The Dark Side of the Moon

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The Dark Side of the Moon .
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Mar Kesyk, Alara Skyell .​

Jedi Base of Operations

Hutt (Jedi) Space - Nar Shaddaa

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Mar Kesyk had returned to Nad Shaddaa for the nth time this year. In spite of having aligned itself with the Order, Hutt influence was not easily dealt with and, as such, the place largely remained a den for corruption, spice and just about every colour on the spectrum of sin. Not to mention, after the tragic death of Grandmaster Pelora, the abstruse sixth sense of criminals appeared to have caught a whiff something they perceived as weakness in the Order. Consequently, these people then chose to throw caution to the wind and grow bolder and more violent. The rate of crime had skyrocketed, in recent times.

For a Knight tasked with capturing escaped criminals, the increased crime rate meant this place - the planet of his birth - was shaping up to become a second home...

'How terrible' the masked Jedi told himself. The longer he spent here, the more thankful he was for the thick robes and helmet covering his skin: in his eyes, this planet looked like a pus-filled wound. And this was not a metaphor. Nar Shaddaa legitimately felt like it was covered in a world of noxious bacteria that would prove both disgusting and harmful. But, the Order always came first. His task was one that needed to be done, and who would Mar Kesyk be if he simply left this problem for someone else to handle? Regardless of his personal opinion, the job would be carried out to the best of his ability.

So, with hands firmly placed inside of his pockets, the man courageously placed one foot in front of the other, and passed through one filthy street after the next, headed towards one of the few clean locations of the system to look for his next gig. The Order's base of operations.

.... ... ....​

It was rumoured that the newly appointed Grandmaster would make an appearance on this day. In Kesyk's eyes, this felt like a show of strength. A display that would hopefully deter these lawbreakers from actions that would cost both themselves and the Order. Should his hypothesis prove right, then this man could not be more thankful... Were it not for his unwillingness to come into needless contact with the ground beneath his feet, Mar would most definitely be walking with a spring in his step: Any peaceful measures that would limit the underworld and keep him away from this blasted system sounded like a gift from the Force.

Kesyk had never met Grandmaster Pelora. Quite frankly, he'd never even been particularly intrigued. In his mind, his 'self' simply did not thirst for recognition. From what he had heard, Pelora had accomplished great things, and this knowledge was enough.

Truthfully, the actual reason behind his lack of interest in garnering the appreciation of the Order's higher ups had more to do with ego than anything: Kesyk was a man who lived inside of his own head. One who was far too concerned with striving to be the best version of himself in each and every day to invest enough time into the possibility that his own ideas might actually serve towards the betterment of society. He had spent his life believing that those around him had surely reached similar conclusions to his own or, at least, answered similar questions. As such, who would want answers from someone like himself, who struggled so to find them? Especially when they could simply go to those who had it easier.

As he finally entered the building in question, Mar had made a realisation. Despite being new to the position, the Grandmaster - were she to be present - might just be able to shed some of the Force's Light on the many issues that kept him up at night.

Blissfully ignorant to woes other than his own, this overqualified Bounty Hunter calmly approached the area he had been directed towards, hoping to catch a glimpse of the wisdom that - in his rural eyes - only the Leader of the Jedi Council could wield, his mind no doubt brimming with unreasonable expectations of an encounter with what could best be described as a God.

​

@Valen Pelora

 

[Valen Pelora]

Nar Shaddaa stank. There was a constant fume that hung in the air, invading your lungs. The Force writhed with the infection of corruption. The Jedi and the Hutt were allies. The Order policed Nar Shaddaa but it was hardly a bastion of the Light. An insidious streak ran through the planet, poisoning the Force. It had not stopped the Jedi from trying to bring lawfulness. They had experienced some success before Grandmaster Pelora had fallen. His death had emboldened the scum of the underworld. The Order could not afford to suffer instability at such a crucial juncture. They had to show strength, they had to maintain order.

Newly minted Grandmaster Alara Voren Skyell stared at the bustling streets of Nar Shaddaa. She wore plain Jedi robes, and her unique armor. Her helmet and Lightsabers clipped loosely to her belt. Her attire was fairly unassuming but there was no mistaking the Grandmaster. The Force roared through her, the Light cascading off her body. Of course, there were the ever present incredibly annoying guards. The Jedi Order’s base of operations on Nar Shaddaa was a nondescript building. An adequate hub for the Order’s crime fighting. A frown creased her beautiful features. She turned to face the arbiters of their operations on Nar Shaddaa.

“I am disappointed, Masters.” The scorn in her voice was palpable. “The galaxy needs our strength more than ever, yet you hide behind these walls.” Her eyes swept across the assembled Jedi leaders on Nar Shadda. She raised a hand the quell any response. “I know Valen’s death has emboldened the scum swirling at the bottom of the barrel. I know we are being targeted. I also know I do not care. Our lives are all we have to give until the Empire has fallen. That means maintaining order at home. We will restore order. I will restore order. Understood?” She received a handful of nods. Alara would lead the parties herself if necessary. @Cross

 

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Largely an individual that kept to himself and retrieved escaped criminals of the Knight pay-grade, Kesyk's encounters with powerful people were few and far between. As such, even before the man himself had stepped into the directed location, the hairs on his skin had begun to stand on end. Clearly, there was a gathering of incredible Jedi on the other side of the door, but there was one light that clearly shone brighter than all others. All Jedi felt special in some way or another, for they had all been chosen by the Force, but this? This was something else entirely. It was as though the Force would part the skies with a wave of this princess's hand... a blinding Sun, amidst flickering flames. When the doors parted before him, his eyes immediately scoured the room and, the minute he'd made contact, it felt as though the atmosphere itself was quaking. This being was surrounded by what appeared to be a curtain of heat haze, where the air was sinuously bent, as if the woman behind it were a mirage.

It suddenly became clear why leigh-people worshipped the Jedi. The Grandmaster, that looked to be a young woman with a fairly small frame, felt like a mountain. One so tall the peak could not even be seen, a vision that clashed with the stature of her vessel. It was as though she was the Emissary of the Force itself, not merely one of its students.

The illusionary curtain dissolved from view. It had lasted only an instant, leading the Knight to wonder whether it had ever existed to begin with, but Kesyk felt his incessant thoughts stop. His mind was filled with complete silence, for the first time in what felt like forever... perhaps the actual first time in his life. There was no rationalisation to be made, no considerations, no theories. Mar had simply found himself in the moment, as opposed to studying it.

This state of Nirvana seemed to last a lifetime, until the Princess herself continued with her speech, and the cycle was completed. She who had given it, had taken it away. “I am disappointed, Masters.” - Alara stated, the emotion in her voice missed by Kesyk who was still, at this point, returning his proverbial feet to the ground.

But as the sentences rolled off of her tongue and this ethereal status was dispelled, the Knight could not help but wonder about the content of her message. 'This is it?', he asked himself in his mind 'We shorten the leash?'. The many mental barriers, conscious or otherwise that typically restrained Mar - often too much for his own good - had been dispelled by the awe-filled surprise he'd just experienced and there had simply not been enough time to rebuild them. Serenity had, if only for a moment, not been the reigning state in this man's mind. With it lacking, the shock had turned into confusion and, without even being aware of it, words had simply blurted out of his mouth:

"But what happens after the Empire falls?", he inquired. His speech had not been loud, but the room was filled with people with incredibly keen senses and had been in silence. After all, none in their right mind would ever think to follow a Grandmaster's declaration of strength... right? That would be nothing short of idiotic. Which was exactly what the Knight told himself, if only a beat too late.

The stares he'd garnered felt like holes being bored into his skin. All that Kesyk wanted to do at this point was crawl into a hole and disappear. Sadly, he would not be given that chance. His words, which had only registered in his own mind much too late, could easily be interpreted as forms of insult and insubordination, neither of which the Order would ever dream of playing ball with. He had one chance to explain himself, or might end up facing serious issues in the future, near or otherwise. This was sink or swim.

"Grandmaster, Masters, I am immensely sorry for my rudeness just now." Were he Sith, this would be the time to grovel, his self-conscious mind told him. As was expected, the brain that had gotten him into this situation, was not particularly helpful when it came to getting him out of it. But there was simply no time to dwell on these things.

"I believe I speak for everyone in this room when I say we are willing to lay down our lives for the Order and its cause. And I believe we are aware of what will happen should we be defeated by the Empire." the introduction had been done. These next few words were the ones that might just end up deciding his fate.

"But what happens after we defeat the Sith hordes? There will be a Galaxy to be managed. One that will be looking to us, who overthrew its current leaders, for guidance. And at that moment, can we afford to be seen as intolerant? To be regarded as people who will crack down on the small and less powerful when our backs are pushed against the wall?..." - for the first time in years, Mar Kesyk had been voicing his inner doubts. The things that had kept him up nights, the thoughts that weighed him down daily. It had felt liberating. So liberating in fact, that he had once more been taken in by the atmosphere and say something he'd regret immediately... again.

"... Will that not liken us to the very Sith we seek to eradicate?" - the situation had ended with things, once again coming full circle. A cycle had once again been completed. Except this time, there was no more time or explaining to be done. His brain had finally fried it seemed, and left him capable of saying little more than "I-I... I am sorry. I have no excuse."

At this point, grovelling was starting to sound more and more like one hell of an idea.
@Valen Pelora

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[Valen Pelora]

Alara had never been a very good diplomat. She possessed little of her people’s natural political cunning. She was better with a fist than a clever word. She had not been chosen as Grandmaster for her strong desire to pursue a diplomatic end to the war. She had been chosen to smash the Empire. She was one the best for this particular task. Alara did not care what happened after the Sith were gone. She had one singular goal, it was all she cared about. Frankly, she was not used to being questioned.

On the battlefield, her orders went unchallenged. As Grandmaster, she was unopposed. The Council existed, and she was first among equals, but the truth was far different. She was the final decision maker in war. Her authority was unquestioned. She liked it that way. Alara did not deal well with snarky Jedi. She had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes. It would be unpolite to undress the randomly speaking Jedi. She did not know him but that was not surprising. There were too many Jedi Knights for her to know every face. Her expression was cold, unmoving. Her aura an icy disappointment. Her tone was measured when she spoke. The Jedi watching prevented her from expressing her true thoughts.

“What happens after the war does not much matter if we cannot get there.” She had heard this complaint a hundred times. It did not matter if they all were dead. “The Empire will kill us all and we will never have the chance to find out what happens after the war. The only thing that matters is defeating the Empire. The only thing.” Her eyes snapped on the intruding Jedi. “We can have the luxury of examining what we have become after we have won.” Alara knew the truth. She would fade from the Order when the war was over. She would do whatever it took to win. @Cross