Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Scar Connection



Joran had not been expecting visitors.

The Eadu Enclave was not empty; a few Jedi had already begun to trickle in now that it was nearing completion, and that was not counting the dozens of support staff and non Force users that resided at the Enclave. Most that arrived Joran had been expecting, and had met them in turn. So when he received a request for a face to face meeting by an individual he had not only never heard of, but was also very decidedly not a Jedi, Joran had not been sure what to think or expect. He did not feel any outright danger through the Force at the coming meeting, and what gleaning he did of possible futures had given no signs to indicate that something ill would come from the meeting. Joran had accepted the meeting, and sent a message giving landing coordinates to one of the Enclaves two landing pads.

Joran now stood waiting on that very landing pad, his white and brown robes plastered against him from the wind currents that tore their way through the many mountain spires in this region of Eadu. Traces of water slapped against Joran's face as he looked up, watching for the approach of his visitor, a warning that another of the planets regular heavy storms was forming. Joran would need to begin sealing down the Enclave to ensure those inside remained safe when the worst of the storm hit, but they had a few hours yet before it arrived.

"What could possibly be in store for me today..." Joran said, folding his hands behind his back as the first signs of a incoming craft became visible through the planets cloud layer.

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In close quarters like this, constrained by Eadu's geography, Kasmion's conveyance of choice was a sixty-year-old Mon Cal Niathal-class shuttle, a fairly common sight in the Scar Worlds. He brought it down deftly on one of the two landing pads, courteously distant from the man standing thereupon. Sensors hadn't picked up much of anything to worry about: this place seemed much like its initial impression, a practical and somewhat protected Jedi enclave. No flamboyance, but some attempt at solemnity. Seriousness of purpose. The background noise of the dozens of mind here suggested something similar. No, these weren't Core Worlds Jedi princeling crusaders, these were adults. Presumably.

He kept a small stun blaster inside his robes, just as a matter of basic prudence - his every-day carry, nothing special, no particular threat to it.

He came down the shuttle's ramp, flinched against the rain, and came to meet Joran Olan Joran Olan . Weathered, with some weight on his shoulders; late thirties, or early forties, perhaps, not much younger than Kasmion.

"Good afternoon," he said. "I'm Kasmion Duum from Kesh - we messaged briefly. I'm told your enclave has been here for some time? What sort of Jedi work do you do?"


Joran lifted a hand to shield his eyes as the landing shuttle set up a wash of rain, buffeting him now from both above and to his front. As a Jedi with a connection to the Force, able to bend and control it to an extent, Joran would have been able to create a barrier to shield himself from the upwash, but doing so would have been a needless use of the Force, and a show of egotism in a way that stank of the Sith to Joran. A little water never hurt anyone, and having spent years on Eadu, he had long grown used to being a little damp.

Joran bowed his head in greeting as the man walked down the ramp, as much a greeting as it was a show of respect. Every being had the right to self decency, and it cost Joran little to show those het met a fair amount of respect. Extending a hand outward, Joran gestured for his guest to follow him as they began to make their way towards the Enclave's interior.

"It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Kasmion Duum," Joran said, his voice warm and relaxed,"I am Joran Olan as I am sure you are aware, but it never hurts to have a proper in person introduction." The two of them stepped through an archway, separating the extended landing pad from the interior of the mountain spire where the Enclave was primarily located. They passed two of the volunteer security guards on duty at the time as well, standing at casual attention near the opening and giving both Joran and Kasmion a brief nod.

"The Eadu Enclave itself," Joran said, "has existed in one form or another for over twenty years. It was originally overseen by my master, Kellian Cass, before I took over stewardship. It has served as a teaching ground and safe haven for ten years since then, but only recently has it begun to take steps towards becoming a proper Enclave for the Jedi."

They came to a halt in the Hall of Entry, the primary avenue of entrance to the Enclave, located near the top of the mountain spire. The Residential Hall, the parts of the Enclave visible above ground, surrounded them on all sides. On the ground at their feet, a mural of Jedi in times past was displayed, along with lines of text in a language lone since forgotten by the rest of the galaxy. There were a few other people in the courtyard of the Hall of Entry, though they were moving quickly, not lingering in the area as Joran gestured towards the steps leading into the actual Enclave.

"As for what we do," Joran said, folding his arms behind his back, "the Enclave is a place of learning and contemplation. Jedi may come here, or reside here, in hopes of improving their own knowledge and abilities, and forming connections with other Jedi. Beyond that, though, the Eadu Enclave seeks to help the Scar Worlds, and all worlds in the Outer Rim, to rebuild and prosper. We seek to protect those in need, and combat the threats in this region of space seeking to bring pain, misery and hardship to the innocent."

A small smile cross Joran's face at the last words, a smile seeped in pain and regret. "Things Jedi are supposed to be doing."

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"I have to admit," said Kasmion as he walked with Joran Olan Joran Olan , "that puts my mind at ease."

He didn't verbally contrast that with other incarnations of the Jedi way; he didn't need to. It was obvious and would have been gauche.

"I've heard your former leader's name, as it happens. We never met, but I'm aware of a reputation for doing good in the context of the Scar Worlds. There are relatively few such names that reach my ears. You could call me cautiously excited for the influence your upscaled operations will have on the region. Downright optimistic."

He paused at the centre of the mural floor, turning slowly to see it all.

"I'm a practitioner myself, though separate from the Jedi and the Sith and so forth. Compilations of fringe traditions. The Shamers, Kooroo, this and that. I'm a telepath."


"I hope that in time, we can prove that hope warranted," Joran said as he glanced away from his guest. A few of the Enclaves younger students were making an appearance across the courtyard, speaking in excited whispers are they made their way from the Residential Hall towards the main entrance leading further into the Enclave proper. They would be on their way to the Meditation Hall this time of day, Joran guessed. Either on their own or under the guidance of an instructor, they would spend time contemplating their place in the universe, and forging a stronger bond with the Living Force.

"My master," Joran said, gesturing for the two of them to fall the students inside, "was a great woman. In a galaxy full of hatred and pain, she was one of the few truly good people I knew. She looked after those in need, protected them, and wanted to give this corner of the galaxy a better future. The very least I can do to honor that legacy is to continue her work, and build upon the foundation that she forged through tireless effort and resolve."

Joran led them through gracefully curving hallways, many with glass murals providing natural illumination rather than any artificial light. "I have met a few individuals who have the same background, though none quite as developed as yourself, it is a rare gift," Joran said as they came to a pair of large, wooden double doors. Joran pushed against them, opening them to reveal a sparsely decorated office. A single desk sat in the middle of the room with several chairs in front of it, and several bookshelves lined one wall of the office. Beyond that, the room was empty. Joran gestured for Kasmion to take a seat in front of the desk.

"Would you care for a drink?"

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Rather than take the seat — it looked a little snug — Kasmion stood at the bookshelf. You could tell a great deal about a person by the books they chose to present to the world: age, condition, subject, organization, cleanliness. He examined the books carefully.

"Water, thank you," he said over his shoulder. "I prefer to stay clear-headed. I can't recall if Jedi drink recreationally. Spice is off the table, I presume. Is gambling?"

He wasn't out to recruit Jedi into a life of vice; he had reasons for asking.


Joran let out a a brief, hearty laugh as he moved towards one corner of the room, a small table set with multiple glasses and containers on it. "Anything done in moderation is fine," Joran said, pouring two glasses of water. "It is when one indulges in excess that problems emerge. That holds true not only for drinking, but gambling as well." Joran handed one of the glasses to Kasmion, a smile still lingering on his face.

"Though personally, I think spice is a step too far even in moderation." Joran noted that Kasmion had not taken a seat, and as to avoid being rude, Joran chose to lean back against his desk rather than taking a seat. He took a sip from his glass of water, before placing it down on a small piece of cloth, as to avoid doing any damage to the wood.

"So," Joran said, folding his hands across his chest in a relaxed pose, "tell me Kasmion. What is it that you hope to see come from the Enclave, and what is it that you get up to in this distant region of space the rest of the galaxy would like to forget about?"

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"Truth be told, I'm a frustrated man. I barely remember my homeworld as it was. I carve out space for myself and those who count on me, in one way or another — and that precludes so many things we all might have been."

He sipped the water and kept the glass in hand, still scanning the books. At last he turned to face his host.

"Seeking advantage, security, opportunity for me and mine. That's my work. Anything else would feel like a luxury. What I'd like to see from the Enclave is a positive and protective influence on the area, reliable people to call in case of raiders, trustworthy neighbours. In time, perhaps, I'd like to learn and teach, but those would feel like luxuries too."


"On that," Joran said, inclining his head, "you have my word. The Eadu Enclave seeks to bring peace to this region of space, but most importantly, to help it rebuild and recover. We do not seek to control and govern, but to provide the resources and security these worlds need to make their own decisions." Joran reached down to grab his drink, taking another sip of his water.

"If you wish to teach, I am certain there are those who will listen. That will come in time, like you say. As for luxury, when your life and purpose is to take care of others, anything for yourself seems selfish, like a waste of time." Joran pushed himself away from the desk, walking over to bookshelves along one side of the room. He ran one of hands across the leather bound side of the books, enjoying the simple tactile feel. He grabbed one of the books seemingly at random, holding it up for Kasmion to see.

"This book," Joran said, "is a gift from my Master, Kellian Cass. I have read it cover to cover half a dozen times." Joran lowered the book, pointing to many of the other books on the shelf. "The rest of these books, I have never had the time to read. Each one I have collected in my travels across the Scar Worlds, but whenever I found the time to read them, matters came up that either needed my attention, or I felt as though I was wasting time that could have been spent helping others."

Joran turned back to look at Kasmion, a smile on his face. "Perhaps both of us will find the time for this luxury we call time."

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