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Grand Master Eidolon

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105 Kind of a Big Deal

About Grand Master Eidolon

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    Caretaker of First Knowledge

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  1. Won't Get Fooled Again

    The transmission came through, giving him a direct ultimatum. He had escaped arrest once, but now it seemed that the Supreme Chancellor and his trained lackies, would not be taking "no" for an answer. He might almost have complied, in different circumstances; the guilt he carried with him was extremely fragile and visible for all to see. But they stepped over a line, forced him to make a decision for the sake of the Jedi Order. They threatened the very initiates who created the backbone of the Jedi Order, threatening the peace he had fought to achieve. In the end, C'erian considered glumly, perhaps the Sith are right in the end. Peace is a lie. What atrocities did I commit in the name of peace, in the name of the Force, only for the balance of it to be threatened again by something so innocuous. Regardless, he didn't get long to consider the philosophic merits of the Sith vs. the Jedi. The Force was in motion, the very galaxy seemed to be spinning around this moment, no matter how they acted now, people were going to die. It was his duty to ensure it was not the innocent, who paid for the deeds of the guilty. 'I guess Sith'ari, we are in this together, whether we like it or not,' shooting a glance toward @Darth Evastus that seemed no less chilly than it had been at the start. There would be no time for animosity or lengthy dialgoue now however, so he lowered his scathing gaze, 'This will truly put your alliance to the test. I hope, for the sake of Dantooine, that your words are more than just for show. We need your help now. The rest is up to you.' C'erian could remember the way back to his shuttle, but he hadn't expected to be running for it. The station rocked from side to side as the turbo-laser hit, C'erian braced himself as he hit a nearby wall with some force. The denizens of the station no longer seemed to be working, as alarms began to sound around the surrounding area - but his shuttle was more or less as he had left it mere moments before. He reached out with the Force to ensure that @Zyann Aari was okay - letting her know of his presence, and his destination. His message felt calm and ordered, one of action. The Grand Master was not running anymore. It was time to make a stand. As his shuttle began to lift off from the docking bay, he knew that the uneasy alliance they had forged today would pose issues some time in the not so distant future, but it was time to see how far this alliance was willing to go. The Jedi were in trouble.
  2. Won't Get Fooled Again

    C'erian went to speak up, but Zyann rightfully gave him a glance. He nodded his head quietly, and remained where he was. He had spent a lifetime trying to atone for his actions, whether it was trying to seek forgiveness for the acts he committed when he defected from Pravus Axiom by spending a year in complete silence; how he ran away from Tython after Ellina had taken him as an apprentice merely because he believed himself to be unworthy; the guilt from his Padawan who was killed when he returned to Tython; or the suffering he felt he caused with the crusade against the Empire. Time and time again, he had paid his fair share for his mistakes, now it was time to listen when he was told. He wasn't the only one who did those deeds, while he may have made the order, many many people could have rejected those orders. The blood wasn't entirely on his hands. He would pay for those deaths one day. That day was not today. The Sith'ari addressed him, speaking to him as if a politician rather than the Sith he was. He touched the young girl's head as he did so, not out of menace or as a means of protection, but out of genuine love and concern. Emotion, but not dark ones, filled with the Sith'ari's speech. The Grand Master was concerned, 'It is easy to want someone to die. Plotting revenge, enacting retribution, these are knee-jerk impulses which satisfy a base part of the human existence. As Jedi, we train ourselves to ignore these impulses, to meditate and come to a more true and measured reaction to the stimulus around us. 'I know the Sith. I passed through the Academy on Nogatan, and served as a Neophyte in the Sith Legion there. Darth Verrin mentored me in the arts of Sith healing, Darth Feralis mentored me on the art of war, Darth Cideon punished me for losing a fight against a Chiss. My interactions with the Sith are numbered and complicated - the scenes I saw, and did, keep me up at night still,' C'erian paused to briefly compose himself, 'The Sith are not creatures, of this you are correct. They are monsters. Guided by a false vision of what is right and what is wrong, believing that their judgement of the galaxy is the only true accord. Your Sith don't just want to survive - they want to rule. 'Your misguided philosophy deludes you into believing you are sacrificing the weak to unshackle yourselves from the binds which tie society down. Lucian -- Valyrian -- saw only his vision. A galaxy of order, his Order, with the Sith in control of every aspect. What then? Peace? Peace is a lie, after all, your own Code demands it,' he looked at the Sith'ari critically, 'You are a threat to the very balance of the Force, and the stability of the galaxy, your family will likely be destroyed by your own greed and selfish reasoning. We would all be fools to trust the intentions of the Sith!' He paused, his voice having grown to a crescendo, 'Why should we trust the word of a Sith, who is likely to double-cross us at the earliest possible convenience? Why should we trust that this is not just an operation coordinated by the Sith to lull us into a false sense of security, before they murder us all in cold blood. This is madness. Absolute madness.' He looked at the room, going from person to person before finally resting on the Sith'ari once more, 'And perhaps that is exactly what we need. The Jedi have hardly been the pillars of integrity in recent years. Whether you believe in the fanatical ideology of the Sith, or the religious fanatasism of the Jedi, the facts remain that; facts. We need to coordinate, to work together, if we are to stop the threat to the galaxy. I don't like it. I don't trust you. I am deeply uncomfortable with it. 'But,' and he looked at Zyann with an apologetic glance, 'it is not my decision to make. I've made enough decisions on the fate of this galaxy, and it has all ended up here. Just because it makes me uneasy, doesn't mean that I believe we should go against it. The Force is forever in motion; we must act according to its will. The fact that the Sith have come here at all, knowing they are outnumbered, is judgement enough.'
  3. Won't Get Fooled Again

    C'erian had felt a slight shift in the flow of the Force, but it gave him no intention as to what that meant. In this situation, filled with bounty hunters and the Grand Admiral over there, the Force was almost impossible to predict or foresee, with frightening possibilities. While the Jedi hardly expected one of the Hutt's to roll their esteemed selves into the room, there were an alarming number of capitalists which had made a great deal of profit from the Empire's end. Him time away from Dantooine and the Holy City of Jedha, had given him a glimpse onto the brutality of the galaxy he had a hand in carving. Yet as the Sith'ari arrived and announced his presence, C'erian couldn't help but move his hand to his waist eager to finish what he started on Dromund Kaas. The fact that Sith survived, let alone the arguably most powerful member of Darth Valyrian's Dark Council, stood against everything that he had fought to achieve. How many more had scurried into the rocks and crevices of their worlds? And had Valyrian managed to survive, despite him. Questions rose, as stood taller, ready to activate him blade and take the man down. Consider for a moment, he thought silently to himself, allowing the Force to cool him down. Too quick, too rash, he had spent years regretting the actions that had led them to this path. How many worlds had he razed in his vigour? So quick to act, he didn't stop to consider what the man had actually said. Sith'ari - it was not a title unfamiliar to him. If Darth Valyrian truly still lived, he would not have allowed another to take the mantle of Sith'ari, nor would this man have allowed a Sith Emperor that had allowed his Empire to crumble into dust to remain. Darth Valyrian was dead - he had known this for years, but perhaps this was the man that bested him. C'erian's old mentor Darth Verrin, appeared not long after - perhaps his crusade against the Sith had been less successful than he had originally considered. Pushing instinct aside, he forced himself to let go of the hilt, and allow his hands to rest on the front of his robes. He felt the hand of Zyann touch his arm, which brought him lightly out of his reverie, 'I was never alone... I just needed time to reflect on the things that brought us here. I see you haven't seen fit to strip me of honorific yet, Speaker,' a light smile crossed his lips, though he barely felt like smiling, 'I would have thought that the Jedi Council would have disavowed me long before now.' He turned to the Sith'ari then, and the congregation in general, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, 'We are all here because of the actions I started. I led the Galactic Republic, and the Jedi, on a holy crusade against the Sith Empire as I exacted my revenge on Valyrian... my brother... for his attempt on my life. The fact that the Sith still exist as a cohesive movement is a sickening fact that I will have to deal with. I upset the balance of the Force, and it has twisted. I didn't stick around to deal with the mess I created - I walked away. The Sith'ari is right - if there is anyone who should be walking away from this meeting in chains, it should be me,' he looked at the Sith'ari with almost disgust, 'I am the destroyer of worlds, butcher of millions, I can barely condemn the Sith for their practices when mine... speak for themselves. If the Speaker of the Jedi has invited them, then I am in no position to argue with her leadership and finer judgement.' Words which hurt to say, despite how true they were. The thoughts he had carried with him for years, voiceless. The Crimes upon the Force, which he knew one day he would answer for.
  4. Won't Get Fooled Again

    In an era of such disruption and uncertainty, the Grand Master was no longer sure he had made the right choice. A small unmarked shuttle, size enough for only one, exited hyperspace with a sudden jolt, leaving the Jedi no more time for self-reflection and consideration. It had been somewhat of a journey to this obscure location, C'erian had spent much of it sitting in quiet meditation waiting for the auto-pilot to inform him of his arrival. A sudden jolt to his senses was all he required to bring himself back into reality - somewhat dazed and lagged, he took control of the shuttle and aimed towards the large docking bay window. Once a Supreme Chancellor in his own right, C'erian would have arrived with a massive entourage of security personnel, and a Fleet of warships that would have stretched across the horizon. That was two elections ago; Maia Aranea was a nice enough woman, sturdy enough to deal with ramifications of a galaxy he had forged - and mop up the mess he had started. His resignation had been no shock, he merely dodged the impeachment that was likely to follow, all of his emergency powers had been stripped of him, and he was freed from the shackles of responsibility. He had attended one tribunal following the massacre of Sith Worlds, once summoned by Chancellor Arenea. It lasted an entire week, and forced him to testify to what had happened. Not a single face on the panel of judges moved a muscle the entire week, C'erian was certain that if they had smiled, they might have cracked their pretentious faces. He was asked to sit on a second series of tribunals, to which he declined. They sent an envoy to take him, and he politely sent them away. Arenae tried twice more, before the attempts stopped. He stepped down because he had nothing to prove to the galaxy, or to a panel of jurors. A cloud of confusion and chaos rested over the entirety of Coruscant, so he did his very best to avoid it as much as possible. Of course, that had led to Iohannis Metac. His shuttle landed with a soft hiss, and stepped out of the one-man shuttle to a small delegation. It took very little reach with the Force to tell the emotion of the room - which immediately put C'erian somewhat on edge. Dressed in full white, the Grand Master wore simple ceremonial robes underneath, with a larger hooded robe over-top. The hood was down, with his long white hair, which had been tied quite simply behind him, to flow. Although in previous months he had allowed a long white beard to cover his face, he had trimmed it down to a thin face-hugging beard, which reached from ear to ear, no more than an inch thick. Despite the white hair and beard, C'erian was looking almost as youthful as ever, his skin smooth and almost unblemished. The dark rings that had grown under his eyes during his time as Supreme Chancellor had faded, now that he was allowed time to rest and recuperate. He almost reached for one of the twin blades attached to his waist, but held off. Although the trio of escorts were on edge, they weren't an immediate threat to him, nor was there any ill intention. He approached slowly, his hands to either side of him with palms open and outstretched, as if trying to prove he was no threat. They would know who he was, and what we was capable of, he didn't need a dagger to hurt them. But he had played the role of politician for a long time, and had learned a few tips along the way. 'I am C'erian Eidolon,' he said clearly and calmly, 'Grand Master of the Jedi Order. I was informed that you would be expecting me. I have come alone - you may check my shuttle, though others from the Order may be arriving separarely.' Ironically, Grand Master of the Order in name, he had served much his own intentions over the last few years. At the time, the Council had been lenient with him, and allowed him to keep the honorific of Grand Master - a title. While he had very little communication with the High Council over recent times, he had not yet been informed that he had been stripped of his title, or that the Speaker of the Jedi was even interested in doing so. He was going through a phaze - lengthy periods of absence, extended travels across the galaxy in search of nothing and everything. Time to think. Force knows, he had done so much of it. The trio each gave their own courtesies, before they began their journey to their final destination. They lead him through a series of halls filled with workers. What a strange series of events had led him here. Chancellor Metac had already attempted to contact him, what must have been hours after his election to office. The message was simple; justice. He was to offer himself up to the nearest Republic Officer, turn himself in for questioning over the massacre of the Sith Worlds. Where Arenea had been willing to allow him space, Metac was in for blood. He only had to turn on the Holonet to see the rest. The galaxy had turned upside down, and C'erian no longer knew what it was he had created. This was no longer a galaxy at war, Jedi and Sith, but one at war with itself. Rather than the shining peace that could have heralded down for centuries, Metac had turned it into discord and distrust. It was why he had come, out of his self-imposed exile, out of his meditation, to see who sent this message. Once more, he might be forced to take up arms, when he had sworn that he would never again. When he entered the final room, he was recognised. If they were shocked to see him, they hid it well, giving various gestures to achnoledge his arrival. He crossed his arms, and stood silently, allowing the Force to sense what was happening around him. Whatever was happening here, whoever intended on coming, C'erian had a feeling that the party was only getting started.
  5. Home

    'Among the motley crew of misfits and tag-alongs we've inherited,' C'erian said with gentle humour, 'Things have changed considerably since Tython - but as the Grand Master I do have some amount of authority here. I have no doubt that we can find space for you in any capacity that suits you,' there was a glint in his eye, 'The Force works in mysterious ways, my old friend, and the path on which we all must take is as murky and winding as a river. One moment we are walking in shallow waters surrounded by the calm, the next we are engulfed by water, uncertain of where and when we are.' He gave a pause, taking a breath, 'Apologies, I find myself a little more philosophical nowadays, especially when training the newest students in the Force, and it slips into my every day conversation. The Force has brought you here for whatever reason, so perhaps the Force will give you clarity and reason on what you are meant to do now you are here. Simply meditate, or allow the river to guide you towards where you are meant to be. All you need to do is immerse yourself in the tide and allow yourself to discover yourself,' he paused, 'until you figure it out, perhaps you'll stay at this Enclave and sit in on a few lessons; you might relearn some things, and give some pointers while you're at it. There is plenty they could learn from you. 'There is a world of possibility here, and the Jedi will need people just like you in order to see it through,' his voice was gentler now, a little more thoughtful, 'At the moment, I hold the position of Grand Master, and lead the Order, but my time at the helm is quickly coming to an end. The Council has agreed to appoint a Speaker of the Jedi - an elected representative to be the Head of the Jedi Order, so that I can take some time away once more.' He was quick to silence any concern that Ellina might have, 'My friend, Grand Master Jakar Forsetti passed into the Force during a routine mission a few years back, I escorted his lightsaber back to his home world of Corellia, in order for the Green Jedi to pay their respects to his memory. At the time, his spirit came to me and tried to mentor me in the Force, and tried to guide me on a path through the galaxy to discover myself. For reasons I still don't know, I declined, and returned back to Coruscant; something I class as one of my many great mistakes. I have approached the Council and sought they leave to go on an extended leave of absence; to travel the path that Jakar laid out for me, and to finish what I started.' He rested his hand on her shoulder, 'I haven't completely decided whether I'm going to come back yet, but knowing you are here, in some capacity, might motivate me. I leave tomorrow - a day later, and you might have missed me entirely. I expect that I will be stripped of my titles long before I get back - but I leave as a Grand Master, in title if not in duties. I will pay for my crimes, Ellina, the path to the destruction of the Sith is paved with regret, guilt and crimes of which I cannot name. But vindication that what I did, I did in the name of the Force.'
  6. Home

    'You have no need to apologise Ellina,' he said softly, letting her thin arms wrap around his body. It was comforting, after all this time, after hearing of the deaths of so many people he used to know, to see a face return from the ether, and come home, 'it is I that needs to apologise.' His heart sunk, as he remembered the day he had walked out of the enclave on Vornu, leaving behind his Master and friend, and disappearing into the void of space, 'I travelled a long time to find myself after I left. Found an old Jedi on a backwater planet who helped me figure out who I was, and what I could become. I became a Master, for a short while,' the memory of his lost apprentice, killed during the destruction of the Vornu Enclave burned heavy on his mind. It was the day that he had left the Order, handed his lightsabers to Jakar and headed to Coruscant to sort it all out. 'If I could only tell you the stories - you would never believe them. I'm sure you heard that I was recently stood down as Supreme Chancellor of the Republic,' amongst other things of course. The struggle of political life, the intricacies of balancing power, and finally the death of the Jedi Grand Master and his faithful friend, which forced him into a position of extreme political power - being both Grand Master by appointment of the Senate, and Supreme Chancellor. The most politically powerful being in the galaxy, for a time, 'I was glad when I was able to let the responsibility go. I've made many mistakes; and they will haunt me until the end of days. My puritanical hunt of the Sith, after the attack that nearly took my life... I decimated the Empire, but the cost...' He left the words sink in the air. He had sinned, in the name of peace and justice, but sooner or later he would be found guilty for his crimes - even if it was in Chaos his soul would find it. What he had done to destroy Lucian, to rid the galaxy of the scurge that is the Sith... 'I have more questions,' he said, letting the thoughts of his past sink to the back of his mind, 'where have you been? And what brought you back?'
  7. Home

    The funniest thing about life, was the way it was forever changing. As he sat silently within the meditation chambers in the Dantooine Enclave, his mind was far from the troubles of the mundane; trivial Jedi politics within the Enclave, Masters who disliked their students, students acting unruly within the confines of the Enclave and in the greater community, and more. Here within the deepest reaches of the Force, the Grand Master found himself almost totally immersed in the current, following the rippling vibrations of the midiclorians as they ebbed and flowed throughout the galaxy. It was here in the stillness of the Force, that C'erian could feel entirely whole. Without the pressures of the outside world, he could meditate deeply without fear of interruption. He could forget his titles, his names, his own being and for a short period become part of something much larger and more omniscient than himself. His own body was nothing but matter, in the deepest reaches of the Force where no light existed except for the constant glow of the Force swirling around the galaxy. He could sit outside of his own body, disconnected from the very reality that surrounded it, and simply completely immerse himself in the constant weaving of time and energy that forever took place outside of the conscious minds of mortals. It was dangerous at times. Sometimes the pull of the Force felt almost too great, the sense of oneness and serenity so impressive, that he found himself almost slipping forever from conscious mind into the universal hive mind, blending his own body and soul with the Force and becoming one with it forever. Yet as he found himself trying, a conscious part of his body found itself screaming into reality, reminding him that he was only a visitor in the spectral plane for now; that he had far more to do before the Force would allow him to join it. It was in moments like this that the face of Jakar Forsetti flashed into his mind, his face telling him ever so clearly (without speaking) that it wasn't his time. Slowly, and with great care, C'erian pulled himself out of his reverie, allowing his signature to drain back into his conscious shell. Sensation began to fill his muscles and fingers again, as he slowly adjusted to the physical world, after spending months in constant meditation. Joints that hadn't been used for all that time began to flash back into sensation, slowly forcing his eyes open, waiting for them to adjust to the light. It hadn't of course been months, only a matter of hours since he stepped into meditation, yet time felt different when so completely immersed in the Force. Hours felt like centuries, and centuries like hours. He would awaken from meditation sometimes with no grasp of how long he had been gone - but, as he slowly blended into reality, his sense of time and progression kicked in, telling him it was still the same day that he had stepped into his meditation. He pulled his legs out from underneath him, and placed them firmly on the ground - not standing up, but allowing himself to adjust. Blood rushed from his squished legs and pins and needles flowed through his extremities, quickly subsiding. He tilted his head as reality began to clear; feeling a presence in the Force that he hadn't felt for such a long time. A smile began to form in the corner of his mouth, quickly replaced with regret over the way he had left his former Master. Ellina had come to Dantooine; where she had been, what she had been doing, almost irrelevant. As soon as he was able, he stood up, finding his balance and opened the door. It was only a quick walk from the meditation room to the Council Chambers, but Ellina was doing nothing to cloak her signature in the Force. The doors slid open as he walked towards them, and he strode through, looking towards the woman he had once called his Master, 'Master Kast, it is an honour to have you within our chambers. Welcome.' Yet, something was wrong; different with the woman he had once known. He said nothing, letting his greeting speak for itself.
  8. 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.'
  9. 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.'
  10. 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.
  11. 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.
  12. 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.
  13. Knighting Ceremony of Coventry Desperaux

    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.
  14. 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.
  15. 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.