Faction [THP] Call to Arms

[Jack Wright]

Obj. II
(Tags: Vera Noble , OPEN)​

What was she smirking about? Jack felt his own eyebrows quirk amusement, to the small measure of confidence he picked up in the young Padawan, resting both elbows on his bending knees, reciprocating the look, more curious if anything.

"Nah, I just feel like chilling in the snow while planets get obliterated," Sass aside, Jack cocked one shoulder, his smile softening to become more profound, contemplative, "Yeah, I'll be there. I spent enough time in base pretending to meditate, anyway."

A pause, the older Jedi offered in some comfort.

"It's natural to worry, but everything will be fine. Trust in your family as naturally as anyone trusts in the Force."

A little rote in advice, but Jack thought it might help. Following young Vera's stare to the glittering stars, finding comfort again in the sight. All under danger, more prominant with the current circumstance in question, Jack rubbed his beard after a second, smirking mirthlessly.

"Another planet-destroying weapon... You think they'd learn by now." But that implied the Sith ever followed any lesson with minor exceptions. Huffing through nostrils, the Jedi's grin widened fractionally over to his new companion, "Calling it now: A farmhand will blow it up."

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Odessen - Odessen Outpost

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

Ace watched Lestra throw his hands toward the horizon like he was unveiling some grand secret. Tic tilted his head the same way, chirping once in confusion.

"Yonder." Ace repeated flatly, as if trying the word on his tongue. He shook his head, a humorless huff escaping before his eyes dropped back to his lightsaber holster.

Lestra revealed as to why he wasn't on Eshan. Him not being needed? Didn't sound right. Weren't most Jedi all welcoming and accepting of help? Ace's eyes flicked back to Lestra, brow raised.

"'Lone dog,' huh?" His fingers drummed against the leather strap.

The phrase snagged on him. Dogs were leashed things, trained and tethered. He'd never been that, so he couldn't relate. If anything, what sat under his skin was closer to a wolf - restless, wounded, half-wild. Something that belonged in the dark edges of a fire, close enough to watch but not sit among the crowd.

"Funny." he muttered, voice low. "That's just a dressed-up way of saying you've got no one watching your back. You do realize you're part of an entire rebel movement, right?"

For a long moment he let the words hang, a very faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Then it was gone quickly, as he looked ahead - toward the forest, the fire, the others. His eyes carried a deeper darkness.

"You're not wrong. Showing up matters." He admitted. "But people don't always take it the way you want. Sometimes it gives 'em hope. Sometimes it makes them think you'll fix everything for them." He paused. "And when you can't… it cuts deeper."

Ace leaned back against the strut, eyes flicking toward the sky where Lestra was staring, but his voice stayed low.

"Careful with that 'lone dog' routine. Wolves run in packs for a reason."

Lestra Thairk ​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

There were many others present on Odessen other than himself. Some were spending time together, preparing to go into battle. Many were engaged in camaraderie boosting endeavours; a valuable thing in such a time. Caelan remained in his meditative state, allowing his feelings to spread out through the structure and beyond, letting peaceful feelings waft from him to those around him.

At least, until he felt something off.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, taking in the still empty room around him. Unsurprising. Though there were a lot of old friends among those in the organization, there were far more that he did not know. He stood, dusted the creases out of his robe and focused his mind on seeking out the discordant frequency he’d felt through the Force only a moment prior. This was why he was there. He would not go into this battle, though he believed that their defense was right. He would not because he did not believe that all avenues to resolve it had been undertaken, and because he had a responsibility to secure his own people, and his children, especially now.

He would remain on Odessen, with his children not far away, and serve in a capacity that allowed him to help with healing and distribution of medical supplies. And, should the need arise, he would engage in diplomatic endeavours from the safety of the royal transport. Though he believed that the leader of the Galactic Empire was a great evil, even the most vile had something they wanted, and for it, something they would sacrifice. Meaning even they could be reasoned with.

Leaving the confines of the building behind, he drifted in the direction of where many others were talking around several bonfires. For the most part, everyone seemed to be alright, taking things in stride, but there was one among them, wearing a saber as he did, that gave the feeling of sadness, hurt, and distress. One whose mind lingered in conflict. One with a tear that had left a trail down her cheek.

“You seem burdened,” he said, as he approached. “Will you allow me to help carry what weighs you down?”

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: Malora Varis ​

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

The Eshan Enclave.
The last stop before battle. A gathering point for Jedi who still felt the unshakable duty to shield the galaxy from the darkness gathering at its heart.

Among them was Jedi Master Sakadi Sinvala.

Her face was cold, her eyes harder still. She had known war. So much war. The war against the Sith, the chaos of the Elder Compact, the defence against the Bryn’adûl, the battles in the Maw. She still hadn't given a place in her heart to the terror that had befallen Csilla. And this? This was Csilla multiplied tenfold. The thought of that catastrophe had been the only thing grave enough to draw her from Isobe in decades. The only reason to, once more, answer the call.

Her steps rang hollow against the Enclave’s pale floors, echoing in ways that stirred old ghosts. Most who crossed her path were strangers, though some stared with faint recognition. She was a figure out of their half-remembered pasts. A former face from the dusk of the Silver Jedi. A shadow who always seemed to appear where the fighting was thickest, and the dying worst.

That was why she'd come to the Eshan Enclave. Valery Noble was among their leaders. From what limited time she'd spent around her, she knew that Valery could point her to where the battle would need to be decided.

The Central Planning Chamber was easy to find. The Enclave’s design lent itself to purpose. Still, she paused at the threshold. Her hand hovered over the door terminal. Did she truly want to step into another war room? Reopen scars she had sworn to leave closed?

She inhaled. Exhaled. Resolved.

The doors slid open.

The chamber was as she remembered such places to be. Holomaps burning with fleet vectors and shifting fronts, datapads scattered like discarded weapons, side screens listing chains of command, communicatoin arrays, and losses yet to come. One didn’t need psychometry to feel the weight that clung here.

Three were already inside. A Padawan, Fa-Olan Warren , appearing young and earnest. A soldier, Tarw Rhyfelwr , who stood straight-backed and ready. And between them, Valery Noble. The ever vigilant flame in the galaxy’s storm.

Sakadi’s lips curved into a smile, just barely. What would the galaxy be without that orange-eyed woman?

In silence, the Sephi glided to the great holomap. Hands clasped behind her back, she began to study the lines of battle. She would wait patiently for her turn to speak with the champion of the Hidden Path.

 

[Lestra Thairk]

Tags: Acier Moonbound

"I'm a part of it. But I'm not a member of it."

For a moment, his facade broke. It was just a small moment as his gaze focused ahead of himself. He was a part of the Hidden Path, but was he truly a member of it? A part of the pack? No. Lestra saw himself as the whelp that limped along at the back of the pack. Accepted, but not able to do much. All he could do was smile. Put on a brave face and act like it was all for the best. Because if he didn't smile for those who couldn't, who would?

But then in the blink of an eye, the façade was back. A toothy grin once again spread the farm boy's visage. Lestra was the jokester. The clown. He wasn't meant to be serious. Though his grin didn't quite reach his eyes. It was getting harder for Lestra to hold the grin. It wasn't sore physically, but it was emotionally. He could hold it though. Someone had to bring the smiles. The laugh. The jokes.

"That's why I want to inspire people to do it themselves. To put the tools in their hands. Convince them they aren't powerless. But that life isn't easy. You won't get everything handed to you. I mean, look at me. All I got handed to me was half-eaten droid bits when I hung out with the Kath Hounds back home."

As if that was an explanation for how Lestra acted. That he was raised by beasts. In a way, he was. Sure, he had his parents but they never understood him like the wildlife did. He didn't have to act happy for the Hounds. They knew how he felt...It must have been some kind of smelling nonsense. Hm...Maybe that was something he should try to see if he could learn...Wait. Where was he getting with this?

"Wolves might run in packs. But they still keep those different from them at a distance."

Even if the statement might have came off as something negative, Lestra's grin didn't falter. The facade did not break. No. He just continued to stare ahead of himself. Down the road. Hoping to figure out how to find a place he belonged.​

 

[Alison Sky]

"But I can't picture her sitting this out. Not when we're lining up against a weapon like that."

"You got that right, pretty boy."

She'd drifted in on Zane's heels but finally spoke up, her words laced with teasing. He was every bit the archetype of good-looking, cocky, the textbook flyboy, but then, that description fit half the squadron. Heartbreakers and hellraisers, all of them. Still, when it came down to it, they were diehards, and that was what mattered.

She gave a nod to the others before tipping her head toward the Twi'lek perched on a crate.

"Somebody ought to go pull Supisy out of her shell, she's sitting there like she wants to vanish into the wall."

 

[Nash Tavros]

ABOARD THE LIBERATION
​

"Don't screw around with anything important while I'm gone," Nash told Cav, who made a sort of grump noise through his vocalizer that Nash chose to accept as a 'yes' and turned. "Living the dream, Michael," Nash called as he began to approach the two men, his voice so deadpan so as to make it impossible to know if he was being entirely truthful or entirely sarcastic. He approached Michael Angellus and Devin Virell , so that he could speak more conversationally. "My droid is giving me all kinds of pain in the ass, if I'm honest," he told them, untying his sleeves from around his trim waist and jamming his arms into them so he could zip up the coverall.

"Do yourselves a favor and don't ask him for our odds on this mission," Nash added dryly.

He stuck his hands in his pocket and looked around, stepping back to expand the circle to allow other pilots like Zane Cameron and Alison Sky . "Here she is," Nash said unhelpfully, jerking his thumb at the latter over one shoulder. He turned his dark eyes back to Angellus. "Have we found anything more about this monster?" he asked, trying to let the tension out of his shoulders and failing. "From what I can tell the last two of these things was taken down by snub fighters. Really interested to know whether they've iterated, and what kind of defenses we'll be up against."

Whatever it was, they would face it head on, but it would be nice to know. Forewarned being forearmed, and all that bantha poodoo.

Michael Angellus | Devin Virell | Zane Cameron | Alison Sky | Kayla Luspark | Supisy Blen | Susanoo Tsukuyomi​

 

[Malora Varis]

CALL TO ARMS..?​

Location – Odessen Jungle Outpost
Objectives – Objective 3
Tags – Caelan Valoren
Paraphernalia – Lightsaber, Bodysuit, Outfit

​

Vigilance solidified its place within her mind's court, its advice echoing the harmonies of Ashla's chorus. Each step, each breath woven into the lengthy tapestry of sheet music which shaped the Force's opus. Though whilst the Force's orchestra conducted most of her spatial awareness, the loud snapping of twigs under the weight of one's body did act as a swifter announcement of a foreign presence. Their aura lay tainted by an unusual edge, an anomalous combination of notes that while not going unnoticed, did not arise any recognition within her. The melodies faded into the thin air as Malora dispersed of her connection to the Force, her finger flicking up to her cheek to hastily be rid of the salty tear that crawled down to her indigo lips.

Her mouth's corners curled downwards at the vile query. Burdened? Burdened? As if. 'Twas a libel at most, a falsity to drag her name and rank through the mud. A foolish attempt to prod at her fears, to bare her weaknesses. It was akin to the repetitive yet all too amusing strategems her opposition oft had deployed. Yet her gaze hardened, akin to molten gold cooling...

With a light tilt of her chin, her gaze swept over the younger peer. The Pantoran's golden eyes trailed his many features--his stance, his appearance--scrutinisingly, as though assessing the condition and quality of her aide's reports before a tense negotiation. Yet the deafening silence that accompanied this scrutiny was worse, crueller, its presence lingered just long enough to turn uncomfortable. To the knowing eye, it was a deliberate strategem, utilised time and time again by friend and foe, an attempt to let one's true motives and thoughts spill through the cracks...

After the lengthy pause and extensive studying, she retorted his first statement. "There is nothing 'weighing me down'." Her tone suggested otherwise, as if spoken through gritted teeth. "Yet as we stand here... One must wonder why Jedi and diplomats must be the ones to sacrifice their time to lay shackled in a soldier's war, as though we lack fools willing enough to dive headfirst into the line of fire." A bemused huff left her, though the absence of humour within them lay as clear as day.

In time, her gaze shifted downwards over her own layered robes, smudges of soot from the bonfire lingered on its white faces. It disgusted her, nigh on as much as a blaster to her chest would. Within an instant her hand shot out to flick the dirt away. "Even the environment rejects me--does that suffice as an answer, lad?" Malora stated, a polite yet meaningless smile blossoming on her lips.

​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

He frowned as she spoke and shook his head.

"Lying is unbecoming of a Jedi," he said as he stood with his arms at his sides, regarding her.

The garb she was wearing made him think she was some form of Pantoran leadership. Perhaps a representative to the Alliance or a member of their Assembly? Difficult to tell, but the highly decorative nature of her garb told him she was something more than just the average Pantoran Jedi. Add in her obvious disdain for getting dirty and he was honestly wondering how she even functioned as a Jedi, and why she was in a forest on Odessen. Seemed kind of off for her.

And yeah, he knew she was lying. Caelan had grown accustomed to reading people both with and without the Force. Given how he'd felt her earlier, the tear trail, and the way she spoke, there was much weighing her down.

"We shouldn't be doing those things. Jedi aren't soldiers. Not meant to be, anyway, but it seems many governments count on us to bleed and die for them. Not that any Jedi I've known did so. They fight for the people, not the government."

He shrugged

"But even that goes against what the code says we should be. Mediation, working to avoid or end combat, helping the injured and displaced, is what we should be doing, not marching to war. But I find these days that I am in the minority in believing that. The few of us that do serve as the Wardens of the Light."

She had an attitude towards him that he didn't understand, considering they had never met. Or, perhaps, that was the reason for the attitude. He had approached her and asked her to share what was bothering her and neither of them knew one another. But they were both Jedi. That, at least to him, made them familiar.

"Forgive me. I am Knight Caelan Valoren, Steward of the Wardens of the Light."

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: Malora Varis ​

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

Location: Eshan
Objective: Meditate - Find Peace Before Storm
Tags: Open

Jedi Master Katarine Ryiah sat cross-legged atop the snow-blanketed sanctuary of Eshan, the wind cutting around her like a whispering blade. Her breath rose in misty clouds, each exhale a silent counting of the moments before the storm. She let her mind drift inward, as she always did before a battle, seeking the calm within the storm, the stillness before the clash.

The looming threat was unlike any she had faced in recent memory, a Death Star, a monstrous echo of destruction. She remembered the first time such a weapon had fallen, a beacon of hope shining across the galaxy. And yet, the memory only brought a pang of worry. How many times would the galaxy have to face the same shadow? How many times would they rise to meet it, only to see history repeat itself?

Her gaze swept over the frozen landscape, white and unyielding, reflecting the fractured state of the Jedi Order. They were scattered, each mission a lone strike, a small fury of knives rather than a single, precise blade. Unity was something she had once believed inevitable but now felt fragile, slipping through her fingers like snow in her palms. Would they ever be whole again? Or was this the beginning of the end, a slow unraveling that no amount of courage or skill could repair?

Katarine closed her eyes, drawing on the Force, seeking clarity, balance, and the stubborn hope that had carried her through darkness before. The galaxy was fragile, but so too was its heart. And she, like the snow beneath her, would endure, waiting for the moment when the storm would break and a new path might emerge.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

A Reckoning is Coming
ESHAN
ENCLAVE

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

Enough of this crap.

He couldn’t focus, though he was trying.

So Connel got to his feet, and began walking the halls of this Enclave. It was nice. Not to his tastes that he was used to, but still nice. He would take better care of his thoughts, and better take in and enjoy the surroundings another time. Right now Connel had a lot to think about and prepare for. Was his place even here anymore? He was more “Soldier” than “Jedi”, at least lately, but he held to the principles of what his father had taught him, and the Code itself… but once the new team transport landed, the gear he would put on made it hard to recognize the Guardian inside him.

Three Padawans were standing at the end of the hallway, they were talking about the possibilities of what could happen with the Empire. This was not good. Connel was never one for blind, baseless, or naive positivity, but he had to quell their concerns. Connel approached the Padawans, his presence commanding yet calm. He listened briefly, then spoke with measured assurance, addressing their fears without dismissing them. Drawing on his experience, he reminded them of the strength in unity and the importance of staying focused on their training, no matter the challenges ahead. It wasn’t the perfect approach, but it worked.

While it felt good to do that, Vanagor knew he was going to have to block this out soon. He was going to have to be that line that others shouldn’t have to cross. It sucked, but it was the sense of duty he grew into. While Caltin had never forced his own principles into his son, trying to let the boy lean into his own natural skills and abilities, well… Connel saw his father as his hero, his role model. It was going to happen regardless. However Connel wasn’t his father. He wasn’t that mountain of a Jedi that “stood between the monsters and the weak”, he was the one walking in the shadows, thinning the numbers from within so that when the monsters would GET to the “weak” they would be less than.

Connel knew, and accepted this. It was his way of making the hard decisions, the “heavy lifting” so no one else would have to. It was his way.

It was also this level of thinking that took away Connel’s realization that he had just walked into the war room. The Marine that the team knew “Ryfelwr”? He was there talking with Padawan Warren and Master Noble. Who was the other by the holomap… wait?

Master Sakadi?

The Sephi probably wouldn’t recognize him. After all, the last time she had seen him was when he was a little kid. Connel hesitated, unsure if he should approach or remain unnoticed. The war room was abuzz with strategy and tension, a stark contrast to his usual shadowed operations. Master Sakadi’s presence surprised him, stirring memories of his childhood. Would she remember him, or was he just another face from the past?

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.

Valery Noble • Sakadi Marathi Sinvala • Tarw Rhyfelwr • Fa-Olan Warren​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Personal Armour
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare, Atrisian Dancer, Engagement Ring
Companion: Isari
Tag: Ayra Lowe Krass Wyms OPEN

Eve smiled as she watched the shift in Ayra's eyes, the fragile timidity giving way to something steadier, even if it was only the determination to stand despite the fear. She nodded once, firmly, a quiet pride stirring in her chest. She understood that resolve well. it was one she had clung to herself not so long ago.

"In that, we're quite alike," she said gently, silver eye warm with recognition.

Her hand slipped to her hilt. With a snap-hiss, Stillness flared to life, its white blade bright against the pale frost that clung to the training grounds. The light painted across the snow, sharp and brilliant.

"Before anything else," she told her, voice calm. "Connect with your breath. Breathe with the Force. Remember, it's always here, guiding you, protecting you. No matter the outcome, our duty is to embody it and to surrender to it."

She let the words sink in, then gestured lightly toward Ayra's hilt.

"Feel it flow through you as you hold your saber. Let it become an extension of your will, not a weight in your hands."

Her stance eased into readiness, blade angled low but steady as she smiled gently.

"Whenever you're ready, Ayra, strike at me."

 

[Krass Wyms]

Everest Vale @Arya lowe

She listened to the one teaching the padeawan and she had good advice. Their equipment looked less ideal but the smit remained there with a more curious look on her face. "Are you the one called Everest Vale ?" She said it more curious while popping open the small case and looking over at her. "The Grandmaster got you a gift for your service to the order." HEr voice came out but she picked it up and moved as she looked at the sabers. Hearing it for a moment but letting the padawan focus herself and get ready. SHe looked at Arya and took a moment mostly to wipe a hand on her apron. "If you want it we have made the new BATTLEMASTER for helping in combat to increase combat efficiency." Her head turned back. "I am Quartermaster Wyms with supplies."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora was content to watch as Shan imparted his wisdom unto the Padawans - it was the sort of advice learned from experience. Years of grueling, intensive work. There would be times where it would drain you of everything you had.

"Well said," she nodded to the Mirialian. Her smile curled at the edges with a note of pride for her friend. Shan had been a little awkward and uncertain as a Padawan, but he'd grown into someone more grounded. A man aware of his limits, and sure of his skills in a way that wasn't arrogant.

Cora addressed the students, next; "Spend some time familiarizing yourself with the flow of energy in these crystals. The more accustomed you become to them, the easier they'll be to use on the battlefield. But, be mindful of what Doctor Shan said - they act as an aid, not a cure."

Then, in a lower voice, she turned to Shan and spoke with a cadence meant to be heard only between them. "It's good to see you again, Shan." Her lips quirked upward with faint amusement. "How have you been? I've been thinking of taking a little break to go and seek out Valery, soon."

Shan

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery exhaled slowly as she pulled back from the holomap, the shifting lines of red and green leaving their weight heavy on her shoulders. She pressed a hand over her face, then through her hair, before she straightened again. Tired as she was, there was no time to linger in it.

When Fa-Olan stepped in, her expression eased into a smile. "Thank you," she told him, "Your willingness means more than you know. I will need you close in the days ahead, not just for running errands. When the fighting begins, I want you at my side." She gave him a reassuring nod, hoping to convey her trust in him.

Her gaze lifted as Tarw entered next. She inclined her head to him, the corner of her mouth tugging faintly. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't tired," she admitted, "But everything is set in motion now. The fleets, the soldiers, the Jedi, and all the logistics. It is all coming together."

The sound of the doors sliding open drew her attention once more, and when her eyes found Sakadi, another smile graced her lips. "It has been some time," Valery said, dipping her head in greeting. "It is good to see you again." Her gaze swept briefly between all three, "It is good to see so many answering the call."

Fa-Olan Warren Tarw Rhyfelwr Sakadi Marathi Sinvala ​

 

[Shan]

Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"Do your best out on the field. That's all we can ask of you. And I'll expect you all back here so that I can work on teaching you all triage. Nothing makes for a better teacher than someone with experience."

Perhaps it was a bit much of Shan to be talking about classes and lessons after the battle, but it was to give the Padawans hope. Hope that things would continue no matter what. There were perhaps a fair few of them that thought of this battle as something with finality. That after the battle, nothing would be the same. But Shan was giving them Hope to think otherwise. Win or lose, life continued. If it convinced a Padawan to fight through their pain to get to something as simple as his class? It was all worth it.

Either way, he turned his attention over towards Cora, giving her a tired smile which in of itself, was an answer to her question. He was exhausted. But in the same way that he had found his limits for how much pain he could endure, Shan knew how much he could push himself. He wouldn't be breaking down anytime soon, but to say that he wanted to rest his eyes and go for a hibernation of sorts wouldn't be far from the truth.

"Honestly? Not the greatest. There's so much pain going on in the Galaxy and only so much I can do. But I'm trying to listen to the advice I gave them. Don't focus on who I can't save. Focus on who I can."

Shan was slowly learning how not to be a hypocrite and listen to his own advice. Slowly but surely.

"Plus, there's people supporting us. I can't let them down. I can't let Lily down. Whilst others will be out there fighting and taking lives to protect, I'll be out there saving them. Seeing Valery sounds like a good idea though. I haven't spoke to her or the others much recently."​

 

[Vera Noble]

​

Tag: Jack Wright

​

Vera smirked at his farmhand prediction. She let his words settle in, then gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "Thanks, Jack. I needed to hear that," she said with a softer smile.

She admitted, after a breath, that she was nervous. Still, she trusted Aris and Mom to handle themselves in battle. They were among the finest Jedi of the Order, after all. Still, that did not mean she did not worry, only that she would stand with them anyway.

As for the weapon, her eyes stayed on the glittering sky. "I hope we can destroy it, or at least blunt whatever it can do so fewer worlds get hurt," she said with a sigh.

"Then we hit them back."

​

 

[Jack Wright]

Obj. II
(Tags: Vera Noble , OPEN)​

"Twice as hard," The Knight mused evenly, casting his eyes up among the stars, yet again. They'll be venturing out there, soon enough, the though curling her fings halfway into a fist, anticipatory and the tinest bit enthusiastic. Somewhat zealous to get back out there, swing the lightsaber around.

And look good while doing it.

"Trust in the Force, kid, it'll show us how best to hit back the Sith and all their usual, world-ending nonsense." It was a nice platitude, Jack quirked a light-hearted brow, feeling more assured himself by his own words, to be honest. "But I'd definitely take the advice of hitting the Sith most. Violence is always the solution when it comes to those mother-" His joking veneer matched with a smirk. "Uh, you get the picture."

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Odessen - Odessen Outpost

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic

Ace caught the slip in Lestra's grin before it snapped back into place. A mask. Spending a lifetime of wearing his own, he knew the signs all too well. Not in the same way as Lestra but, masks were masks.

Tic chirped at the mention of "half-eaten droid bits," a sharp little trill that almost sounded offended. Ace gave the droid a light pat, eyes still fixed on Lestra.

"Yeah." He responded dryly, acknowledging Lestra's troubled past. "'S a hard truth for most folks to accept. But if anyone's gonna understand, it's the people here."

His gaze drifted to the bonfire, then past it, into the tree line. Shadows clung there the way they always did, and for a moment he looked like he belonged to them more than the circle of light. His face didn't shift much at all, it was blank, unreadable, as if the firelight couldn't reach behind his eyes.

Lestra had basically called himself an outsider, implying that maybe he wasn't accepted among the various rebels, runaways and wounded amongst them. A chuckle, low and dry, left his lips. The kid reminded him a lot of himself not too long ago, but his time with the Path taught him that he's only an outsider if he allows himself to be.

"Don't confuse distance with exile, Lestra. Wolves don't waste space on something they don't see as their own."

His eyes and expression still carried that hollow stillness, but the intent of his words were to encourage. Ace adjusted himself against the strut, now glancing sideways but staring at nothing.

"Keep the grin if it helps." He said, tone flat as always "But don't kid yourself. Nobody here needs you to fake it to stick around."

Lestra Thairk ​

 

[Ayra Lowe]

// Padawan Lowe //
// Objective II // Train //
// Focus // Everest Vale // Krass Wyms // OPEN //

---

---

A soft smile eased onto the lips of the younger Echani as the pair found similarity beyond their features. It was nice to know that her nerves were not unnatural, even among the more apparently brave. Ayra listened carefully as Eve began to speak, simple instructions but their importance was hard to deny.

Watching the pale blade glow in front of her, the padawan would wait before igniting her own in turn. The hum of the knight's lightsaber rang rhythmically in her ear, rising and lowering in a gentle hum.

A pale blue blade would ignite from Ayra's own hilt as she tuned into the rhythm of her own blade, shutting her eyes tight as she attempted to match the rise of her breath with the blade before her. An attempt to be in tune with her weapon, to match it to herself and feel it as an extent of her arm.

Eyes opened once again, more sure of purpose this time. While not quite fully in tune with the lightsaber in her hands, it had succeeded in calming her breaths.

A voice came from the side, though Ayra wouldn't allow it to pull her from her concentration. "Apologies, I can't afford a distraction at the moment master." It took only a second for Ayra to focus before pulling the blade to her chest, carefully observing the woman before her and her knuckles tightening around the hilt.

The swing would come shortly after, launched horizontally towards the side of the Jedi in front of her. Though, presumably, it mattered little to a Jedi of Eve's caliber, the strike came from the direction of her uncovered eye, an attempt to show some decency for the one training her.