Open The Cycle Repeats

Oren Zapan

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Jedi Only, Takes place after Sullust and Ajan Kloss
Please Do Not Spam Post - This thread will close on December 26th, 2020 or Earlier

Muse
There was a stillness to it all, a quietness that seemed to fill the temple grounds and the many Jedi that made their way through the halls. Oren could see it, he could feel the dejectedness among them all. This was truly dark times for the galaxy and the Jedi as a whole.

Failed I did, to prevent the Order from falling apart at the hands of Andraste. The old Jedi Master Wyck's teachings had rang through Zapan's ears as he sat alone in the assembly room -- the same room that had been a spark for rebellion all those years ago.

There had been so much loss, from the holocrons of the Jedi Archives, to the countless younglings and Jedi, from his friend Sada-Nau Tin, to their Mentor and leader, Oota Boan. Perhaps this was the marking of the end for the Jedi Order, their hubris had once again brought them to their knees and the galaxy would suffer greatly because of it. Perhaps the cycle was not meant to be broken, perhaps this was how things were truly meant to be? A Jedi's life is sacrifice... The words ran through Oren's mind as he took a deep breath -- reaching out within the force to center himself.

Even in all the darkness, a light could be felt among those wounded and recovering, among the ships returning from all points in space to the Jedi's last defensive position, among the jungle it roared with the force -- that of life. This is why they could not fail, why Oren could not. For the galaxy was not doomed yet, not while so many needed them to be Jedi -- true Jedi. We are servants of the force, of life itself. We must accept their deaths and the meaning that came with it -- their sacrifice was so that we could continue on. There will be no balance until the Sith are destroyed or the galaxy falls into complete tyranny. We are not the keepers of the light, merely servants. If I must give my life for the greater good, then I shall. This is the Jedi way.

His eyes opened as he heard the sound of the remaining councilors entering the assembly room, Oren would offer them a simple nod as he took a deep breath. It was time the Order addressed the hubris that had lead to this outcome, it was time the order rose again, to become something far greater than it had been before. This is what all those missions, planets, stories, and experiences had lead him to. There was no breaking the cycle, there is only acceptance of what role you must play in restoring the temporary balance.

Together the council would await the others to come, from Younglings to Masters -- all would stand, all would listen, and a future would be decided then and there. Oren could only hope that things would not transpire out of control and that the Jedi would not destroy themselves like they had during Grand Master Wyck's age; that they could prevent the rise of another Andraste from within their ranks while combatting against the Sith. Only time would tell.
 

Maxims Tionson

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Another memorial.

Sad to say that Max had expected it - he had felt the ending of the Grandmaster from across the Galaxy and he knew it would have had to be accompanied by something like this. Not for the Grandmaster alone but for those who perished alongside him. Oota Boan had been on Ajan Kloss and he had not been alone.

Nor had he been alone in joining the Force that day.

Max didn't have to attend but, well, he felt as though he should. Certainly he could have chosen not to but he didn't want to shy away from it. Loss was not something he was a stranger to and it was something that had to be faced. To be accepted or else wallowed in and allowed to fester into hate and anger.

Still... Max was wheeled to the gathering of Jedi from the Temple medical bay by the hands of a Healer. The wheelchair he was confined to wasn't strictly speaking required - his legs were fine - but the healer had been strict in telling him that if he was to attend he would do so without walking.

His right arm lay submerged in a bacta solution with a glass case around it, locked in place in it's pieces until a suitable replacement could be found or made. But thinking about it, thinking about his replacement parts, felt far too much like thinking about the Council. Or thinking about the Jedi Order in general in some ways.

Replacing missing parts.

He winced in pain as his arm reminded him that bacta and painkillers did not disguise the fact that he was still broken. Instead of focusing on it, he focused on Oren, on his friend, and the other Jedi as they arrived. He tried to focus on the fact that the Order remained, endured.

But every time he tried he felt his gaze drawn back to the glass, to his arm.

Broken and twisted...

Broken and twisted.

 

Dalaa Ta

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Dalaa Ta

Dalaa had not been there for the massacre at Ajan Kloss. But he had spent many days on Yavin-4 since and seen all the Jedi padawans, younglings and everyone else who had been there come to Yavin-4 since. He felt and empathised greatly with those that had been there. Dalaa had been meditating in his little alcove in the temple, he was meditating for peace and calm. Opening his eyes he stood up and stretched. Today was a day to pay respects, he left his little tranquil alcove in the temple and made his way to the assembly room. Many of the Jedi here at the temple were making their way there. Dalaa held his hands behind his back as he walked, he had kept his lightsaber in his personal quarters today. It was not a day to carry an item that had potential to attack. Not at all he thought as he entered the assembly room. He looked upon Oren, the council member in the assembly and then at the other members of the order here. It was a sad day indeed.

Dalaa stood in the room, watching the door and the faces of the other Jedi coming in. Dalaa could almost tell between the ones who had been on Ajan Kloss and those that hadn't. There was an air of sadness. He looked upon Master Tionson who was in a wheel chair and had obviously fought against people recently. Dalaa sighed to himself and looked down. He was waiting for the speech to come, to talk about the sacrifice of his brothers and sisters. To commend those who had joined the force.
 

Izel Thral

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Izel stood on the periphery of the chamber, eyes down and hands crossed in front of her, silent. She could not even bear to look at the others. Not after what she had done. None of it had been her intention. She had thought she was doing her duty as a Jedi, standing up to darkness when everyone else was sitting passively while the galaxy burned. But what had the Guardians accomplished? Their laughable failure on Sullust had done nothing but leave the heart of the Order completely exposed. And as a result they had suffered a grievous blow. The Grandmaster, and so many others, dead. She had been one of Nykoria's most vocal supporters in her efforts to shift the Jedi's philosophy to a more offensive one. She had never been so wrong.

What in the world were they supposed to do now? She was supposed to be a teacher, she was supposed to have answers. She had an apprentice that relied upon her for as much, to guide him on his own path to becoming a Jedi. She had felt she was failing Isen before, but this most recent disaster completely shattered any kind of confidence in her own ability. She was lost. And she felt nothing like a real Jedi.

All she could do was listen, subject herself to the judgement of the Council, hear their words, and beg for their forgiveness. She couldn't replace those that were lost, but she wanted them to know she would try. From this point forward, she would do things their way, and only their way. It was time she admitted she didn't have the answers, and started learning.
 

Hannibal Grayza

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The last few days since his arrival on Yavin 4 had been somehow rather eventful and completely not. Jedi from all over were flying in after Oren's message that the temple on Ajan Kloss had come under attack. Many Jedi hadn't gotten away. Too many. Hannibal couldn't feel them while he was fighting but he'd had plenty of time to piece together and sort through the distant impressions in the meantime.

Oota Boan and Sada-Nau Tin had fallen to the Sith, and that was important, but the young man couldn't help think of the rest as well. Ollie Quin, the young boy who'd come to the Jedi and escaped a life of abject poverty on Nar Shaddaa. Anna Baker, always working on her flying garbage heap of a starfighter and maintaining the Order's ships in her spare time. Crichton, the one who never quite adapted to temple life away from his home that he'd spoken to each time Hannibal had flown in. The loss of each and every Jedi on Ajan Kloss pained him. It would fade in time as he dealt with it, like it always did. But he would never forget them.


May each and every one of you find peace in death

In the meantime there was more to do. Even if everything felt like static and he was tired-so tired, like moving itself was nearly too much effort- he still needed to get to this meeting... thing. He'd slept enough, anyway. He worried about Talak, who had hadn't heard from since, and Trys, and Trys' son Crix. But he couldn't well check on them all in the state he was in, so mild strain only. He was pretty sure the healer would kill him herself if he insisted on flying off into space.

After a healer had changed the bacta bandages wrapping him from the neck down beneath a sleeveless shirt and loose pants, he'd very stubbornly insisted on walking to where what was left of the Council waited. Every step pained him and he walked slowly, but walk he did all the same, some measure of discomfort washed away by the Force and painkillers. He'd accelerated his own healing to some degree, guiding the injuries slowly in the right direction, but it would still take time to properly recover. Knowing better than to bother with the Jedi Master's decision, the healer watching him followed behind along with Ego. Just in case.

Hannibal walked into the assembly area, a bandaged hand lightly touching Max's shoulder on his way past before he found himself a distant chair away from everyone to sink into with a grimace. He fished a cigarra from somewhere and lit it while the healer at his side gave him a sharply disapproving look that turned into resigned eye rolling when he quietly promised to only burn through half of it.

Today was not a good day, but at least he was here for it. He'd had time to think while laying around uselessly in the medbay. He briefly shook his head of the echoes of impressions from the others around, once again trying to refocus the defenses around his thoughts and frowning when he only found partial success. Just another thing to recover from, he supposed.



@TWD26 @Nefieslab
 

Indy Sati

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Even despite the losses of so many lives, including those of the Councilors and the Grandmaster himself, despite the young that perished and the lives of those she counted as friends and brethren... there was hope still. It was bittersweet however, for the Jedi Master. There were those she loved that she nearly lost. People she looked up to, gone, and she was deep in a dig when the message from Master Zapan was broadcast. Upon entering, she gave the Master a grave nod, but no words. There were no need for words right now.

She often felt unworthy of the robes of the Master, but she wore them now. The Pantoran's face was set in a solemn mask. Even here, amongst this place, she felt the weight of her responsibilities pressing into her shoulders. This was why she didn't seek the rank of Master. Why she wished to remain a Knight, why she felt unworthy to the task set before her. But there was one figure that sat within the Gathering that she felt a keen relief to feel.

Tears sparked at the corners of her eyes in the empathetic feelings the fellow Master left in the Force. She slowly crossed the room towards Max. His gaze was drawn towards his arm, and she forced herself to look as well. To well and truly look at what kept him with such feelings.

She lightly rested her hand atop the cast as she stood before Max. Her other hand lightly rested on his shoulder, a moment to look into his eye, tears blinked away.

What he would see would be resolve, clear, brilliant. A fire within her gaze, a certainty.

Their time wasn't over yet.

"Max," she spoke up quietly, lightly pressing her forehead to his. "...I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."

And with that, she would release him.

She wasn't prepared to surrender that easily. They lost a stronghold, certainly, but they weren't dead yet. Far from it, in fact, as so many began to gather here. But seeing Hannibal...

Her throat closed, and she walked towards him slowly, each step measured. The rest of the room dimmed to a static buzz. She had to reach him, had to touch him. Even if it hurt, she had to do it. Seeing him wrapped up that way, so distant and withdrawn, was like a vibroknife to the gut.

When she came close, one blue hand lightly touched his cheek, and she leaned in.

No words needed to be said... but she ignored the healer, pressing a light kiss against his other cheek. Nothing needed to be said, because he would already know. He already knew... and so by his side she would stand, between Max and Hannibal. She could sense so much grief in the room, so much pain. She sucked in a breath, and exhaled steadily, the calm sureness of the Light washing over her and through her as she focused on each new face, each presence.

Another memorial. But this time, it was different.

This time, changes were coming. But there was one more to address... Izel. All in good time.

@Nefieslab @TWD26 @Mr. Teatime
 

Drow Venn

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Drow was taking this about as well as a Jedi could after the events that had transpired. He had once been a mercenary and he was well accustomed to the feeling one gets after a devastating loss on the battlefield. You never quite got used to it but Drow had developed some coping mechanisms over the years.

He had been on Sullust that fateful day, trading fire with the Sith, doing his best to distract them from his ally Talak, and shooting down their ships. He'd even took a shot at the Eternal itself but it hadn't been enough. Not enough to save two esteemed masters from being tossed around like ragdolls by that monstrosity.

But Drow tried not to let it bother him too badly. He'd developed two defensive therapeutic strategies over the years for losses like this; be there for others and plot the next move. He made his way over to @Hannibal Grayza for the first one.

"Let me help you, Master." the Ishi Tin Jedi said to his fellow Sullust survivor, offering his assistance to help Hannibal walk.

"We're alive. That's a victory in and of itself" he told the Master, wanting to put on a brave face to inspire those who had inspired him so frequently. He still found it incredible that he himself was a Jedi Knight, that these people would accept him after all he'd done previously. That fact alone kept him from succumbing to despair.
 

Nykoria Tallis

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Kori's last few nights were sleepless. She had lied down, closed her wept-out eyes, but the brain refused the rest. All she could think about was Ajan Kloss.

So many Padawans and Initiates—some trained by yourself in the basics of lightsaber combat—became one with the Force... No, no sugarcoating it, Kori. They were murdered. And you are partly to blame. Your desire to go down in history, to end the Eternal before it could submerge the entire galaxy into darkness—this is what cost them their lives. It had cost the Order the lives of Grandmaster Oota Boan and Councillor Sada-Nau Tin, along with the entire Jedi Temple. Just think of the Jedi who could've been on Ajan Kloss when it all transpired, if they hadn't joined your so-called "Guardians". Nara, Izel, Hannibal, Max...

The Zeltron tried to bargain with her conscience, to rationalize her decisions.

The timing was too perfect. The Sith must have found out about Ajan Kloss earlier. They would have attacked the Jedi anyway. If they could kill the Grandmaster, it didn't matter where I would have been: fighting the Sith on Sullust, healing people on Nar Shaddaa, or trying to defend the temple. Blame me for Sullust all you like, I learned my lessons there. But Ajan Kloss was not my mistake alone. To avoid it, the entire Order should've gone into seclusion together or spread out across the galaxy. If we are supposed to help the people, the former isn't a good choice.

Besides, the Guardians weren't much different from other Jedi. Councillor Zapan even gave us his blessing. What wrong have we done? We dug out a corvette that, once repaired, might become a mobile home for the Order, quick to respond to crises. We helped the Sector Rangers during the attack on Coruscant and dealt with an outbreak on Nar Shaddaa. We stopped the subjugation of Ryloth. We did fail at Sullust, but that was because we followed our hearts, and not our minds. And nobody could've accounted for the Eternal and Ajan Kloss. Kark it, Talak...

For all intents and purposes, the "Guardians" wasn't a common moniker yet: there was just Master Kori Tallis and a bunch of Jedi who had chosen to stand with her. Even Max, a vocal opponent of Kori's ideas, had been on Sullust, and not on Ajan Kloss! There were dozens of other excuses and explanations. They were helping, but not to the extent the Zeltron hoped they would.

As the graze on her right arm healed, rationalization did partly seal that gaping wound on the young Jedi Master's heart. Still, it was tugging at her, especially as the day of reckoning drew near. If addressed, Kori was prepared to face her errors.

...

Whatever "mental armor" Nykoria had built up was shattered the moment she walked into the assembly room. All that remained was Kori Tallis—a "Master" in title and skill, but evidently not in wisdom. A purple-skinned woman with burns on her face, indigo hair, and a matching dark-blue Jedi robe. Not wounded physically on Sullust, but trying to recover from something else entirely. Guilt. And all the emotions surrounding her.

Amidst the sea sorrow, there were islands of bittersweet reunions; through the dark clouds of defeat, some Jedi still saw glimmers of hope. Even in such commotion, there were always a few beacons Nykoria could reliably sense. Nara Allam and Izel Thral. Nara was nowhere to be seen, and Izel... Kori could sense what was going on in the Vratix mind; a shift in her outlook over the last few days evident. No doubt Izel would sense the Zeltron's thoughts too.

No words needed to be said. Periphery of the chamber was a perfect place. Kori approached her fellow Jedi, only giving her a nod. If Izel wanted to talk, she'd start. Or better yet, it'd have to wait until after the gathering. For now, the Zeltron just observed from the distance. Anticipation of Oren's or Izel's remarks was eating at Nykoria's core like acid.
 
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Alexandria Voran

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Again…again...the galaxy plunged into war. The Jedi flattered at the hands of better coordinated Sith. They were unprepared, un-marshaled, poorly led. This story had played out generation after generation. The Jedi flourished and the Darkness would rise. Would the Jedi find the strength to stand against them or would it be as before?

Alex shouldn’t be here. She wasn’t meant to be here. Her life should have continued as it had. Healing the sick, caring for the poor, and trying to be better than she was. The Jedi Knight would not stand by to watch the Order fail. She knew their history. She knew the defeats of the past. Her ancestors had lived those failure. Alex would be better…stronger. For sixty years she had wandered the galaxy, learning all she could. Her strength in the Force was growing. Alex knew she could not hide.

She had returned from her isolation for only a short time, but the connections she built felt lasting. As Alex shuffled into the chamber her eyes flicked to Master Zappa, Max, Dalaa, Izel, and Master Sati. The Morellian Knight kept to herself. She perhaps knew Oren and Max best, but the wounds in this room ran deep. Far deeper than Alex knew. This was not her place to offer comfort. Having returned, she was still trying to find her place. No. She would leave the kinds words to those who knew their hearts. She did not.

Jedi Knight Alexandria Thayless Voran, placed her back against the wall and let the Force wash over her. Waves of pain radiated in the Force. There was no mistaking the powerful feeling of grief. She nodded. They should feel defeated. They should feel hopeless. This was a failure…one they should have foreseen. The Order was fractured as it once had been. They needed unity now more than ever, but they could not lose the way. They could not become militants obsessed with ending the Sith.

Her eyes surveyed the room. Alex had nearly been brought to her knees when the Force pulsed with the death of the Grandmaster and her fellow Jedi. In that moment, she had found her resolve. She had found the path the Force was setting her on. This was where she was meant to be. This is where she could do the most good. The Force wept as the Darkness advanced. There was only one way to defeat the Dark…find the Light.

 

Elias Ryn

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Elias hadn't been there for Ajan Kloss and when most of the Jedi had attempted to rescue Trys. The results of what happened after both attacks had been catastrophic to the Order and it began to form cracks in its structure. He was already in the assembly room and came quickly when he had received the call as had other Jedi. All ranks walked through the halls and into the room from Councilors, Masters, Knights, and Padawans, the situation requiring all hands on deck. There were familiar faces from Hannibal and Sati to unfamiliar ones that filled the room but he didn't make any effort to call out anyone he recognized and remained where he was.

The room just emanated in sadness and grief and Elias realized the real attack was the psychological effect. Everyone's room in the spirit had been shattered and it felt almost impossible for some to recoup from as many had lost their friends or acquaintances. With the demoralization of the attack, it had affected him too as he had felt the death of their brethren and sisters in the force and it nearly made him faint from the overwhelming heaviness that had filled him. He was spared having been at the attack and suffering first hand from what happened as he only recently became a Knight and it provided some clarity to him as well though. They needed to come back from this stronger, more resolute, and decisive than before. This was a repeating cycle and it required a swift cut to end it.

Elias' emotions constantly wrestled with themselves for his lack of presence at the battles, for how they reacted to what has been placed before them. It was threatening to spill over and his fingers tightened around his sleeve as he exhaled slowly to calm himself. He couldn't let his mind become clouded. They all needed to work together and figure out what steps were necessary next. There was darkness and light would combat it but it had to be burning and pure, enough for the darkness to never return.

The Knight opened his eyes, a new fire lit behind them as he waited for the rest to file in and for the proceedings to begin.
 

Oren Zapan

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As the ranks of Jedi had entered the assembly, the council members that remained would take their places among the round table, Oren included. There was a broken spirit among the Jedi, many blaming themselves for what had happened. Oren felt some himself, but had ultimately decided that it was not productive -- they were all to blame for their hubris, from the council to the masters, they had failed to prepare the order for the dangers of the Sith in full.

The room would remain silent for some time, allowing the group to settle in before Oren began to speak, his eyes opening after a long period of self reflection. "Through my journey I have learned so much of those who make up our order. From the emotions and pain you all deal with, to the journey and missions that has seen your growth."

The Jedi Master would take a deep breath, "But, I have learned so much of the Orders before our own, the Jedi of the past. From the days of Master Wyck and Master Zeerda and the Jedi's fall during the rise of the first Sith. I have found remnants of rebellion from Masters Breaux and Swan -- their fire and passion had helped rebirth hope in this galaxy."

The Jedi would look across the faces of his fellow Jedi, "From the days of the High Republic and the Jedi Crusaders lead by Master Skyell, to the fall of the Republic and the Jedi. From texts of Grand Master Skywalker we learned of his attempts to return the order, and the eventual destruction. From our own first Grand Master's struggles of forming an order -- I have studied it all, considering the questions left before us by our predecessors."

"There is no easy answer to the problem we face, it was the hubris of the council and our masters that had left us vulnerable to the same fate that all of the former Orders had. Those on Sullust are not responsible for Ajan Kloss, how or why the Sith found out does not matter, they would have come for us eventually -- and this a fact that you must learn to accept."


The Jedi Master would place his hands against the table lowering his head for a moment. "We as the council had been too relaxed on our positions, we trained you in the code, left you with your teachings, but it left us vulnerable to attack. I take responsibility for the formation of the Jedi Guardians without proper oversight from the Council." his eyes shifted to Kori and the others that had sought such an idea.

"We learned from the hubris of the Jedi Order of the past, by accepting natural feelings for one and another, to learn to live and love. But there is a difference between love and passion. It has come to my attention that Knight Talak did not return, the operation was of his idea -- to save that of Trys."

Oren thought of his friend, the memories they had on the Ring of Kafrene, and the bond that had been formed by the Jedi and the Rangers, "A Jedi does not crave adventure, or pleasure for the sake of pleasure. It is okay to love, but when the time comes you must learn to let go -- that is why you failed on Sullust."

Oren turned his attention to the Jedi Council members who offered their nods, "There will be much time for reflection, but I'm afraid that the galaxy does not stand idle. We must regroup our efforts and plan our next steps to prevent the Sith from destroying this galaxy."

Oren looked out to the group with a gentle sigh, "The remaining council members have deliberated for the past few days. As you are well aware, Council member Sadu-nau Tin had given her life to defend the temple escape. Her loss is great, but her warmth is among us. The Council has decided that this seat shall be filled by Master Grayza. With his promotion comes the termination of the Jedi Guardian program, Master Tallis and those who wish to focus their efforts in defeating the Sith through combat will report to Master Grayza; starting immediately."

Oren would look to Max, offering him a gentle nod. The Master had trust in his abilities, and even if he was rather eccentric, his heart was pure. "The Council will decide among ourselves who will eventually take the position of grand master, when this is decided we shall appoint a master to take the open position. With that, we open the floor to you all."
 

Isen Ramm

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Isen Ramm had been here throughout, standing a few paces behind his master. He was a quiet teenager on the verge of becoming a man. He was not particularly charismatic or gregarious. If he was anything to most of the others, he was known as Izel's padawan. This wasn't his place to speak or to be heard. He was just a padawan, afterall, and not one with any accomplishments to note. If anything, he would be known for losing an X-wing on Sullust and...well, doing nothing else of import. To that end, he was glad that so few knew his name or knew him at all.

He could feel the dread and sadness in the temple. There was great loss, and Isen couldn't deny that. He felt it. Felt the continuing ripple in the Force from such a loss at the Order both on Sullust and the massive blow dealt to the Jedi on Ajan Kloss while he and others were on Sullust. The losses were profound and they were great. It was not that Isen was uncaring or indifferent, but he was pragmatic, and likely pragmatic to a fault. To be fair, he did not know many who were lost like many of the Jedi Knights and Masters. He was not raised with the padawans and younglings at Ajan Kloss who were slain. He supposed that made it more reasonable that he was more prepared to move forward than many of the others.

"A Jedi does not crave adventure, or pleasure for the sake of pleasure," Master Zapan said. This cut Isen to the quick. He missed the remaining context completely as he considered his own vices and what potential pitfalls awaited him in regards to his own inclinations to jump quickly into combat or danger. And it's a lesson that Izel Thral, his patient and wise master, had been trying to instill in him since he was introduced to her at Ajan Kloss as her padawan some time ago.

And Master Thral....More than anything, Isen worried for his teacher. She internalized every little detail as a mistake. She seemed to take every failure as a misstep on her part and blamed herself for the consequences. Isen felt she treated herself pretty unfairly. Most of the mistakes weren't hers, and he felt that not all failures were missteps. Sometimes, you can't win. You don't get dealt the hand to win, no matter how well you play the cards. Unfortunately, Izel didn't feel that way. Right now, the consequences of the actions, by both the Jedi and the Sith, and quite possibly the will of the Force, were dire for the Order. And those consequences were eating Izel Thral up from the inside out for her part in it all.

But, as Master Zapan continued, it appeared the Guardians may indeed be continuing with newly appointed Jedi Council member Master Grazya leading them. Isen hoped that was the case. He had seen Master Grazya in action both on Onderon and in Sullust, and Isen felt more than comfortable with him leading such a unit. But then, after all that Izel had been through, would his Master even want to continue to be part of this group of "Guardians?" Isen hoped so, for his immediate future was tied to hers.


@Reyn
 

Javelin Kel

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As Master Oren spoke, Javelin gazed at the lightsaber at his side. Not his own, but the one he had recovered from Ajan Kloss. The lightsaber of former council member Sadu-nau Tin. Javelin hadn't known her. Not well, at least. But having her weapon in his possession, he could feel an echo. As if her spirit still spoke. Not with words. Just a feeling.

Hope.

Javelin stepped forward, unclipping the fallen Jedi's lightsaber from his belt. Feeling its cool metal in his hand, he cleared his throat, facing toward the members of the Jedi Council.

"Masters, I was on Ajan Kloss. I witnessed the horrors of the Sith Eternal, and saw Master Sadu-Nau's sacrifice with my own eyes."

Javelin activated the lightsaber, causing a fountain of cyan energy to erupt from its hilt. "This was her lightsaber. I'm only a Padawan, and not deserving of the weapon. But I'd like to return it to you. As a way to remember her by."

Retracting the plasma blade, he placed the metallic hilt on the ground, bowing before the masters, and returning shoulder-to-shoulder with his fellow Jedi.

There was hope. There was always hope.
 

Lian Sheffield

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Sitting outside of the giant temple, Lian had only recently arrived to Yavin 4. He had not spoken to a soul, and did not feel any great desire to do so. Instead, he had spent his time among the wild and untamed forests that dominated the area in which they were gathering. It reminded him of Ajan Kloss, in a way, and of the memories he had made there as a youngling. He would give a lot to return to those days.

Lian was late to arrive at the gathering itself. In truth, he could barely keep track of time and had little recollection of how his past days had been spent before arriving at Yavin 4. He had not forgotten the feeling, though. The feeling of voices being silenced and of lives being extinguished. It was perhaps the clearest memory he had of the past days, though it was certainly one he wished he could forget.

Even attending this gathering was an unusual step for Lian who had so often operated alone among the Outer Rim territories. As he slowly made his way through the halls, passing others of the Order, he had yet to see a face he recognised. They were strangers to him, in truth – and his connection to the Order felt as weak as it ever had. This assembly would change that, or so he hoped.

Arriving at the assembly itself, and hanging around the back of the crowd, he could hear the authoritative voice of a Councillor with the expected platitudes. Lian’s attention was elsewhere as he scanned the room for any sign of his old master, though he was nowhere to be seen. If there was any single person Lian needed, it was Coriic. His old master always had the answers – answers he so desperately needed.

“…and those who wish to focus their efforts in defeating the Sith through combat will report to Master Grayza; starting immediately."

His attention was caught suddenly by the announcement from the Councillor. This was the reason Lian had come. He thought he recognised the name of Master Grayza, though no doubt would come to know the Jedi rather well in the coming days and months.

Lian had operated alone for too long. It was time to change that.
 

Nykoria Tallis

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Master Zapan never ceased to surprise Nykoria. From the first meeting there on Yavin IV, when Oren was much more approachable that Kori would've expected a Councillor to be. To the meeting on Ajan Kloss, where he turned out to share her sentiment about the Sith and what needed to be done. And now on Yavin again, in the assembly room, where he—much to the Zeltron's surprise—was reiterating some of the conclusions she had arrived at.

"It was the hubris of the council and our masters that had left us vulnerable to the same fate that all of the former Orders had."

She listened to the Councillor with a lowered head. There was no denying the hubris, at least on Nykoria's part. There was no denying the lack or planning and organization. And there was no denying that she hadn't been prepared for Sullust or the Eternal. If the Jedi Order was to persevere, all of it had to change.

Because in the end, the Jedi hadn't failed at protecting the galaxy. What they had failed at was protecting themselves. It was a prerequisite that Nykoria had arrogantly forgotten about. There was a responsibility to those whom they had taken up and trained. That had to change.

"Those on Sullust are not responsible for Ajan Kloss, how or why the Sith found out does not matter, they would have come for us eventually—and this a fact that you must learn to accept."

Again, the time and distance from the tragedy had allowed Nykoria to see that point earlier than she would've seen otherwise. But one question remained: was this remark by Master Zapan a consolation to those who blamed themselves for Sullust, or an attempt to save them from being blamed by the others and breaking the Order even further? Perhaps it was both.

"I take responsibility for the formation of the Jedi Guardians without proper oversight from the Council."

Something inside Nykoria twinged, as her cheeks adopted a deeper shade of purple. If those on Sullust weren't responsible, why were they being tied into all this? Of course, most Jedi who were on Sullust were the "Guardians"—a moniker than Kori never thought had been applied broadly already. But there were also Talak, and Max; the latter being anything but a "Guardian". Something didn't add up.

"It is okay to love, but when the time comes you must learn to let go—that is why you failed on Sullust."

The conflict between "love being ok" and "letting go" was still unresolved in Kori's heart. But she had already seen the consequences of attachments. Talak's feelings—passions or pure love, it mattered not—had brought many Jedi to Sullust, and coincided with Ajan Kloss. Could Nykoria truly blame him? What if her own family had been taken by the Sith? She probably would've done everything in her power and risked her own life to save them. A Jedi's life was sacrifice, after all.

But sacrifice wasn't a thing to be trifled with. It had to remain the last solution. Kori already had some thoughts on her own attachments and how to address them. When she'd next come to Coruscant, the wheels would be set in motion.

"As you are well aware, Council member Sadu-nau Tin had given her life to defend the temple escape. Her loss is great, but her warmth is among us. The Council has decided that this seat shall be filled by Master Grayza."

Now that was great news! Hannibal had sided with Nykoria in the past, and was probably the most experienced Jedi when it came to facing the Sith. He had slain Champion Sol Puara and become a Master before Kori was even knighted. On Sullust, he had been the only Jedi who had some sort of plan.

A corner of Kori's lips curled up as she remembered Hannibal's grand entrance on Sullust. In hindsight, sending a freighter full of explosives to a Sith facility was too extreme; especially since not only the Sith were there. But it was better than anything Nykoria or anyone else had brought to the table.

Of all the remaining Jedi, Hans and Max were the best choices to fill the void left by the death of two members of the Council. Sure, Hans had that annoyingly-arrogant air around him at times. But then it all suddenly became irrelevant...

"With his promotion comes the termination of the Jedi Guardian program, Master Tallis and those who wish to focus their efforts in defeating the Sith through combat will report to Master Grayza; starting immediately."

It was there and then when Kori realized why the Jedi trained so hard to subdue their own emotions. The training came handy when one needed to suppress a loud gasp or expletive. The Zeltron's face remained still, yet she met the news with a weird mixture of relief and indignant disappointment. Relief because of the load of responsibility that had just been shifted over to Hannibal's shoulders. But disappointment was a more complicated matter.

For all his talk about not blaming those from Sullust, Oren had let the his true opinion—or at least what Nykoria perceived as truth—slip between the lines. And in Kori's mind it sounded like: "I may have said all of the above, but you still karked up, Nykoria. Yes, you in particular." It wasn't about the seat on the Council—Kori knew Hannibal was her better in more ways than one. It wasn't even about being the leader of the Guardians—if Hannibal ascended to the Council in that capacity, it would be logical for him to take over.

What it was about were the mixed signals. First Oren said that those on Sullust weren't to blame. Then implied that the Guardians were. As if they were some evil or a failure that needed rooting out. Then he promoted Hannibal—a Guardian who had been on Sullust—and effectively disbanded the Guardians. All in a matter of minutes, and in front of all the remaining Jedi. How was Nykoria supposed to react to that?

She reacted as a Jedi Master would: with silence, trying to rationalize it; to catalogue and sort out her feelings on the matter, and separate them from the thoughts. Her hubris had been burnt to the ground by the Eternal on Sullust. Izel Thral, Kori's best friend, literally danced on those ashes with the way she was bashing herself for following the Zeltron. And now Councillor Oren Zapan scattered those ashes for all the Jedi to see. The remaining pride was a bitter pill to swallow—amplified further by the presence of other Jedi—yet the bitterness drowned in the sorrow that the Order was going through.

That is why Nykoria simply remained silent. Someone else could make speeches. Maybe Hans—no, the newly-appointed Councillor Grayza—had something to say. It would be fitting. Perhaps he would go for an in-depth explanation why the Order—no, the Guardians—failed, and what could be done about it. Kori though? She'd just listen. If anything, Sullust had taught her to think her words and actions through. And solitude was an old friend.
 
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Talak Rand

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He hadn't been heard from since the disaster at Sullust, and there was a great deal that still needed to be sorted out within his mind. He'd ensured Trys was safe and being cared for by the best in the medical community before making the trip here. He arrived in the survival suit he occasionally wore, the same helmet which he'd been wearing at Sullust with both sabers he'd used at Sullust clipped to his belt at the four and eight positions.

He wasn't sure coming here was a good idea, and he wasn't even sure the Jedi Order was where he should remain any longer, but if there was responsibility to be taken for the actions that had happened, he wouldn't cower from it even if it was the last thing he did as a Jedi. He owed those who had fought on Sullust at least that much, and now, with the revelation that Ajan Kloss had been sacked it only further called into question his remaining in the Order.

He arrived in time to hear what Oren said, including the condemnation of his own actions and the announcement about Hannibal taking over operations against the Sith. He knew his friend wouldn't be thrilled about such an appointment, but he hoped that it would mean some more engagement of the Jedi in this war.

He made no attempt to move forward, having no real interest in drawing attention to himself, but leaned against the doorway to the meeting room as he listened. His mind began to wander to all that had happened, and he knew he needed to return to Ajan Kloss. He had heard about Ender's death, and the fact that it almost stung more than the Jedi's death was... probably backwards. And yet this was his legacy: dead friends and those who had died at their hands. He was skilled enough to shield the distress he felt from those outside, but there was no question within him that it was there, always creeping with the darkness.

He shut the thought down as he turned his attention back to the proceedings. If he were fortunate, they wouldn't last much longer and his own presence would be all but overlooked by the others.
 

Hannibal Grayza

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Hannibal stiffly waved off the offer of assistance from @Drow Venn , continuing his stubborn insistence on walking on his own. If he could do it, he would. Pain was only an illusion anyway. Plus if he accepted help the healer would probably get back to bugging him about using a damn wheelchair again and the young Jedi just wasn't about that life. He appreciated the sentiment behind it, though, and offered a small nod in thanks nontheless.

@Indy Sati came over to Max and himself, offering comfort and a determined presence. Hannibal's bandaged left hand came up and gently lay across hers on his face and he leaned slightly into the soft touch of her lips, then returned his vague attention to the meeting as she arranged herself. Her presence was comforting, as usual, but what had affected Hannibal on Sullust wasn't something she could help with. But at least she was here.

Oren said some words. He had a good point, of course. The Jedi should be at least in part taking the fight to the Sith, but swinging punches without one's guard up was a terrible plan at the best of times. Most of the Order didn't stay at the Temple and the Sith would have attacked eventually. It's not like the Jedi could just sit in their temple and wait for the Sith to show up while they burned half the galaxy down. The Jedi needed a plan.

The young Jedi took another drag of his cigarette, idly watching it wheel through the air as Oren spoke in the background. He was listening as much as he ever did, but staring as someone else spoke wasn't really his thing. Hannibal considered other thoughts while the Councilor spoke, future plans, what to do next, how to handle certain things, where the hell Talak was, wher-

"The Council has decided that this seat shall be filled by Master Grayza."

He froze mid-inhale then, slowly, moved to look up at the gathering of remaining Councilors, exhaling the cloud of smoke he'd been gathering.

"... Pardon?" he asked no one in particular, quietly and mostly to himself. That wasn't a move he'd expected. It wasn't something he sought out or wanted, either. It was almost ironic, actually, picking Hannibal of all people. Oren would know why. But he also supposed that same reasoning is why the young Master had been the choice. For a few brief moments he even considered declining the appointment. But he brushed off those thoughts in the end. A Jedi's life is sacrifice, after all, and Hannibal would always fight so that others wouldn't have to. He put out his cigarra in the portable ashtray on his belt and sighed.

Hannibal frowned slightly and turned his eyes to Oren, giving him a knowing look as he mentioned shutting down the Guardian program and having people report to him. Doubtless Kori wasn't going to be pleased about at least half of that, one way or another. He then began to sit up straight in his chair. Maximum effort.

Hannibal took a deep breath and stood from his seat, the Force flowing into and through him as he moved. He stood in defiance of the pain across his body, stood tall and determined, face set firmly in place. Wouldn't be himself if he let a little lightning and absolute darkness break him down, now would he? Yeah, let's go with that.

He bowed, just a little considering he wanted to avoid worsening the injury across his ribs.

"I'm no replacement for Sada-Nau, but I accept the appointment of the Council. I'll get started right away," he said, clear and strong, then sank back into his chair with another grimace. Immediately the healer was on him again, whisper-yelling about pushing himself through injuries. Hannibal lost focus on her, however, because something else drew his attention. His head turned toward the back of the chamber, not full on, the new focus only in the corner of his vision.

@Talak Rand was here. That meant he wasn't dead, which is good. Hannibal also felt something distinctly familiar about him, something he'd hunted when he was still a Knight. That wasn't good. But he was still here, still trying. Hannibal sent him a ping in greeting, just to let him know he'd been noticed and there would be words. Again. He was pretty sure he still had a bottle or three of that green stuff somewhere. Maybe due to be drunk, maybe introduced upside Talak's stupid face. He hadn't decided yet.


@TWD26 @Nefieslab @Killa Ree @Phoenix
 

Dalaa Ta

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Dalaa Ta

Dalaa listened to Oren's speech. His head bowed in reverence to those who died on Ajan Kloss, to those who died during the attack on Sullust. Dalaa agreed with some of the statements made by Oren. The Jedi could sometimes be hubris that was a fact. Thinking that they were safe from the Sith would be wrong. History has proven that the Jedi will never be free or safe from the Sith. Even if they were destroyed sometime soon, they would eventually return. Master Grayza had been appointed to the council. He didn't know much about this master, but he could see that he was a brave man. Evident in his injuries that he had fought recently.
"Those who wish to focus their efforts in defeating the Sith through combat will report to Master Grayza; starting immediately."

These words rang through Dalaa's mind. He had never fought a Sith, never even met one in fact and he had only been a Knight for a short time. Although he was a peaceful man, he knew that the Sith would not stop attacking the Jedi. The Jedi must be defended from the Sith at all costs. There could not be another Ajan Kloss. The Togrutan closed his eyes. He was a Knight, it was his duty to protect younglings, Padawan and the galaxy from the menace of the Sith. It was Dalaa's time to report to Master Grayza immediately. What was the point of his training if he could not put it to good use? Dalaa had spent many hours practicing in his time as a padwan, many hours practicing since becoming a Knight. Now was the time to use his abilities. To use them for good, for the protection of his brothers and sisters in the order. He opened them again to a young padawan handing the lightsaber of Master Sau-Nau to the council. They would know the best way to respect her memory.
 

Elias Ryn

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Elias remained where he was, his feet planted to the ground as Oren began first speaking. He explained how it wasn't their fault and that they shouldn't drag themselves down from the failures of what happened. It was a mix of the truth and a lie. It wasn't just the council but all of them who had the responsibility fall to their feet. With the explanation of what happened, it was followed with the promotion of Hannibal Grayza. The two Jedi have met only a few times but he already knew that the Jedi Master was a great choice and would be acclimated to the role quickly, once he fully healed.

Hannibal stood up as his pain radiated through the force to accept his nomination and even though he didn't peek Elias' way, he gave the master a general nod of congratulations. With that finished, the floor was open to the Jedi but none spoke at first as they tumbled over the words of the Councilor. Elias glanced around for a second before he finally stepped forward and into the open to speak if no one else did, "I'll go ahead and start. I believe we should hold a memorial for those who have fallen or still haven't returned to give closure to those still affected. Give everyone a chance to say their final goodbye to those they miss or care for and let us be able to put this behind us." Elias had been spared the pain of having someone he knew perish but others weren't so lucky. But if the Order was to survive, they couldn't be held back by the past; they needed to be propelled by it.

"But after that, if it does take place, I do agree with Councilor Zapan. We have to refocus our efforts and come together as a single force. The Sith have made examples of us for the galaxy and amongst themselves and we can't just keep accepting it. Our enemy is much smaller than us and affords them a flexibility that we simply can't match." Elias paused for a moment, letting his words hit each Jedi and offer them a chance to counter if they didn't agree. "Because of that, we need to prioritize in my opinion, focus on the planets together that can provide strategic assets for us to utilize. Shipyards, and mines to build our own power base and limit the Sith's. It will only be a matter of time before this is open war. We have to be able to protect ourselves before we can claim that for other people or that will constantly be thrown in our face."

The Jedi Knight paused for a moment, wondering how to word this, "It can be considered a sort of aggressive defense. We build our own ships and defenses to the point where another attack can't happen as easily and be able to lash out on the offensive when needed. Despite what happened, It also means we should continue our work with the FWA, help legitimize us to the rest of the galaxy. Relief missions should be sent to the planets that still need it during this with the FWA's assistance. As of now, the Jedi have no difference compared to the Sith except that we have opposite colored weapons and we disarm people with a smile instead of just openly killing them. Apparently, the galaxy is more comfortable with that as well." He remembered when he and Oren had traveled to Rusan, only for the officer to throw them in the same boat as the Sith. There was more for him to say but he didn't want to take the whole floor the entire time and when he was finished, he took a small step back to allow someone else to speak.

Elias then directed his gaze over to Hannibal and gave him another nod, this one being a silent confirmation that he was one of the Jedi who would love to actually take the fight to the Sith.

@TWD26 @Mr. Teatime @all other Jedi in the room
 

Maxims Tionson

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Max listened to Oren and he gave both Hans and Indy a small smile when they made to give him their support because, honestly, he did appreciate it. He wasn't in the best sort of mood to really be up to his old level of smiles and conversation but it was a start, a step made in the right direction despite the weight that was the guilt and the other emotions that pressed against him. Acting like a barrier to his recovery, something he needed to overcome aside from the physical.

Hans being made a member of the Council seemed to surprise Hannibal more than anyone else. He laughed a little bit at Hans' little vocal expression of disbelieve before making a shooing motion at his friend with his left hand.

"Off to give your acceptance speech Councillor Grayza."
he teased his friend, managing a small smirk, "Don't forget us little people, alright?"

He figured Hans would appreciate it if he let himself show a bit of the humor that the younger made had helped him show more of. His friend deserved to be a member of the Council, even if no one was happy with the 'how' part of his ascension. Still, he mimed a clap at his friend as he accepted the appointment.

There was never a doubt in his mind that Hannibal would become a member of the Council; the only doubt had been whether or not his friend would accept it when offered. If he would have thought himself ready for the position and all that it entailed. That it entailed holding the leash on the Guardians was... something that brought up a lot of emotions within Max that he had to focus to not let bleed out into the Force.

His opinions on Kori's pet project had been clear before Sullust and they had not changed for the better.

Sensing someone else at the edge of the crowd, a presence he was familiar with, Max stiffened ever so slightly in the wheelchair the healer had insisted upon. Without drawing attention to the other man, Max fished out his com link and sent Talak a message to meet him in one of the side hangers when he could slip away. Max himself then immediately rose from his wheelchair, ignoring the indignant requests of his healer to remain seated.

Bowing his head to Oren, he did the same to Hannibal before turning and leaving, glad to be able to leave the mandated wheelchair behind even if he did have something else to attend to.


/Exit Thread

@Killa Ree @TWD26 @Mr. Teatime @Phoenix @Catbert
 
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