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Thread: Shadows of the Republic: The Beginning of the End

  1. #21
    Taman Danar
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    A hundred and seventy-six dead... and an army of cloned soldiers - so that was why Mistress Nu had sent her up here! It was absolutely unbelievable!

    To Taman, who was usually already feeling out of place whenever she left the relative sanctuary of her office within the temple library, the world turned upside down. For the first time in a long time she felt afraid. Not because of being amongst so many true Jedi, but because she could feel an inkling of the confusion in their minds, and she had never felt anything like that coming from them. They were always so strong before, so capable, so undeterrable from their creed and traditions. She might only be a lowly member of the Corps, but she had not been without some training; the Force was still a part of her and she could feel their emotions.

    And that was the real trouble. There was so much emotion suddenly. Fear. Confusion. Chaos. She couldn't handle it. As silently as she had come she escaped from the large hall again, and hurried down the now deserted hallways, back to the library. Her heart was beating so loudly she felt it like a loud drum in her ears.

    Jocasta Nu, the head librarian of the Jedi temple, was already waiting for her in the doorway. The look on her face said enough: she already knew. After a second of indecision, Taman threw herself at the old woman who held her arms open to her, and who patted the back of her head when she whispered against her shoulder in a choked voice, "So many died. So many! And they fear...", and who replied with a voice full of emotion, "I know, I know..."

    For a long time, they just stood like that, the young woman, and the old, taking comfort in each other's presence.

  2. #22
    Nadii
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    The Jedi Temple was a place of sanctuary.

    Nadii was never at the Temple.

    She was a free soul. Nadii never was at any place too long. The galaxy was alive and she claimed it with every step. All she abided by was the Force. Every moment brought a new feeling, and her mystic nature used it as a guide. Very few times did the moment call for Nadii to be near Coruscant. The bustle of the galactic centre was too much, and too useless. However, on this day – this faithful day – Nadii found her way back to the temple for the first time in many years.

    It had been a long time since she smelt the old curtains, felt the warmth, tasted the light air, and saw so few faces of joy in the Temple. The picture was almost identical to the day she was granted her first and only Padawan so long ago. An’ya Kuro, or Dark Woman to most, took her from the fate of Jedi Service Corps and into the clutches of tutelage. Such a happening was against tradition. Whenever an assignment was set there was no room for intrusion.

    Yet, what could the Council say?

    An’ya Kuro was a blessed child, and deserved a master that matched. She was a child all her own, and it only made sense for her Master to be the same. Nadii was renown as a mysterious Master of the Force, and Jedi Order. So much time had separated her from that faithful day, but it felt familiar in this instance. Certainly her old Padawan had not returned, but another disturbance had come to pitfall all the Order. Something far more vile, far more serious, and far more dire, it was war.



    Despite the news, Nadii still pranced the hallways in all her youthful spirit. She was much older than they had last seen her, but who could tell? She had the same beautiful face, the same beautiful eyes, and the same beautiful smile, the same everything – and it didn’t seem like anything could ruin that. Definitely was apparent as she tight-roped the book-cases, lightsaber dangling at her waist, searching for that holovid on the recent events.

    Nobody was around, so she took it upon herself to get someone to come over. A little yell was all that was necessary, of course.

    “HEY!! I NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!”
    Last edited by Nadii; Sep 17th, 2008 at 06:30:52 PM.

  3. #23
    Mandan Hidatsa
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    The landing pad was deserted. No surprise there, Mandan supposed: an assembly had been called, so of course everyone would be there. Gently peeling away the band of metal pressed against his face, he settled the headset atop the forward console, and triggered the switch that would pop the canopy of his Jedi Starfighter.

    He was late, but that was of no consequence: not today. He already knew what was being announced in the great hall. One of the Masters had been kind enough to inform him of the fate of his former teacher: slain by the Confederacy on Geonosis. He allowed himself a moment to consider the significance: mere weeks ago he had completed the trials, and had been elevated to the status of Jedi Knight. Had he not been across the galaxy on an assignment of his own, he too would have been among those who fought on Geonosis.

    A stab of frustration tightened his chest. If only he'd been there...

    No. That wasn't true. Master had always said that his pride would be his undoing. Over the years, he'd managed to curb it, tame it into little more than a healthy level of self-confidence, but at times it got the best of him. He needed to heed the Living Force: be mindful of what was going on around him; aware of the consequences of his actions, and of his thoughts. Pride was the first step on a dark path. He wouldn't let it take him.

    Climbing free of the Fighter, he allowed himself a moment to straighten his robes, and made sure his lightsaber was secure on his belt. A calming breath flowed through his nose. While he knew the news that was being revealed to the Jedi today, he didn't know what more would be revealed. How would the Jedi respond to Count Dooku's new threats? What role would the Jedi fill in this new war? And what of this mysterious clone army?

    Walking calmly but swiftly through the temple, Mandan reached out with his mind and gently touched the minds of the Jedi present, using their strong auras to guide him towards the gathering. Though he'd spent most of his life within these walls, he'd never managed to learn his way around the maze of corridors without getting lost.

    A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he ascended the steps into the chamber, moving silently so his late arrival wouldn't be noticed. I really do need to learn to be mindful of my surroundings, don't I?

    Eyes and mind both scanning the gathered crowd, his attention settled upon Ilias. Of all the complaints Mandan could make about his old friend, at least he was easy to spot in a crowd. Stepping up to the statue beneath which Ilias had positioned himself, he dropped his voice into little more than a low whisper, touching the other Jedi on the arm. "Hey."

  4. #24
    Istina Chriferre
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    The Star Destroyer scared her, to tell the truth, on a level too deep for her to comprehend.

    Istina was having a hard time understanding how it was she was standing in front of the View-port, watching the stars float so peacefully in the blackness of space. She didn't want to understand, to tell the truth; continuing in the charade would keep her from feeling the broken Force Bond that existed in her consciousness.

    The other padawans ignored her like she ignored them; all of them were shocked, even if they hadn't lost their masters, at the cold mechanical way so many bright lights were darkened in the Arena.

    It was all a blur to her, the landing, the fighting, the flying, and more fighting...

    She cast a single glance down at her lightsabre, hanging from her belt next to her master's lightsabre; she felt tears sting at her eyes. She let them gather, and fall down her face.

    "Tears, padawan?" came a kindly old voice. "Many desiring to weep, I see. Yet among them the only one doing so, are you."

    "Master Yoda," she murmured. "My Master said that tears are a special form of meditation. They are designed to wash away pain when one has the right mindset."

    Yoda looked at her discerningly. "Wise, was your master. His name, padawan?"

    "I-Irkhaniel Feskin, Master Yoda."

    Yoda nodded. "Aware I am of Master Feskin's thoughts on this matter. Fond of listening was he, only speaking when asked of his opinion. Not very often was it asked, unfortunately. But, not accepted his death have you."

    Istina bowed her head, waiting for him to continue to scold her. However, he was called away to make contact with the Jedi Temple. With a sad shake of his head, he floated away, ruminating on the effect this battle would have on the future of the Order.

  5. #25
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    Ilias Nytrau's Avatar
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    "Hey."

    Though he and Mandan were of a similar age, one far outstripped the other in ability. The other was a little higher, however, in the echelons of trust. Both knew well enough which one each of these statements applied to. Both knew also, in one case, that it probably wasn't fair. But what could one do? The council would not be swayed. One had secrets, for sure. This one, this healer - he did. This warrior, this one with mastery beyond that which his rank would indicate. Ilias had done nothing personally to earn the wariness of the council, but he knew that there was likely nothing he could do to make them see otherwise. They had their reasons; reasons they both know....reasons that put them at an unspoken impasse.

    When Mandan touched him, Ilias froze a second - he hadn't been expecting it. The words of the council had commanded his attention quite well, and it had fed a growing concern into his soul. This was a thing that may very well take many more lives of the ones that he had communed with daily, his entire life. After the few seconds of this strangeness, Ilias managed a small smile and turned his head to look on his longtime friend. Almost like brothers they had been, for so long.

    "My friend, my brother." He took Mandan's hand and clasped it with both of his, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "My condolences to you for your master." He paused.

    "Your journey...how was it?"

  6. #26
    Mandan Hidatsa
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    Mandan allowed his remorse to surface for a few moments. The Masters told him that such emotions could easily lead to the dark side - after all, what is sorrow but a product of the fear and regret of loss? - and that he should learn to keep them in check lest they overwhelm him, but Mandan couldn't bring himself to brush his mentor aside so easily. It seemed wrong to dishonour his memory. Still, perhaps here wasn't the best of places to express them.

    Forcing a blanket of calm over his minds and emotions, he shot a slight smile to Ilias before stepping beside him, eyes on the Masters and their announcements. "You know how I feel about those Jedi Starfighters of ours," Mandan said lightly, greatful that Ilias had deflected the topic so gently. "Not enough room to swing a gundark, no one to spar with, and nothing for conversation except one of those infernal droid machines."

    The lightness in his voice shifted slightly, his thoughts turning to Ilias. For the first time, he considered himself lucky. While Mandan had a focus for his anguish, Ilias had no such luxury. Mandan could tell himself that his presence could have made the difference between the life and death of his Master, but he could also comfort himself in the knowledge that there was no way he could blame himself: Jedi business had taken him to the wrong part of the galaxy at the wrong time. But here was Ilias, forced to hear about the deaths of so many, and stuck with the knowledge that he was only prevented from helping because the Council failed to trust him.

    He shot his friend the briefest of glances. "How are you holding up?"

  7. #27
    Serena
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    The large room was in an uproar. Well, as much of an uproar as a large gathering of concerned Jedi could make. It rumbled with low voices and movement. Serena gathered in her little flock of younglings, promising them answers to their questions once they got back to their training room.

    A'na was trying to get the attention of young Avesca, a youngling on the brink of being assigned to a Jedi for padawan training. Just as Serena herself was a padawan on the brink of being knighted. Her master, a Jedi diplomat, was currently assigned to the senate, and on his off days she taught a youngling class. To further teach her patience, he said.

    Ilias was distracted by another friend, someone Serena did not know, and as the children gathered around her she felt a wave of sadness. The war had started. Jedi had been slaughtered, despite their talents and the Force, overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

    Count Dooku had betrayed them all.

    Serena rocked back on her heels slightly, then focused, took a deep breath, and started herding her younglings through the crowd. The Council was still on the main dias, fielding questions from senior Jedi.

  8. #28
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    Ilias considered the words of his old friend; Indeed, those Jedi Starfighters were not preferable to any number of other craft, but it was what they had to work with. That did not mean they had to like it. He smiled a little in agreement.

    "Well enough."

    And that was the truth. Not the whole truth, but the truth nonetheless. The whole piece around the council keeping a wary eye on him would not disappear anytime soon... and there were other things that were higher on his list of concerns. While there were certain advantages to his level of skill, there were also disadvantages - he knew things those such as his master would otherwise not have him know. Did Master Yuma know something worse was coming their way before it was even said? Possible. He had said often enough that his dreams had different qualities, that he sometimes had visions. That might be explanation enough why he was hiding it. The needs of the many are greater than the needs of the one and such. Still, it concerned him, that in a time when the skills of the healers were of great need, his master...

    "I am just as useful here, as a healer, as I would be out there, a warrior and a healer." He paused, closing his eyes, breathing out a sigh, then opening them again. He spoke in the barest volume, enough for Mandan to hear. "Perhaps with this turn of events, the council will see the error of their decision-making processes and allow me to be of aid."

    He looked over his shoulder, watching Serena a moment, almost pitying her the task of later fielding the questions the younglings would have concerning this matter. Soon enough she would be a knight, and he would... still be a knight, through no failing of his own. Ilias turned his attentions back to the dias, and started thinking of what possible direction the council would set sail to next.

    "What will we do now...?" He wondered aloud.

  9. #29
    Salemescro Avesca
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    The discussion between the Masters and Knights continued without much interjection from the younger members of the Order. The younglings had yet to comprehend what had happened and whilst Salemescro felt he had a grasp on it, he also knew – with surprising maturity – how likely it was that his voice would be heard, both literally and metaphorically.

    In lieu of making some comment, he simply observed those around him, looking to the various Knights and Masters to see how they were reacting. Some appeared composed, whilst others were marked with confusion and disbelief. His attention shifted towards A'na Eldhil, only to find that the Knight had already focused her attention on him. His eyes didn't leave hers as he walked to place himself at her side, distancing himself from the rest of the younglings.

    “One hundred and seventy-nine dead...” he said, looking away to the assembled circle of Jedi for a moment, before glancing back up at A'na with one eyebrow arched quizically. “I suppose this means the Council will have to approve the training of a whole new group of Padawans, to make up for those that have been lost?”

  10. #30
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    "Indeed," A'na said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I believe that you soon will be assigned to a knight." She smiled down at him. Salemescro had nearly been promoted from youngling on one other occasion, but the knight in question had not accepted him. Or something. The pairing had not worked, that much she knew.

    "We should get everyone to the dining hall now," A'na added, "Will you help me with the children?" She looked up and snapped her fingers, her class quickly finding their places in line once more.

  11. #31
    Taman Danar
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    After a while, Taman let go of Madame Nu; while still craving the comfort of being held and kept safe, she was beginning to feel a little foolish.

    Staring down at her own shoes, she wondered what was going to happen to them all now. She was suddenly fearful of letting too much of her emotions and her uncertainty show, although she couldn't say why exactly she felt like that.

    Stepping back from the older woman, feeling very self-conscious, she realised that the librarian had her eyes closed: stock still she stood, body rigidly upright, her face turned up towards the ceiling, the arms that had patted the younger woman's back a moment ago now hanging stiffly at her sides, fists clenched. Perhaps the old woman had read her thoughts - or had she wondered out aloud without realising it? - and was seeking an answer.

    Taman knew that Madame Nu sometimes had the gift of foresight. She had no idea if this was a force-given gift, or a natural talent, but it was something that Taman had always wished she could have herself. She'd never seen Madame Nu use her gift, however; yet any fascination she would have felt at any other time, it was now completely replaced by her all-encumbering fear.

    As Taman watched the still figure in front of her, she saw a shadow crossing the features of the Jedi historian's otherwise serene face; her eyes appeared to be moving behind closed lids as if searching for something. The entire body appeared taut and somehow pulled lengthwise, yet remaining the same as it had always been.

    Finally Jocasta Nu gave a great gasp, and stumbled forwards, grasping Taman's shoulder for support. Taman did an involuntary step backwards, but threw out her arms to steady the older woman.

    Madame Nu breathed in air like someone starved of it. One time. Two times. Three. Her eyes, usually rather small in her face, now sat like two giant glacial moons on her wrinkled face. They appeared dim, distant, preoccupied already with what they had seen. Slowly her breathing steadied, and Taman relaxed her hold of the older woman's arms. For a moment she had been worried that she had misread the situation, that the old woman had suffered a stroke instead of a foretelling.

    Finally Madame Nu seemed to be herself again; she straightened up. Then she seemed to realise in whose company she was, and absent-mindedly a thin smile crept onto her wrinkled face. "You'll do well, Taman, you'll do well yet. You will have the chance you craved for so long; go put your affairs in order, they will call you soon."

    This startled Taman out of her fear. What chance was Madame Nu talking about? She'd only ever craved one thing, and that was the one she'd been denied. Unable to think past the first thoughts that had come to her mind, she hurriedly made her leave and ran off to her private room.

    Could this mean she was going to be a Jedi after all? And what had she seen that she hadn't told her, a lowly corps girl?

  12. #32
    Salemescro Avesca
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    Soon, soon... but how soon? On more than one occasion, an elder Jedi had cautioned him to demonstrate patience, and that when he was ready, the Council would know. With each passing day, it just felt more and more like he had been forgotten. Worse still, Master Eldhil had begun to use him like a dog to shepherd her flock around. Yet, he did not protest when she asked him to guide the younger children away to the dining hall. Protesting such tasks had never won him any favour, either with A'na or the Council, and so he tried to temper his frustration with the knowledge that soon – soon – his training would begin.
    Last edited by Salemescro Avesca; Jan 6th, 2010 at 12:58:05 PM.

  13. #33
    Serena
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    "What of Jedi Knight Selkie? She was one of those who went to Geonosis - Berit Selkie?"

    Master Shaak Ti turned to see the source of the question, and looked upon Knight Halcyon. She inclined her head towards him, her akul-tooth headdress catching the light. "I am sorry, Jedi Halcyon. Knight Selkie is among the honored dead, along with our other brethren."
    Last edited by Lilaena De'Ville; Dec 2nd, 2008 at 04:43:40 PM.

  14. #34
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    Master Frr'nn had tucked her tooth into the band of her obi for saftey, smiling at her. He seemed sad.

    Everyone seemed sad. Lilaena looked around, and poked Liam. "Did the Masters really die?" She was concerned, and frowned while she had to wait as he pounced on the hopper he'd unleashed during the assembly. Liam held it between his two hands, and nodded.

    "Yeah, that's what the Council said." He was a year older than she was, so Lilaena trusted he knew what he was talking about. Even if he was a boy. With a hopper. He held it up to her face, but she wasn't scared, and put her hand on her hip to show her displeasure, just like a grown up. He smirked and ran off, trying to catch up with Master Frr'nn as he led the class out of the hall.

    Lilaena trailed behind, her little face screwed up with concentration. She was sad now, too. She bounced off an older boy who had all white eyes, got startled and ran through another youngling class that scattered around her, and finally caught up with Master Frr'nn who was waiting for her at the door. "Lilaena," he said, sounding like he was going to scold her, but he relented at the look on her face. "Come, child." He put out his hand, and she gratefully took it, hugging his arm.

    Jedi had died. A lot of Jedi. Lilaena sniffed, and not even the awesome space in her teeth where she could stick her tongue out with her mouth closed could cheer her up.

  15. #35
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    A little youngling ran into Salemescro's side as she wandered blindly through the assembly hall, startling the girl so that she broke into a run. A'na bit her lip to stop her from shouting as her class scattered as the other youngling dashed through the middle of their formation.

    She snapped her fingers again, and got all twenty of the children of her Krayt Clan gathered up as they left the hall. Lunch was next, and then... then the children would be returned to the clan living area where Jedi Fi'in would take over for the afternoon. A'na took a deep calming breath, looking around to see if Serena and Hawkbat Clan were nearby.

    They were still inside the Hall. A'na knew she would catch up with Serena later, and nodded greetings to Jedi Master Frr'nn who taught Manticore Clan along with Jedi Greer, a Rodian. The little girl who'd caused such disruption to her clan was with him, clinging to his arm. The Zabrak Jedi inclined his head towards A'na, and herded his charge back to their clan.

    A'na headed towards the dining hall, her thoughts dwelling on the slaughter at Geonosis.

  16. #36
    Fionn Halcyon
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    He had known what the answer would be before she had uttered it - maybe even before he ever set foot inside the temple - but that didn't make it acceptable. It simply couldn't be! She was not dead. She was NOT dead!

    He found all of his anger drained off, making room for disbelief. And then - stubborn denial.

    "She's not dead," he said, at first only to himself as if hearing his own voice would confirm it somehow - then he repeated it out aloud, growling, shouting it out, trying to make them see it too: "She's NOT dead! Do you hear? She's Not dead, NOT DEAD!"

    Then, noticing their bewildered faces at his outburst, he simply continued yelling at them: "She's my wife - and she's not dead! Let me go, and I'll bring her back here!"

  17. #37
    Istina Chriferre
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    Istina had no idea how long she'd been on this Force-forsaken ship; she'd just awakened to the dark room she was sharing with the two other padawan survivors of the Battle of Geonosis. Neither of them were awake, and Istina was actually glad of the fact. Both of them were older than her fifteen years, and on the way to the planet had done all but ignore her. The nice boy their age that had spoken with her, and even helped her with some Force training that she was having difficulty with, was dead, burned all over by blaster shots.

    She'd seen it happen; it had been as she was riding in one of the troop carriers into the arena where the Jedi were surrounded, they had touched down, and she had been forcefully told to stay within the carrier. As she crouched, she had looked and seen the young man slicing through a battle droid and then blocking a few shots, before he was overwhelmed and she couldn't see him for the amount of plasma that scorched into his body.

    Istina shivered, and shook her head to clear it of the memory. For few moments, she tried to meditate and release the emotions into the Force, but she gave up a few minutes later, frustrated and hungry. After struggling into her boots, she meandered her way to a synthesizer, and ordered some food to assuage the ache in her stomach. She kept a careful ear on the conversations floating around her, only getting interested in one:

    "There's orders coming down for preparation to leave hyperspace."

    "Yessir. How long until we revert?"

    "Should be about another five hours. You have your orders."

    "Sir!" the navy men jogged off to get their stations in line and prepared for the reversion from hyperspace.

    Istina felt relieved that home wasn't too far away, but also she never wanted to see it again; it would hurt to be there without her master. She cast a glance down at her three-quarters eaten food, and sighed. She'd lost her appetite.

  18. #38
    Salemescro Avesca
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    As the younglings trailed away, Salem glanced back over his shoulder at the sound of Master Halcyon's voice. The boy observed the elder Jedi's outburst for only a handful of seconds, before he looked up at A'na Eldhil.

    “This is why we don't marry, isn't it,” he observed, dispassionately.

  19. #39
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    It was indeed one of several reasons why Jedi did not have attachments outside of the Order. Though Ilias had not been party to the comments that the young Salem made, he was having the same thoughts - ones that cautioned him against his own situation of which he had little doubt that it was known about. She couldn't say for much longer at the temple. And with certainty, he knew he would not be around this place for that much longer himself.

    Knight Nytrau looked away from the dias to the retreating clans of younglings, many of whom he had been tasked with healing for one reason or another. Even the likes of Serena he had put his healing hands to in help, when he was but a padawan, allowed only to practice rudimentary healing of minor scrapes and bruises. He knew well enough that he was always capable, by natural gift, of much, much more.

    He wished, some small part of him, that he could understand the pain that Fionn felt. Though older, he was a friend. Him and his wife. The news of a friend lost... for Nytrau, it had been several. It was a pain that was beyond the capabilities of any healer to heal.

  20. #40
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    "Yes," A'na said simply, looking down at the young Arkanian. "Emotions in and of themselves are not always bad, or wrong to have, but they often can cloud your judgment. A Jedi should be mindful of that and keep a clear mind. We cannot think of one being as more important than all the others, but serve everyone equally as a Jedi."

    She put her hand on his shoulder, steering Salemescro along with her as she walked to the dining hall. "The Council has their hands full," A'na continued absently, almost forgetting the boy was there.

    history will remember us for our action, or for our inaction

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