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Grand Master Eidolon

Grand Master
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About Grand Master Eidolon

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    Lucian
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  1. A Lesson in Physical Defense

    C'erian gave a smile, he underestimated how his presence might upset the Initiates in their routine. It was an odd sensation for him, but not exactly a new one. At the conclusion of the war with the Sith, C'erian had of course been both Grand Master of the Jedi Order, and the duly elected Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. He had seen awe-struck Jedi silenced by his presence, stuttering younglings trying to compose a thought, even civillians in awe of his humility and peaceful serenity. And yet, he didn't feel like a figure of great authority, despite what his titles might suggest. In his eyes, he felt no different than an Initiate walking through the halls of the Enclave - seeing new sights, experiencing new sensations. 'A true Jedi never stops learning,' C'erian said with conviction, 'it is when you block out new teachings and new experiences, that you begin to remove yourself from the baser humanities. No Jedi knows everything, nor would they pretend to, it is a falsehood which leads to darker ambitions. I am afraid, far more often than you would think, titles and skill with the Force don't change those facts. I am afraid of what the future may bring, afraid of paying my taxes, afraid that the giant boulder looming over my head will suddenly fall on top of me - fear is logical, empirical fact. You see a three hundred pound monster in front of you, and you only have a chance of underwear and two blunt sticks, fear would be a perfectly valid response. The importance is not allowing yourself to linger on the fear, to let it consume you or dictate your actions. You breathe in, and out, and meditate with the Force - quietly, and if standing in front of the monster, likely very quickly. 'The Force, will always provide an answer, and reasoning. Listen to the Force, allow yourself to embrace it totally, and allow your mind to become clear. Sometimes the three-hundred pound monster you are seeing, is only a three-inch tall reflection of yourself,' a beat as he winked at the uncomfortable and somewhat nervous Mirran, 'sometimes its the monster though, so we definitely should pay attention to this exercise, just in case we need these skills later,' then to Char, 'Of course, but there might be trainers more suited to your needs than myself personally. My skill with a blade is not unsubstantial, neither is is unworthy, but I am no Battlemaster - I trained in a single lightsaber form, which may or may not be the most comfortable to you. I leave that ball in your court however - there will be time for training, once this exercise is complete.' Then he spoke to Dantius, 'Of course - though I hardly expect to intervene, if we are engaging in simple training exercises. We are only learning the technique, try not to overdo it on the first attempt just on my account,' he gave a weak chuckle 'We hardly want to damage our Initiates before they've had a chance to shine.'
  2. A Lesson in Physical Defense

    It was a bright day on Dantooine, and not for the first time, the Grand Master did not regret the choices that had brought them here. There was a sense in the air that he had never sensed in the days amongst the politicians of Coruscant - the hum of training, peaceful meditation that overwhelmed his senses and excited his skin. He had withdrawn his Force signature deep within himself, allowing him to wander unnoticed through the grounds of the Jedi Enclave, the hood of his white robe drawn over his face, his long white hair tied up behind him as so to be as inconspicuous as possible. His hands were locked in front of him, intwined in front of him as the arms of the robe draped down in front of his robe. There was a sweet smell in the air - one of the flowers was in bloom - which made him look up to a group of Initiates who were training. He wandered closer, recognising the Jedi Sentinel who was leading the training exercise as Dantius Octavion - though they had never formally met. He wandered close, but initially did not join the group, leaning over by a nearby rose bush to smell the smell of the bloom, while carefully listening in. Teras Kasi, or Steel Hand. It was not something that the Grand Master had trained in specifically, but he had done extensive research before his time as Grand Master - even having seen it performed in meditation by one of the Masters. It piqued his interest. So with that in mind, he stood up and moved towards the group, letting his hood down as he did. In the year since the war had ended, he had stopped shaving, his face now proudly sporting a short well groomed beard around his mouth, white to match his hair. 'That is why Jedi are given lightsabers,' C'erian said, in answer to Mirran's statement, 'We are envoys of the Force, keeping peace across the galaxy. Sometimes in the name of peace, we must act against our nature. You cannot fight fire with fire - to give into conflict, to accept it and seek it out is the surefire way to the Dark Side, but in the name of defending the innocent sometimes there is no other way. As long as you are always weary of your actions, as long as your first reaction is not to strike, as long as your intention is pure... then perhaps, you will balance the line between peace, and conflict.' He looked up at Dantius, giving a broad smile, 'Apologies, Sentinel, I don't wish to interrupt your lesson. I hear you are teaching Teras Kasi, and I have never had the opportunity to learn from someone with the skill. If you have no objections, I would like to participate in your session.'
  3. The Knife's Edge

    One Month Later Coruscant The Supreme Chancellor stood on the central platform and looked sternly across the room of bickering voices, eyes already filled with such regret, and yet a deeper fierceness lingered. With a sweep of the Chancellor's hand, the chaos of echoing voices silenced, the last of those yelling quickly subdued into submission. Silence held in the Convocation Chambers within the Senate, and for a moment, peace reigned. The Supreme Chancellor surveyed them all, waiting, until she could speak, 'We must let the Jedi have their time to speak. The time for calls of inquiry, the moment for justice, for appeals and counter-appeals, calls for the former Supreme Chancellor to be brought before the Supreme Court for his decisions will wait, until the honourable Grand Master has spoken. What is our democracy, if it will not allow our most trusted advisors speak to the congregation?' There was silence - but Supreme Chancellor Maia Aranea had a particular hold over the assembly. C'erian watched her with admiration - the control she had over the members of the Senate - indeed, the respect that she carried, was admirable. It was one of the many great things he believed he had accomplished, was allowing democracy to take its course. In the days after the Battle of Bastion, the Grand Master had returned to a very different Coruscant from which he had originally left. It was no longer a Coruscant at war - but one dealing with the harsher reality, a life in which the war was over. Now they had to pick up the pieces, and figure out how to move on. Upon his return, he immediately relinquished all of his emergency powers that the Senate gave him. Then, he resigned his office. A Jedi should never rule. Not over the lives of the people, not when the galaxy was filled with such darkness, such horrible atrocities still waiting to be defended against. He relinquished the title of Supreme Chancellor, and expected the Jedi High Council to demote him from the title of Grand Master. It had never occured, however, leaving him standing as the figurehead of the Order still. The Senate worked quickly, electing Aranea from some minor governance to sit as the next Supreme Chancellor - a role that she embodied far better than C'erian ever could have. She was the voice of democracy at work, and for it, they respected her. To them, he had always been a tool necessary to wield the sword against the Sith; and in a time of peace, only a violent conqueror remained. Yet, once again, the focus of the Senate fell on the Grand Master, and once again, he was forced to ask the impossible. To demand the impossible. Not that it was their right to choose, the Jedi had already made it, 'Ladies and gentleman of the Senate, I come before you as a man humbled by the face of peace. So long have the Jedi fought against the scourge of the Sith Empire, so long have the Jedi become the embodiment of the war effort, of the discord in the galaxy. We have created a generation of soldiers, an ethos of battle, and a culture of destruction. To the Founding Fathers of the Jedi Order, we are butchers of their ideals, to the citizens of the galaxy we are the heroes who brought justice to a galaxy on the verge. 'The Jedi Order has always stood behind the Galactic Republic, since its inception. The core values of democracy and freedom ring clear with the ideals set out by the Founding Fathers of the Jedi, yet somewhere we lost our way. I become a leader, I ruled the Republic through strength and military force. I lead the galaxy into the most brutal campaign it has likely ever surmounted, and the High Council didn't stop me. The Jedi supported the want-less murder of thousands, perhaps millions of innocents. We destroyed the Sith Empire, but at what cost? 'And the Senate knows it. If I was in office, you would impeach me. You are calling for me to admit to war crimes, to stand before tribunal and admit to a great many other crimes done in the name of the destruction of the Sith; and you are right to ask it. Those decisions keep me up at night. They do not align with the ideals of the Jedi, or even the Republic. I sit awake at night, pondering the question, 'How far the mighty have fallen.' Are we no better than the Sith? In destroying them, did we become them? Did we create something worse? I resigned my office, because I knew I had stepped over the threshold into uncharted and dangerous territory, and I had made those decision in error. We won. If we hadn't, if the Sith had defeated us, if the risk had been different, the outcome changed... well, its not worth thinking. 'But as I have laid awake in those sleepless nights, I have come to realize, that it isn't just me,' C'erian stated with a finality, 'We have bred a discord within the Jedi, and it must be rectified. Which is why I now stand before the Senate, with the official declaration that the Jedi Order will be resigning from the Galactic Republic, effective immediately,' the entire Senate opened in uproar. C'erian raised his voice, but his microphone carried his voice, 'The Jedi Order must find itself again, if we are to serve the Republic as keepers of peace, rather than warmongers. We will be returning to our spiritual home, to Jedha and Dantooine, in order to rediscover within our tenants the truth. To re-establish peace within ourselves, and bring to an end a generation of soldiers. We are leaving to discover ourselves. A core contingent of Jedi will remain to continue repairs on the Jedi Temple, and establish an emissary to the Republic - but we demand our independence, in order to align the beliefs of the Jedi in a practical fashion. This is not something we ask the Senate, we are demanding it. Our sins are absolute, and we seek penance for those sins. 'The galaxy has no need for soldiers, in a time of peace,' C'erian finished. He sat back down on his chair, as the Supreme Chancellor stared at him with wide open eyes. It would deny the Senator's their chance to fight over the rights and wrongs, to blame, to pick apart the pieces of the broken government. Instead, they would be forced to move on, and to heal. 'I demand an immediate vote on the acceptance of the Jedi Order's resignation from the Galactic Republic,' Chancellor Arenea said deliberately, 'All for?' The vote passed. It was time for the Jedi to leave. The time of war, was over.
  4. The Knife's Edge

    ~ TWO WEEKS LATER ~ In orbit of Sartinaynian (known commonly as Bastion) "Sith's Envy" Valor-Class Cruiser The attack on Dromund Kaas had transpired better than his wildest imaginings - yet as the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic stood on the command walkway of Sith's Envy, the Force felt calm and deliberate around him. Patience, sacrifice and opportunity had all presented their hands, and one by one given the Republic the opportunity and advantage that they had always needed to succeed. Within hours of activating the fleet, the largest portion of the Republic Military appeared over Dromund Kaas like a cyclonic wave of energy. From orbit, the Republic unleashed a tirade of orbital strikes, crippling the infrastructure of the Spaceport and Kaas City - while crippling the fleet that had been left to defend Dromund Kaas. It was absolute slaughter - the Sith had never seen it coming. Whats more, the Emperor was still missing, recovering presumably from his transfer of consciousness after his death on Coruscant - leaving the Dark Council alone to defend the planet. With the will of the entire Jedi Council, and the greatest Republic minds, the Sith were unable to coordinate, unable to quickly gain a defensive stronghold. When the Emperor's flagship, Limitless entered, the battle seemed almost like it might turn. Yet a few dedicated Jedi flew their shuttles directly into the shuttle bay - fought their way to the bridge, and pilotted the behemoth directly into the heart of Kaas City. The Sith Fleet began to scramble then, as the Republic picked them off piece by piece - running, scampering as they considered their options. The Republic Fleet broke into two, continuing the assault on Dromund Kaas, while the other half lead by C'erian, went directly to Korriban. As he assumed, much of the left over fleet had assembled here, using Korriban as a secondary port of call, but it was no match for the Republic offensive. So quick, so harsh, the Sith never stood the chance. A delegation of Jedi lead by Gnost-Dural stomed and took the Academy, taking down Darth Lyran and Darth Xisad in the process as they tried to establish a foothold. Meanwhile on Dromund Kaas, names of other Dark Councillor's began to appear. Darth Cognitus was killed while trying to protect the Sith Citadel, Darth Ragas was slain in the main offensive. Within days Dromund Kaas was a ghost of its former self, a shell devoid of life except by its native inhabitants. Korriban was inhabited by Republic forces, who held the Sith Academy firmly. And so, as they went from planet to planet, purging the Sith from the worlds they had known, they discovered Darth Vowrawn. He surrendered himself to the Republic on some remote Sith world, giving himself freely to the Jedi as long as they would let him live. C'erian gave him one ultimatum - he would have to surrender the location of the fallback world for the Sith. He gave it somewhat reluctantly, thrown in shackles, with seven Jedi to guard him as he was taken back to Coruscant. A little known world known by the Imperial's as Bastion. And so, they were here. On Bastion, the last of the Council; Darth Atrox, Darth Tanit, Darth Verrin, Darth Sunder and Darth Sanguria were destined to meet. Here, they encountered the very last of the Imperial might. Here, Vowrawn strongly suggested, they would end the Sith once and for all. Maybe they would, C'erian thought grimly, but in a fortress world they could hole themselves in for weeks, months even, without ever being discovered. He turned to the Force for answers, but all it gave him was a sense of patience, a feeling of peace. 'You're here, I can feel it,' C'erian muttered quickly, speaking through the Force telekinetically, unable to sense but knowing all the same. Darth Valyrian was here. There would be no doubt. He leaned heavily on the cane he had needed since the attack on Coruscant, and walked to the viewport at the end of the command walkway, staring deep into the planets surface below. Imperial vessels and Republic ones were engaged in battle, but more importantly, shuttles were departing down to the planets surface, where it was hoped, the Republic would find the last holdout of Sith, and destroy them. Easier said than done.
  5. Knighting Ceremony of Coventry Desperaux

    It was always a pleasure to knight a fellow Jedi, but C'erian had never felt himself entirely worthy. Jakar for instance, had a lifetime of Jedi service behind him before he stood as Grand Master, whereas he stood as Grand Master by declaration - a coup of the system itself, a face of the greater systemic problems in the Republic, a face of the war itself. His control and countenance, his poise and grace kept him in a manner of respect, but his inner monologue screamed against the falsities that it presented. The longer he played the part, he told himself, the sooner he would accept it all for himself. Though perhaps it was the hesitation at his job, that made him so good at it. The newly cladded Jedi Knight stood quietly, his lightsaber in hand, a quick and respectful bow to the Council present. There was a show of smiles, as the Jedi around collectively deactivated their devices, C'erian amongst the last to do so. He clipped his lightsaber to his belt next to its twin blade - it was nothing special, a typical Jedi blade with little embellishment or additions, worth nothing. It was the type of weapon he preferred. Yet these same two blades had stood with him for some time now - and it wouldn't be the same with any other. 'I have heard whisper through Republic channels that shipments of crucial medicines sent by the Republic to the outer reaches are being ransacked,' C'erian said, quietly as the Master's began to leave, 'There are stories - and our intelligence efforts come up empty on this score - that the pirates are boarding the vessels before they depart, stow away and quietly take their share from the supplies, leaving during a routine stop point - but our intelligence and efforts have come up with no answers on the score. The Jedi don't have any spare Knights to sent on a mission like this - the war efforts taking up much of our resources, but... newly Knighted, this might be an ample opportunity to get to the bottom of the issue. 'Unofficially, of course,' C'erian added quickly, his voice lowered, 'the Senate would have an absolute meltdown if a mission like this was sanctioned by the Jedi - there are already factions forming within the Senate which believe the Jedi hold entirely too much power. A not unfair assessment, in many regards, but it makes moving assets around like this difficult. Do you think you might be up to the task? I can provide you with any assets you need - off the books, and privately, of course. The Office of the Supreme Chancellor is at your disposal, if you choose to accept.' He gave the Knight a curious glance, uncertain if he would be willing to take on the task. It was no small undertaking - but something his Aide's had been quietly prompting him on for months. It would be good to have the perpetrators caught - if indeed they existed. It could be entirely more - Intelligence was very lacking - and the entire smuggling scheme could be far wider than he suspected, but without the research, he was unable to speculate.
  6. In the ruins of the Jedi Temple, Grand Master C'erian Eidolon stood at the central hall, wearing not the robes of the Chancellor, but the white robes of the Jedi and representing the Order for all it stood for. The Temple was quiet, it always was, but today as the twelve members of the Jedi High Council surrounded him, it was quiet for good reason. In the quiet of the room, each held in their hands an ignited lightsaber, adding a myriad of green and blue lights to an otherwise dimmed room. 'Coventry Desperaux, you have been summoned to the Jedi Council last night, in order to spend a night in quiet meditation. I hope you have prepared yourself for what the Force wills for your future,' he said quietly, his voice echoing in the darkness, to the figure of Coventry kneeling in the centre of the room. He looked around the room, and with a powerful and confident voice, he spoke, the words echoing the sacred texts of old. The words that all Jedi hoped they would hear, in an ancient rite older than the Temple itself, 'By right of the Council, by the Will of the Force, I dub thee Knight of the Republic.' C'erian extended his lightsaber up over the shoulders of the man, one by one, before giving a short salute with his lightsaber. And thus, Coventry was a Jedi Knight of the Jedi Order.
  7. The Knife's Edge

    The Grand Master's was stuck to the spot - for a moment, at awe with the situation he was placed in. Not only was the assassin an Imperial Agent, but his own twin - the Emperor himself. On Coruscant, a feat which was no mild untaking. Months of touch and go, quiet assassinations in the night, slowly showing his mask to the face of Republic security, and it had been the Emperor all along. No wonder their forces had never touched him - how they had so easily been subdued, so quickly dismissed. A myriad of coincidences become so evidently clear, but the shock of seeing Lucian here, of all places, shocked him to his core. 'Its not possible,' C'erian muttered to himself, his hand firm and the lightsabers blade still turned down towards the Emperor's chest, 'You can't be here. This isn't possible. You are the Emperor - not some simple assassin. Why risk so much, in order to take me out? And then to FAIL. And you have failed, of this we can both be assured. Your defeat is only moments away.' The Emperor simply smiled, his thin lips and pale almost translucent skin produced the image of a man much weaker, much more frail than he ordinarily might be. He made no attempt to move - yet the Dark Side coursed through him like waves of rippling energy. The room felt almost electric in his presence - a dangerous tactic, if the Grand Master had ever felt it, 'I may die, but your death will still come by my hands. We are not the first, of course. Our genetic template was created by Atrumcavus, and so it continues with us. And I have perfected what Atrumcavus once sought to do.' The penny dropped, the Grand Master went deathly pale, 'You have clones, don't you. How many have you burned through now? No,' he decided against it, 'I don't want to know. You are a thing of darkness, a creature of vile corruption. You are exactly what Atrumcavus would have become - you are his legacy. Rejoice in the fact that he succeeded. You have become everything you hated, everything you fought so hard to prevent. Then again, you probably see it no other way now.' The Sith Emperor smiled, and C'erian brought the lightsaber down, tearing through the chest plate and piercing the sinew within. There was a wince of pain as the blade entered into the Emperor's body, the lightsaber tearing through major arteries, and cauterising them shut all the same. His body was wracked in pain, yet only a small glimmer of it showed in the shadowy figures eyes, a cruel smile twisting into the ghostly facade, as the Emperor pulled a scalpel from almost nowhere - a hidden relic, an old weapon of an older time, when things were required. He sliced through the Grand Master's leg with surgical precision, forcing the Grand Master to the ground in a pool of blood - the muscles and ligments in his legs broken and torn. The twist forced C'erian's lightsaber slice through the Emperor quickly, the ghost-like smile disappearing into the void of lifelessness, the Dark Energies in the room pulsating, as the Emperor forced his spirit out of his body, and out in the darkness, through the void of space, to where a new body would be waiting for him. The room, what was left of it, tore itself apart in the chaos, the dark energies burning and crushing the objects around them, leaving the Grand Master alone, bleeding in the dark. C'erian summoned the last of his Force reserve, healing himself with a glow of green energy. It was only temporary, and only enough to stop the bleeding, the full treatment would be longer still. After a short, not inconsequential time, he pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the wall as he ignored the pain, limping slowly towards an exit. A figure appeared in the doorway - and for a second, C'erian became alert. He drew the Force to him instinctively, before the figure of his personal aide, data-pad glued to his hand as normal, an overly concerned look on his almost-human brow. 'Your Excellency!' he said with some urgency, his eyes looking the tattered and bruised Grand Master up and down over and over again, 'What...' 'You will find the body of Darth Valyrian in there,' C'erian referenced behind him, to the shattered remains of his office, 'He was the assassin all along. I defeated him, but there will be more - there is no time now to explain. He will rise again - and we must be quick if we wish to end this war once and for all,' his voice was firm, with a gravitas he had never before utilised in his duties, 'Summon the Admiralty, and engage the Military Forces. Our time to act is now - and there is so little time, or room for error.' Somehow, the Senior Aide to the Chancellor understood. Within minutes, via hologram, the Supreme Chancellor, the Jedi Council and the highest ranked members of the Republic Military understood their orders, and their target, as the Chancellor entered into a shuttle leaving for the nearest available Star Cruiser. There was no room for error now, as the Chancellor had said in the moment. Not a moment for hesitation. The time to act was now, or else they would continue down this path until there was no-one left to fight it. Their target: Dromund Kaas. Their goal: The end of the war.
  8. And Then The Murders Began

    C'erian shook his head, a deep headache forming at the back of his eyes as he read the report for the thirteenth time, trying to find something. One dead Jedi Knight - two missing, presumed dead. Another clear picture of their Sith adversary, staring directly into the camera as they landed on the ground, before turning a corner to presumably murder the inexperienced Jedi. The body count was rising almost every day, and yet the Jedi were no closer to finding this person that they were the first day that this Sith had appeared. There was no evidence for them to examine - no fibers, no way to identify this adversary. And yet... the Sith had arrived on Coruscant somehow. He hadn't appeared from nowhere, and he certainly wasn't acting out of sheer random coincidence. There had to be a pattern. The chambers of the Jedi High Council - once the private residence and offices of the Supreme Chancellor before they had been cleared for the Jedi's purposes - were silent. With the other chairs around him empty, C'erian ponded deeply into the Force, trying to find some wisdom, trying to uncover some clue which might make this whole scheme become clear. Yet nothing appeared. His sight was being blocked - no matter how long the High Council spent in meditation, their collective meditation was unable to pierce the wall of the Dark Side, unable to see the plain truth that laid beneath a web of mystery and deceit. He placed the datapad on the armrest of his chair, standing up and walking towards the wide glass window that surrounded the entirety of the room. From any point in the room, the Jedi could see the city, much as they could in the old Council Chambers in the Temple. It had been modeled to appear almost identical, yet the differences were obvious. You couldn't see the desolation of the Jedi Temple from the original Council Chambers. The door slid open with the mechanical whir as the turbo-lift opened up into the room. He didn't bother to turn to face the person entering - only the Jedi Council or the Supreme Chancellor's most loyal aide's had access to this particular level of the Jedi Spire of the Senate. It was of course, no surprise to him that person entering had no Force signature to speak of - his Staff Aide, Den Hadium, approached quickly and quietly. C'erian turned and looked up the tall Epicanthix, who served as his most senior assistant ever since his ascension to the Chancellorship, 'Your Excellency, there is currently an incident in progress at the Jedi Temple, with one of the missing Jedi...' C'erian immediately straightened, 'Take me there. Immediately,' The shuttle ride was quick, with all traffic diverted out of their direct travel path. The shuttle landed a short distance from the Temple, and already he could hear the whiz of lightsaber blades clashing, and the shots of blasters firing. One of the Jedi had returned to the Temple, the one who had gone missing after the murder of the younger Jedi, and he had began acting erratically. He was eventually cornered by a couple concerned healers, before he took his lightsaber out and cut them into pieces before they could even react. Overhead, Republic news stations were filming the entire thing - rushing over to his shuttle as he emerged, trying to get him to make comment. C'erian ignored them - using the Force to leap over the reporters, and head directly toward the Temple itself, where a group of Jedi were keeping anyone from entering. Behind him, he could see his Staff Aide beginning to give the official comments of the Supreme Chancellor to the press, as the camera's focused on the Grand Master's actions. Acting not just as one role, but two, the eyes of the Republic were always on him, no matter where he went. So he did his best to disappear. Once he ascended the ruined steps of the Temple, no camera would be able to see him. One of the Master's was still trying to contain the "insane Jedi" as Den Hadium had called the newly returned Jedi, in their shuttle trip. It was easy to find them - the Temple was mostly abandoned, except for the sound of lightsabers clashing erratically, and the strong pull of the Force. The Jedi was nothing like what he had looked like before - he looked like he hadn't slept in months, his eyes were glazed and his robes bedraggled. The molten and corrupt smell of the Dark Side lingered on him, pouring into the Grand Master's senses. There was a cry, and the senior Master fell, the Jedi having cut the Master's leg from the top. He stood over the Master, ready to make the kill. 'Stop this,' C'erian said, forcing his voice to resonate strongly with the Light Side, 'He is a fellow Jedi. You are a Jedi. There is no need for this violence. Surrender your weapon, and we can help you. Whatever has happened, we can help you. We can stop this. You can stop this. End the violence, and let him go.' The Jedi - a shadow of his former self, stopped and turned to look at C'erian briefly, before giving a devilish smile. He turned back and thrust the lightsaber down, intending to stab at the heart of the elder Master. C'erian moved quickly, forcing the corrupt Jedi from his feet with a repulse of energy, directed straight at him. The Jedi bounced against the wall - and injury, any pain he felt, completely numbed by the corruption. He turned and ran at C'erian, swinging his lightsaber with the erratic and un-disciplined form of the deranged. Undisciplined, but still dangerous - a lightsaber even in the hands of the inexperienced, was still lethal. The Jedi began to hack at C'erian's form - the lightsaber used almost like an axe. Then, mid-stroke, the Jedi switched, taking on a form - catching the Grand Master by surprise. C'erian leapt, spinning in the air as he tried to cut the Jedi's hand or feet, to end the combat. The Jedi refused to cooperate, swinging his blade the other way, forcing C'erian to defend, rather than attack as he landed. C'erian stepped back and began to twist the blade in his hand, using the Ataru spin to confuse and debilitate his opponent. He then threw his lightsaber - missing the Jedi. With a smile, the Jedi struck - pushing forward trying to hit the defenseless Grand Master. C'erian pressed his hand forward, creating a barrier of energy just strong enough to deflect the lightsaber for one blow - before his lightsaber returned on its path, landing straight back into C'erian's hands. He twisted his blade simply, and the Jedi's hands fell from their wrists. With a scream, the Jedi fell to his knee's, expecting death. C'erian used went deep into the Force, feeling into the Jedi's pain, and increased it, ten fold. The Jedi passed out almost instantly, the pain too much tolerate, and C'erian fell to his knees in exhaustion. Minutes later, a group of Jedi advanced, and took the Jedi into custody.
  9. And Then The Murders Began

    'This masked man has appeared at three seperate murder scenes,' Captain Apollo said with a stern authoritive tone. It was the tone of a seasoned officer, a woman who had risen through the ranks of command, to finally become the Chief of Security, 'We haven't been able to positively ID the mask or appearance - the armour doesn't match any of the known fugitives, or Sith that we have registered. As you can tell,' she paused the surveilance footage as the bright light of the fiery crimson blade appeared in the darkness, 'we believe that this is a Sith Agent - though whether he is acting on orders, is acting as a rogue agent, or is simply misdirection, I cannot definitively determine. All our assertions this far are completely made of assumptions.' C'erian gave a pensive look, but did not give away his true feelings. Ysanne Apollo was his selection as Chief of Security for the Coruscant Security Force - the fact that she had brought this case up, meant that she was concerned - moreso than usual, 'Forgive my bluntness Captain,' he sat forward slightly in his seat, bringing his face into the light of the subdued lighting of his office, 'but surely there are more critical Security threats than this man roaming on the street of Coruscant. You've put this man at three different murder scenes, but I know of cases where there are bodies in the double digits. What makes this so important?' The Chief shifted uncomfortably, 'This case presents a unique situation - a Sith Agent on the planets surface is far more of a priority than...' 'A serial killer, or the seventeen legitimate terrorist threats that have been made on significant Republic assets since this morning?' he pressed further, using steady breathing and meditation to keep his composure. 'This person could easily be ten times the threat of any of those,' the Chief asserted, 'We all know that the Sith have agents on the planets surface - we aren't naive to think that the Empire doesn't have intelligence agents crawling over the planet looking for anything they can use to their advantage. We are also aware of known Sith elements in the populace, and the relevant Republic agencies keep an eye on them, and their activities. We feed them the information they want - and only what we can afford to give them - misdirect them where we can. But this man,' she looked at the screen, a frozen snapshot of the blade, 'presents a more complex issue. This person is actively taking out innocent civillians, completely at random. There is no pattern that we can see, no motive other than merely existing. Its unsettling, because it appears that this person actually wants to be seen. If you look at this document,' a new photo filled the screen - a shot of the alleyway from above, taken hours later, 'All of the security camera's along this section were removed - cut likely by the same lightsaber that was used to kill the shop-owner. All except this one,' a cheap arrow appeared on the image, 'This one was perfectly positioned to get a full picture of the murder. If you view the footage, with night-filters applied,' the image changed again, 'You can see that the person looks directly at the camera, just after the attack. Stares straight into the lens.' C'erian nodded, leaning back in his seat. He had been waiting for her to make her point, 'Are you looking for official Jedi support? I can redirect a few of our Master's to the case - but many are tied up in Military operations. We might be able to supply a small number of Jedi to assist in the search for this Sith - if you are right, then I doubt that they likely won't be found unless they really want to be,' he went silent for a moment, his hand stroking his chin slightly, instinctively, looking for a beard that no longer existed, 'The Force is clouded, the dark side obscures all. This is likely a misdirection - a distraction, but we can't be sure. The Republic Military needs to be on alert, Minister,' he turned towards the Minister of Defense, who sat in another seat to the side, full uniform. A hint of grey in his hair, obscured by his standard Military cap, 'Set condition two throughout the Fleet. Suspend any shore leave until we can be certain of the threat.' 'Your Excellency,' the Minister said, a hint of skeptisism in his voice, 'Are you speaking as the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, or the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic?' 'Both,' C'erian said, after consideration, 'and neither. Nothing is certain in these times, but if the Chief of Security is right, there is something considerably wrong with the current predicament. You have your orders, Minister. I am certain that I can trust you to enact them. Master Gnost-Dural will coordinate with you,' he looked at the Kel-Dor Master, who merely gave a short nod of the head, 'The Empire has been quiet too long. The war progresses slowly, on the planets we are engaged in. With the Emperor indisposed... and the Dark Council running it in his name, I cannot be certain of what to expect. This unknown Imperial agent is not to be triffled with. Find him. Find out what they are doing - and do it quickly. Although the Force is clouded, I have a bad feeling about all of this.' The meeting ended shortly thereafter, and the Grand Master simply sat in the darkness of his office, in deep contemplation. His Staff Aide entered, and left the room without saying a word, leaving C'erian to his thoughts.
  10. Into White Silence

    He nodded quietly, but said nothing more in the shuttle - it wasn't the time to be talking about comfort or styles of shuttle, despite the fact that the Chancellor knew he would much prefer something more spacious for the return flight. He was on Corellia for more than just a passing visit, and that at least required him to be somewhat ceremonious in his demenour. The last journey of Master Forseti's lightsabers was something far more meaningful to him than he let on - the fact that the Green Jedi had trusted him with it, meant more than words could convey. He gave a deep bow - lingering for a moment at the depth, before rising to look at her fully, 'The honour is mine, Jedi Solari. Jakar often spoke about you, and I am certain he would be very proud of what you have accomplished so far. The Force is strong with you, and with his teachings to guide your path, I am certain the Green Jedi will have their hands full with you,' he lowered his hood as he said this, 'I appreciate your offer - and I will take you up on it at some time - but for now, I think we are expected...' He tapered off, feeling the same feeling in the Force. Light, soft, and ever so familiar, it was not urgent, yet it reminded him why he was here. Matters had to be attended to in order - until his duty was performed, and the devices handed over, he would not feel comfortable in this Temple. Despite the rain, C'erian knew that this was the perfect setting. The Force worked in mysterious ways - cleansing him of his sins, washing away the spirits of old, and allowing them to enter into a new age, refreshed, clean and purified. At least, a more religious scholar might have thought so. C'erian wasn't so sure. It took them a matter of moments to cross to the central gardens, where a small child bumped into his leg - falling onto the ground in front of him. He looked into the child's eyes - it was obvious to see... such a beautiful child, and would now, never grow up with him... yet he would always be there, in the Force, watching over her. But would a child so young, comprehend something so big yet? C'erian hoped yes, but knew otherwise. It was going to be a tough time for the young one. Yet she smiled and giggled - perhaps Jakar had come himself, to soothe the child's fears. Offered the child, C'erian opened up his arms, and accepted her. The tiny girl snuggled into C'erian deeply - giving him a hug with a strength that he hadn't expected from one so young. As if she knew he needed it - needed the help, the strength, and the will to continue, she gave a squeeze, then motioned for the ground. He put her down - running off to another family member (presumably) who snatched her up. 'Masters,' he said in respect, taking each of their hands one by one, squeezing them with both of his, in a sincere fashion. Then he turned to Essimiri, and his mouth dried up, 'Call me C'erian. I appreciate that - I thank you for your hospitality, and I sincerely give you my deepest condolences. I can only imagine how you feel right now.'
  11. Into White Silence

    Home was an odd aspect for the Jedi Grand Master - and something that he found oddly unsettling. The Green Jedi were very much settled and home on Corellia - they were born, lived and most of them died, on this rock, happy in their knowledge that for their being, Corellia was their home. Ever since C'erian could remember, he had never had a true home. There was the temple he grew up on on Taral V, but that wasn't his home, that was the home of a now extinct religious order that existed for... some reason. That was where his Father had brought him up - a version of him anyway - teaching a young Atrumcavus the path of the Sith, teaching him the skills and powers of the Dark Side of the Force to manipulate the galaxy around them. It was where his body had been born, where he had been brought into this world, but he didn't find any connection to the barren and hospitable world, even when he had visited years later. It was just another world, and had no more bearing on his person than a random asteroid which buzzed through space aimlessly. Nogatan was his next place of residence, but that wasn't his home either. That was where his true memory began to develop, where his personality, his service to the Dark Side had truly come to fruition. That world had been consumed now by its own darkness in the end, but he had felt no reluctance in leaving it. It had served a purpose, a functionary world where he had learned about himself and explored the Force. He made friends, enemies, and made a grand impact on his life, but even if the world remained as it had been during his tenure there, he felt no desire to return. That world was not his home - it was his prison, a prison of the man he could have been, of the man he had almost been, and not a reflection of who he had become. Vornu was a blur, and although the planet remained, the cities now repopulated with citizens he felt no instinct to return. It was another world, and simply marked the beginning of his long journey through the Force. It was a world of corruption and disgrace, where his laziness had almost destroyed his career. He had done nothing except act in autopilot, revelling in his own grief and self-despair. The fact he didn't dive headlong into alcohol or substances still astounded him, with the impassioned guilt he felt driving him to the depths of despair. Never driven, always acting out of duty, he had driven anyone around him away, and forced himself into silent reparations. The taint of the Dark Side still lingered in him - if not physically, but mentally. Vornu was not his home. Vornu was a time he prefered to forget. It wasn't until they returned to Tython, and he gave himself up as a former Sith, that he finally began to make penance for his life. Tython was not his home either, but it was somewhere he thought of fondly. The self-reflection he did there was genuine and healthy, the training and diligence he underwent was a relief, compared to the depths of wallow he had endured before. He spent only a short time on Tython before departing, only to return shortly before the Republic sacked the Temple. In a single moment, Tython went from a place he considered a home, to another world tinged with loss and despair. Nothing to say of Coruscant - a world filled with duty and honour. He had purpose, he had prestige and honour, but it served him a purpose. The world was gold, and he found it hard to remain passionate for a world so consumed with society, that it had devoured the entirety of the natural planet, creating a city so large, that it circled the entire planet. Nothing natural was left about the world - it was a cold and passionless world - beautiful in its own architectural fashion, but lonely in a world filled with trillions. That was not his home. C'erian Eidolon had no home - and perhaps that was simply the way it was meant to be. He gave a brief nod to the Green Jedi's words though, and a brief smile passed his lips. He would never find Corellia to be home to him - but perhaps that wouldn't matter. Home was a simple matter of perspective - he might carry it within him, as a state of being, rather than a physical place. The Jedi often did not get the luxury of considering any place a home - duty before pleasure. The Corellians went in spite of this, a feat that C'erian considered to be amazing, and envious. What a life he might have had, if he had been born here, instead of Taral V. If he had become a Green Jedi, rather than a Sith convert. If he had traveled here, instead of Vornu. But he hadn't, those paths had closed to him, and he had to live with that. It was not right or wrong, it was simply the way of the Force, and the path he was meant to live. He followed Oly closely, the hood at least obscuring his trademark white hair, if not his appearance. He had never met this Jedi before - and in different circumstances, likely never would have. Yet through the mist of duty, there remained great potential there within the signature of the man, a poise in which C'erian found immediately endearing. He was put at ease by the way he spoke, and the directness at which they traveled through the "usual gate", one used by CorSec ordinarily, to the waiting taxi, though the man's choice of words was amusing, 'Your sister might have some use for them - I've found they just tend to get in the way. Bit of housekeeping, general tidy up, you know how it is, when someone vacates their office without notice,' his tone was vaguely comical, but there was a deeper sense of uncertainty and grief behind the words. They arrived at the taxi quickly, the Jedi Knight opening the door for him. He entered, and the Jedi followed suit, the taxi speeding off without word towards the Enclave, 'I am used to a slightly bigger shuttle when I travel. I must admit that that shuttle was a little bit confined for my tastes, but it does tend to blend in a bit,' he lowered his hood, now that they were safely within the shuttle, 'I am not relishing the idea of getting back into it, but duty before comfort, I suppose. The path of the Jedi will take a bit of getting used to, again.' Unusual comments for a Jedi, but perhaps not so unusual for a Supreme Chancellor. The Enclave quickly came in sight, but it would be a few minutes before they arrived.
  12. Into White Silence

    As soon as his eyes completely adjusted back into reality, C'erian entered in the new coordinates into his system. Immediately, the Corellian Security Force began to register his system, asking for identification codes and transportation duties. The process was straight forward - with C'erian required to say nothing as the system automatically processed. A few of his minor systems lagged for a moment or two while it happened. This was not uncommon - with the thousands of vessels entering into and out of major hubs like Corellia, many of the systems had been automated. Though there were people on the ground - or perhaps in Space Stations orbiting above the planet - monitoring the goings and comings, the basic subroutines allowed for most visitors to pass through into Corellian Airspace without complaint. C'erian didn't usually travel this way - the usual security routines were generally bypassed on his account, or done long before he ever arrived - not that he got to travel all that much. Weeks upon weeks trapped inside the giant mausoleum of political ambition and backstabbing, C'erian had met dozens of career politicians who hadn't stepped foot in their actual jurisdiction for years. They were so sure of their status, that they lived practically within the confines of the Senate Tower - or the neighboring buildings. In the first days, he had tried to visit as many planets that he could - but there were too many. Millions of worlds out there, each with billions of people residing upon them. He could have spent five minutes at each planet, allowing for three seconds of travel time to the next planet, and still never see more than ten percent of the worlds he supposedly championed. The galaxy was too big - he couldn't be everywhere. Today marked the first time he had traveled to Corellia. The Force was quiet around him - and he assumed this was a good thing. His years of study with the Force had almost been forgotten - if it hadn't been for the incident on Alderaan, he would never have even touched a lightsaber. He hadn't trained, refused to meditate, and hadn't studied the Jedi Code in years. His training had come to a stand still, his power rusty, his skill less than refined. He had only made it off Alderaan by sheer luck, not by any skill of his. His form had been rusty, something that he would need to rectify if he was to stand as Grand Master of the Jedi Order - even if it was in name only. Things had to change, and once again, they had to start with him. He flew the small shuttle smoothly onto the landing pad that was assigned to him within the Coronet City Spaceport, using his oldest skills to navigate the controls. It had been a long time since had had arrived on Vornu in his stolen shuttle, defecting from the Empire, but it felt all the same to him. So many years had passed, and now he was, steering a small shuttle into another Spaceport, protecting his identity and pretending to be someone that he was not. The Force swum around him as he descended the landing pads, touching the shuttle down gently, letting the engines whine for a few moments before switching them off. It staged down in four distinct stages, each system turning off one by one, the sound echoing to a stop. He stood up from his confined seat, his head almost touching the sealing, as he grabbed the small box containing the lightsabers that he had put behind it. He took the Green Cloak and spun it around himself, fastening it around his neck. With a flick of his wrist, he pushed the hood over his head, his long white hair tied up behind his head in a confined bun. He reached up and flicked the docking ramp switch, the ramp descending with a sudden burst of air, as the inside of the vessel quickly matched the pressure of the outside. C'erian, his long green cloak wrapped around his otherwise black robes, carrying the wooden box sealed with the lightsabers of the late Grand Master, marched with purpose down the ramp, into Corellia. He stiffled his nerves, and allowed himself to embrace the planet, allowing the Force to fill him. To the world around him, he was nothing more than another Green Jedi arriving back home. But that was not the case for everyone around him. There would be someone here to meet him shortly, of this, the Jedi here had told him implicitly.
  13. Into White Silence

    His small one man shuttle exited hyperspace with the gentle thud, the sunlight engines slowed him down with sudden and almost impossible speed, the Grand Master waking suddenly, his eyes hazy. The blur of hyperspace was replaced by the planet of Corellia, and he was surrounded by dozens of shuttles and vessels big and small, materializing and de-materializing as authorization and clearances were given. The Founder World loomed in front of him, the somewhat surreal world remaining all but a mystery to the Supreme Chancellor as his eyes adjusted back into reality, his focus returning. Only the small alarms in his console had awoken him from his deep contemplative meditation, with a myriad of lights and signals shining on his control console forcing him into reality. If you wish for your weapons to be returned to you, then you'll find them in the usual case in my office, along with a pair of others. Regardless of whether you choose to take up your old weapons again, I would ask that the other pair are returned to the Enclave on Corellia, so that they can be placed with the other fallen Green Jedi. His purpose here, was clear, and so he had arranged for the office of the Supreme Chancellor to be... unavailable for a few weeks. In the year and a bit since he had taken office, he hadn't taken a break, so he took one now. Using the personal contacts and systems of the Jedi Order, he contacted the Green Jedi on Corellia, and informed them of his decision to travel himself to enact the late Grand Master's final wishes. They were more than willing to accept him, especially when he made it clear about his wish to travel quietly. Pomp and circumstance were good for certain arrangements, but in this... it required a more ginger touch. The Jedi of Corellia were not to disapproving of the main Order, nor did they stray for any of the main tenants that the Order laid out in their Code. Yet there were differences along the way - different ideologies that the Green Jedi had adopted, straying from the traditional path and the self-isolated relationship with their home planet. Their relationship with the Order then was a tentative one, working with them when it suited their interests. While they remained aligned, the Orders continued to communicate freely. C'erian hadn't taken much time to study the Green Jedi in the past, but circumstances had forced him to change his stance. His Staff Aide, Den Hadium, had tried to convince him to stay behind. His most trusted advisor and confidante, and most trusted in all things to do with his scheduling, administrative duties, and all things related to the Office of the Supreme Chancellor. He was, to C'erian, practically indispensable. For a young man, he was talented, and passionate about his duty. With thin glasses wrapped over his blue eyes, his brown hair was always short and well groomed, with the faintest appearance of a five o'clock shadow a familiar part of the man's appearance. He rejected the long robes of the Senate, opting for a more functional jacket and dress pants, always in black. 'Your Excellency,' he had asked, as C'erian moved quickly about his office. It had only been a few hours since he had told the Jedi High Council of his appointment to the role of Grand Master. It went about as well as expected, though better than he had imagined. The blessing of Jakar had been a blessing from the Force itself, giving him the authority to act, 'the Senate can not do without you right now. There is a motion on the table regarding...' C'erian cut him off abruptly, his voice calmer and more certain than it had been for months, 'There is always an important motion on the table, but it is nothing that the Senate cannot possible decide upon alone. I am nothing more than a moderator in the debate, and I have had enough of being their babysitter. Have the Vice Chair fill in for me, I've barely missed a session since I was elected - it will do him good to do something for a change.' Hadium had argued with him for some time after, trying to get him to change his mind. It was pointless - C'erian had made his mind up, and in having done so, would not be moved. On the way to his shuttle, he stopped by Jakar's Office -- his office, he supposed -- the doors opening to his identification, now changed to accept his and his alone. The room felt sombre and quiet, the lights flickered on as he entered, the doors closing behind him automatically with a soft buzz. Emotions welled up within, which he made no attempt to stifle, but he did not cry. He gave a breath of meditation, and accepted his Jedi training, allowing him to manage his emotions. With time, this would become easier, as his old habits returned. As the Grand Master had told him, the case was on the desk. He clicked open the box, finding the two lightsabers that he had given to Jakar on Vornu sitting in there, in front of another unfamiliar pair. He clipped his to his belt, and closed the case, leaving the former Grand Master's lightsabers inside. Then he took the box under one arm, turning to leave, before stopping in his tracks. Hanging off one of the chairs was a long green robe - marking the wearer as one of the Green Jedi. Perhaps one of Jakar's - perhaps left by someone else, C'erian did the only sensible thing... and stole it. Robe in one hand, box in the other, he headed to the shuttle. And now, he sat, staring at the planet, his mind not admiring the beauty of the Core Founder, but focused on the box stowed behind him. This trip was anything but a pleasure-trip, there was much that needed doing. Still lost, still floundering in the pool of responsibility, and a galaxy hinging on his stability and understanding, C'erian Eidolon knew that this was no simple journey. While it would begin on Corellia, and end on Coruscant, the path in the middle was murky. He could not abandon the galaxy, but he needed to find... something. The Force was guiding him, and he allowed himself to flow with it, acting with its will. For the first time since he took the oath of office, announcing himself as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, he knew he was doing the right thing.
  14. A Tremor in Senate

    As if the former Grand Master had lifted a terrible burden from his shoulders, C'erian looked up at the spectral image of the late man feeling so much more connected, and sure of himself than he had moments before. If merely by giving his final seal of approval on an act that could be construed as terrible, yet turned to appear genuine and for the better judgement of the galaxy, he had relieved him of a great burden. The Force swelled around the man more-so in Death than it perhaps had ever done in life - the self-sacrifice evident, the purity in his action genuine and without reserve. Jakar Forseti bestowed upon him without hesitation the greatest gift he could ever give to an incoming Grand Master, and for likely the last time, lightened the load that he would have to carry. He looked at the man in a new light. He had been his most trusted advisor - a man, who despite their different paths and lifestyles in life, had always stood by his side as a voice of reason, 'You do me too much justice, old friend. Though, you are only a new friend to me. You helped rationalize some of my more risky moves within the Senate, spoke up for the Jedi when they needed a voice of calm and quiet reason. You stabilized the order, from the violent and public demise of its last Grand Master. You were the Jedi the Order needed, in a time when it needed to be quiet, reserved and rebuild. You brought the Order around - you created the framework, now I will use it, to bring order and justice to the galaxy - to use conventional and unconventional means to stop the Sith. 'The Jedi Order has to evolve, and with your leadership, it has transformed quickly. The Council is no longer a pointless tribunal of elder Jedi, but an active war council. The Jedi Order has flurished underneath you - and it will greatly mourn your passing. I will never be the Grand Master you were, nor would I pretend to be. You died in the field, in the act of saving the galaxy, acting before your own self-interest to ensure that we were protected. I can see that now. I am a different man, a different leader, but I need to change... and accept the Force, rather than deny it. I gave you my sabers for the better judgement of the galaxy, because I thought it was the only thing I could do, the best thing. Now I take them back up, only reluctantly, to ensure that I can fulfill the duties of that the role demands. 'I will finish.... what you started,' C'erian said, his words emphasizing the truth in the matter. The Force swelled in him - and he allowed himself to embrace it totally, rather than blocking his connection, and ignoring the inner voice that spoke. It was like embracing an old friend, and acquaintance from a former age, familiar yet new. It filled him with every breath, his body filling with it - yet it had always been there. He accepted it, allowed it to be, and would now have to be the greatest advocate for the Way of the Force. The Force was always a ill with itself, yet there was nothing wrong with the energy he felt now. It was not right, it was not wrong, it simply was. The Force had spoken in its own mysterious way, and he now, had to act with the cards that had been given. The galaxy could never be the same 'I will take your lightsabers to Corellia,' he said finally, with only a moments hesitation. The act would be one of purpose, a formal end of Jakar's path with the Force, and yet a new beginning, a ceremonial part of his journey into the path he was about to step into, 'It is the least I can do for you. You maintained the greatest link to Corellia - now I will need to establish, at least informally, a mutual respect between our Orders. It won't be easy, but it will be done, with due reverence and tradition. We are at war, we can not be at war with ourselves, we must be united against the threat of the Sith War Machine. Even if they will always hold Corellia's interests over that of the galaxy...' He did not linger, 'I will give it this Initiative an official blind eye, both to the Senate and the Order. I can't approve of what I don't know, but... I will look away only as long as they don't pose a risk to the Jedi, the Republic and the ideals we stand for. As long as their gaze is turned on the Sith, I will quietly provide them with what I can, more than that I can not promise. This war needs to end, and if they can make an impact, then it will be for the betterment of the Republic, but I warn them that if they step over the line, I will not be able to protect them. If they hasten the end of the war, I will exonerate them, but if they fail... then they will likely either fall by Sith hands, or spend a lifetime within Republic prisons. This much I am sure they already know. I am sure they will contact me if and when they need something. I am sure that they will find the methods for contacting me outside of prying eyes.' The Green Jedi may not like what he said, but he liked already knew. C'erian was now, a somewhat seasoned politician. Blurring the line in the name of the greater good was not outside of his viewpoint - as long as it worked. They would either be heroes of the Republic, or criminals of war. There was no middle ground - only absolutes, 'Despite everything you have said, I will miss our talks. Your guidance. We are entering into a new era, and I am doing it alone. I knew you for so short a time, yet I feel like I have known you all my life. You are the mentor I needed years ago, and with more time, I feel that our friendship could have sparked further. I will miss you. The Jedi teach us not to mourn those who have passed, for they are now one with the Force - as you once tried to teach me, when my Padawan...' He didn't finish, the sentence needed no ending, 'When I listen to the Force, and seek guidance from it through meditation, I will always imagine that you are there, as you will be, in one way or another, to guide me. You will guide me, be another voice of reason in my mind... corporeal or not, true or not, your voice will live on inside me, and the actions I perform in the name of the Jedi. I just hope that I live up to fill the void you have left. The galaxy is smaller without you in it.'
  15. A Tremor in Senate

    The voice sounded, and the Guards stood at alert. For a moment, they almost considered sending the entire building into alert, before the realization hit them. With a subtle nod, and an almost serene understanding of the Force, they stopped the lift as requested, and left, shutting down this particular lift from the outside, standing just outside the door... just in case. C'erian barely had a chance to register what was happening before the incorporeal form of the former Grand Master appeared before him - apologizing to him for his death, almost as casually as if he had forgotten a meeting, or misplaced on of C'erian's favourite holodisks. You incorporeal bastard, C'erian wanted to say, but he didn't, You left me here, high and dry, to sort out this without you. How dare you do this to me? How could you leave me, when I need you here more than ever. You ungrateful bastard - you stupid fool. What did you go and die for? Why would you go and do something so stupid, and leave me to pick up the pieces. You arrogant, selfish, self-indulgent fool. I hate you! I hate you! 'What did you go and do a stupid thing like die for,' C'erian said, his voice hiding the anger he had briefly felt. He didn't mean the words he thought - grief, like all things, affected everyone. Jakar would have felt it, nonetheless, his emotions were not hidden from the man, nor would he have tried to. Not that he could ever have hidden anything from the Grand Master. His voice had a hint of humour in it, like an old friend ribbing another for something minor, when in fact it was something more. Behind the veil, he grieved, but he could not lift it now, or ever, if he was to lead the Republic as he intended, 'This really is a mess. The Senate is in chaos - the Jedi Council is going to resent this. I have no choice... and yet I feel I am still making the wrong decision.' He gave a deep breath - as if letting all the emotions of the last few hours flow out of him. Embracing his old Jedi teachings, he exhaled deeply, connecting with the Force, trying to find serenity in meditation. Awake meditation, 'I will never be able to replace you. I renounced the Order, in front of you, gave you back my sabers. Now I'm supposed to take them back again, and be the Grand Master of it all? The Jedi will revolt - yet there are no other alternatives. A former Jedi, coming back when it suits him, a politician leading the Jedi Order... it'll never stand.' He looked at Jakar, 'I've never been a particularly charismatic man. I've never been interesting. I've been haunted by the shadow of my other self - by the Emperor. I am barely my own man, barely a person, and I'm expected to... lead the Senate, and the Jedi. I have the support of the Senate based on my ideals, but I have no drive, no force behind me. I have achieved nothing in the two years I've been in office - we are no closer to winning the war than ever, and every day counts. History will call me the biggest failure since the beginning of the Republic itself. Why am I doing this? Surely, there has to be a better way. 'I try... to be my own man. To be a Jedi, yet I keep faltering behind my own drive. Every step is a struggle, ever movement is a deliberate and planned one, yet... I am powerless. I am not a Jedi, I'm not a politician, and yet I hold the keys to the kingdom. The order in my hand makes me the most powerful man to exist in the Republic in over a thousand years... but in the wrong hands... with the wrong influence...' he faltered, 'I don't think I am strong enough Jakar. I don't think I can handle this. Its going to kill me, I know it.'
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