as long as he could. Auteme finally broke his view as she stepped inside behind him. The last remnants of the turmoil he felt manifested when he actually formed an expression that wasn't impassive neutrality, genuinely smiling for what was perhaps the first time in years as he nodded towards the others as an indication that they needed to hurry up to not be left behind. Though, he wasn't very worried about getting lost, the layout of these halls came to him like second nature.

When he finally took seat in the temple's conference chamber, he'd assumed his usual cool again. Many of their allies had already assembled, though he didn't recognize any of them, save for one distinctive man of unorthodoxy. He let his gaze linger an additional moment when he found Lucien Dooku, nodding in acknowledgement when their eyes met. The neatly disciplined Knights of the New Imperial Order standing in line next to him made the Rogue Jedi stick out even more than he would have otherwise. Bernard couldn't help but let the faintest smirk wander into his expression as he tore his attention from the delegation and to the speeches of those already present.