#gnost-dural

[swtorpadawan]

SWTORpadawan Headcanon: The Unforgiven

There are several passing references in the game to what happened on Tython during the five-year gap in Knights of the Fallen Empire. Right out of the gate, Lana specifically informs the Outlander that the Jedi Order took devastating casualties during the war and doesn’t know anything about any surviving leadership. The romanced Nadia Grell letter specifically mentions the attack on Tython, while Kira concludes her own letter by informing us that the Jedi Order was “dying”.

Much later, of course, we meet the Jedi who evacuated to Ossus in Jedi Under Siege, who are completely unaware of everything that’s happened around the galaxy in the past five or six years.       

The conclusion we come to is that the Zakuulans attacked Tython, and some of the Jedi escaped to Ossus. (Even bringing some of the Kalikori villagers along with them.)

In my Halcyon Legacy Storyline, I’ve featured this largely unchronicled event in a couple of short stories: This Moment and How We Came to This Point. We have almost no “canon” details about it, although from what we see later on Ossus, it is clear that some or all of the Kalikori villagers went with the evacuees. (In my story, this was a minority of the Twi’leks who chose to join the exile, and Kalikori Village still stands on Tython.)

But let me expand on all that: One head-canon I have is that when the Jedi were preparing for the attack and their evacuation, they realized that they would need several defense teams to slow the Zakuulans down. A sort of “rear guard” if you will. Given their experiences with the Eternal Empire up to that point, they knew that losses to these special groups would be extremely heavy, assuming any of those Jedi made it off Tython at all.

One of these combat teams of volunteers (one that formed organically rather than by design) was made up entirely of Force-users who had experienced the touch of darkness in their respective pasts. Each of them carried a degree of responsibility and guilt for the circumstances of their lives. That didn’t mean they didn’t believe in the Jedi Order and their precepts; on the contrary, most of them were quite grateful to the order for their help. But individually, each of them came to the conclusion that if the Order was to begin anew, they would need to save as many Jedi of all ranks as they could, even at the cost of their own lives.

At the suggestion of one of their members, the group would call themselves ‘the Unforgiven’.

When the remaining members of the Jedi Council – Archivist Gnost-Dural and Barsen’thor Ulannium Kaarz – protested that it went against every principle the Jedi held dear to place individuals at risk of being sacrificed on the basis of their past experiences. The nominal leader of the Unforgiven – one Bengel Morr –countered that they weren’t seeking forgiveness from the Council or the Order; they were thankful they had already been given that. Rather, they were seeking to forgive themselves.

The Council still objected to the name but under the circumstances, they could not deny the group’s right to fight for the Order.  

As the might of the Eternal Empire descended upon Tython, the Unforgiven held the line. Every time it appeared the Knights of Zakuul and their legions of Skytroopers would break through and turn the retreat into a massacre, the Unforgiven were there, forcing the Eternal Empire to pay for every inch and making sure that as many Jedi as possible were saved.

In the aftermath of the exodus, in recognition of their sacrifice, Gnost-Dural vowed that the courage of the Unforgiven would forever be remembered in the Jedi Archives.

Without further ado, I present the Unforgiven.

Master Surro and the two survivors of the Seventh Line. We first encounter Master Surro and the Seventh Line on Ziost. [There’s a whole bunch about the Seventh Line that I find controversial, including whether or not Satele Shan and the Council even knew about them and what they were doing on Ziost. Instead, we only hear about them from Theron or Lana, even if we are playing a Jedi Master sitting on the Council.] Nevertheless, Vitiate’s possession of Surro and the others was one of the best subplots of the Rise of the Emperor story. Naturally, during my playthrough with Corellan Halcyon, he spared Surro (despite Lana’s protests) and the two other unnamed Seventh Line members, as well. (They couldn’t have given them names???) In the months that followed, Surro and the others were treated with kindness by the Jedi, but when the Eternal Empire appeared poised to strike at Tython, remembering the harm they had done on Ziost under Vitiate’s influence, they were among the first to volunteer for the defense teams.

Among the Unforgiven, they would be among the first to die during the retreat, covering the final withdrawal from the Temple.

[Tagging @swtorramblings and @starknstarwars ]

Fortris Gall.  Seventeen years before the fall of Tython, Fortris Gall had been an impressive young Jedi Knight during the closing days of the First Great Galactic War. A hero during the first battle of Balmorra, Gall bitterly opposed the conditions of the Treaty of Coruscant. Joining a conspiracy led by Master Dar’nala, Gall took part in the bombing of the Galactic Senate on Coruscant in an effort to vacate the Treaty by blaming the Sith for the act of terrorism. After a fateful encounter on Dantooine with Satele Shan, Darth Baras and Darth Angral, Gall realized the extent of his error, abandoning Dar’nala to her fate.  

Gall understood that if he returned to the Jedi and the Republic, he would be held responsible for his crimes. Unable to face his former Master – the legendary Orgus Din, who sat on the Jedi Council, Gall withdrew into the Outer Rim. There, far from the frontline galactic conflicts, he rediscovered what it meant to be a Jedi in his own way, helping isolated colonies to resist attacks by pirates and slavers.

He eventually found a measure of peace.

When the Eternal Empire began its campaign against the known galaxy, Gall initially declined to get involved. He was well aware of his own legacy and was worried that he would repeat his mistakes.

But when he heard that Orgus Din had been slain years before while fighting Darth Angral at the start of the Second Galactic War, Gall realized he had to make peace with his time as part of the Jedi Order. He arrived on Tython mere days before the attack, and – after meeting with Bengel Morr, another former apprentice of Din’s – immediately joined the Unforgiven. During the fighting, he bravely felled three Zakuulan Walkers single-handedly with his twin lightsabers before finally being cut down by an Exarch.

Fashk. Growing up, the Flesh Raider known as Fashk always knew he was different from most of his people. He saw things that they didn’t. Felt things that they didn’t. Eventually, during the Flesh Raider uprising of 10 ATC, he realized he shared the gifts of the hated Jedaii. Desperate to earn his place with the Order and learning that they had recently begun supporting the Kalikori villagers, Fashk abducted a young Twi’lek named Viyo Kobbeth. This led him to the attention of a talented Padawan on Tython in Corellan Halcyon, who sought to rescue the pilgrim. Despite the severe nature of the situation, Corellan agreed to support Fashk’s introduction into the Order. At last, he would become a mighty hunter.

The next few years were difficult for Fashk. Although he was talented in the Force, denying his own aggression went against every instinct that had been ingrained in him as a Flesh Raider, both genetic and cultural. Nevertheless, he managed not to attack any of his fellow trainees, so he maintained his place with the Jedi, tentative though it was.

Finally given the chance to see combat on the world of his birth, Fashk was quick to volunteer for the toughest combat assignment available to cover the evacuation, and that meant the Unforgiven.

During the attack, the Flesh Raider lashed out with the Force with a ferocity that startled the Zakuulans, briefly driving them back and buying the Jedi precious moments.

Fashk was never happier than in the last moment of his life.

Loyat. Loyat was a life-long Sith, trained on Korriban and apprenticed to Darth Arho, a Dark Councilor and Loyat’s eventual lover. Later as a Sith Lord, Loyat fought under Arho’s command during the Battle of Ilum. Abandoned by her master during a Republic counterattack, Loyat was defeated and captured by Corellan Halcyon and Kira Carsen. Realizing that everything Arho had taught her had ultimately been a lie, she abandoned the teachings of the Sith. After a relatively short time in a Republic prison, Loyat – at Corellan’s recommendation – was sent to Tython to begin her recovery and possible training as a Jedi, should she accept it.

Although grateful for the chance to work through her trauma, Loyat struggled to fully embrace the Jedi path. Her emotions were too close to the surface for her to make that commitment. When the Eternal Empire was poised to attack Tython, the Jedi were prepared to designate Loyat as a dependent and prioritize her evacuation. Partially out of gratitude and partially out of pride, Loyat insisted on joining the defensive combat teams. Knowing her history with Corellan on Ilum, Bengel Morr recommended her for the Unforgiven.

Loyat fought bravely against the Zakuulans, destroying dozens of Skytroopers until she was eventually knocked unconscious in an artillery explosion from an Eternal Empire walker as the Unforgiven fell back.

Loyat was officially listed as “Missing – Presumed Killed” in the Jedi Order’s after-action report. After all, it seems implausible to believe she could have survived…  

[Author’s Note: Tagging Loyat’s #1 fan girl, @raven-of-domain-kwaad as well as @alexsrandomramblings ]

Sajar. Once a member of the Dark Council years ago before his defeat at Tol Braga’s hands, the path to redemption has been a long one for Sajar who faced numerous setbacks over the years. His lapse on Quesh while commanding Republic troops led to him executing several prisoners of war and led to a fateful encounter between the Hero of Tython, Corellan Halcyon, and the Emperor’s Wrath, Lord Scourge.

Sajar spent years recovering from his ordeal on Quesh determined not to falter again. When he heard that Tol Braga, who had been his master, had succumbed to the Emperor’s mind control techniques, it led to another crisis of faith, this time leaving him catatonic for a time. While in this state, Sajar experienced several Force-visions involving Corellan Halcyon.

Although he again recovered, word that Halcyon had been killed aboard Darth Marr’s flagship darkened his mood. When it was clear the Zakuulan’s attack on Tython was imminent, he was among the first to volunteer for the combat teams.

During the fighting, the Unforgiven were briefly at risk of being encircled, which would have allowed the Eternal Empire to bypass their defense and strike at the Jedi ships as they lifted off planet. Recognizing that the Order’s survival meant far more to him than the inner peace of a single faltering Jedi, Sajar reached out to the Dark Side and embraced the power that had once been his as one of the most powerful Sith in the galaxy. The Zakuulans, unprepared to face the tactical challenge of a potent Sith amongst the Jedi, were briefly stunned. As he unleashed a fearsome storm of lightning against the Knights of Zakuul, the last three survivors of his team were able to pull back and continue the fight, allowing the last of the evacuation ships to escape.

In the final seconds of his life, Sajar received the gift of one final vision from the Force. With tears trailing down his cheeks, he let out a cry of laughter as he saw that Corellan Halcyon had not only survived but that he would one day meet with the survivors of Tython, many of whom would owe their lives to Sajar.

Sajar did not die as a Jedi, but his sacrifice allowed many other Jedi to live.    

[Author’s Note: Special thanks to @taraum for the bit about Sajar having visions concerning Corellan’s future, as that concept was shamelessly pilfered from her amazing Motivations story that you should definitely go read. Also tagging @shabre-legacy ]

Ako Domi. A hero during the First Great Galactic War, Domi was captured by the Sith Empire during the Battle of Sullust, a conflict that earned him a legendary status in the Republic. Imprisoned at Shadow Town on Nar Shaddaa, Domi was subjected to horrific torments, and watching his fellow prisoners turn on each other eventually broke him. Now a Sith, Domi and his apprentices would eventually encounter Corellan Halcyon and Kira Carsen years later during the Power Guard Crisis. The two Jedi defeated the Sith, but Corellan refused to strike the killing blow on the former Jedi, instead insisting instead that Domi be sent to Tython in an attempt to recover his humanity. (Satele Shan later would commend Corellan for his decision, though predictably Jaric Kaedan would not.)

Domi’s return to the Jedi path was a slow and arduous one. Part of him embraced the familiarity of the Order and its teachings. But with the guilt with everything he had done, of the lives he had destroyed in Shadow Town, it took him years before he could trust himself to hold a lightsaber again.

But recover he did. Just in time to meet the Zakuulan invasion.

It was Ako Domi who dubbed the defense team ‘the Unforgiven’. None of the other members objected.

As the battle of Tython waged on, no one fought with greater zeal and determination than Domi. For a few hours, he was once again the Hero of Sullust, fighting in a hopeless battle.

He was one of just three Jedi left still fighting at the end.

Domi gave his life to allow Bengel Morr and Nalen Raloch a few fleeting moments to fall back to their last defensive trench, where they reported their status to the evacuation fleet in the final transmission from Tython.

Bengel Morr. Another former padawan of Jedi Master Orgus Din, Bengel Morr was traumatized by the destruction of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant during the Sack at the end of the last war. Withdrawing from the Order and the Force, Morr spent years navigating the galaxy’s criminal underworld, learning the ways of power. A decade of preparation later, he reemerged on Tython with an apprentice, determined to destroy the Jedi Order by controlling the Flesh Raiders.

Morr’s defeat at Corellan Halcyon’s hands at the end of the uprising was a revelation to him. In that moment at the Forge, he saw the true future of the Jedi, and he finally understood his own role to play in that destiny.

In the weeks that followed under the care of the Masters of Tython, Morr slowly started to recover. With his pain eased, he started to remember his old self. Bengel realized what he had done, and was left guilt-ridden, even more so when he learned of the death of Orgus Din at the hands of Darth Angral. But the consoling messages he received from Corellan helped ease his suffering, and by the Battle of Corellia, the short-handed Jedi were willing to send the recovered Nautolan into battle.

Morr distinguished himself during the fighting against the Sith, though witnessing the horrors of war first-hand once again raised the specters of Coruscant in the dark corners of his mind. Sensing his unease, the Masters allowed him to return to Tython as part of a training cadre; one that included Nalen Raloch, formerly of Kalikori Village. The very people who Morr had tormented during the Flesh Raider uprising he led.

Facing Nalen Raloch and his resentment on a daily basis proved to be one of the greatest challenges of Bengel’s life. The Twi’lek harbored considerable hatred towards the Nautolan for everything the pilgrims of his village had endured.

It took years for Bengel to earn Nalen’s trust and respect. But in the process, Bengel made peace with some of his own demons. The two became close friends.

The training cadre missed the fighting on Tython during the Sith Empire’s assault on the Temple before the Revanite Crisis as they were hundreds of kilometers away on a survey mission scouting the Flesh Raiders. A year later when it became clear that the Zakuulans intended to attack Tython, Bengel – who had endured two sackings of Jedi Temples – vowed he would not allow a third.

The Unforgiven were born, with Bengel as their nominal leader. And on Tython, Bengel Morr finally met his destiny, making peace with his past.

Nalen Raloch. Nalen Raloch had always been a protector. When the Kalikori pilgrims were driven from Ryloth, he protected them from their orthodox Twi’lek persecutors as a young warrior. After they settled on Tython, he emerged as his village’s champion, holding off the predators in the Flesh Raiders and other indigenous species.

But serving as a protector is a double-edged sword for every being; when he found the holocron of Rajivari, Raloch was seduced by the promise of power he needed to defend his people, and in the promise of striking back at the Jedi who had ignored his peoples’ suffering for all their posturing assertion of moral superiority.

It was only after his confrontation with a talented young Mirialan padawan named Ulannium Kaarz that Nalen realized that everything he was trying to do to protect his people would have led to their destruction had he not been stopped.

Nalen, under the care of the Jedi, slowly began to rebuild his life and his sense of identity.

He came to see the value in defending not just his own people, but all people. He came to understand that he could be a protector without letting that consume him.

When he was confronted with training beside the man who had led the Flesh Raider uprising, he was beyond disgusted. He nearly quit the Jedi on the spot.

But as time went on, he began to see Bengel’s compassion. His dedication. His commitment not only to the Jedi but to his own redemption for his actions.

Nalen would learn more from Bengel than he’d learned from anyone.

When Bengel volunteered to lead one of the defense teams, Nalen didn’t hesitate to join him, despite knowing the likely outcome.

During the Battle of Tython, Nalen fought hard, but he found himself increasingly distracted. As the Eternal Empire fell upon the Jedi home world, he was terrified that the Zakuulans would turn their eyes towards Kalikori Village, knowing that his people would have been wiped out had they sent even a handful of Skytroopers in that direction.

Had Bengel not been by his side, he would have abandoned the Jedi and returned to his old home in a desperate attempt to save his fellow Twi’leks.

As it stood, Nalen and Bengel were the last two living document Jedi on Tython. In the final message from the retreating Order, Ulannium, now a master on the Jedi council, exchanged kind words. The Barsen’thor further revealed that the Zakuulans had bypassed Kalikori Village, much to Nalen’s relief.

Nalen and Bengel were alone.

Before the end, the two exchanged a fleeting moment. They acknowledged the possibility of what might have been between them in another life.

Nalen had found what he had sought for so long; the strength he’d needed to defend his people.

@grandninjamasterren @swtorhub

Thanks for reading.

#swtorpadawan writes #swtorpadawan talks #swtor talks #the unforgiven #surro #master surro #seventh line #the seventh line #rise of the emperor #fortris gall #threat of peace #dar'nala #master dar'nala #gnost-dural #satele shan #orgus din #fashk #flesh raiders #tython #loyat #sajar #taraum #ako domi #bengel morr #nalen raloch #oc: corellan halcyon #oc: ulannium kaarz #kalikori village

[ospreyeamon]

(not actually) dead all along

Members of the Jedi Council make some pretty baffling mistakes when it comes to their analysis of the Sith Emperor.

Take Gnost-Dural’s presentation of his theory that the Sith Emperor was Naga Sadow to the Council back when he was still a knight. Naga Sadow cannot be the Sith Emperor because he has been dead for hundreds of years. The Jedi know he’s dead. There have been at least two recorded encounters with him that Gnost-Dural is personally aware of; Sadow’s training of and murder by Freedon Nadd, and the mess with Barel Ovair, Eison Gynt, and Sadow’s ghost recounted in the seventh entry of his galactic timeline. How could Gnost-Dural have espoused something so obviously, embarrassingly wrong?

Satele Shan publicly backing Chancellor Saresh’s statement that the Sith Emperor has been killed is also strange. The information Saresh is working off must have come from the Order because it was the Order’s mission, led by the Knight, which took out the Emperor. Scourge’s defection to follow the Knight gives the Jedi Order the best source of information on the Emperor anyone in the Republic has.

Scourge knows that the Sith Emperor was once known as Darth Vitiate of Medriaas. He knows the Emperor is a red sith rather than a human, so when he and the rest of the Knight’s team are going through the after-action report he must have bought up that, ugh, it seems they killed the Emperor’s Voice rather than the Emperor himself. Scourge knows that Vitiate’s body will need to be dealt with to be permanently rid of him.

The Jedi Council does not have confirmation that the Emperor is dead. Confidently supporting a statement that he is serves to lull the Republic into a false sense of security. This is a critical intelligence failure.

But there is a potential reason why these theories might have been taken seriously – a lot of the Jedi involved in intelligence work think the Sith Emperor has been dead all along.

It’s not a crazy idea. Sith ghosts can be incredibly dangerous. Marka Ragnos’ appearance to stop Exan Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma fighting each other and get them fighting the Republic caused huge problems for the Jedi. Terrak Morrhage was able to do a lot of damage while possessing Parkanas Tark.

Possession is an ability usually an ability exhibited by ghosts, not living Force-adepts. Immortality is a pipe dream people have been chasing for millennia; there is nothing to support the Emperor’s assertion he has succeeded where all others failed save his own continued existence. The Emperor’s disinclination to make public appearances and failure to fight in the Great Galactic War, when Imperial history says in centuries past he walked among his subjects, could be explained by his death at the end of a long natural lifespan which he chose to conceal so as to remain in power.

The diminishment of the Emperor’s presence after the death of the body he was possessing still makes sense. A ghost’s corpse seems to serve as some sort of anchor for them, so Scourge’s concern with locating Vitiate’s body still makes sense. Even though the idea is wrong it fits with a lot of the evidence the Jedi have access to, and extrapolating from an incorrect premise can result in mistakes that seem ridiculous without that context.

If you think the Sith Emperor is a ghost then suggesting he is the ghost of Naga Sadow, last Dark Lord of the Old Empire, in particular is far more reasonable.

If you think the Sith Emperor has been dead for centuries (and more recently whacked into what will hopefully be a prolonged period of dormancy if not outright destroyed) then releasing a statement that the Emperor is dead is not something you worry will spread bad information.

#Meanwhile in a Galaxy Far Far Away #star wars meta #swtor meta #Gnost-Dural #the Sith Emperor #star wars the old republic #a wild headcanon appeared

[theshieldbladelegacy]

#SWTOR #star wars #the old republic #the shieldblade legacy #jedi knight #kira carsen #tau idair #sana rae #gnost-dural #dorium #legacy of the sith #zabrak

[anchanted-one]

Book of Storms: Legend of Vajra

Chapter 8: Trials

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/108977704

The Jedi Temple, Several weeks later

Satele Shan, Grand Master of the Jedi Order, studied the Padawan as he entered the Meeting Chamber.

“Vajra! Please, come on in. We were most relieved to hear when you started to recover. We feared we were going to lose you.”

“That was a daring act you pulled off,” Kaedan sighed. “The Council commends your valor.”

“Thank you, Masters.”

“We would also like to apologize for saddling you with such a monumental task alone,” Bela said. “You were all but alone for a time.”

“The growing darkness has you worried, I understand.”

Satele snorted. “Strange, is it not, how a threat almost literally on our doorstep is not the massive threat we’ve been Sensing? It’s like the heart of our power is irrelevant.”

“Well, Tython is out of the way,” Vajra replied. “Remote. Things that happen here only affect the Galaxy if it can wipe us out. Which it can’t. Even a few Knights are sufficient to keep the Khrayii at bay. But you always knew that, didn’t you, Masters? The Force flows so… calmly here despite all the turmoil. To it, this conflict is… irrelevant.” His eyes widened and he clammed up, as if realizing he had said too much.

“Indeed,” Satele said. “I’m glad you see things so clearly.”

“I apologize, Masters.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Master Syo Bakarn said kindly. “Your insight proves a point we’ve all discussed several times in this Council. You are ready to start taking your trials.” Behind Bela, the holo of her Padawan stirred but said nothing.

“What?” Vajra was taken aback. “But Masters, I have so much to learn, still! I can’t even Control my breath yet; you saw what a few cannisters of poison did to me!”

“Indeed, there are still a few things you need to learn. Fortunately, your trials will take time to complete. You still have some time to learn.”

“I see. I am honored by the Council’s confidence in me.”

“You have earned it,” Kaedan said gruffly. “Your dedication and tenacity have been noticed, as has your adherence to the Code. Know that we do not make this decision lightly.”

“Yes, Masters.”

“You have already passed a more grueling Trial of the Flesh than anything we could have set up,” Tol said. “The same Trial proved your valour. We also believe you have passed any Trials of Skill, but…”

“I disagree, Master Braga. While I agree my combat skills are good, the poisoning incident proved to me that I have a lot left to learn. I am also not very confident in using the Force in subtle or peaceful ways. I have a lot to learn, and I would like the time to learn them properly.”

“Agreed,” Master Orgus said. “As I mentioned earlier, there is much I would like to teach him before letting him make his own way out there.”

“Noted. Your trials will happen slowly, young one. And, I agree that your soft skills are just as important as your blade work. We will think up a suitable Trial of Skill as well.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“You may leave, Vajra.”

The young Apprentice bowed and left.

“He sounds… different,” Satele remarked.

“His lessons in Basic have been progressing well,” Orgus replied. “He’s also gotten better and more confident in debating.”

“Clearly. What have you been teaching him?”

“Whatever I can. But in this case, it’s Jasme we have to thank. And his own interest, of course.”

“It’s poise and thoughtfulness worthy of a Jedi,” Tol remarked. “I’m amazed how far he’s come in the few months since his arrival.”

“But is it right to add to his burdens?” Bela spoke up. “He’s still just a child! And we’ve put too much on his plate already! I’ll never forget the torment on his face when he lamented having killed two thousand Flesh Raiders.”

“And his state when I returned to find him in the infirmary,” Orgus added.

“That was then,” Braga argued. “As we saw, he’s growing. Fast. And we need all the Knights we can field.”

“Then we should look elsewhere,” Bela said stubbornly. “We’ll start raiding cribs next!”

“I agree,” Orgus said pleadingly. “Let me have a few years with him. I want to do a proper job with him.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have that luxury. Any lessons you can squeeze into the next month or two is all he’ll be afforded. The darkness continues to grow, and we still don’t know what it is. Or where.”

“I’m certain it’s here on Coruscant,” Bela said.

“A world with over trillion people. A world that has enough surface area to match a thousand ordinary worlds, thanks to the many levels of construction. That’s a lot of ground to cover.”

“I’ll find it,” Bela insisted.

“Kira,” Satele interjected. “I’m sure you were listening?”

“Indeed I was, Master Satele. If it’s my opinion you’re asking for, Vajra is already a splendid Jedi. But he’s also young. I’d rather preserve that a little longer if I could. Heck, if this Council was willing to trust me, I’d shoulder the burden myself so he wouldn’t have to.”

“Noble,” Kaedan growled. “Is this a sign you want to be made Knight before him?”

“No, though I understand why it appears that way. I don’t care about my seniority. He’s my friend, and I want to protect him.”

“Well said,” Bela nodded. “He has the potential. But I fear we will squander it if we rush the process.”

“The trials will start, that much has already been decided,” Satele sighed. “But I agree that we can pace it so as to give him more time.”

“Time is something he needs,” Kira insisted. “Please, Masters.”

“Your opinion has been noted, Padawan,” Syo said in his usual, kindly manner.

“It feels like we’re going around in circles on an already decided subject,” Kaedan said. “I think we should move on to the next topic.”

“Agreed. Master Kiwiiks, tell us about your progress on Coruscant please.”

Satele listened with half an ear to her colleague’s report, but the back of her mind continued to work on the subject of Vajra’s Knighthood. All objections she kept hearing were, in her opinion, very valid. But there was little she could do. These past months, Vajra had done the work of a small force of full Knights. While in hindsight, it had been a terrible mistake giving him so much responsibility, the result was unmistakable. And most of her fellow Councillors—even the ones who were rarely able to attend anymore—wanted to give him his spurs.

*

Satele sat in her chambers later that day, brushing her daughter’s hair as she animatedly chatted away as usual. She was talking about the Kalikori this time.

“They’re having a festival tonight,” she was saying. “I’ve been looking into their customs after the poisoning incident—that ‘grand matriarch’ woman gave me really bad vibes—and I was thinking just how drab their culture was. Even the Khrayii have a more solid culture, and that’s saying something. The Kalikori… their festivals feel kinda thrown together. ‘Hey, it’s common to have a harvest festival, so let’s make one ourselves! And let’s make drinks from the first batch of crops because it seems so smart! What’s that, add our own flavor? Our own instruments, stories, beliefs? Why ever would we do that? This is good, this is smart!’”

Satele snorted. “Kolovish really got under your skin, didn’t she?”

“It’s more than that,” Jasme insisted. “She’s up to something.”

“Well, at least we know her ‘something’ doesn’t involve speaking to people off-world. We’ve detected no transmissions that weren’t our own.”

“She’s going to end up with her arms clapped in irons someday… mark my words,” Jasme said darkly.

“Of course, dear. I’ll trust your judgement. You’ve proven a good judge of character after all.”

“Awww, thanks Mom!”

“I’m glad to see you more yourself again.”

“Yeah, seeing Vajra so badly injured, thinking he might die… it really scared me.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

Jasme turned her head slightly to beam. “Yes.”

“He’s impressed the Council too. Almost everyone wants him Knighted as soon as possible.”

“So, he told me,” Jasme beamed. “Right after you let him go, in fact. I’m glad they see his worth. He’s already seen as something of a guardian among the Kalikori. Hey, I just realized; there’s at least two places in the galaxy where people see him as some divine champion! The Raudra revere anyone whose third eye has gone white!”

Satele chuckled. “The legend of Vajra is off to a good start already then.”

“So now you’re foisting a Knighthood on him. I’m so proud of the little guy! But also, a little worried…”

“Because of his age?”

“And his maturity. His inner balance has improved loads lately, but I still worry about him.”

“But his judgement is above reproach. All reports agree that his approach has saved the most lives.”

“That is true. I still wish he’d tried to evacuate the Kalikori rather than save their food.”

“Remember, Jasme. We can’t share too much with them. We’re still bound by Republic law after all.”

Jasme waved dismissively. “Doesn’t mean organizations like the Peace Brigade won’t help them.”

“We can’t let them know where Tython is.”

“So many complications,” Jasme sighed.

“Speaking of complications,” Satele said. “Tomas…”

“I’ve not heard from him, but his doctor says he’s still alive.” Jasme sounded upset again. “I hope he chooses life, Mom. He’s a good man.”

“Yes, my dear.”

“I… I want to see him again. But he’s forbidden it. I’m… I’m trying to move on. It feels like a betrayal. But it’s what he wants.”

“What is it you want?”

“To say goodbye properly, at least. And, maybe, another sibling. A Sister this time. What do you say?”

Satele chuckled. “I’m sorry, Jasme. I can’t.”

“I know. I was just joking. Anyway, I want to be an archivist. And an historian. I want to study ancient cultures and cities.”

“Jasme… whatever happens, please don’t give up on love and family. You’re not a Jedi. You’re not destined—or perhaps I should say ‘doomed’—to follow our path. If there is one thing I’ve regretted bitterly, it’s not raising you and Theron like a real Mother would.”

“I already have a new crush,” Jasme said, but Satele knew she was just saying that. Tom’s fate would worry her for some years to come. She hoped someone—Vajra perhaps—could be a shoulder for Jasme to lean on until events were resolved.

“Oh really? Who is it this time?”

“General Jace Malcom!” she said, and Satele had to fight to not sputter.

“Why him? He’s even older than I am!”

“He just looks so gorgeous in his armor! I think I like muscular men in armor. Tom sported an armored set of robes too, remember?”

“Yes, he did,” Satele’s chuckle was awkward. Was her daughter teasing her? Had she guessed? She certainly hoped so! It was better than thinking her daughter had inadvertently developed a crush on her kriffing Father!

“So, what have you decided about Vajra?”

“The decision has already been made. In fact, his recent ordeal was already approved as trials of Valor and Flesh.”

“Oh, right! He mentioned that too! So, he’s already a quarter of the way there, isn’t he? Damn! This is happening too fast. It’s no wonder he looked so overwhelmed when we spoke.”

“Right.”

“Mom? Can you at least promise me you won’t toss him into the deep end?”

“I wish I could, Jasme. But my hands are tied right now. You’ve no idea how starved for Knights we are. But I’ll do what I can.”

“Please don’t waste his life,” Jasme said.

“I try not to waste anyone’s lives.”

“Well, be extra, extra careful with his. Please. You’ll thank me someday. And I’ll thank you every single day.”

“Of course.”

“Also… try not to overburden yourself either. I love you, Mom. I want to see you grow into a happy old woman. Not someone filled with regret.”

“That is even less of a certainty. But I’ll do what I can.”

*

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #swtor #swtor fanfic #swtor fanfiction #jedi knight #hero of tython #satele shan #syo bakarn #tol braga #jaric kaedan #Gnost-Dural #kira carsen #jasme

[legendscon]

More freebies! Our friends at SWTOR sent us a big box of posters and pins for our attendees! Stop by the information booth at the convention both days to take your pick of posters and pins while supplies last!

#SWTOR family #Darth Malgus #Tau Idair #SWTOR #Copero #Chiss #SWTOR Onslaught #General Daeruun #Onderon #Onderon Temple #Major Anri #Arn Peralun #Gnost Dural #Darth Rviix #Lana Beniko #SWTOR Legacy of the Sith #ExpandedUniverse #StarWars Legends #Star Wars Expanded Universe #SWEU

[incorrectstarwarslegendsquotes]

Jace Malcom: Marcus Trant: Satele Shan: Teff'ith: Gnost-Dural: Theron Shan: It seemed like a good idea at the time.

#Jace Malcom #Marcus Trant #Satele Shan #Teff'ith #Gnost Dural #Theron Shan #star wars: the old republic #swotor #star wars #star wars legends #incorrect star wars quotes #submission #magnetarbeam #original: unknown

[miraluking-respectfully]

saw @lanabenikosdoormat's post & immediately rushed to throw this together. original template by cheesecakebaras on insta but i personally stole it from here

#i am predictable as hell #except maybe the gnost-dural pick. i dunno! i like the cut of his jib! #also i almost put malora as my fave sith bc she is perpetually having the worst day ever #swtor #star wars the old republic #swtor meme #killikposting #<- it counts #undescribed

[archeo-starwars]

The Journal of Master Gnost-Dural

#star wars #the journal of master gnost dural #in universe sources #in universe journals #jedi #jedi culture #satele shan

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@t3mpest98 For your Kel Dor everyday needs ♥

Yes, blue is very flattering for Kel Dors:

Gnost Dural from the Old Republic Game (blue)

Custom figure of Gnost Dural being hella fucking bad ass tho.. in blue:

I can't find the artists for this but it is in a public domain for art concept. We have actually used this as HC for Papa Koon, my bestie and I's OC for Plo Koon's hot dad LOL

OC Khan the Kel Dor by Felipe Borbs:

Kel Dor kids + Blue

Feat. Baby Sha Koon ♥

#♝ #plo koon #kel dors #dorin #babies #kel dor children #egg #feel free to stop me because i cannot #gnost dural #tol braga

[serenofroses]

Jazmyn “Jazz” Nevrakis: [10/?] featuring Gnost Dural and General Daeruun sw:tor Nevrakis legacy.

#swtor #serenscarlett edits #oc: jazmyn nevrakis #ch: gnost dural #ch: general daeruun

[slimy-eye]

I vote Master Gnost Dural for the next Jedi Grandmaster.

#swtor #gnost dural #Star Wars The Old Republic

[swtorpadawan]

A Jedi Consular’s Path – Chapter One: How We Came to This Point

Author’s Notes: The following story is part of my Halcyon Legacy and features a character I rarely get to write about Ulannium Kaarz. It takes place during the five-year gap from Knights of the Fallen Empire in the aftermath of the fall of Tython. Expect a handful of game-canon divergences as well as cameos from minor NPCs from the game.

Jedi Master Ulannium Kaarz let out a heavy sigh as he rested his palms against the now-extinguished holo-terminal.

It has been a long day.

The Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order reflected on the present situation. If he were being candid with himself, it had been a string of long days dating back almost a year.

A moment earlier, he had been speaking over the holo with Nalen Raloch. Once an enemy long ago, the Twi’lek had turned into an ally and even a friend. The two Jedi had exchanged words of admiration and respect as Nalen had prepared to make his final stand against the Zakuulan ground forces on Tython. He had been part of the final rear guard, covering the evacuation.

If that final report had been accurate, Nalen was one of two Jedi still alive on Tython. And he was on the brink of being overrun by an enemy that had taken no prisoners.

Ulannium recalled how he had first met Nalen all those years ago. As the champion defender of Kalikori Village, the Twi’lek had been corrupted by the holocron of Rajivari, leading him to plot the destruction of the Jedi Order. Ulannium, still a Padawan at the time, had defeated Nalen in single combat, starting the Twi’lek on the path of recovery. But it had been the man himself who had found the strength within himself to become someone better.

It was strange to think that Nalen, who had joined the order relatively late in life as a grown adult under such inauspicious circumstances and after such a brush with the dark side, might have just ended his life as a better Jedi than Ulannium - one of the most celebrated Jedi of his generation - had lived his.

As he continued to grip the display for support, Ulannium felt Future's Vision, his Mark II Defender special transport frigate, launch into hyperspace, leaving the Tython system behind.

For the second time in two generations, the Jedi were headed into exile.

Right on schedule. The Mirialan Jedi Master thought to himself as his wrist communicator beeped. He automatically toggled the control switch to receive.  

“All the other ships have reported in, Master Jedi.” Felix Iresso reported from the pilot’s seat of the Future’s Vision’s bridge. “Green board for everyone. I know we paid a heck of a price to get off Tython, but the evac fleet managed to make it out clean.”

Ulannium forced himself to smile approvingly despite the dire situation.

“Excellent work, Felix.” Despite him amicable words, his voice sounded strained even to his own ears. “I’ll let you know when we have coordinates for the next jump.”

“Got it.” the former Republic officer acknowledged. “Hey, get some rest, okay, boss? You sound like you need it. Felix out.”

With that, the communicator deactivated, leaving the Mirialan Jedi Master alone with his thoughts.

It’s done.

They had successfully evacuated the remnants of the Jedi Order from Tython… but as Felix had said, the cost had been astronomical. Nalen Raloch, Bengel Morr and so many others had sacrificed themselves to make good their escape.

Ulannium could only hope that their sacrifices had not been in vain.

So many choices. Ulannium thought to himself. So many sacrifices for so such meager gains. So many have fallen just to take us to this sorry state as refugees, and to leave our responsibilities to the rest of the galaxy behind.

Master Gnost-Dural, the Lore Keeper of the Jedi Archives, had revealed their final destination to no one, not even to Ulannium, the Barsen’thor of the Order and Dural’s sole remaining active colleague from the council. But he had promised them all that he had found a place for the surviving Jedi to withdraw. To regroup. To heal. To study. And to train.

A place where they could learn how to be Jedi again.

It was a tempting offer given the horrors they had just escaped and the multitude of misfortunes that had befallen the Jedi in the past year. Ulannium had no reason to question the aged Kel Dor’s sincerity that he could provide such a sanctuary.

He only wished that he could complete that journey with him. Inducted into the Order at the age of six, Ulannium had spent almost his entire life working towards this point. His accomplishments by the age of thirty-two had been remarkable in the eyes of everyone. Friends, allies, even enemies.

Now, in the aftermath of this disaster, he was about to throw it all away.

Letting out an exhale, Ulannium turned away from the holo-terminal and walked down the corridor to the passenger compartment, his slight build easily cutting around the excess of people and supply crates packed into the corridors. He knew full well that Future’s Vision – the last ship to lift off Tython – was practically overflowing with survivors from the evacuation.

The galaxy behind them had already begun to feel the Jedi’s absence. Word had reached them just before the evacuation that Coruscant was being blockaded by yet another flotilla of Eternal Fleet ships. He knew such circumstances would devastate a planet like the Republic capital world where untold billions of people lived. Even with its extensive network of underground microorganism farms, his home planet relied heavily on the surplus of at least twenty agricultural worlds to fulfill their daily food needs. Even with rationing, people would be starving within days.

Ulannium’s appeals to Chancellor Saresh to seek an armistice with the Sith Empire so they could focus on the mutual threat of Zakuul had all been rejected out of hand. As had everyone else’s.  

Another failure. He privately lamented. The people of the Republic, and the galaxy, were paying for the failures of the council. And of Ulannium.

He wondered what his parents – killed during the last Sack of Coruscant nearly twenty years before – would think of him now.

Would they have been proud? Would they have been ashamed? Would they regret sending their Force-sensitive son to the Jedi in the first place? Or would they have logically reasoned that he would have almost certainly died along with them and his sister on Coruscant during the bombardment if he had stayed?       

Ulannium wished he knew.

As he passed among the dozens of Jedi packed into the cargo bay, his eyes caught sight of Denielle offering comfort to a Republic soldier who’d been wounded in the arm during the evacuation. The medical bay was too small to support this many wounded, so the Jedi – and a handful of others who had joined them – were making due where they could. To that end, the young Zeltron had been knighted only two days ago, just before the attack on Tython had begun. Her ‘Jedi trials’ had been Zakuulan invasion these last few months. Despite her youth, she had done the order proud. Still, she had been forced to grow up far too quickly.

All of us were. Ulannium thought silently to himself, reflecting on his own life. He’d been born into a galaxy at war that had culminated with the death of his family, and he couldn’t deny those events had shaped him.

Putting those thoughts aside, the young Jedi Master pressed on, finally reaching the medical bay. He, too, should have been assisting in the healing efforts, despite his fatigue. Most likely, with so many losses in the last few years, he was one of the most skilled Jedi in Force healing remaining. Those with his gift were in high demand.

But right at this moment, he had an unpleasant task to accomplish first.  

Now standing in the doorway to the med bay, Ulannium gazed into the cramped chamber, where the most grievously injured were being treated.  

It was then that he saw her.

Nadia was hard at work assisting Archiban “Doc” Kimble in treating yet another one of the wounded evacuee. Her personal healing technique was unrefined, but her dedication and her compassion were serving her well in this role as a de facto nurse.

Nadia Grell. Jedi Knight.

Even now, three years later, the very notion filled him with pride.

Looking downward, Ulannium recognized the injured Jedi they were treating as Laranna Fain. The veteran Jedi Guardian and the daughter of Master Duras Fain had long since recovered from her experiences aboard the Carida years ago when she’d slain many innocents while under the sway of Lord Vivicar and his ‘Dark Plague’. Ulannium, with the aid of Tharan Cedrax, had ultimately shielded her from the dark lord’s influence, setting her on a path of recovery.

Another memory. He thought to himself. Another of my great ‘victories’.

Those so-called victories all tasted so hollow now. Laranna Fain might survive this day, but so many others had fallen.

People like Nalen Raloch.

Despite the intense circumstances, Ulannium found himself admiring Nadia as she worked. Even working past the point of exhausting and concentrating on her work so intently with a furrowed brow, she was as beautiful as ever.

Nadia had come so far since he had met her all those years ago. Given her age and the tragic death of her father, most would have expected it would have taken her a decade or longer to have earned her place as a Jedi Knight. She’d easily beaten that estimate, achieving her Knighthood just over a year after becoming his Padawan. During the last few days, she had served magnificently in aiding the evacuation, leading a series of pre-emptive strikes against Zakuulan positions before assisting Gnost-Dural and Ulannium in extracting the Jedi Archives from the Temple. Her combat outfit, inspired by that worn by Satele Shan, was lightly damaged with frayed edges and burn marks, but Ulannium was satisfied that Nadia herself was uninjured.

Satele…

Grand Master Satele Shan, leader of the Jedi Order for more than a decade and their champion in the first great war against the Sith, had fallen out of contact with them five days ago during their evacuation preparations, claiming to have a formulated a plan to stall the Eternal Fleet’s attack. Her final communique had been to effectively recognize Ulannium and Gnost-Dural as the Order’s leaders, and to advise them to continue their plans. Ulannium could only assume her delaying tactic had succeeded; the assault had come two days later than he’d expected based on his calculations. Regardless of whether Satele had sacrificed herself or not, her efforts had likely saved countless lives.

He wondered if the real reason she’d left had been because the order was abandoning Tython, the world she herself had once led the rediscovery and resettlement of after the signing of the Treaty of Coruscant years prior. Publicly, Satele, Ulannium and the council had presented a united front. To the order and to the Republic.

Privately, they’d had their differences. Ulannium had pressured into implementing several reforms that had no doubt rankled the more ‘traditionally minded’ among the Jedi. Despite their challenging relationship, Ulannium now regretted that he’d left things with Satele the way he had. He had never expected to feel her absence so acutely. He certainly had never wanted her title or her job.

The burden of leadership wore heavily upon him, considering Satele was not the only member of the Council to have ‘departed’ recently.

Bela Kiwiiks and her apprentice, the Sith Pureblood known as Praven, had been transporting a small group of Jedi younglings to Tython from an auxiliary enclave to join their coming exodus. Since her retirement from active field duty, the Togruta Jedi Master had been most active in nurturing and protecting the Order’s youngest recruits. When their ship had been cut off from Tython as a result of the fighting, Kiwiiks had sent an encoded transmission to inform them that she and her immediate charges were safe, but she’d decided that they would not be joining the Order on their retreat into exile. Kiwiiks gave assurances that she had a plan for the younglings’ survival and education. True to form, she had finished her message with the ubiquitous ‘May the Force be With You’.

Ulannium had been concerned with her plan and had proposed a search and retrieval mission. Gnost-Dural, however, had declared himself satisfied.

“She must find her own path, both for herself and her young charges.” The Jedi Archivist reminded him at the time. “Besides, there are many more younglings here on Tython who we are responsible for.”

The implications of Dural’s words were not lost on Ulannium. Wherever they were headed, Dural was clearly not expecting this to be a brief exile. The Jedi needed to preserve their future. For an order of beings who strongly discouraged traditional sexual reproduction among their numbers, that meant they needed to bring the children with them so the Jedi would have someone to teach. Just as Ulannium had been taught so many years ago as a child on Uphrades.

Other Jedi Council members had gone missing or had given their lives in the faltering defense of the Republic, with the most heroic sacrifice coming less than an hour before by Master Oteg. The Jedi admiral and the last of his fleet had given their lives against the Zakuulans to cover the Jedi’s escape into hyperspace.

Though Syo Bakarn hadn’t been on the council in years, Ulannium had also felt the absence of his old mentor. He’d not been able to visit with him in person; despite his title of Barsen’thor and his place on the Council, Ulannium had accepted that he need not know where he withdrawn to after their confrontation on Corellia years before, when the First Son had been defeated. The Jedi Master had deserved his peace. Instead, they had exchanged encrypted messages from time to time, but even these had become infrequent once the Zakuulans had invaded. The risk of interception had been too great; the time too short.

He now wished he had written one more letter to Master Syo. He wished he had sought his wisdom once again, if only for the last time.

Ulannium and Gnost-Dural were – effectively – all that remained of the once-vaunted Jedi Council, supposedly the wisest Jedi in all the galaxy. And they had been reduced to leading a group of beleaguered refugees into hiding while the rest of the galaxy suffered.

As a Jedi Master, Ulannium fully understood the futility of dwelling on the past as he was. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but think about what might have been. He had lost so many friends over the years, either through diverging pathways or – more often – those allies becoming one with the Force.

He remembered Hallow Voice, the leader of the free Esh-kha, who had proclaimed him Sky-hunter. He had led his people into exile after the defeat on Ord Mantell; Ulannium could not fault them for their choice. The Esh-kha had fought and bled for the Republic. He hoped his old friend still lived, and that he was leading his people in peace.

He remembered Gaden-Ko, the Voss Mystic, who had joined with the Rift Alliance to learn more about the galaxy, and perhaps about himself. Despite holding a position of leadership amongst his people, the young Force-sensitive had viewed so many things with an innocence of youth that Ulannium had found refreshing. He had been a delight to teach. But when Voss itself came under the threat of the Eternal Empire, Gaden-Ko had regretfully withdrawn his commandoes from the Alliance, taking them back to Voss. Zakuul’s effective interdict on that world would have prevented any further communications, and Ulannium could only hope his former protégé and ally was well.

But even more deeply than those two, Ulannium missed his old crew.

Holiday had departed not long before the war with Zakuul had begun. With her enhanced capabilities, she’d wanted to fully explore herself and she couldn’t do that from their ship. Ulannium had been sorry to see her go, but he recognized that new experiences were critical to personal growth, and he’d been impressed when Tharan had given her his blessing as well.

After months of opposing the invasion alongside the crew, Tharan Cedrax had finally left, claiming to have been offered an opportunity to research technologies that would turn the tide against the Eternal Fleet. In truth, Tharan had seemed to go adrift without Holiday in his life, becoming more withdrawn. Privately, Ulannium suspected the scientist had been drinking to excess. He knew there were things his old friend wasn’t telling him but accepted that – like Holiday – Tharan had to make his own path. Ulannium could only hope that path had led Tharan to himself.

Like Gaden-Ko, Zenith had departed when his home planet was threatened, returning to Balmorra. The industrial world, like so many others, was under siege to the Eternal Empire, and the former guerilla fighter seemed eager to resume his old trade in light of “Republic ineffectiveness”. Ulannium had always known the Twi’lek revolutionary would put his home ahead of the rest of the galaxy and so he was not surprised. Although they’d been very different people, the Jedi wondered if perhaps it had been Ulannium who hadn’t learned enough from that association.

Qyzen Fess had been one of his closest friends and allies since before Ulannium had even been named a Jedi Knight back on Tython all those years ago. In addition to Qyzen’s exceptional abilities as a tracker and fighter, Ulannium had learned much about weighing the value of traditions against the need for every people to change and adapt from the old Trandoshan hunter. He wished they’d remained together for longer, but once it became clear the Jedi order’s priority was to preserve its existence, Qyzen had regretfully made his exit.

“Many points to be earned for the Scorekeeper fighting Zakuulans, Herald.” He had declared. “Even in dark times, we must still be hunters.”

Part of Ulannium found himself agreeing with Qyzen. But even the Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order had been unable to find a way to turn the tide against Zakuul’s onslaught.

These departures had reduced his old crew down to two.

Lieutenant Felix Iresso had gone years without promotion despite a multitude of accomplishments, commendations and medals. Apparently, Republic command had a long memory concerning Felix’s memory loss, even in times when experienced field officers were in short supply. The soldier had proven his loyalty many times over, finally refusing orders to transfer him to the frontlines so he could remain by Ulannium’s side. He had effectively gone AWOL from the Republic military, and had matters been less chaotic, he’d have risked arrest in the Republic. He’d sacrificed everything for Ulannium and the Jedi because he believed they needed him the most.

And he’d been right.

Inevitably, Ulannium’s thoughts circled back to Nadia, even as he watched her treat more patients.

Even early in their association, he had recognized his feelings for her. Her innocence, her intelligence, her beauty and her determination to do the right thing all spoke to him in a way he couldn’t put into words. Naturally, as a Jedi - and as Nadia’s master - he had doggedly resisted those thoughts. He’d spent hours meditating on his dilemma, attempting to analyze the situation logically. Senator Tobas Grell had entrusted his daughter’s safety and training to him, and to him alone. Were it otherwise, he would have had her placed with a new Jedi Master, one who would not experience such complications.

So Ulannium had held fast and true.

… Until the moment that Nadia herself - minutes after being Knighted - had pressed her lips to his. From that moment forward the dam had burst and his famous stoic Jedi resolve was lost.

It had taken the two of them a long time to find their feet again. Once they had, he could not imagine his existence without Nadia in it.

There had been no formal ceremony to mark their wedding a year later; simply an exchange of vows in the custom of Nadia’s people. Ulannium had not added to his Mirialan tattoos since he’d been a child; but for the first time since he could remember, he’d wanted to mark his body to declare himself hers. To celebrate their love and joining. He had not, of course. Doing so would have resulted in expulsion from the order for the both of them. But the thought had never completely escaped him.

He didn’t know how he would have made it through the last few months - or the last few days - without Nadia’s strength and support behind him.

Reassuring as Nadia had been to him, however, Ulannium found his thoughts drifting to his old friend, Corellan Halcyon.

Believed killed at the start of the war with Zakuul, the Order, the Republic and – perhaps! – the galaxy itself had sorely missed the Hero of Tython’s presence.

Ulannium knew that he certainly had.

The Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order had long heard the whispers around the temple on Tython concerning his own path. They whispered that he was the best Jedi of his generation. They whispered that his knowledge of the Force was unprecedented for one so young. They whispered that his leadership and diplomatic talents were without equal. They whispered that if Ulannium had not already been serving as Barsen’thor, it would have been he and not Gnost-Dural who would have been tasked with preserving the Jedi Archives.

Some had even (quietly) whispered that one day, he, Ulannium Kaarz, would succeed Master Satele as the Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

But for all of those accolades, he was not Corellan Halcyon.

Ulannium Kaarz may have been the ‘model Jedi’ of his generation. It had been centuries since a younger Jedi than himself had been named to the Council.

But Corellan had been their champion. Their hero. The great warrior who had always found a way to pull victory from the jaws of defeat so that the order and the Republic could survive one more day. He had been the one who would never give up, no matter the odds.

Ulannium hadn’t felt Corellan’s death during the attack on Darth Marr’s expedition fleet less than a year ago. Given their shared history and their connection through the Force, that detail had surprised him and had even given him cause to hope. But as each defeat against the Eternal Empire had driven the Jedi and Republic back, that hope had slowly evaporated. Knowing Corellan as he did, there was no chance whatsoever he would simply sit the war out in quiet retirement while the galaxy burned. He certainly could not sense him anywhere in the galaxy through the Force.

No. His friend – his oldest friend – was almost certainly dead.

He remembered that time they’d shared drinks at the cantina on Carrick station. It had been a few months after their joint operation against Darth Malgus at Ilum and they’d found a few minutes to reminisce on their shared childhoods on Uphrades, and on the strange turns their lives had taken since then. Corellan had – with an eloquence that Ulannium would have once thought beyond him back when he’d been an awkward youth – explained how much Ulannium had inspired him back when they’d been younglings.  

“It meant the galaxy to me, Ulannium.” The Hero of Tython had concluded. “The meditations, the studying, all of it. It helped me apply myself to something other than lightsaber training.”

The human had smiled across the table at the Mirialan.

“I’m a better Jedi today because of you.”

Ulannium had blinked at this revelation, then sipped his own drink. Taking a moment before setting the glass down, he looked back at Corellan, his bright green eyes looking into Corellan’s pale blues. If he’d ever questioned whether their friendship had survived into adulthood, those had been answered this day.

“I’m a better person today because of you.” He answered.

It had been in Corellan’s memory that Ulannium had persuaded the Jedi to take in Doctor Kimble when he’d contacted them. The field medic had been a member of Corellan’s crew before the Hero of Tython’s death, and Ulannium felt there was little question that such medical expertise would be sorely needed. “Doc”, as he was called, had indeed proven himself an asset to the Jedi and Nadia had only had to have a word with him once about flirting with female members of the order. Since then, he’d been impeccably professional. Ulannium - who hadn’t heard about the situation until after the fact - had decided to take the situation as a measure of Nadia’s growing talent for conflict resolution.  

Looking back now, Ulannium fervently wished he had been a better friend to Corellan. The interests of the Order had required that he’d made several… questionable decisions over the years, some of them indirectly impacting the young Jedi Battlemaster. Ulannium would like to have told himself he had done so due to necessity; that the war effort against the Sith Empire – combined with the mistakes of others – had prevented him from acting as a friend ought to have. But… no. That was the trap the generation of Jedi before him had fallen into. Satele Shan, Bela Kiwiiks, Jaric Kaedan and Syo Bakarn… each had achieved remarkable, even legendary feats as Jedi. Each had ultimately fallen short of upholding the ideals of the Jedi because of various forms of self-delusion. They had managed to convince themselves that whatever actions happened to benefit themselves and their fellows also benefitted the order and the Republic.

Ulannium refused to repeat their mistakes. He would face the consequences of his actions with open eyes.

In the unlikely event that he did see Corellan again – whether in this life or in the next as part of the Force – Ulannium promised himself that he would tell his old friend everything.

Even if the price of those confessions was their friendship.

As he continued to stand at the entrance of the med bay, Ulannium reflected on everything he’d accomplished to get to this point, and everyone he’d lost.

He didn’t know if it had been worth it. He wondered if he ever would.

Ulannium gave one last glance at Nadia where she was still helping Doc treat the wounded. As if sensing his presence, the young Sarkhai glanced up and caught his look. She gave him a reassuring smile and nodded to him in understanding.

Nadia knew what he was about. They’d spent hours talking about it.

He knew he was about to destroy her future as well. All the work she had put in to becoming a Jedi Knight would be gone. Perhaps the royal family of Sarkhai would keep her on as a diplomat.

Yes, she had achieved the rank of Knight. But they had developed feelings for each other that could not be denied.

Ulannium had ultimately failed as her master.

Now, he was about to fail her as a husband.

Why she’d put up with him and all of his faults, he had no idea. But he knew he had to do this, and she had understood. They would have been unable to carry on as they had once their journey finished, not surrounded by so many other Jedi.

The timing of this was regrettable, but there’d been no question that the Jedi had needed them to successfully evacuate Tython. And if what Master Gnost-Dural had told them about their destination was any indication, they would be unable to move once they reached sanctuary: The security and secrecy of their safe-haven was too important.

It had to be now.

Ulannium gave Nadia a weak smile back, then turned and departed, making his way to the conference room.

“A Jedi serves truth.” Nowan Ko had instructed Ulannium and Corellan years ago, back on Uphrades. The Cathar Jedi Master had used a raft tied to the shore of the coastline of the line to help illustrate her point. “Be as diplomatic as you must. Show as much compassion and kindness as you can. Use deception consciously and strategically if there is no other choice. But remember that the truth is much like the rope, securing this raft.”

With that, she’d drawn her lightsaber and cut through the rope, letting the raft loose on the water. The small wooden craft had quickly been pulled out to sea.

“Once you cut away the truth, once you embrace the open waters of deception, you risk going adrift. Therefore, a Jedi should strive to always be honest.”

Ulannium had been living a lie for the last three years, if not longer.

Master Gnost-Dural certainly deserved to know the truth. No doubt wherever they were headed, he would have learned it sooner or later regardless.

Better to tell him now rather than guarantee discovery later. Ulannium had decided, some days ago when he’d discussed it with Nadia. Whatever his other regrets and mistakes, he could at least meet the end of his time as a Jedi with honesty.

Entering the hectic conference room, Ulannium saw his fellow councilor surrounded by younger Jedi giving reports on the evacuation.

At Dural’s side, standing stoically amidst the bustle, was Lerek Serrus. The former Sith Apprentice who Ulannium had first met during the liberation of Balmorra so many years before. After their confrontation and the death of Darth Lachris years before, the young man had willingly volunteered to join the order. Unlike Zenith, he’d elected to stay with the Jedi, even as the threat of Zakuul threatened his home world. Most recently, he appeared to have appointed himself as Gnost-Dural’s bodyguard. Based on what Ulannium had seen during the evacuation, the former Sith appeared to be doing an admirable job. Master Gnost-Dural was by no means weak, but nor was he the warrior he’d once been. It was a credit to Lerek’s protection that he appeared to have emerged from the fighting unscathed.  

As Ulannium observed the others, he reflected that there would be dozens if not hundreds of reports to sort through. From personnel assignments to remaining supplies to medical reports on the wounded. From his time leading the Rift Alliance to serving on the council, Ulannium was no stranger to the realities of administration or bureaucracy, but this task would prove to be herculean. As he’d been overseeing the fleet’s evacuation, the burden of overseeing the order’s immediate future had fallen on the older master.

Ulannium wished he wasn’t about to add to that burden.

“Master.” Ulannium approached and bowed to Gnost-Dural. “May I please speak with you privately?”

The Jedi Master looked up from his datapad and, after a moment, inclined his head at the request. Around them, it was as if the commotion of activity had suddenly been paused.

“Please excuse us, everyone.” Dural addressed the room. “See to the wounded, and then review the condition of our ships. We have far to go before we reach our destination, and we must ensure that we are not tracked.”

Reluctantly, the assembled Jedi collected their reports and departed. They all looked as tired as Ulannium felt, but they knew their duty. Lerek gave him a nod of respect as he departed, the last one out the door.

Finally alone, Gnost-Dural gestured for his counterpart to take a seat at the table. Ulannium had hosted summits and planned military operation from that very table, but today, he considered it Gnost-Dural’s by right.

“I’ve seen the initial reports.” The older Jedi Master offered, as he poured them each a mug of water from the small cistern on the table. “All things considered, the fact that we are alive at all is a testament not only to the sacrifices of those we lost, but to your leadership and planning as well. We did well to have evacuated so many within such a short window.”

Ulannium watched silently as the Kel Dor fixed the straw of his mask to drink, then sipped his own water.

“It’ll take us a long time to recover from this setback.” he considered, reflecting on his own time his coming of age in the years following the Sack of Coruscant. The Mirialan found he had a difficult time remaining positive given the dire situation. “A generation if not more.”

Dural seemed unfazed.

“Great challenges lay ahead of us to be sure, but do not be disheartened for the future. I have found a place where the Order can heal. And be born again.” He tilted his head. “Indeed. I sent your old Master ahead to prepare it for us.”

Ulannium raised an eyebrow. He had not seen Yuon Parr since before the Eternal Empire’s invasion. Indeed, he’d feared she’d been killed defending some forgotten archaeological dig. He felt a sense of relief to know that she was still alive.

That led to another regret. When he and Nadia departed, he’d be denied the chance to meet with his old master again, and any future communication would almost certainly be out of the question.

“I appreciate that more than I can tell you, Master.” Ulannium answered weakly. “But this is not why I asked to speak with you.”

The Jedi archivist paused for a long moment, setting down his mug and inclining his head again.

“Of course. I assume you wished to inform me about your covert relationship with your former Padawan?”

Ulannium blinked, then felt his jaw drop open as he processed the Jedi Master’s words.

“You…” he stopped himself, hastily taking a sip of water from his glass and swallowing. “You knew?”

Like all members of his species living away from their home world of Dorin, Master Gnost-Dural wore an antiox breath-mask with protective goggles just to survive the atmosphere of other worlds and artificial environments such as ships. This meant discerning anything from his facial expressions was nearly impossible, even to one attuned to the Force. But in this exact moment, Ulannium had the distinct impression of wry amusement coming from the wizened Kel Dor.

“I am old, Master Ulannium.” he answered. “I am neither dead nor blind.”

It took all the stoicism Ulannium had developed over his thirty-two years of life to compose himself.

“You didn’t say anything.” he pressed. “We’ve been preparing for this day for weeks, and you never exposed us.”

Dural made a dismissive wave of his hand.

“There were other priorities.” he offered by way of explanation. “I imagine others may suspect, but if so no one has said anything to me.”

The Mirialan chewed that over. Ulannium always imagined they’d been discreet, but now uncertainty threatened to overtake him. He resolved to stay the course.

“Then you understand why I have to leave.” he finally forced out the words of regret.  

Gnost-Dural took up his mug again, taking a slow draw through his straw.

“You believe that you and Knight Grell must depart the fleet, so as not to compromise yourselves any further.”

The Jedi master’s choice of words gave Ulannium pause.

“How could I do otherwise?” he insisted. “If we allowed this connection for all Jedi, what then? The order can’t operate like that. And if we did make an exception, then I’d be a hypocrite.”  

Ulannium took in a breath and then slowly let it out.

“And I… I cannot let her go, Master. I know it goes against our Code, but it is not within me to sever our bond. I fought against it for too long.”

Gnost-Dural simply sat across from him, regarding his younger colleague for a long moment.

“I am aware of your predicament, Master Ulannium. That is why I am asking that you stay.” He sipped through his straw again. “I cannot formally condone what you’ve done, true, but I refuse to condemn it.”

Ulannium blinked again.

“But why? I am a failure.”

The Jedi archivist set his mug down.

“You are nothing of the sort. I have seen enough of your conduct to satisfy myself, and the Order needs you, Master Ulannium.” Gnost-Dural emphasized his title. “It needs your leadership. And someday, when the time comes, the rest of the galaxy will need you again, as well. I’m getting too old for this sort of thing. I have no intention of continuing this venture without you at my side.”

He picked up a datapad, regarding it. From what Ulannium could see, it was a report on the fighting before the final withdrawal.

“You made the right decisions during the evacuation of Tython, difficult though they must have been.” He continued. “I have seen you send Knight Grell – and other personal associates of yours as well – into danger, all while knowing some of them would not return. You have accomplished what few Jedi are capable of; yes, you have attachments, but you mind those attachments, so they do not control you.”

Dural set the pad back down.

“I have no doubt in your ability to continue to lead wisely – and objectively – moving forward.”

The Kel Dor folded his clawed fingers together in contemplation.

“Though as you’ve indicated, not every Jedi is capable of your mindfulness. I fear many if not most would inevitably falter if put to the test. So in the future, I would ask that you and Knight Grell maintain a certain level of decorum while in public so as not to set a difficult precedent with the others.”  Dural continued to refer to Nadia by her formal title, a fact that wasn’t lost on Ulannium. “And as you say, if we allowed everyone this indulgence, our cohesion would crumble.”

The Mirialan Jedi Master felt a blush come to his cheeks; suddenly feeling like an adolescent. Given that during his own time as a ‘model youngling’ he’d never been scolded for anything more nefarious than reading after bedtime, it was a new experience to him.

“I… understand.” He finally answered. “Thank you, Master.”

Ulannium was startled at how relieved he felt. For all the losses he had suffered of late and the challenges that lay ahead of him, a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“How can I ever thank you for your kindness and understanding?”

Gnost-Dural reached across the table and lightly patted Ulannium’s arm reassuringly.

“When the time comes, return it to someone else who needs it.”

Taking a moment, he refilled both of their glasses.

“Now tell me, Master Ulannium.” The Jedi Archivist queried. “How did we come to this point?”

END

Author’s Notes: This story – the first chapter in a new series – essentially picks up where one of my previous works – This Moment , ends.

Like Corellan, Ulannium is primarily a light-side character. Unlike Corellan, however, making the “Paragon” choices in the game doesn’t always come naturally to him. To borrow a Dungeons & Dragons term, Ulannium primarily falls into the ‘Lawful Neutral’ alignment. Simply put, he’s working out of a rulebook. When he makes the light-side choice, he does so because the Jedi Code guides him to it. His relationship with Nadia obviously conflicted him for a long time, something I hope to expand on in future installments of this series.

In case it wasn’t clear, this story is canon-divergent where it comes to the pacing of the Jedi Consular-Nadia Grell romance. As written in the game, I find it problematic on many levels. This series based around Ulannium will hopefully address much of that. (Look at that. Here I am writing fix-it fic.) To that end, I’m tagging @walk-ng-saster, who expressed similar sentiments. More of that another time, but on a related note, Nadia should have been recognized as a Jedi Knight sometime before KOTFE, and that is a hill I will die upon.

Regardless of the Legacy in question, I’m intrigued at the idea of the Outlander’s absence during the five-year gap having a dramatic effect on everyone else, including the other class original characters in the player’s legacy. I’ve already written a bit about how Bas’riish, my smuggler, dealt with Corellan being absent. (Click here to read Three Years .)

Now it’s Ulannium’s turn.

I disliked Felix’s Alliance Alert return after Knights of the Eternal Throne. Torturing and traumatizing a character just to make them more interesting is a privilege I reserve for my own characters, thank you very much. So I’m fixing that in my work.

If it wasn’t obvious, Ulannium, Nadia and Gnost-Dural are all headed to Ossus. That’s one of the reasons why you all get a Doc cameo. (Doc is still Doc, but I’m confident Nadia can keep him in line.)

The Jedi Knight and the Jedi Consular are leading vastly different lives during the class stories; in the case of the Hero of Tython, their ship is crewed by a small, intimate group of mismatched personalities. With the Barsen’thor, you do get the mismatched personalities but there are so many supporting characters, it feels like a General Assembly of the United Nations in there. On that note, many jokes have been made about the sheer number of people who ocmugy the Barsen’thor’s ship, and that it seems far too small to be sustainable. I’ve even heard some Doctor Who Tardis references. I head-canon that although the ship follows the same aesthetics as the standard Defender freighter from the Jedi Knight story, it’s actually a much larger vessel with considerable transport capacity, similar to the vessel we see under Jaesa Willsaam’s control during chapter one of the Sith Warrior story, where you wind up fighting (or trolling) a pair of Jedi Knights sent by Nomen Karr.    

I’ve spoken about what happens to Bela Kiwiiks and Praven in my story before.

Many interesting supporting characters appear during the Jedi Consular story who just seem to quickly fade into the background without any satisfying resolution. This frustrates me, and I think is one of the reasons I consider the canon story a waste of potential. To address this, some of those characters appear here.

I’ve spoken about Nalen Raloch before.We never hear from him again aside from a letter you get after leaving Tython.

Laranna Fain makes an appearing here after her introduction in the first chapter of the Jedi Consular story. You cure (or kill) her father on Nar Shaddaa before thwarting (by curing or killing) Laranna on that Republic transport ship in-between planets. We never get a follow-up concerning Laranna and her recovery, which is unfortunate.    

Another example of this is Lerek Serrus, who appears on Balmorra in chapter two of the Jedi Consular story; he’s a Sith Apprentice protégé of Darth Lachris you encounter. He’s memorable first for being a native Balmorran, and second for the fact that if you take the light-side dialogue options, you can talk him into walking away from the fight and re-examining his life choices. Like Laranna, we never hear what happens to Lerek if he lives in the game-story. I try to give him a resolution here.

Yuon Par gets a mention in this piece. She is completely discarded after chapter one of the game story, and by the end, some players assume that Syo Bakarn was the character’s Jedi Master the whole time. That’s a shame because she’s such a fun and quirky character. That’s no disrespect to Syo, who is obviously mentioned in this chapter and who I intend to follow up on.

Master Oteg isn’t Consular specific, but he’s certainly memorable from the The Maelstrom Prison flashpoint. I was sad to give him an ending, but I had this planned for a long time.

I may reintroduce more supporting characters in further chapters.

Nadia is wearing a variant of Satele Shan’s armor set from the game. More on that here.

I’ve mentioned the Uphrades enclave before. The planet appears in the Jedi Knight class story, but the Jedi presence on it was my own creation. Hopefully, I’ll actually get to show some it to you in the future.

The game story canonizes that the Jedi Consular is a Force-healer, even if they are a Jedi Shadow.

Gnost-Dural’s “I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.” line is an Easter egg to Obi-Wan’s line to Luke in A New Hope. Love me some Alec Guinness.

Fun fact – George Lucas based the concept of Coruscant on the planet Trantor from Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series. That’s where I drew the references for micro-organism farms and the twenty agricultural worlds and so on. The logistics involved in supplying such a planet are staggering, a reality touched on in the game story with the Mandalorian Blockade during the first war and after Uphrades destruction at the hands of the Darth Angral and the Planet Prison superweapon in the Jedi Knight class story.

Denielle appears in two of my earlier stories: Training Day and Incomplete. No Tyzen Pyne here, unfortunately, but I will hopefully be covering what he’s been up to in the near future.

Tagging interested parties! @actualanxiousswampwitch​ @anchanted-one​ @cassthechaoticmercenary​ @cryo-lily​ @cuchulainnx19​ @davidoodles​ @eorzeashan​ @exlibrisastra​ @grandninjamasterren​ @kemendin​ @kindredsembrace @lonewolfel​ @lordviridis​ @magicallulu7​ @nekorinnie​ @nyrialydia @shabre-legacy​ @shynmighty​ @space-unicorn-dottaraum @vihola​ @wackyart​ @walk-ng-saster @war-of-wrath​ @swtorhub​

#swtor fanfiction #swtor fanfic #swtor #swtorpadawan writes #how we came to this point #a consular’s path #oc: ulannium kaarz #the halcyon legacy #my writing #writeblr #nadia grell #jedi consular #barsen’thor #oc: denielle #Qyzen Fess #tharan cedrax #holiday #holiday swtor #gnost-dural #gnost dural #syo bakarn #satele shan #yuon par #felix iresso #lieutenant felix iresso #lieutenant iresso #oc: corellan halcyon #tobas grell #senator grell #lerek serrus

[mauls-fair-in-love-and-war]

Star Wars: The Old Republic: Annihilation: A Terrible Summary

Hi my name is Theron Shan and I have brown hair and brown eyes and pale skin and cybernetic implants around my left eye and right ear-

Theron Shan is not a Jedi. You will be reminded of this twenty times

Theron gets jumped by another SIS agent and proceeds to ruin an entire operation

Theron attempts to jump about 30 feet horizontally. He doesn’t make it and climbs up a building like Spider-Man

Theron steals a swoop bike and gets in a high-speed chase with a gang. Everyone claps.

Drug smugglers use an engine as a shield. It explodes.

The Dark Council is racist

Darth Marr possesses the only brain cell in the Sith Empire

Cabinet Man battleship?

Two Sith put more energy into fighting each other than the Republic. It’s amazing the Sith Empire lasted even this long

Office work is a circle of Hell

Theron Shan is good at what he does. It’s not usually his job though

“I think I’m your father” “what the fuck.”

Theron follows a drunk man into the bathroom and subsequently gets his teeth knocked out

Theron scales the side of a building to break into Jedi Grandmaster Satele Shan’s apartment, even though the door was unlocked and he was invited. He leaves the same way

I’m no Jedi. Like my father before me

Jace Malcom violates the Geneva Convention

Theron pretends to be shitfaced to get out of trouble. This plan works a few times actually

Teff’ith says acab?

“Why are you in your underwear?” “Why are you in your underwear?”

Theron Shan and Master Gnost-Dural emerge from an escape pod to cheers. They are both still (basically) naked

#obligatory yea obviously this is an oversimplification #just finished it though 10/10 #swtor #Star Wars #star wars the old republic #Theron shan #swtor Theron #Star Wars annihilation

[queen-scribbles]

I still firmly hold that all my Imp Commanders advocate taking Gnost Dural prisoner and then they and Theron bust him out.

#queen in space #you can’t change my mind #swtor #ESPECIALLY the ones who *married* theron

[anchanted-one]

Book of Storms: The Legend of Vajra

Chapter 5: Morr Trouble

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/108894615

Early The Next day

“Good morning, fellow Masters. I appreciate so many of you showing up on such short notice.”

Vajra heard Kira snort. It was just Masters Orgus, Satele, Kaedan, Kiwiiks, and Gnost. Even Master Gnost’s Apprentice wasn’t here. Kira had looked quite displeased at having to wake up even earlier than she’d expected. She was something of a late riser, she confided in Vajra.

“Master Kiwiiks reported what they found in Keleth yesterday. A Khrayii that could use the Force, and the ancient Holocron she found among them. She thought they were getting their knowledge from this repository. I wish that were true. I’m sure most of us remember T7-01? He served nobly with Master Ven Zallow for almost fifteen years. He was by his side during the Sack of Coruscant and helped us recover some of the bodies. He has given us vital information yet again. He gave me a disc of his memories during his capture. Upon reviewing it thoroughly, I was able to confirm my worst fears. The Khrayii are led by someone I thought had been killed on Coruscant. My former Padawan, Bengel Morr.” Master Orgus had to close his eyes for a second, and swallow back strong emotions. He took a deep breath before continuing. “It is clear that he trained the Rogue Jedi Vajra fought that first day. A man he called Callef. I checked the records, and there was a ‘Callef’ brought in days before the Sack. He was one of many presumed dead, just like Bengel. I do not know how they survived, but they were the ones who got their hands on those blasters. They’re the ones who armed and trained the Khrayii, and sicced them on both, the Kalikori, and us. Why, I do not know. We only have testimony of Callef’s words. What he called a ‘cleansing’. Perhaps they intend to reforge the Jedi order. Perhaps they believed we failed that day on Coruscant.”

“There are many who believe that,” Master Satele sighed. “Even among our own numbers.”

“Why’s that?” Vajra whispered to Kira.

“Because there were only around twenty Jedi Knights in the Temple. The rest were Padawans and younglings. The bulk of the Jedi had been ordered off-world by our glorious leaders. If anyone was responsible, it was the Senate. And the Chancellor.”

“Come to think about it, I don’t know much about the Sack. Only that it ended the last war. And that the Republic got Coruscant back.”

“Well… it was pretty despicable. The Sith called for a truce, and for a summit on Alderaan. The Jedi Council warned them against it, but many important Senators were happy to go along with it. They wanted peace. Trouble is, they took huge escorts with them. Jedi, soldiers, ships. All from the Coruscant defense. It was like they never dreamed the Sith could be duplicitous. And sure enough, the Sith invaded. They focused on the Temple, and Senate. But they gained orbital superiority, so the whole galaxy knew they could be bombed any time we made the Sith angry. So, the Sith were able to hold a trillion souls hostage. And force humiliating terms upon the Republic. The mastermind behind the operation was one Darth Angral—”

“I’ve heard of that man. One of the ‘butchers of Coruscant’.”

“Yeah. A Captain named Rycus Kilran helped him execute it. Got made Grand Moff for it. There were others on the ground, of course. Darth Malgus led the assault on the Temple personally. He was given the fearsome title of ‘Bane of the Jedi’.”

“He killed one great Jedi, but many were Padawans, right? I wonder if he’s really that tough. I can beat him.”

“Are you fucking serious? He was on the same level as Master Satele in her prime!”

“You know I can take her, right?”

Kira looked at him, mouth agape. “Where’s this sudden pride coming from? Just remember kid, not all fights are the same. You can take on an army of Flesh Raiders, that’s awesome. You can defeat Masters on the sparring field. Fantastic! But real battle with a full Sith Lord is something else entirely! Do not ever underestimate those sick fucks. They fight dirty, they use the Force to do crazy things, and they are powerful when they go berserk.”

“I remember; I saw Darth Bellicose in action. I am confident that as I am, I could crush him if I were to meet him today.”

“Damn. Wish I had your confidence!”

“Still, you’re probably right. Bellicose wasn’t Malgus. And perhaps even Master Orgus can beat me in a real battle.”

Was that a tinge of sarcasm coloring his voice? No, certainly not! “I’m glad you’re coming to your senses. You become something else when we talk pure combat, you know that?”

“Sorry.”

“I kinda like it actually. Pride befitting your skill. Better than false humility. Do you think you can make your default mode closer to this?”

“Done. But only with you, my secretly evil master.”

She chuckled. “Still, if you want to go after the big fish, try the smaller ones first. And toss me an invite. I wanna see how you actually fare against a Sith. And if you’re in over your head, I can be backup.”

“Okay!”

“Bengel is my responsibility,” Master Orgus said. “But I acknowledge that I am compromised in this matter. If anyone wants the matter of the Khrayii to be transferred to someone else, I will step aside. That concludes what I wanted to discuss.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Master Kaedan said gruffly. “You’re a Master. One of the Council. I trust you can do what you have to.”

“At the very least, I trust my new Padawan to have my back.” Orgus smiled at Vajra.

“He needs training,” Kiwiiks protested. “Not physical training, of course. After having seen him in action, I’m certain he could defeat most threats the galaxy has to offer. It’s his readiness that I speak of.”

“I will, of course, work with him on that. I promise you that I will not put him in danger again unless I am certain he can handle it.”

“That’s noble of you,” Master Kaedan said. “But do not have too much faith in him. I can see how soft his mind is. Unprepared.”

“That was uncalled for, Master Kaedan,” Orgus protested. “I feel compelled to remind you of a certain someone who used to cry every time I took his saber away and told him it was past time for bed.”

All the Masters kept straight faces, but Kira openly laughed. Even T7 made an approximation of raucous laughter. Kaedan glared at both her and Master Orgus. “Fine, have your giggles. I’m talking about the next five months. Of course, he has a chance to become a splendid Jedi in thirty or forty years.”

“Is that what he thinks he is?” Kira whispered.

“Do not gamble the security of this sanctuary on one Padawan. That’s all I meant.”

“Noted.”

“Then this Council is decided,” Master Satele said. She sounded like she was fighting a bout of laughter. “Master Orgus will continue leading our defense against the Flesh Raiders. And against Bengel Morr. Vajra, you are in charge of the Kalikori defenses.”

“Me?”

“Yes. The villagers have learned to trust you. I am confident you can handle it without neglecting your training.”

“I’ll try, Master.”

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

“I don’t understand. How can you do something without trying?”

“What it means, my young Padawan, is that you can’t do things if you doubt yourself. Normally, whenever we say ‘I’ll try,’ instead of ‘consider it done!’ it means we harbor doubts in our hearts.”

Huh? What kind of logic was that? “That sounds…”

“You can do it, Padawan. Master Satele has full confidence in you.”

He shrugged. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

“Council adjourned,” Master Satele called, and everyone rose to leave.

“Nice and short, just the way I like it,” Kira whispered to Vajra. “Now, come on. Let’s grab some breakfast before Master Kiwiiks and I leave. I’ll show you that mix I promised.”

*

Bengel Morr stood in the nook above a roaring river. This world was peaceful. Calm. A perfect place for the Jedi to forget about the things that awaited them outside, in the galaxy. The Sith. The war. The many, many threats to the Republic. And the price of their failure. The spray from the rapids reached his skin, providing much needed moisture—for his headquarters was rather dry, and the water source was not something he could take a dip in without spoiling its potability.

“Master Bengel,” Tiari whispered. “The Raiders you sent to secure Keleth have all been killed.”

“Unfortunate. Replacing them will not be easy. If only the Jedi had shown this tenacity during the war.”

“There are so few Jedi in the Temple,” Doril said. “Fewer than a hundred Knights. Just a few of the Masters. I’d thought this would be easier. The ones on Coruscant just fell over when Malgus sneezed in their direction.”

“Is it a surprise that these primitive beasts are not Sith?”

“Well… since you put it that way…”

“Our work is going according to plan. The Order is being cleansed, just as we wished. The deadwood is whittled away, and the strongest shine forth. Like the boy who killed poor Callef. I’m told he was just a child, yet he alone accounted for almost ninety percent of our dead in that battle. And would his prowess have shone forth was it not for the event we orchestrated?”

“But… he killed Callef.”

“Yes. He owes us our friend’s life. Which means he has the option of joining us… or dying. I think we can persuade him to the former.”

“You would let Callef’s killer walk among us?” Tiari looked appalled. “Your apprentice? Your Lieutenant?”

“Remember our ultimate goal, my child. The utter annihilation of the Sith. We will need all the warriors we can get. If this Padawan can take down a few Sith, he belongs among us. I remember Coruscant. I remember… the Jedi failed us. But it was the Sith who wronged us. The despicable cowards attacked a school after luring out all the teachers and guards! How in blazes can they be proud of that?”

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remember. He’d been training along with other Padawans when they’d heard a horrible crash. The ground shook from some tremendous impact, and every one of the trainees had felt death after death as surprise invaders and defenders killed each other. Bengel had sped outside, Lightsaber in hand, but Anya Alekseeva had told him to get the younglings to safety. Dear, sweet Anya… who had begun sharing her bed with him in the months before the cowardly attack. Anya, in whose company he had felt true peace. Anya, who he fancied was the love of his life.

Even as he ran to obey her order—although she was only a year his senior, she had been recently Knighted—he had looked back just in time to see her cut down by a masked Sith. He remembered his long scream of horror, a scream that had drawn the attention of several Sith and Jedi. Another Knight had sacrificed himself to save Bengel, reminding him to go to the Younglings.

But right when he’d reached the younglings’ quarters, the roof had collapsed. He had been trapped in a small room with twenty-five younglings, trapped alone for days as they slowly started to feel the bite of thirst and hunger. No help had come for them. Instead, a small section of floor collapsed under the rubble. Luckily, the rest of the ground didn’t crumble beneath them. He was able to lead the younglings to safety through a network of tunnels underneath the Temple.

They had wandered around the underbelly of Coruscant for months before they emerged. Every single one of his charges suffered from night terrors, as did Bengel himself. Again and again, he asked himself how the Jedi could have let this happen. How his precious Master could have failed to come to his rescue.

He had come to one, inescapable conclusion. The Jedi were weak. Had been allowed to grow weak by centuries of complacency. Weak enough for the very heart of their power to be crushed by only a small force of Sith and Mandalorians. Outrage boiled in his bowels, outrage at having been so royally failed.

He mourned the death of his beloved, and of his innocence. But he yearned for vengeance. It had come to him one night, that he could not defeat the Sith alone. He needed the Jedi behind him. If they were weak, he just had to retrain them. To teach them how to fight again.

And so, he had begun instructing his twenty-three surviving younglings in his new philosophy, honing them to be weapons to be used against the Sith. And he had bided his time, seeing the Jedi withdraw to a remote location to lick their wounds.

It had taken much effort to find out where Tython was, and more to smuggle his students there. And three shiploads of weapons, once they’d finally subjugated the Flesh Raiders. He’d lost five more apprentices in that endeavor, leaving him with just eighteen of his original twenty-seven.

And now, Callef was dead too, killed by an upstart young Jedi. But if he were to join them, perhaps he could pay them back the life he stole. No one could truly replace Callef, but Bengel couldn’t be picky. He needed every true Jedi he could get his hands on if he were to achieve his ultimate goal.

The utter humiliation and death of Darths Angral, and Malgus.

*

Vajra spent the day fixing the damage to T7’s head. His Master arrived sometime after lunch and began quizzing Vajra on difficult words to test how his studies had been going.

“Anachronism.”

“Something out of place or time, usually in literature. Includes figures of speech, fashion trends, architecture, or technology.”

“Serendipitous.”

“When you find just what you need by seemingly pure chance.”

Master Orgus chuckled. “‘Seemingly,’ eh?”

“Master WenSuul used to get very cross if I ever talked about luck like it wasn’t the will of the Force.”

“While she’s not wrong, that doesn’t mean ‘luck’ isn’t a word. Especially in the mind of the Ungifted. ‘Malapropos’.”

He thought about that one for a few moments, but shook his head.

“Inappropriate, or inopportune.”

“Master… I need to talk about the Khrayii. About killing.”

“About your guilt.”

“That guilt almost got me killed the other day. And by such unskilled opponents too!”

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Pride leads to ruin, Vajra. Never forget that. Few beings in this galaxy meet the end they think they deserve. I’ve lost count of how many great soldiers I’ve known who died, not in some great mission, but on backwater worlds. Or in hospital beds. Some got killed by novices. Others died of accidents. All it really takes is a single stroke of bad luck. When your final moments come, do not let it be of shame or regret.”

“Yes, Master. About my problem—”

“You want to come to terms with all the lives you’ve ended.”

“Yes, Master.”

“It’s no easy thing.”

“The Khrayii… did they deserve to die?”

“They are hurting innocent lives. We protect them. And ourselves”

“That doesn’t seem to be enough. What am I missing?”

“I’m sorry, my young friend. You need to find your own answers. Someone else’s won’t cut it.”

“Master… I come from a society of primitives, same as the Khrayii. Perhaps not the same, but… if our history had been only a little different, I’d imagine we would be hostile to all visitors too. Perhaps we’d take their very presence as an insult. Or a threat. But we were lucky. We’d known only peace for a thousand years. True wars such as what we face out here never happened. Nothing I’ve heard from my elders or Master WenSuul prepared me for this. And I’m just fourteen! I know there’s many who are forced to kill at younger ages, but me… I was raised in a sheltered place. I’m not ready for this. At this rate, I will die in my next fight. And my last thoughts will be ‘I deserved this.’ I need your help. Please.”

Master Orgus rubbed his jaw. “I suppose there’s no harm in giving you my own answer. If only to tell you how to search.”

“That might help greatly, Master.”

“I was already a grown man when the Sith invaded. I’d spent my apprenticeship as most Jedi did. Mediating minor disputes, enforcing peace, and occasionally hunting down criminals. Killing was always difficult. But then came the war…” he shivered. “I fight—and kill—for all the things I want to protect. The Republic. The Jedi. The students. My Padawans. Innocent people, especially children. What you saw back on Raudraksha… it was nasty. Senseless death caused by one of the most homicidal maniacs of his time. Unfortunately, it’s a lot more common than we’d like to believe. I’ve seen it happen all too often. And not just the Sith. Thugs, despots, lunatics, crime lords. Serial killers. Even our own Republic soldiers have committed massacres which I dearly wanted to punish them for, but couldn’t. It wears on you quickly.

“I too, hesitated in my younger days. I too almost got killed. My life was only saved by happenstance. By a comrade who happened to intervene. Or an enemy who tripped in their eagerness to kill me. And yet as time went on, I realized that the lives I took kept others safe. I was able to see it in reports. In the patterns. And, after some practice, I could feel the Force itself sigh with relief. Populations cried in relief; strings of massacres ended. The death of Darth Bellicose was particularly poignant. When a seven-year-long killing spree ends, you notice the galaxy becoming a slightly better place. The Twi’leks of Kalikori have not been attacked even once after your rather frightening attack in the valley. And when the next attack comes, they’ll be ready for it. They are happy that someone is looking out for them. That someone cares enough to give them weapons. Hear their woes. Return the ashes of their dead. You’ve created some waves there, good waves. It’s brought them light in a dark time. If a being’s death brings great relief to a whole lot of people, then perhaps it was necessary.”

“‘Perhaps’?”

“Yes. We do not pass judgement, Padawan. Especially not the death sentence. However, fighting someone who has attacked, or is preparing to attack innocents, is unavoidable. Death in combat is unavoidable. If you want, you could just leave them without limbs, but even to us, it’s a heavy blow. Just look at how many of our paralysed students asked for mercy. To creatures like the Khrayii, it would be worse than a death sentence. Strength is everything. The weak get left behind. And we do not yet have a way of rehabilitating them. As you can see, morality and reasoning are both complicated and slippery. But do you understand how we come to terms?”

“I think so, Master.”

“If I may make a suggestion, read what Jasme has to share with you. About the Raudra. You may be estranged from your home, but it had an impact in your formative years. Perhaps the wisdom of your great-father can grant you some measure of understanding.”

“That… that is a wonderful idea, Master!” Vajra cried. “I’ll do that as soon as I can.”

“Not now?”

“Right now, my priority is T7. After what he’s been through, he deserves it.”

Master Orgus chuckled. “You’re right. That droid is special after all. You both are. Alright, if you’re satisfied with my answer, I’ll leave you alone for now. Think on what I’ve just said. May you find your own answer soon. And peace along with it.”

*

Jasme ushered Vajra into the cubicle. “Come on, come on! I’ve already got everything loaded for you!”

“Everything?”

“Don’t get too excited, ‘everything’ isn’t a whole lot.”

“It’s okay.” He sat down right in front of the screen, and she beside him.

“I think this is a good place to start. It’s like a brief overview.”

“Report on the Raudra, by Master Oteg,” Vajra read out loud. “The Raudra are a proud and noble race that live on the mountainous world of Raudraksha. They get their name from their hero-ancestor, Rudra. He is said to have saved them from a race of demonic serpents more than a thousand years ago. Said serpent enslaved not only the Raudra’s ancestors, but another race called the Iakshas, who went extinct as a result of the serpents. Rudra, once he managed to free his people and become their first ever king, made four decrees that govern the Raudra life to this day. These are the edicts as told to me by a very bright soldier named Tarsten.

“‘All of my children are born free, and no king, god, or demon may take that away.’ This is the most important of the edicts for the Raudra. It is the reason why they value not only their own freedom, but that of all their brethren as well. They still remember the price they paid for this freedom, and treasure the concept to this day.

“The second edict: ‘The society is a large, living thing, and the Raudra are only as strong as our society. If any aspect of our society is weak, the organism cannot survive strife.’ This edict is something of a double-edged sword. It divides the Raudra into classes. Each class has its purpose, and in theory, none stand above the others. But they have become rigid over time. A warrior would find it very difficult indeed to become a priest, or a philosopher. And although the classes are theoretically equal, it might not feel that way if you are a servant. Or anyone faced with a priest or noble. That said, this edict encapsulates the concepts of society and duty, and the Raudra seem to give it their all in their roles.

“The third edict is best summarized as ‘Our way is not their way,’ and it is in honor of the late Iakshas, whose customs were foreign to the Raudra. But their shared final battle against the great serpent showed them that different does not mean evil. The Raudra mourn the loss of the Iakshas, mourn the kinship that they never thought to kindle. In their memory, they preach tolerance to ideas not their own. More than once, they used this edict to excuse our inadvertent trespasses.

“Then last, but by no means least, is ‘Never forget your soul. Even if grief or anger or pain make it feel slippery in your hands, always hold to yourself. Never forget your pride and honor as my children. Never let the storm within take you.’ I believe this edict addresses the most troublesome aspect of the Raudra; their inherent affinity to the Dark Side. Although the evidence we have is circumstantial at best right now, we believe that all Raudra have a connection to the Force, but it is weak for the most part. It only shows itself at times of great danger. Or, in other words, when they were afraid or angry. The priest Aparajitha slew the feared Darth Bellicose with a Lightning strike from a clear sky. Rudra also killed the great serpent with a similar attack. These sound like an evolution of the same Force Lightning the Sith are fond of… yet the Raudra do not have a single instance in their history where someone who used the Dark Side was corrupted by it. I believe this is the reason. They are trained to remember their pride and their soul from their birth. Perhaps this is a sign that the corruption we fear is not a given. Perhaps there are those among the Sith who practice the Dark Side, but do not lose themselves to it. I do hope so. But I do not think I will be quick to try out my theory. I suspect few Jedi will.”

Vajra leaned back. “I remember these… The tale of Rudra was one of my favorites as a child. Me and my sisters used to love hearing Aparajitha tell us the story at supper.”

“They’ve always seemed so different from most cultures, at least to me.”

“It almost like the Jedi code.”

“Really? I thought it also had elements of Sith in it.”

“Sith?”

“You’ve heard the Sith Code, right? No? Well. ‘Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength, through strength I gain power, through power I gain victory, through victory our chains are broken. The Force will grant me freedom.’ The first edict makes the Raudra treasure their freedom above everything else. And the last one makes it alright to use passion and power, but just not to lose oneself in it. If anything, the edicts of Rudra permit a coexistence of Light and Dark.”

“I see.”

“But this is just the beginning. There’s a lot more to your people. Histories, folk tales, songs, beliefs.”

“I’m going to read them all,” Vajra said. “But I think I already have the answer I need.”

Jasme grinned. “I thought you might.”

Vajra gave her a nostalgic look. “Do you want to read me a story?”

“Would I ever!” Jasme said happily. “Which one do you want?”

“Let’s see.” Vajra scanned the list of folk tales. “The tale of the war goddess, Adi Shakti.”

“Excellent choice!”

*

#star wars #swtor #swtor fanfic #swtor fanfiction #Jedi Knight #Kira Carsen #Satele Shan #Orgus Din #Bela Kiwiiks #Jaric kaedan #Gnost-Dural #OC #Jasme #Jasme Shan

[ameliaashdale]

I have two ways of thinking:

"Jocasta Nu, Orba-Lin, Eno Cordova, and Gnost-Dural are personally stalking me in the Archives because I am too obsessed with Galactic History to be considered a sane human who totally gets enough hours of sleep in a month compared with the amount of time logged into the computer terminal." *proceeds to kill you with a 3 hour lecture on why The Hero of Tython was actually a woman with a lot more to her than just being a generic chosen one archetype that would've prevented Order 66 by admitting to having a girlfriend.*

"Ponchos are a mark of altruism, apparently... and I absolutely agree with the man." *proceeds to be an anti-altruistic being and read all of the whump sickfics, hurtfics, and fluff fics starring your favorite ginger.*

There is wisdom. There is whump. There is peace because both are joyful things for me.

#starwars #cal kestis #jedi #poncho #star wars reference #wednesdaywisdom