Thousands of small lights dot the serene night sky. Each the exhaust of an airspeeder traveling through the grey early morning heavens, glowing like prismatic gems. The constant flow of traffic is unending; even at this young hour, the skies are already crowded. This scene is repeated all over the city-planet. Airspeeders weave around gargantuan, towering buildings that stretch up and paw at the heavens above. You watch the tiny pinpricks of light slide across your view, only to be replaced by another, consistently travelling the same demarked paths through the sky. Your mind conjures up stories for each spec of light, wondering what has each person up at this ungodly hour. You decide one is a man, travelling so early to work, desperate for a promotion from an already demanding job. Another is a woman travelling back to her apartment from a rendezvous with a secret lover, already missing his arms wrapping her in a loving embrace. One, you decide, is a gaggle of friends being taxied back from the never-ending clubs filled with overflowing liquor and beautiful women, all intoxicated out of their minds. This last one brings a smile to your face as you have enjoyed many a night enjoying the same experiences.

Your eyes refocus from the beautiful cityscape of Coruscant at night to the windowpane you are gazing through. In your reflection in the transparisteel, the smile on your chalk-white face remains as you recall nights well spent, surrounded by your friends having a jovial time. You continue to study your own visage; deep vertical scars mar your face, from which the smile has now disappeared. They are letters from a long-dead language, making up the name of a foe that bested you years ago. Your piercing bright red eyes analyse themselves in the reflection; you gaze into them as if searching for secrets about yourself you have yet to discover. Then you look at your white-blond hair; no longer does it cover your face, attempting to obscure the scars; instead, it is slicked back, proudly displaying every inch.

You could pass for human; all the features are the same, there is just a difference in the colouration. The dominant belief is that your people, the Ramdar, developed from humans belonging to a damaged ship forced to land on the remote planet of Achlys. Trapped within the Unknown Regions undisturbed, they grew into their own people, reverting to tribalism over the millennia. Isolated and alone, until a visitor finally arrived, a single scout ship owned by the Hutts. With the opening of the once-named Unknown Regions, the forces employed by the massive wealth of the Hutts exploded outwards. Charting and claiming new planets and stars as the Republic lazily languished in plodding bureaucracy. The number of new worlds swelled under their control until they could proudly make a declaration that would travel the galaxy’s width. The galaxy was no longer united under the Republic; there was a new force, a new Hutt Empire. This new empire built upon the backs of the backward savages who used to be masters of their own worlds. Conquered, colonised, and enslaved, these new species toiled under the whip-hand of the interstellar slugs and their pet mercenaries.

Passivity has gnawed at you. The Hutts have enjoyed their new kingdom of suffering for centuries whilst the Republic and Jedi have ignored the plight of these people, of your people. They, too, hide from the death cult of The Singularity that is beginning to permeate the stars. Dark thoughts would and will swirl in your mind, sending you into foul, hateful moods at this acceptance of suffering, at the impotence and cowardice. But today is not one of those days where such thoughts would swarm your psyche. Today is a day you’ve dreamt of for years; anticipation and excitement burn inside you. You, Christopher, a twenty-two-year-old Jedi Knight, will bring an end to this suffering and decaying galaxy. Not because of some call to action or a response to a specific crime, but because you demand change, you need it, you can no longer stand idly by and try to block out the agony of trillions that plague your thoughts.

Ripping your gaze from the windowpane of the spire of the Tower of Reconciliation, you glance at the doors sliding open. You should not be here; you do not have permission to be in the council room. But the faces appearing from the doorway are both welcomed and familiar. Jedi Knights Luke and Scion, your allies, your confidants, your friends. You have convinced them of the morality and need of your goals to see the galaxy free of both the Hutts and The Singularity. This is your first secretive meeting in which you will plan the liberation of those enslaved physically by the Hutts and mentally by The Singularity. There are better, safer places to hold this meeting, but there is something poetic about having it here in one of the temple's five spires.

Your mind travels to your master, the one who helped you attain Knighthood after your master died in the skies of Ravaath…
>Grand Master Turok. (While you have always excelled with your Lightsabers, it was only under his tutelage that your skills with the Force became special rather than simply above average.)
>Master Lelou, who follows your friends through the opened doorway. (With a Master on your side, you will find it easier to convince your fellow Jedi to join your cause.)

Hi guys back after a long break like promised.

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Stellar%20Turmoil

>>5926095
>Grand Master Turok.

>>5926095
>Master Lelou, who follows your friends through the opened doorway. (With a Master on your side, you will find it easier to convince your fellow Jedi to join your cause.)
Welcome back!

>>5926095
>Grand Master Turok. (While you have always excelled with your Lightsabers, it was only under his tutelage that your skills with the Force became special rather than simply above average.)

>>5926095
>Grand master Turock

We can always recruit another master. But our skills are important.

Welcome back man. Time to build a shadow collective.

>Grand Master Turok. (While you have always excelled with your Lightsabers, it was only under his tutelage that your skills with the Force became special rather than simply above average.)

>>5926095
>Grand Master Turok. (While you have always excelled with your Lightsabers, it was only under his tutelage that your skills with the Force became special rather than simply above average.)
TUROK DINOSAUR SLAYER!

is anyone else concerned that we're being influenced by the ancient sith via the name etched into our face to start this conflict? the opening interlude has me concerned that he'll influence us more and more until he takes over our body fully sukuna style. we're the one being puppeteered here by the strings in the shadows

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You see the massive figure of the wizened Whiphid in your mind, sitting on the central seat in the council chambers reserved for him. Turok’s robes are plain brown and nondescript, standard among the Jedi; there is nothing special to signify his rank or the two centuries he has spent within the order. The typical loose-fitting silk flows off his mammoth form like a waterfall, hiding the powerful muscles concealed behind the fabric. While his face is bald like all Whiphids, the surrounding fur was once a chestnut-brown, but with age, grey has crept in and dulled the edges of his hair.

There was a time when you could not read the Grand Master’s alien face, his visage furious and terrifying to a new observer. But for those that know him, there are subtle signs from which you can read his kind demeanour: small facial tics, the narrowing of the eye, and the twitch of the nostril. When you look at him, you see nothing of the jungle predator wrought into his DNA; you see only a kindly master who has always supported you. A pang of shame runs through you; it echoes within you as you notice a sad, disappointed, judgmental look in his eyes. As soon as it appears, it is subsumed by anger and irritation; how can he sit here holding such power as the galaxy rots into a fetid garden around him? He doesn’t act proactively, only attempting to staunch the rising tide of the cult of The Singularity rather than dealing with the cause and ignoring the encroachment of the Hutts into Republic space.

Turning your view from your Master’s chair, you greet your two friends with a wild, excited smile. You have been waiting so long to put your dreams into practice. The conspiratorial nature adds to your suppressed thrill, planning this in one of the holiest places in the galaxy. You give your co-conspirators a nod, your smile now sly, and slide into your old Master’s seat. Scion and Luke join you sitting, placing themselves in empty cushioned chairs. Through the transparent transparasteel, you see the night beginning to lift as the first light of dawn peeks over the edge of the horizon. This is something you’ve timed; you wanted the sun to rise in your meeting. As a new day rises here, a new day will dawn across the galaxy, one filled with hope, optimism, and compassion.

Words are spoken as the night continues to retreat. You discuss much in this short span; there are competing ideas, but there is a commonality between you, and never the disagreement becomes heated. All understand the others’ commitment to the newly birthed conspiracy. Even at this premature stage, being caught, even just in this room, would result in severe consequences.

Scion continues to look at Luke as he speaks, “We can’t be loud about this. We can’t put up fliers around the temple and be open with our goals. We need to take time winning the other Jedi over; we need to slowly get them disenfranchised with the Council and demand action, as we wanted them to do. And only then can we make our goals clear to the masses; we then give them the option to join with us. A vent for their frustrations and a direction for their actions.”

“People want action now,” Luke replies with a firm voice, trying to suppress his volume. “We were there on Ravaath as ten million people, an entire city, fell into the core of that gas planet. It has been a talking point between the Republic and the Hutts for years. The Hutts blamed us for not being able to defend our borders from supposed pirates, despite everyone in the galaxy knowing it was the Hutt’s forces that carried out the attack. They killed ten million of our people in an instant. There are many people like us who are similarly enraged and desperately need a call to action to follow.”

This time, you cut in, “There may be some willing to join us at the moment, but I don’t think the frustration at the Council or the Republic has enrooted itself deep enough. I worry that while they would agree with our message, many, most, are not ready to ignore the Council. I think it would be better if we forced them to face the continued death and suffering and allow them to stew in it. Try to beat them over the head with the issue until it reaches a zenith. By being too open, our risk of getting caught and stopped is too great. When we get enough followers, the Council will disown us, but they won’t take action. They will be too fearful of internal Jedi disagreements becoming violent. We’ve seen enough over the decades to know the Council loves avoiding the larger, truer issues and would simply prefer to ignore them.”

Luke runs a hand through his thick hair and sighs, “Ok, maybe we can spot a few converts while we spread discontent. As you say, others will organically demand action in time, but we must decide where to begin this conversion. Here, on Coruscant, there is the greatest concentration of Jedi in the galaxy, but they are much more dogmatic than those further afield. The Council’s grip on them is much stronger, and we are at a great risk of getting exposed. That being said, here is where most of our prospective converts lie. Do we want to push our ideas here or at a lesser temple?”

Scion’s eyes glaze over as he peers out of the windowpane into the world outside, deep in thought. “I have found a temple that could be of interest. A small one, only fifty-odd Jedi. Barely any detail of them in the archives, but with some research, I found they are viewed as an almost heretical offshoot, which the Council likes to keep quiet about. Can’t let us know that there are those that disagree with the ever so wise Council. Very focused on the martial aspect of being a Jedi, as well as being fierce detractors of the Senate. Or we could attempt to sway a medium-sized temple of roughly two hundred Jedi, but they won’t be as opposed to the Council. All options have their own advantages.”

Luke’s eyes turn to you, waiting for your recommendation…
>Stay on Coruscant, it has the widest pool of recruits, but they will be the hardest to convert.
>Go to a medium-sized temple, it has a decent pool of recruits and won’t be as hard to convert.
>Go to a small, isolated temple, it has the smallest pool of recruits but will be the easiest to convert.

>>5927039
>Go to a small, isolated temple, it has the smallest pool of recruits but will be the easiest to convert.
We need a warrior mentality in our offshoot and to slowly gain momentum over time. Once we are too large to silence and sweep under the rug we can operate more freely

>>5927039
>Smallest temple

When you build a core of followers, You start small.

>>5927039
>Go to a small, isolated temple, it has the smallest pool of recruits but will be the easiest to convert.

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You take no time thinking it over and reply with a nod aimed towards Luke’s waiting gaze, “I like the sound of that smaller temple. They sound like people who understand the necessity of action. Furthermore, we need a core base of ideologues to help us sway more to our cause. They could be it. Scion, where is this temple?”

“It is in the Deep Core, the Bahon system, the planet’s name is Lieserl.” Scion recites without pause. “If we went to a more densely populated temple, we could and should split up, dispersing ourselves and blending into the crowd, but for Lieserl, it won’t be possible. Even if we arrive staggered over a month, it would still raise questions. The Jedi population increasing by three when it currently sits at roughly fifty is a large gain, six per cent. Questions will be raised. If we want to do this together, which I think would be best, we should come to the planet as a trio. It would be more honest and raise less suspicion. But of course, they will be suspicious of us no matter what, we would just be attempting to lessen it.”

“We agree then, Lieserl it is.” Luke nods his head in shared agreement. “What other information do you have on Lieserl and its temple?”

Scion replies with a shrug and a shake of his head, “Very little. Barely any traffic in the area, but that is expected of the Deep Core. The population of the planet is estimated to be one and a half million; last census we received was seventy-two years ago and claimed a population of eight hundred thousand. The planet is heavily jungled. That’s it, everything I could find on the planet, and I do not think we have the means to discover more without travelling there.”

His words are greeted with a respectful nod from both you and Luke. The sun’s touch has stretched far over the planet with night in full retreat. No longer is the hour early; time has flowed fast during your discussions. Humorously, the bulk of the disagreements came when discussing the future after the Hutt’s empire crumbles and the beliefs of The Singularity are dead. Should the systems join the Republic, or should they stay together but without Hutt rule? If so, should there be a government made up of elected officials or Jedi, as the galaxy had before the Ruusan Reformation? No decision has been made yet; it will be a topic you three will return to. With regret, you all rise from your stolen seats, exiting the council chambers without notice, wishing you had more time.

While you have been itching to leave Coruscant for Lieserl, you have commitments and jobs you need to fulfil. Training classes of Initiates, help deal with matters and civil disagreements. It has been a week and you’ve near completed them all, you shall soon be able to slip off without concern getting raised within the Order. Luke has an excuse already prepared for why he couldn’t be sent out to somewhere around the galaxy or ladened with tasks, his new young Padawan. Grand Master Turok has been trying to push you to take one, but you’ve managed to resist his verbal prodding.

Arriving at the location Grand Master Turok put in his message, the large figure of the Whiphid stands before the massive onyx door that steals light from the surrounding lanterns. The grand door leads to the expansive blackness that is the Room of Awakening. You see the joy on Turok’s face as you appear in front of him in your midnight black Jedi robes; the profound lack of colour contrasts with your ghostly white skin.

“Jedi Knight Christopher,” These words come slowly out of the Grand Master’s enormous mouth, dripping in pride at your ascension through the ranks. “I am delighted you are here. I know you have resisted taking a Padawan, but I really think it would help you and that you would enjoy it.”

There is some truth in that you’ve always enjoyed teaching the Initiates; their hope and joy is something you find infectious. Playing the part of an older brother to the younglings is something you’ve taken to well. You would have accepted a Padawan soon after Turok’s first suggestion, but with your plans and goals, you can’t help but worry it would be irresponsible and disruptive. Would you even have time to teach them while enacting your plans?

“Thank you, Master Turok, but I do not think I am ready for it yet. I am still young, and if I’m being honest, I’m very immature.” You give your old master a friendly shake of the head with a slight sigh in disagreement.

“I understand, but people rise to these things. I know you will too. And you spoke to me many times about your frustrations, which I understand, but taking a Padawan really changes your outlook on the galaxy. I think it would truly help you grow as a person. I truly think that taking on a little one would eat that desire for change that burns inside you.” He gives a slight tilt of his head and a shrug that sends ripples through his long robes. “Come join us in the Room of Awakening. We’ve got the Padawan ceremony starting soon. There are many great Initiates that would do well for you as a master.”

You…
>Join him for the Padawan ceremony, and look for a Padawan
>Respectfully decline his offer

>>5928023
>Join him for the Padawan ceremony, and look for a Padawan
Keep someone from getting a master like ours

>>5928023
>Join him for the Padawan ceremony, and look for a Padawan

>>5928023
>Join him.

If it stops another Padawan suffering as we did.
I dont knoe what to look for. But hey, the force will guide us. Ideally they are witty

>>5928023
>>Join him for the Padawan ceremony, and look for a Padawan

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His consistent and unrelenting suggestions and recommendations to take a Padawan has worn at you. Gnawing at your resolve like the waves steadily eroding rock. No matter how strong the rock or how long it takes, it will eventually be ground down into sand. Memories of Porro, your old master, unwelcomely resurface before you blink them away, not wanting to linger on them. You do not want any of the Initiates to suffer like you did under Porro. While having a Padawan may bring you troubles, it would be worth it if the kid could avoid the fate you suffered through.

“Ok, I give up. You’ve got me. I surrender.” You finally concede to the pressure of your former master.

“Excellent,” Grand Master Porro booms.

Lost in the joy of his victory, the Whiphid goes to pat your shoulder, but in his excitement, the action turns into a slap. A slap from a creature that approaches three meters and weighs half a tonne is not just a slap to a Near-Human. The strength of the blow and your surprise causes your right knee to buckle. Quickly, you recover yourself before you fall flat on your face. A rare look appears on his visage, one which you struggle to read until you manage to place it, the old Master is embarrassed at his emotions stealing his control.

“Sorry Christopher.” He uses your full name, a rare thing for him to do nowadays, attempting to show you respect and remorse for his loss of self-control.

There is a pause as he scrambles to find the correct words that are not appearing in his head. You brush yourself off and straighten your well-fitting robes, “It's nothing, it's nothing. Forget about it. Anyway, I’ve only agreed to consider picking up an apprentice. I’m not promising anything.”

Turok’s clawed hand reaches into his robe to produce a data slate; after fiddling with it for a minute, he passes it on to you. “I know, I know. Anyway, here are a few potential Padawans that no Knight or Master have yet claimed, you might be interested in them. Give them a lookover and keep them in mind. I’ve got to prepare the rest of the ceremony; you’ve got ten minutes to go through to the chamber. Close the doors behind you.”

Grand Master Toruk wishes you well and opens the massive stone doors that fold inward, and he disappears into the utter blackness, leaving you alone, gazing into the data slate. Of the list of unchosen Initiates, your eyes seem to rest on four of them each time you consider a candidate. There are, of course, others who would be excellent Padawans, but the four you gravitate back to are all slightly problemed children. Nothing majorly troubling about them; if there were, then they wouldn’t be considered for the advancement, but enough to make them nobody’s first pick.

The first of the four is a Human boy, twelve, named Tetros. Small for his age, but other than that he is somewhat unassuming. His hair is a dark, muddy blonde, and his eyes are a dull blue. He was born to a noble family on Delaya and received by the order before he could have formulated memories of that family he had lost. Tetros has been caught stealing a few times, to the point of concern. Despite that, he is a well-mannered, playful boy with a sharp intellect.

Another of the four is a female Togruta named Milla; similarly to Tetros, she is twelve. Her skin is the typical Togrutan orange, with two montrals and three matching lekku, all the same shade of pale white with blue stripes. Milla’s life before being inducted into the order was extremely uneventful; she came from a decidedly middle-class family from a very average world. She shows little respect for authority and is often truant. But she is very adept with the Force.

Nat is a Mirialan boy with dull green skin and a darker shade of green for his hair. So dark it took you a second to decide if it was black. He is a year older than the previous two. He is skilled at piloting airspeeders and starfighters; he is constantly searching for the chance to fly some sort of craft. The data slate says he enjoys playing practical jokes on the other children in his clan to the point where they find the tricks have long since passed from being funny to just being aggravating.

The final one on the list is a girl, a Zeltron, named Morrigan. She is thirteen years old, and her skin is light red, verging on pink, and her hair is a cobalt blue. She grew up with her mother, stuck in poverty. Her mother was, and possibly still is, a prostitute. This has led to many fights between Morrigan and other Initiates over the years, developing into a reportedly fierce temper. These constant fights have either helped Morrigan develop her Lightsaber skills or displayed them for all to see.

Looking at the top right-hand corner of the data slate which displays the time, you see it is time to enter the Room of Awakening. Sliding the device into your robes, you hurry past the door and enter a world of darkness. The only source of light are the tiny gems embedded into the ceiling, simulating the stars in the sky, and the light creeping through the opened doorway. Calling your strength in the Force, you gently begin to close the slabs of onyx rock behind you. Despite their hinges, their mass is incredible due to their height, stretching up three stories. Through the Force, you can feel a good number of other Jedi, and you can see where they stand motionless. There is an empty spot which beckons you.

You stand in place and ignite your full Lightsaber when the others switch theirs on, which perfectly paints your pale face in the electric blue of the humming blade. The grand doors reopen, just a sliver to let in the first Initiate of the night. Time passes, and the number of Jedi Knights and Masters decrease as they escort their newly chosen Padawans out of the darkness enveloping the room. You wait and wait, allowing the Force to tell you exactly when the correct Initiate for you enters the room.

You feel yourself drawn to…
>Tetros
>Milla
>Nat
>Morrigan
>Other(Write-in)
>None of them

>>5928975
>Morrigan
She seems the most similar to Chris at that age

>>5928975
I feel like it is either Milla, for her lack of respect for authority. Or Morigan, for her empathetic race and temper.

Hmm. I feel like we can have more of a rapport and back and forth from
>Morrigan

>>5928975
>>Tetros

FUCK YEAH, glad to see this back!

>>5926892
Spoilers lmao

Standing in the darkness, your face a sapphire blue from the illumination of your Lightsaber, you ponder the moment. Two dozen Jedi Knights and Masters, standing as still as one of the ancient statues that adorn the temple without a word. The only sound within the hall is the small hums of the powered blades, robbing the room of total silence. You think of those that would mock this solemn and sacred ceremony, reduce it to its components rather than the sum of its parts. Dispensing with the spiritualism of the situation as if it was a bygone product from an unenlightened time. You pity those who feel that way, those who can’t see the beauty in life and make everything small, those who can’t touch the Force. A sneaking thought you would never speak whispers in your ears; it tells you that you would be such a lesser being for not being able to interact and feel the Force.

While ruminating, one of the Padawans on Turok’s list walks through the door. At first, you couldn’t read any details of the figure that walked through the crack between the two slabs of rock used as doors. As the figure approaches closer, you notice the unusual red-pink colouration of her skin, a hue that is rare in the galaxy amongst Near-Humans. But as you study the young Zeltron girl, there is something more striking than her skin or hair; it’s Morrigan’s shining silver eyes. Within them, you see ironclad determination, a powerful force of will, utterly determined to succeed.

She stands across the hall facing another prospective Padawan and ignites her blade under Turok’s command. A blazing bar of deep purple springs to life in her hands as she tenses, waiting for Turok’s final command; with her shining eyes, she studies every inch of her opponent, looking for a tell of his first move. The final word is spoken by the Grand Master, and the two Initiates close on each other. It is over in an instant, Morrigan dances with expert agility, her purple Lightsaber jives in a whirl of plasma and overwhelms the boy’s defences, scoring a clean hit on his throat.

You can’t help but feel a kinship with Morrigan. The pair of you both suffered through difficult childhoods outside the Jedi Order, and when inducted, fights with other students were frequent. Like you, she threw herself into the martial teachings of the Jedi and excelled at it. There is no doubt in your mind that she struggles to make friends, if she has any at all. You know how she feels, you can help her understand herself, you can help her make the right choices and you can help her succeed where you have failed. You can be everything to her that Porro wasn’t to you.

“Kneel Initiate Morrigan,” Grand Master Turok instructs. He switches on his massive Greatsaber, and it hovers above her slight shoulder. “Today, I induct you into the Jedi order. From now forth, you will be of the rank of Padawan. This is simply the beginning of your greater journey in which you will next attain Knighthood.”

Your own Lightsaber shrinks into the darkness, and you step forward. Turok clearly notices your actions despite not being able to see you. The Whiphid’s powerful voice echoes around the featureless room, “Rise, Padawan Morrigan, stand and join your new master, Jedi Knight Christopher.”

Two silver eyes scan the darkness until they stop at your moving form. The ice-cold, rock-hard determination is gone and forgotten in them, replaced with a swirl of emotions. Hope, excitement, anxiety, joy, and pride all battle for supremacy, but none can entirely dominate the others. Morrigan settles on beaming at you with an awkward smile. This rouses a grin on your face to match hers, but yours differs as it is a smile of amusement. The young girl stands and follows you as you lead her into the void.

Exiting the hallway through the secondary passage, you look back at the figure following you. Her visage has returned to a steely focus; you suspect her of acting in such a manner, thinking this is exactly what you, her new master, desires. You allow her to keep up her act as she trails behind you. Passing through the cavernous hallways of the temple, you ponder the best introduction. Nothing quite fits, and the hour is late, so you figure why not get to know each other over dinner.

As you continue to walk through the halls to one of the many kitchens dotted around the massive temple, you speak to your new Padawan, “Congratulations on becoming a Padawan. It is a long journey, and you have longer left, as do I, but it is a rare achievement. You are one of the ten thousand Jedi in the galaxy now of hundreds of trillions.”

“Thank you Master,” She replies evenly, not allowing a hint of emotion to seep into her voice.

“Should I call you Morrigan, or do you have a nickname you want me to call you?” You ask as you slow down, allowing her to walk next to you, not behind. “Oh, and you can call me Chris.”

“Morrigan is fine; it is what I go by, Master Chris.” Your Padawan’s reply is short, to the point, and way too controlled. You will have to get her to open up, she’s trying too hard to be what she thinks is the ideal Padawan.

Finally, you reach an upscale diner within the temple and slide into a partially concealed booth. Your young apprentice gazes at you, sitting at the table, unsure if she is meant to join you. Suppressing a chuckle but not a smile, you ask her to sit. It feels so strange that you now have a Padawan. It happened so fast you are still trying to process it. A waitress comes over and collects your orders as you begin talking to your shy Padawan. You can’t help but find amusement in the regimented discipline Morrigan tries to assume.

While you are between bites of your meal, the Zeltron teen speaks for the first time without being prompted, “Thank you, Master. I mean, thank you for choosing me. I know I have had my share of issues as an Initiate. You could have easily chosen someone other than me. I promise you that I will live up to and exceed your expectations, and prove that your faith in me was warranted.”

Putting down your cutlery, you focus on Morrigan, “I am honoured to have you as my Padawan. And I don’t want you to try to meet any expectations you think I have for you; I want you to feel happy and comfortable. All you need to do is whatever feels right to you, not others. Don’t chase others’ expectations or your expectations of their expectations. To be a good Jedi, that’s all you need.”

Morrigan gazes in your face with wide silver pupils in an attempt to spot hidden meaning not included in your words. In return, you give a gentle smile and spear what remains of a sausage with your fork. “Anyway, I got in my fair share of trouble as an Initiate… and an apprentice.”

She looks at you cautiously, not sure if she trusts your words. “Like what?”

“Oh, where to start? Well, there was one time when I stole a… Wait I don’t think I can tell you that one, yet. This one, I can tell you, so I was chasing my friend, Luke; you two will meet soon enough, around the temple. You see, he stole my commlink. It's a long story. And he turned this blind corner, and I, of course, followed him. Turns out a group of people were just around the bend. So, I was running at full speed, and there was no way I was going to stop in time. Nothing I could do at that point, and I ended up slamming into a person in the group. Master Hou’Garth was in that group, you see, and he started screaming bloody murder at me. So, I run, I just sprint down the corridor, praying he didn’t notice it was me, which he, of course, did. Only later, when he found me, did I realise who I had sent flying. Man, it was bad. It was an Ithorian, the Senator for the Ottega sector. And you know what, Hou’Garth still holds a grudge against me for it.”

Your young apprentice smiles as you recount the story, and you beam back, happy you’ve found a chink in her stoic armour. The pair of you spend the rest of the meal sharing your old stories, much to Morrigan’s amusement. Morrigan begins to open up to you about some of the misdeeds she has done, enjoying the commonality between you. You can feel the mirth radiate from her and infect you. Zeltrons are amazing beings with all their gifts; you can’t help but think the Order would do well finding more Jedi from that species.

You have some free time outside of teaching Morrigan and planning for your departure to Lieserl. Who do you want to spend some time with?
(Feel free to suggest something to do)
>Luke
>Scion
>Claire
>Alyla
>Morrigan
>Write-in

Couldn't find an imagine of a Zelton girl that didn't look like a stripper sadly.

>>5929844
>Alyla
Ask her for advice as a new master

>>5929844
>Alyla, ask advice about being a master. And practice our swordplay, to see if we have kept up.
>Morrigan, get a foundational grasp on her lightsaber styles and preferences. We know 3 forms, we can help her out.

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>>5929847
I know the image is the wrong lightsaber colour but this one should be fine.

>>5929847
lmao. looks like someone needs to commission a new picture then.

>>5929844
>Alyla, ask advice about being a master. And practice our swordplay, to see if we have kept up.
>Morrigan, get a foundational grasp on her lightsaber styles and preferences. We know 3 forms, we can help her out.

Also gents I want your thoughts on things.

What's the driving Philosophy we are using as a rhetoric against the Jedi Council.
Are we focusing on the role of Jedi as defenders of the weak? That peace keepers are not always on the side of rightiousness? That it is better for a good war and an evil peace?

We also kinda need to figure out the angle and pitch we're going with. Our first real intention at the new temple should be to establish ourselves as a member of good standing and reputation to give weight to our words while we suss out likely marks.

and adding to this vote >>5929946
>Introduce Morrigan to Luke, Claire and Scion too. It's always good to ensure she knows who she can count on.

>>5930195
Well the way I see it is that there can be multiple angles of attack. Like in politics a left wing party can be attacked by both those from the left and right. The story Chris sells to these Jedi should differ depending on the audience. Even if there are competing beliefs within those who follow Chris they can be segregated and fooled.

Maybe the core message could milquetoast and palatable so others can accept it and insert their beliefs on top of it?

>>5930246
Milquetoast message is "We must stop the suffering of the Singularity/Hutt exploitation". Nobody else but those two groups is gonna oppose it. We hammer on that this is our central driving thrust, that WE must STOP SUFFERING.

What we bolt onto that, could be anything. The future of a freed unknown regions is. . . nebulious. since I'm not convinced that a republic joining would be all that good.

maybe avoid the focus on the future, focus on the present injustices and rectifying them

>>5929962
Cheers
>>5929964
If I was to do that I'd first get one done of Chris.

And just something I want to do later, when we reach this new temple and we have bonded with Morrigan a bit more.

I want to practice dueling with eachother against the droids.
Ill be honest, Most of my thoughts of how to bond with her are through training and allowing her to understand that we are there for when she needs help. And learning to fight together seems like the easiest and most direct method of trust building excercise that we can engage with.

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It is a strange adjustment from being free as an untethered kite to having a Padawan. Much of your time is now demanded by another being, and your other tasks become secondary and fall down the list of priorities. Also, there is the constant companionship; while you do spend a lot of time with your friends, the constant shadow that follows you everywhere is new. But Morrigan does make you laugh, still sticking to her rigid discipline and control. You can’t help but wonder if she’s read some Jedi writing on stoicism and believes it is the end-all and be-all. You do partially understand the misguided reasoning behind it. Many Jedi talk about being an instrument of the Force and letting go of attachment, but your partial understanding isn’t agreement. It shouldn’t take long to convince Morrigan off that track.

You find yourself in one of the training rooms of the Jedi temple, sparring with a friend in one of the moments you have free; it is not unusual to find you spending your recreation time here honing your craft. While far from actual combat, which you have experience of, proven by the two Lightsabers hanging in your apartment as decorative battle trophies, it still makes you feel alive in a way nothing else comes close to. And there is more than that: you are proud of your abilities, and you love the recognition and respect the other Jedi give you for your hard-trained skills. Your heart hammers, barely held within your heaving chest, and sweat coats your body, causing it to shine from the synthetic sunlight. You have been pushed hard by your training partner, one of the few Jedi that is able to keep up with your abilities; she, like you, is similarly exhausted.

Glaring at your opponent, you take deep, desperate gulps of air in this brief pause. Alyla shares your fatigue; matching you blow for blow has stolen her strength as it has yours. The blue-skinned Chiss forces out a predator’s smile, which quickly reverts back to the hungry breaths. Circling each other, you make a final attack, the timer counting down on the ceiling reads 00:46. Both you and Alyla launch yourselves at each other, and your two twin Lightsabers clash with hers in a wild flurry. Using your skill in Force Speed, your every attack is ramped up beyond visible perception; Alyla likewise throws a duplicate lightning-fast strike for everyone you send her way.

The only thing that allows the pair of you to block each other’s blows is the Force guiding your hands, showing them where they need to be. Letting go of your Shoto blade, you wield your full Lightsaber in two hands, giving the strikes thunderous power. But your Shoto does not limply fall to the floor; it dances and weaves in the air under your control. Your floating blade strikes at Alyla, circling around her, trying to find its way to her back. In response, she flicks out a hand and sends your Shoto rocketing away into the woodland that surrounds you.

A beep chimes from the surrounding room, and the timer on the ceiling flashes a red string reading 00:00. The twenty-five-minute session is complete. Your missing Lightsaber rockets back out of the darkness from the dense foliage. It returns to your outstretched hand, and you clip both your blades to your belt and flop down into the soft ground with a light thud. Your breath still comes hard; most Jedi are unable to use Force Speed in a battle. It steals most Jedi’s control and dexterity, and the prolonged usage of the skill robs so much of your strength at an incredible pace. Muscles burn as you lay limp on the floor, your chest rising and heaving. Then you feel a weight on your torso as you gaze up into the simulated canopy, which you ignore; the only thing your body can do is lay there panting in utter exhaustion.

It takes time for you and Alyla to regain control of your bodies and for your breathing to return to normal, but your body still complains of sheer exhaustion. You look down at your chest, seeing Alyla’s head resting there. Alyla’s long blue-black hair is messily draped over your torso and her own head, you raise a hand damp with sweat, and brush strands away from her face. While doing so, you make sure to wipe her face with your sweaty palm, not that her face isn’t already glistening in her own sweat. You hear a gasp that starts off as disbelief but then grows into mock outrage.

“You have just made such a massive mistake,” Alyla announces with the excitement of competition in her voice.

Alyla quickly scrambles on top of you as you make no effort to move. A playful smile on her lips as she sits on your stomach and sends her own sweaty hands towards your face. You grab at her outstretched arms, blocking her hands from reaching your head. Exhausted, her sweaty arms slip through your grip; you only avoid them impacting your head as you throw your hip. Spinning her under you, you use your weight to try to pin her as your hands go searching in an attempt to make her pay for the assault.

From below, she hooks her legs around your waist and rolls you, reversing position with her back on top. Your strength spent, she pins your arms above your head and smirks down at you, happy in victory. Looking up at Alyla, you also enjoy her victory, relenting to the blue angel sitting on top of you. It is easy to see how you were so infatuated with her when you were younger; despite all your travels, you have never met anyone so beautiful as her. Drinking in the sight of Alyla in her sports bra perched on top of you, her azure skin shining with her sweat and the light, you give a slight struggle, but her Force imbued strength keeps you pinned under her power.

She collects both your wrists in one hand, using her free one to slaver her sweat all over your face, paying you back many times over for your transgression. You accept it and focus on the sensation of her body on top of yours. “I told you. You should think twice before challenging me. I always win, and next time, I will think up a harsher punishment.”

“If you always win, explain why you didn’t win our sparring match?” You reply impertinently.

“I allowed you to draw with me. I couldn’t have you returning to your new Padawan looking all defeated.” Alyla confidently boasts, enjoying the game you are playing.

“Yeah, about that, I was wondering, Master Alyla,” You speak her new title with plainly false deference. “I was wondering if you have any advice for me about Morrigan?”

Alyla takes on a serious demeanour and releases her grip on your wrists, sitting back but still watching you. “Not to be rude, Chris, but I personally think you’ve made a mistake taking her as an apprentice. She’s a bit… She was a challenging Initiate with a chip on her shoulder due to her mother’s situation; she really struggled to make friends. It was a very lonely time for her. Now she’s got this lovely, kind, thoughtful Jedi Knight protector as a master. He is a young, handsome prodigy with similar interests and experiences as her. And then Morrigan is a Zeltron, a highly emotional species, much more than you or me, that can produce pheromones which effectively act as an airborne date-rape drug. Now, you will spend every day with her for roughly the next ten years as she develops into adulthood. Shit, I mean, imagine spending a couple of days trapped in a ship with her as she hits puberty, and her body is going wild, accidentally producing her pheromones into the stale air. I see so many warning signs all over this honestly. With a case like her I really think she should have a female master.”

“Oh,” It is the only thing that comes to your mouth; nothing else follows as you digest Alyla’s words, seeing the logic there that you missed.

“I guess you could get rid of her. But what is done is done, you need to be wary of her becoming overly attached to you. Remember it and be cautious. General teaching tips? I guess you should get to know her, understand who she is as a person, and where she will need help. Be respectful and understanding. She will fail a lot, as we all do, and make bad calls. But you aren’t there to punish but to teach. Oh, and you are her master first, friend second if at all, don’t be overly gentle with her.”

Alyla finally gets up from you and offers a hand, helping you up. “By the way your…
(Which Lightsaber style have you mastered)
>Soresu is superb.”
>Makashi is superb.”
>Juyo is superb.”

>>5930670
>>Juyo is superb.”

>>5930670
>Juyo is superb.”

>>5930670
>Makashi is superb

>>5930878
Im of the opiniom that mastering Juyo is generally good but we should pick our focus. And our focus should be on destroying the dark star, hence the anti lightsaber style. Our enduranfe already gives sorosu a buff.

Also, Yay, first crush!
And also oh dear. . Maybe we should spend some time learning the detoxify application of the force

>Makashi
I'm in agreement that our core message need simply cut to the heart of the matter: end the depredations of the Hutts and the Singularity.

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… Juyo is superb.”

Glowing from the compliment, you wear a great smile. Juyo is a rare Lightsaber form to know; only three dozen Jedi can say they are adept with it. And you are more than just adept; you have mastered the form. There is no method of recognition in the Order telling if a Jedi has mastered a form, only the self-belief and words of peers. You have both these, you are confident enough in your skills to say you have mastered the form, over the last two years you’ve sparred with many Jedi Masters. Seeking out as many of them as possible to measure your skill against, to hone your abilities. By throwing your all into these duels, you find yourself winning the majority of these bouts against those who have been training longer than you’ve been alive, and you are still getting better. You’ve overheard whispers about yourself, rumourmongers asking if you are a generational talent, and you strive to prove those rumours true. Over the last couple of years, you’ve noticed people have changed how they react to you; eyes now follow you, filled with curiosity and respect, measuring and wondering. People are more willing to approach you, ask questions about Lightsaber combat, your fights on Ravaath, and attempt to befriend you.

Getting to your legs, you feel the burn in your thighs; these twenty-five-minute sessions are incredibly intense. With a groan, you ask, “I’m cooking for the gang the day after tomorrow before I head off, going to introduce Morrigan to them. Are you in?”

“You think I wouldn’t be there for my little Chris’ going away party?” She gives you a playful poke to the ribs as you exit the training room. “So, what I’ve not understood is where you are going and why?”

“Long story, you know the ghost that messed up my face?” You refuse to utter Lord Merek’s name as you recall your crafted lie. “I found some information about him. He might have had a sanctuary in the Deep Core, and I’m going to explore that and see if I can find something to help us excise him from his tomb.”

“Hmm, ok, be safe.” She turns to leave you, your quarters are in different directions. Saying your goodbyes, you walk off. She does sneak behind you, only to wrap her arms around you in an unexpected hug before truly going separate ways.

It is a new day, and once again, you are in one of the many sparring rooms. Each one of the rooms that dot the massive hallway has its own biome that is borrowed from a planet across the expansive galaxy. This time, you are not with Alyla, but your Padawan Morrigan. While you’ve been together for a number of days, you’ve not been able to examine her favoured Lightsaber style. Also, you know she enjoys learning the skills of the Lightsaber, and it would be nice if you could turn this into a bonding session.

Morrigan is glaring at you with such focus and determination. You can’t help but internally chuckle at her; it is cute how serious she is taking this. She stands with a central guard straight out of the Soresu handbook. Every Padawan is taught that style, so it isn’t surprising that she is using it against an overwhelmingly skilled opponent. While you know all styles to a certain degree and can train Morrigan to a point in all of them, only in Soresu, Makashi, or Juyo could you teach her the heights of the forms.

You only have your main blade ignited as you approach her across this empty field filled with shin-high blue grass. The reason you are only using a single Lightsaber is that you are trying to judge her skills rather than defeat her. You think you will get the best out of her if you only use a single blade rather than overwhelm her with two. Morrigan stands stock still, thinking, calculating a way to best this foe she has in front of her. Frozen in place Morrigan doesn’t move until you break the spell with a simple overhead vertical swipe. She effortlessly parries the strike and sidesteps, breaking your line of attack. Still, in the same motion, she slices at your exposed torso with the vibrant purple plasma blade, trying to hit you with a dangerous counterstrike. Of course, you block it. She is young and slow, but it was a good attempt. She does better when not thinking and allowing the Force to guide her hand.

“Nice, nice.” You speak as you send more blows in her direction, not the most technical or fastest strikes, but enough to cause Morrigan to retreat. A part of you wants to trip her and then tease her, much like Alyla used to do with you. But you are unsure how she would react to that.

Finally, after some time, you stop, unveiled irritation etched into Morrigan’s face. “I’m awful.”

“No, you aren’t.” Not the words she was looking for, she scowls at you. At least she isn’t wearing that robotic, withdrawn mask of false discipline. “You are overthinking things, trying to spot a flaw in my technique; it is causing you to clam up. Let go of you, don’t think; let the Force guide your hands.”

There is a pause before Morrigan replies, “Yeah, I locked up. I am usually much better than this, I promise.”

“I know, look don’t worry about the small stuff. We all have bad days and bad fights, but you have honestly done well. I can see you’ve got those killer instincts when you allow yourself to flow.” She beams at your praise. “I noticed you primarily used Soresu and sprinkled in a little Djem So. Are they your preferred forms?”

“I mean, I used Soresu because there is no other way I’m holding you off,” Passion echoes from her voice as she begins to speak faster. “And I used Djem So because I thought getting a counter strike on you would be the easiest way to win. But I love all the forms; they are all different expressions of emotion and feelings. I am going to learn them all.”

Enjoying her enthusiasm, you give her a wry smile. “Which forms would you like me to help you train with? I can teach you everything you want to know about Soresu, Makashi, and Juyo. The others, I know some stuff, but there are decent gaps in my knowledge. That being said I would be happy to learn any form together.”

Morrigan’s excitement grows at the last part of your words, “What about Djem So then? We can help each other as we go. It’ll be fun learning at the same time.”

“Sounds like a deal.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon in the room, watching instructional videos on your commlink together and practising movements. Morrigan plainly enjoys the cooperation of joint learning over you simply teaching her, and you are happy to indulge in that. Her smile remains for the rest of the session; only when the pair of you leave the training room does she notice and return that look of steely determination she defaults to. You also notice she doesn’t like losing; she has enjoyed success against her peers for so long that she takes it poorly. You hope you can change that; failure is a vital part of growth.

It is your final day on Coruscant, and you have met up with your friends and introduced them to Morrigan. Standing by a grill you are cooking at, enjoying the sight from the balcony you’ve reserved. Your close friends crowded around you. You are able to use this opportunity to recruit both Alyla and Claire, or just one of them, and have them come with you to Lieserl.
(For single 1d100 rolls, you get a single re-roll per thread)
>Try to recruit Claire (single 1d100: 1 to 30 success, 31 to 70 light success, 71+ failure)
>Try to recruit Alyla (single 1d100: 1 to 50 success, 51 to 60 light success, 61 to 90 failure, 91+ crit failure)
>Recruit no one

So I'm doing single 1d100 rolls for important rolls outside of personal combat, which will be three lots of 1d20s. So for example, doing a speech to rouse people to your cause will be a single roll of 1d100.

>>5931550
>Try to recruit Claire (single 1d100: 1 to 30 success, 31 to 70 light success, 71+ failure)
Roll now or after the vote?

>>5931583
Probably best to wait for like 12 hours then people can roll, it allows people to vote but won't hold up the quest. Unless there's a smarter way to do it?

>>5931595
I always recommend having rolls only after the vote is locked in to avoid having them influence what option people choose based on the rolls they've already seen

>>5931597
Sounds good

>>5931550
>Try to recruit Alyla (single 1d100: 1 to 50 success, 51 to 60 light success, 61 to 90 failure, 91+ crit failure)

>>5931550
>Recruit no one
>>5931597
I agree, it draw too much influence, and can railroad to that option.

Claire was with us when we fought off the singularity right, our youngling clanmate?
>Recruit Claire
Alyla will just distract us at the moment when we're just beginning to train Morrigan.

>>5931550
>Alyla

Having a master on our side.l would boost things.

>>5931729
Yeah, she was there last thread.

>>5931729
Aye, the one Luke likes and who likes us and honestly if one thing comes out of this hetrodoxy its that I hope he can confess his feelings damnit.

Im fine to maintain our friendships to both. Them red eyes got my shipping heart going.

Ok we are split on Claire and Alyla, you want to attempt both or you want me to roll to tiebreak?

>>5931984
I'm fine with both

>>5931984
I'm fine with both

>>5931997
>>5932012
Cool, can I get two single 1d100s. First one is for Claire, second one for Alyla.

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>5932027
I'm nervous now.

>>5932033
Whew. Heart's going.

Now the big one.

>>5932033
>21
Nice one.
>I'm nervous now.
Yeah, part of the idea was to have these rolls matter and be disruptive. Can't have Chris always succeeding with 3d20s.

>>5932036
I'm glad that the under 30 one came first.

Now we have a 50/50 shot at conversion.

and a 1 in 10 of it blowing up.

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>5932027

>>5932047
Damn, that's a good roll. You got both girls on board.

>>5932049
We are TAKING THE CASTLE BOYS!

Sorry, no update today, had to stop 400 words in due to feeling like shit. Maybe I can finish it in the morning and do a double update tomorrow, no promises of course.

Rest up, QM. Garlic, Vitamins C & D, water, & sleep should cure what ails you, unless it's mental or spiritual, in which case do an LBRP & workout.

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The meat sizzles on the grill as you flip a slice of auley meat, a spurt of flame rushes between the bars separating the meat from the coals. Smoke wafts up from the grill, slavering you with its embrace and attaching its smoky smells to your clothes. Luckily, you are not wearing your Jedi robes; no one here is. Everyone is wearing casual clothes; this is far from a Jedi event, and this is just a few friends hanging out before the group splits up. You did have trouble with one person struggling to accept that they shouldn’t wear their robes, your apprentice. Morrigan was insistent that she should wear her Jedi robes. She likely thought it would make the best impression, or maybe she felt insecure wearing regular clothes. Either way, you eventually managed to convince her.

Heat from the sun feels good on your skin and warms your bones. You feel slovenly as it steals your energy. Relaxing back into your fold-up chair, you reach for your drink. The glass is half filled with a deep black liquid that is both sweet and strong. It is effortless to consume them rapidly as they go down your throat so smoothly. Luke is sitting next to you, his hulking frame barely contained by his seat. While you are far from a small guy, Luke is massive, not Turok’s imposing size, but when standing, Luke is just shy of seven feet. This leads you to commonly compare him to a shaved Wookie. Empty cans litter where his limp hands dangle.

Scion is talking to Luke’s apprentice, Cau, a very average human boy. You think he is fourteen years old, something like that. He seems like a good enough kid, but you’ve not spent all that much time talking to him other than the occasional greeting and small talk. Despite his conversation with Scion, you do notice his eyes occasionally drifting towards the girls, only to shoot back to Scion, who pretends not to see. Grinning into your glass, you sympathise with the kid, remembering what it was like to be at that age, and Alyla, along with Claire, doesn’t make it any easier for him.

Wind gently brushes against your skin, cooling your pale flesh from the strength of the sun. Morrigan has been hovering around you the entire time, arms crossed in front of her chest in an awkward stance, as if trying to create a barrier between her and the strangers. Claire and Alyla approach your Padawan, who is unsure what to do, and engage her with conversations you cannot hear. After a while, Claire leaves the group of girls and pulls up a chair beside you. Shooting her a lazy smile, you greet her.

“A Padawan?” She asks with a raised eyebrow, looking at you with those bright red eyes contrasting off her alabaster skin. “I remember a few weeks ago someone complaining to me about Turok constantly trying to force a Padawan on him.”

“Huh, who was that? Couldn’t have been me, I always agree with Grand Master Toruk.” You smile back, taking another sip of your drink.

“Oh, you wouldn’t know this guy, a bit of a Lightsaber nerd if you ask me; I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen him outside a training room.”

“Really? I don’t know. This guy sounds pretty cool, very dedicated. I mean, it is better than being a lazy drunk.” You nod towards Luke’s sleeping form.

“Fuck you,” Luke slurs without opening an eye.

A gentle giggle escapes her lips, and Claire lets out a deep sigh. “I hate that we are breaking up the gang. Who knows when we will all be together again? Next time you are back home, I could be sent across the galaxy. It could be years.”

Claire is a sensitive soul, and you know that her words are a muted version of her true feelings. She will deeply miss you, being left alone on Coruscant with just Alyla. “Don’t think like that; we are still going to be friends and keep in contact.”

“It is not the same though.”

“Yeah,” You relent, “But there’s no changing it; what will be, will be.”

“You could request another Jedi Knight to join you; you might need the extra backup. You said a member of Dark Star was there when Merek attacked you. They have a clear interest in him. There could be more of them wherever you are going.”

“Look, I’m sorry, Claire.” Wincing at her words, knowing you cannot say yes to her request. You reach out and give her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’ve already got Luke and Scion; three Jedi Knights should be overkill.”

Claire scowls, plainly unhappy, a rare expression for her. She tries to conjure up a good rebuttal but struggles to grasp one. Luke breaks the tense silence, “Maybe Claire should come with us? She has no pressing duties here. Turok’s a good guy; I’m sure he’d agree to it.”

As soon as those words leave Luke’s mouth you shoot Luke a fierce look full of anger. All he is doing is raising Claire’s hope for something that cannot happen. There was a reason why you didn’t add her to your conspiratorial trio: she is too soft. Claire doesn’t have that driving fire in her that demands action. You don’t fault her for it; we are all different people, but you worry that she is too comfortable with her uncomplicated life in the temple. Of course, you want her with you, on your side; she is kind and empathetic and a friend you genuinely care about, which is not mentioning her incredible skill with the Force.

“Then it is sorted; I’m coming with you,” Claire states, glaring at you with a defiant glower, daring you to oppose her.

You break; truthfully, you want her to come with you and be one of your closest allies in your cause. Hesitantly, you speak, worried about the coming reply, “Claire, I… I want you to come with us, but we haven’t been entirely truthful. We are tired of the Council, of the Senate. They’ve done nothing for hundreds of years as the Hutts have enslaved and debased our people with no end in sight. Nor did they do anything when the Hutts dropped that city into the core of Ravaath leaving millions of dead, all of us who were there felt those souls wail as they died. And they aren’t doing anything about The Singularity’s beliefs spreading across the Republic. We are going to a planet named Lieserl to find other Jedi who might agree with us, that also demand change. Do you still want to join us?”

The silence is deafening as you wait for a response; deep in thought, Claire finally comes to a decision with her face growing uncharacteristically stern, “Yes. Yes, let's do this. I want our people free, and I want the Hutts to pay for their atrocities.”

Surprised by the strength of her reply you stay silent as she continues in a now gentle tone, “You should have trusted me sooner. I’m with you guys through thick and thin.”

As you continue to talk in hushed tones, Alyla picks up the conspiratorial nature of your ongoing conversation with Claire. A puzzled face is directed towards you, non-verbally asking you what is being covertly discussed. And then you impulsively decide on something, something that is likely very stupid. You excuse yourself from Claire’s company and walk over to Alyla and Morrigan. Alyla sweetly asks Morrigan if she can watch the food while she talks to you. Morrigan looks between the pair of you wide-eyed and confused about being dismissed.

“She seems like a nice girl,” Alyla speaks when Morrigan walks out of earshot. “So, what are you conspiring with Claire? Are you thinking about dumping me for a younger girl? I mean, Claire does have two very sizable assets, but deep down, you know you will always choose me.”

Shaking your head, you try and fail to suppress a grin. “Claire is joining us on Lieserl, and I want you with us as well.”

“Lieserl?” She parrots as her brows furrow.

You explain to her your frustrations with the Council and the Senate. Telling her what you hope to do, finding more that share similar beliefs as you. It is not a short conversation, and you have to repeat yourself a few times to allow the words to sink in. There is a real debate raging internally behind her eyes. You don’t force her with an ultimatum between the Council and you; if you did, she would recoil and automatically refuse. But in the end, she nods, agreeing there is an issue with the galaxy and the Council isn’t fulfilling its role to prevent it. Alyla is with you.

Day and night have passed. You lift off from the Jedi temple’s docks in your own ship. Your comrades follow you in tow, all in their vessels, making a small flotilla. As you exit the planet's orbit, you call your comrades into a group call and discuss the best way to approach the Jedi on Lieserl. In the end, you decide to initially approach as…
>Jedi tired of the Council, looking for something different
(feel free to include a reason you are in disagreement with the Council)
>Jedi exploring remote temples of the galaxy
>Write-in

>>5932875
>Jedi tired of the Council, looking for something different
Tired of their pacifism pushing them to the point of inaction unless they're acting to preserve to current status quo. All we really know about these guys is that they're more martial-focused so this should strike a chord with them

>>5932885
>Support.

Acting as someone tired of being forced to do nothing might endear us to them

>>5932875
+1 to consensus
So we're a party of 5 knights and 2 padawans?

>>5933222
Alyla is a master now, so 1 master, 4 knights and 2 padawans. Strong party considering the planet has around 50 Jedi.

>>5933241
Indeed. And a master lends a lot of legitmacy to our cause.

Also
>“So, what are you conspiring with Claire? Are you thinking about dumping me for a younger girl? I mean, Claire does have two very sizable assets, but deep down, you know you will always choose me.”

Why is Alyla so perfect? Quite self confident too. And I don't think wrong, at all.

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From the little information Scion has gleaned, you collectively agree that your best approach is to openly disavow the Council. Attacking the Council for its passivity in the face of an enemy, burying their collective heads in the sand. Never taking the steps needed to safeguard the people, only mitigating the current effects rather than striking at the cause. Limiting the decline rather than preventing it. You imagine that the Jedi calling Lieserl their home will find commonality with your reason. All you know about these Jedi is that there is no love between them and the Council and that they are a very martially oriented sect.

A call from Scion connects you on a secure connection between the pair of you. You allow him to speak, unsure what he desires to discuss, “Hey Chris, you free to talk, just us two?”

His words clearly asking if Morrigan can overhear your coming conversation. “Yeah, just me and you, mate.”

“Ok. Look, I’m really not sure about you taking on Morrigan. I’m sure she is a great girl, but what if she doesn’t see things the way we do? Luke has told me that he has managed to convince Cau, but he is a bit slow, Cau, I mean, not Luke. Morrigan seems like she could be quite wilful. I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong. Also, even if we do convince her, we now have two Padawans that could weigh us down, distracting us from our goals to our responsibilities to the kids. You get what I’m saying?”

“I will work on Morrigan.” You say in a terse voice; the truth in his words raises your irritation and defensiveness. “And she won’t slow us down; we now travel with seven Jedi, and our cause is all the stronger for it.”

“Sure, man, I trust you. Just felt like I needed to raise my concern. By the way, well done on snagging Claire and Alyla, Alyla will open many locked doors for us. Scion out.” Scion finished, and the line goes dead.

Leaving the cockpit, you allow the autopilot to pilot your ship in system, towards the hyperspace lane. If no unforeseen circumstances occur, the ship will be able to fly itself all the way to Lieserl, jumping in and out of hyperspace, only needing your manual commands to pilot the craft into a dock on the planet. Your ship is not the same class as Porro’s old ship, the Anhinga, which is provided to every Jedi. You have managed to purchase your own vessel; this was done with the money donated to the Order from the would-be victims that you saved on Ravaath. For each donation gifted to the Order due to the action of a Jedi, ten per cent goes to the Jedi as a sort of finders’ fee. The ship is a much sleeker, more angular vessel with limited stealth functions; maybe most importantly, the ship is considerably larger and more comfortably furnished.

Walking around, you find Morrigan wearing a blast visor, standing across the second cargo hold from a training droid. With a wave of your hand, the droid deactivates and slowly floats to the ground, landing gracefully. Greeting Morrigan, she lifts her helmet, removing it to allow her eyes to see. She gives you a deferential nod in respect as she deactivates her purple Lightsaber. Her silver irises are quite remarkable with the way light reflects off of them.

“Hey, I was wondering if you want to sit down and talk and get to know each other better. But if you want to be training right now, I can help you.” Then you worry that maybe she wants to train alone and have some peace with herself. “Or you can continue by yourself. Whatever you want to do.”

“Sure, lets talk,” She replies with a shrug.

You and Morrigan arrive in the lounge of your ship. The walls are covered in a layer of dark varnished wood, and the silky carpet is a light cream, intending to give the room a calm atmosphere. In your not-so-humble opinion, you think you were quite successful. Sitting on the oversized couch, you watch Morrigan struggle to decide whether to join you on the sofa or one of the other seats. Giving her a kindly smile, you wait until she decides, gently lowering herself onto the opposite end of the couch as you.

“So Morrigan,” You start off, cringing at the awkward beginning of your words. “What do you enjoy doing when you aren’t being a Jedi?”

She looks at you blankly, “Um, I guess I like watching movies and stuff.”

You light up at that, something the pair of you have in common, nodding to the screen opposite the couch you are sitting on, “Ah, cool, what are you into? Want to put something on?”

“I enjoy all sorts of movies really. Each is its own tale, trying to make you laugh, cry, or feel empowered and everything else.” Morrigan replies, looking at the dead screen embedded into the wall. “What do you have in your library?”

Brushing your hand through the air, the large screen jumps to life. You did think about installing a projector instead of a screen, but you prefer the crisper image quality. Different directories named after the genre of films they contain are displayed on the device. “Put anything you want on, I’m easy.”

Morrigan goes into the thriller directory, scrolling through the inexhaustive list of titles until settling onto one. You’ve seen it before, and she likely has as well; it’s a well-known and praised film. You discuss the movie as it plays, talking about its lead actor and the cinematography. She then pines on about the soundtrack, how it strayed far from convention and the genius of the man behind it. The unique soundtrack really adds an alien sensation to the otherworldly moments, and Morrigan tells you the composer is now highly sought after for future works after his success in the film.

The ship judders as you re-enter realspace, and the rest of your convoy jumps in with you simultaneously. All ships are slaved together under the same controls. Lieserl’s system is a quiet one, with barely any traffic, and the only major orbital structure is a small starbase for local repairs. Approaching the jungle planet, you are given a two-dimensional projection of the world, which contains only one major settlement with a single docking port. Attached to that city is a surprisingly large Jedi temple, considering the size of the population and the number of Jedi inhabitants. You could land there and investigate the people of the world, or you could land in the temple’s hangar; while disembarking at the commercial port could give you a better insight into the people of the planet, it would likely be seen as rude to the Jedi.

You decide to land…
>At the Jedi temple.
>At the starport.

>>5933390
>Jedi temple

Clean, direct, to the point.

>>5933390
>>At the Jedi temple.

>>5933392
As a note, I think "frustrated" is the best tone to use about the council rather than "angry". And doubly so if Morrigan is there to hear, as it normalises our feelings on the matter.

>>5933390
>At the starport.
I want to gather more information, seeing the people of their planet and their response to being slighted in such a minor way could tell us a lot.

>>5933390
>Jedi Temple Starport
>One of our number (Scion or Claire) lands at the city starport to gather info (ostensibly for supplies)

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The convoy of five ships crawl towards the planet at sublight speeds. You are within the cockpit, sat in the pilot’s seat, watching the world of emerald green expand; beside you sits your Padawan Morrigan. As you approach, the shades of green that makes up the world separates from one conjoined tone. Lieserl is painted in two different greens, one a lighter hue born of the green oceans, it is almost shiny from the reflected light originating from the star. The other a deep green, one born of dense vegetation fitting a jungle world. Your ship effortlessly slices through the atmosphere with a smooth elegance.

It is always a thing of beauty entering a new planet, watching the minuscule globe the size of a ball grow until its magnificent scale encapsulates all you lay your eyes on. A planet's imperceptible landmarks and features sprout from nothingness into large structures that fill you with awe. And Lieserl is a spectacular specimen of a planet. The jungle that has enrooted itself across every inch of landmass is far from the common jungles that coat planets across the stars. Trees reach up from the ground to claw at the clouds above with their massive forms. These trees are far larger than any you’ve seen before, their grand size making a mockery of all that would dare to compare, dwarfing them with incredible ease.

Radioing to the Jedi below and informing them of your incoming arrival, you watch as the megaflora expand as you approach the temple. These grand leviathans of ancient wood appear to huddle together to stave off loneliness, creating an incredibly dense canopy of leaves and bark. The singular city on Lieserl stands high above the jungle floor, sitting on the peak of the forest, resting its weight on the ancient trees native to this overgrown world. Advancing on the manmade structure, you notice a growth upon the city. The growth is another set of buildings, separated from the core of the city by its nonfunctional architecture, built to mirror the grandness of the mighty trees it stands on in contrast with the smaller, more functional buildings of the greater city.

Your nav-computer creates a holographic pathway to follow into the opulent side of the city, which must be the Jedi temple. The temple is not just a single building but a collection of polished white marble ziggurats gleaming resplendently in the midday sun. Landing, you exit your craft, taking a wide panoramic view of the incredible world you are fortunate enough to stumble upon. It is truly a planet of wonder, the only planet you could compare it to is the Wookie world of Kashyyyk. Your friends share in the amazement of the world, studying it with wide eyes of disbelief.

A man and two women stand by the landing docks wearing the customary Jedi robes, gazing at you with kind, inquisitive smiles, waiting for your words. The woman in the centre of the greeting party looks ancient beyond belief, fragile to the point where the lightest gust would cause her to disintegrate. The man and woman that flank her do not share her advanced age; whilst they wear smiles, their eyes tell a different story. Through the Force, you can feel hints of their emotions. Wariness and confusion dominate all other reactions to your arrival.

“Hello,” The eldest greets you, her eyes flitting from each and every one of you. “I am Master Reela. I oversee the Jedi temple here on Lieserl. This is Master Luke and Master Jaina. I must say I’m surprised we have guests; it is rare for us to see a new faces, but you are, of course, welcome. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why are you here?”

Stepping forwards, you draw their eyes upon you, and speak for your party. “Greetings, Masters; we are travellers looking for a new place to name home.”

“Oh?” Reela’s kind visage shatters, replaced with her true feelings of confusion and fascination. “And why here? We are only a small collective.”

Fainting hesitancy, you sigh and reply, “We tire of our fellows on Coruscant. They avoid solving issues, they allow problems to infect the galaxy and only treat the symptoms of the worst of the rot. We are looking for a new temple to call home, one freer from the grip of the Council and proactive when dealing with issues.”

“You have my sympathy, but here we follow the word of the Council to the letter.” Master Reela speaks in a sweet yet openly sardonic voice that holds no illusion of truth. “But you are welcome to stay with us for a time. We will see if your group is compatible with the way we do things here. If you are, then we would be happy for you to become permanent residents of Lieserl.”

Two days have passed since your arrival, and you have been staying within one of the ziggurats. Morrigan has shot you a few questioning looks since your landing, you have promised her an explanation soon, but you do not want to discuss it so openly. You know they are watching and listening to your every moment, and some things are best said privately. They fear you for some reason. The Jedi at the temple shoot you and your friends wary looks, appraising you to find the hidden danger you are surely bringing. You have tried to ingratiate yourself with the native Jedi, but they retreat from companionship, fearful of your intentions. Your allies have attempted similar approaches, but they equally fail.

They fear your intent and refuse to open up to you. What do you decide to do to shatter this barrier?
>Go to the area and challenge the locals
>Privately converse with Master Reela
>Talk to a local Jedi who seems to be moping
>Get one of your party to win over a local through conversation (write-in who)
>Write-in

>>5934311
>Talk to a local Jedi who seems to be moping

>>5934311
>Go to the Arena and challenge the locals.

Seems lke we came on a little strong. No matter, we have other means.
Use this as a chance to offer a spar, and we can excuse our interest in dueling with learning more of form 5.
You can learn a style swiftly if you are on the receiving end.

Once we have an In, we should start trying to go on patrols with a local

>>5934331
Upon reflection, actually helping people is well within our stated goals.

Ill change from >>5934333
>Moping jedi

And kinda hoping the jungle swallowed somebody in need of rescue.

>>5934339
Fighting and brutalizing the locals vs helping the locals with sidequests.

>>5934311
>Privately converse with Master Reela
They think we're here to bust them

>>5934311
>Take the Sidequest Bait & talk to the Emo Jedi

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Sitting atop the polished alabaster marble step of the temple, you let out a puff of frustration through your nose. They don’t trust you; they think you are working for the Council or are wary enough to feel opening up to you isn’t worth the risk. Your eyes are pointed towards a pit situated between the three ziggurats, but they aren’t focused on the display in front of you. Two knights are battling it out in a waist-high pit used as an area. When you first arrived here and investigated the place, you noticed a slight red stain marring one of the floor tiles, speaking of past bloodshed. The fight going on doesn’t interest you. Initially, you watched and pointed out the flaws in their attacks to Morrigan and Claire; but it soon became tiresome as the errors compounded, and you ceased.

“You should go down there,” Morrigan interrupts your blank stare, her voice echoing a hint of pride.

“To do what?” You look at your smiling Padawan, not following her meaning.

“To show everyone that her master is the best.” Claire shoots a sly grin at your blushing Padawan.

“N-no, to see how you compare to them, you might be able to learn something from them.” Morrigan huffs as her pink cheeks grow a shade darker.

Enjoying the sight of the embarrassed and outraged Morrigan, you share Claire’s infectious grin. In an overly formal tone, you reply, “Your wish is my desire.”

“Forget about it,” Morrigan scowls at you with eyes that could shoot daggers as she grabs your shirt, not allowing you to stand up, her cheeks still flushed red, before glaring away into the sky in a strop.

Claire scoots next to you and whispers into your ear, “She’s so cute. My master can beat your master.”

Morrigan makes a point of glaring into nothingness even harder and defiantly folds her arms across her chest. Claire goes to comfort and reconcile with the sulking teenager. As you watch the pair make amends, you spot a figure standing by himself at the edge of the temple, looking down into the forest below. You’ve noticed him before, moping as he stares into the maze of trees below, always the same spot with pain coating his face. This might be your in; if you can solve this man’s distress, he might be able to vouch for you.

“Hey Claire, I’m going for a walk. Might be a while, look after Morrigan for me.” Claire gives you a soft smile of affirmation as she brushes her golden-white swept bangs. Morrigan gives you a glare as you say your goodbye, clearly, she hasn’t forgiven you yet and doesn’t like the idea that someone needs to babysit her. You barely manage to suppress a chuckle, which would incense her more if made audible.

Walking over to the solitary man, you stand beside him, copying his pose by resting your arms on the wooden railing. “You alright mate?”

The man turns to face you, and you see the face of a haunted soul. Heavy dark circles sit under his eyes, bloodshot red webs coat the white of them and are devoid of focus. He gives you a blank stare, slowly processing the being that stands before him. His hair is wild and unkempt, with his robes messy and dishevelled; a faint odour speaks to the length they have been worn. Blinking a few times, the malaise begins to retreat, and his pained eyes focus on you.

“Sorry?” He looks at you, utterly confused.

“I asked if you are ok. Do you need help?” You speak in a quiet voice, worrying that your normal deep tone will scare the man like a skittish animal.

He looks at you, his mouth slack and hanging wide as the man tries to process a sentence. “I guess so.”

Still speaking in a voice as gentle as you can conjure, “What’s the problem? If you tell me, I can help.”

“My wife,” The man croaks, his eyes avert from your face as he speaks to your feet. “They got her.”

You wait for him to continue, but he does not, so you lightly verbally prompt him, “Who took her? If you tell me, I can get her.”

“They did,” He nods to the patch of the forest he was staring at before you joined him. “The Shades, we… we were collecting herbs on the forest floor. It is something we do from time to time, the temple needs them for some medicines. And the Shades found us. I-I managed to escape.”

“Ok, don’t worry, I’m going to get her. Just talk to me. That’s all you need to do. Why hasn’t Master Reela sent down a party of Jedi to get her?”

“If,” His voice cracks, and his chest begins to heave as he fights the tears welling in his eyes. He whispers, not trusting his voice, “If Arine is… still ok, the Shades will be holding her captive. Reela won’t send us to assault a Shade camp; their numbers are too great. They’d slaughter us.”

“I promise to you that I will rescue her,” Your words lose their kind gentleness and become firm and authoritative, “But you need to do something for me. When I return with your wife, you will tell me everything about this temple and world. You will convince the other Jedi here to trust me, to listen to me.”

The man, whose name you’ve not yet received, nods his head vigorously, “Yes, yes, please. I will do anything. Just return Arine to me.”

“Good,” You withdraw your commlink and have it project a three-dimensional holographic map. “Show me where you last saw her.”

The broken man taps a trembling finger into the hologram, leaving a blinking dot behind. He begs you to find his wife a few more times. Giving him a squeeze on his shoulder, you leave him with words meaning to calm him. Well, you’ve found your in, but you have no clue what sort of creatures Shades are. You tried to get more information out of the man, but he froze, likely reliving the moment he lost his wife. Furthermore, he told you something very interesting: he has a wife. The Order of Coruscant demands celibacy from its members, so this deviation tells that they do indeed have their own rules and culture here.

A part of you is irritated by the revelation; you've spent your life chaste, following the rules of the Council. Many women come across the galaxy, finding a thrill in tempting Jedi to break their vows. While you have spurned all advances, there are those in the order that play the hapless victim. Pretending to fall for these women's tricks that they are all too aware of and bed them. Luke is one of these Jedi, and you can't help but feel insecure, resentful and emasculated when talks of sex and relationships come up, due to your lack of experience.

If the full strength of this temple isn’t willing to take on the Shades to rescue one of their members, then there will be a real chance this task could prove fatal if something goes wrong. You decide to…
>Bring (Write-in) (Can be multiple members of your team)
>go solo

>>5935260
>Bring Ayala, Claire.
We need to scout the place first and we need intel.

With disguise we can get close, with the force and some gliders/pinions we can advance quietly. I'm taking the master because she's got experience and Claire because she has force speciality.

I think Scion is an inventor/swordsman and Luke is as subtle as a rancor.
We leave the padawans here.

>>5935260
Alyla, Scion, Claire, Luke
Give the padawans something to keep them busy and safe


I like that Chris has stuck to his principles as a Jedi regarding romance so far but I think this is a chance to change that. If he had gone for romance right away it would've cheapened it and his character I think.

>>5935260
>Bring Master Alyla, Scion, & Luke
I'm not sure how combat-specced Claire is, & someone needs to watch the Padawans + keep up mundane appearances, vouching that we left for a simple sight-seeing trip.

I assumed some remnants of the NJO would be here such as marriage being allowed when two of the Jedi were named Luke & Jaina. Perhaps the Fast, Balanced, & Strong styles have remained as well?

>>5935519
Why would we vouch that?

We don't need them to think we are going sightseeing, it's better if we don't lie about it.
And if we get into combat, we need a quick getaway, so put someone on pilot duty. these guys have numbers, maybe some force senstives. Best to not be seen, but if we are then attack the trees and their encampments. Force territory they can't move over but we can speed through. Smash and grab, not combat spec.

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>>5935519
>I assumed some remnants of the NJO would be here such as marriage being allowed when two of the Jedi were named Luke & Jaina
At one point marriage was allowed but the Order has become more monastic. Even in the Clone Wars era sex was allowed, but now it is decried.
>I'm not sure how combat-specced Claire is
Lightsaber Combat Skills:
Chris >= Alyla > Luke > Claire = Scion >> Padawans
What you think the Force Combat Skills:
Alyla > Chris >= Claire > Scion >= Luke >> Padawans
What they really are:
Claire >> Alyla = Chris >> Scion >= Luke >> Padawans
>Perhaps the Fast, Balanced, & Strong styles have remained as well?
Nah, I felt they were too gamey. I've only ever seen them in Jedi Outcast/Academy, so I haven't included them mentally.

Rolled 2 (1d3)

Rolling to tie break:
1: Ayala, Claire
2: Alyla, Scion, Claire, Luke
3: Alyla, Scion, & Luke

>>5935545
They were mentioned as "Circles of Protection" in defensive terms by Kam Solusar in one of the NJO books.
Inner = Fast
Middle = Medium/Balanced
Outer = Strong

To each their own though, it makes sense for the more refined forms to be rediscovered/retaught over time.

>>5935882
Ok, cool I've not really read any of the NJO books, I tend to gravitate back to the RoTS novelisation when I'm in a star wars mood. Any of the books you'd recommend?

Of the NJO, I can't say any stand out on their own that I've read.

Can't go wrong with Bane Trilogy or Plagueis though.

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This will be a harsh task, made apparent by the lack of effort undertaken by Reela’s temple. You are going to need to bring every one of your comrades to support the effort to find this captured Jedi. Of course, you will have to leave the two Padawans behind; this is far too dangerous for them to the point where they would be more of a hindrance than helpful. The worst possible outcome would be if they snuck along behind you, following you through the undergrowth, only to be captured or killed without you ever knowing they were in danger. You will need to give them their own task to distract them from mischief and let them think they are doing something important.

Gathering your fellow Jedi Knights along with Master Alyla onto your ship, you inform them of what the distraught man told you. Luke’s face lights up, hearing the prospect of action; he tenses and rolls his muscles. Alyla audibly sighs at the display with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, to which Luke replies with another flex and a wink, enjoying her exasperated expression. After that, you impress again for the second time that you aim to be in and out without any of the Shades, whatever they are, noticing you. The conversation turns to how to distract Morrigan and Cau adequately.

“It has to be some kind of mission,” Scion declares, “They need to think what they are doing is important to us, to the point where they won’t be tempted to slack off and do something stupid.”

“It has to be safe,” Claire chimes in with a nod. “Maybe investigate the city? Find out about the regular people of this planet?”

“Agreed, that sounds good,” Luke unsurprisingly agreeing with Claire, “They could do it in civilian clothes, so their task seems important enough secrecy is needed.”

“I like the sound of that; let's get them in here.” You conclude the exchange.

Cau and Morrigan enter the room. Morrigan’s wide eyes look at you with a deferential questioning. Telling them their mission of supposedly high importance, Cau grins with confidence, buzzing with excitement at the chance to prove himself. While Morrigan’s steel shell of determination returns. They leave and coming back, wearing regular clothing, allowing them to blend in with the locals. You watch Morrigan leave, hoping she will be alright without you to look over her. Alone with the other Knights and the Master, you hand out your compact gliders to Alyla, Claire and Luke, while Scion and you wear the ones you crafted all those years ago on Tion. They fit covertly under your cloaks and will allow you to silently glide down to the forest floor without the noisy engines of your starships.

Arriving at the closest point to the last known location of Arine, you stand by the temple’s wooden railing, staring into the dense foliage. Waiting until all the local Jedi are out of eyesight, the five of you leap over the bannister to the savage world below. The compact gliders’ wings shoot out, catching you in the air and halting your descent into the alien environment. Gliding through the canopy into the darkness created by the shade of the massive trees, you are slapped by the moisture in the thick air. You can feel the density of the humid climate in each of the breaths you take.

Circling down, the five of you spiral slowly as you take in the sight. Heavy clouds sit on the forest floor, subsuming the shrubbery in the fog's embrace. The massive trees that create the canopy have no branches down here, stopping you from climbing up them. Smaller, yet still massive, trees sit under their larger cousins’ shade, their branches intermingle in a thick web, creating a layer that appears impermeable to your gliders. Two meters above the large branches, your glider collapses and folds into its original form, hidden from sight. You gently land on one of the many tree limbs, and your friends follow suit, landing around you. Perched off the ground, supported by the vegetation, you look around and collect your bearings.

Strange cries echo in the twilight, reverberating all around from the world that imprisons you. The sound is utterly alien; you have no idea what kind of creature is screeching the shriek. Colour is stolen from the world; only dull shades have escaped the clutches of darkness. Nothing moves; the forest is entirely still, apart from your four friends swivelling their heads, trying to make sense of the scene around them. An eerie tingle slivers up your spine as you scan the world of darkness. You do not like this place, and it does not like you. You can feel it in the Force: you are not welcome; you are an interloper in another’s realm.

A roar blasts through the undergrowth, shapes you did not know where animals leap into the air, flying away from the thunderous sound. A following bellow booms again as if beckoning you closer. Looking at your comrades, you scan the faces of each one in the gloom and give a nod, nonverbally conveying your intent. Leaping from branch to branch, assisted by your strength in the Force, you approach the crying animal. Stealing a brief glance back, you are reassured by the sight of your friends following closely behind.

Perched up high, you finally see the beast. The crazed creature charges through the ground-level vegetation, leaving a trail in the fog behind it. It is a giant beast, the size of a Rancor, and the small rays of light that reach it glimmer off the creature’s refractive scales. A dozen large quills spurt from the bipedal monster's back. You watch as it travels under you, with Scion and Claire crouched next to you on the same branch, all watching the creature. The beast opens its maw and lets out a terrible roar from a jaw that could crush a landspeeder.

Then you see why the monster was charging and wailing; a dozen dark blurs race after the beast. Smaller, they are man-sized, but too fast for your eyes to focus on in this darkness. One of the shadows leaps up high, hefting a large spear, and then disappears into nothingness. As the shadow being vanishes, another Shade appears from nothingness, travelling the exact same trajectory but even higher, as if shot upwards into the air. The Shade pulls his arm back and throws it forward; the spear it had in hand punches into the giant monster’s back through its scaly hide. The quills on the back of the creature are not quills but spears piercing the thick hide of the beast.

As soon as the Shade throws its weapon, it vanishes again. The great creature, once proud and potent, an apex predator which would terrorise any world, screams once more in pain and falls to the floor. The rest of the Shades blink closer to their downed prey, leaping above the wailing monster, throwing more spears into the broken form until it lies still, slick with its own split blood. They run and blink, arriving at the dead creature’s feet and congregating in a collective that examines their hunt. They speak to each other in strange singing-song like language. Their forms flicker and shimmer as if not correctly tethered to this world. Squinting, you try to get a better view of the Shades; they are humanoids with ink-black skin, and their faces are entirely eyeless. Teleporting to different positions around the felled beast, they grab cutting tools, slicing into the unarmoured spots of flesh, and carving out chunks of meat.

Looking to your allies, they are captivated by these shadow beings. Withdrawing your commlink from your robes, you see you are a dozen kilometres away from the spot Arine disappeared; you could wait until these Shades finish butchering their kill and follow them back to their home. You can hope they are the ones that captured Arine or you could go to the location of her vanishing to track her assailants.
>Follow these Shades
>Go to Arine’s last known location

>>5936151
>Go to Arine’s last known location
Let's be more thorough in our investigation.

>>5936151
>>Go to Arine’s last known location

>>5936151
>Last known location.

Hmm. Definitely lethal. Especially in numbers.

>>5936151
>Follow these Shades extremely cautiously

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Fog begins to resettle, disturbed by the monster’s failed mad scramble to safety, it eeks forward, crawling along the forest floor towards the massive corpse. The mist engulfs the Shades up to their knees and slivers onwards, reaching the hulk of flesh weeping with black blood. Shades stab their knives into spots between the scales, prying them off the cadaver, digging the blades through the weak joints. You need to move on; sitting here or following them is too risky. While you don’t know how they see the world around them with their eyeless faces, it is too dangerous to sit still and pray they don’t spot you.

Looking around at your friends, you realise you do not want to open your mouth and vocalise your thoughts. If their sense of hearing has grown to compensate for their lack of sight, any words shared between your group would instantly alert the Shades. Instead of speaking, you make signals with your hands, pointing in the direction where Arine was lost to the humanoids of this jungle realm of darkness. At first, they do not understand, primarily due to them being captivated by the sight of these bizarre shadow beings. Only when you start to creep across the branches, away from the kill site, do they understand and follow your trail.

Soon, the Shades you encountered have been left behind, divvying up the carcass, but you still move with care to minimise your sound. With each leap between branches, you muffled your landings with the Force, stealing the sound that would echo throughout the night of the forest. Jumping from tree to tree, you pick up speed and silently race along the treetops. Periodically, you look behind yourself, making sure your party is still there, that you do not have any stragglers left behind, and you are not alone in the estranged world.

Looking into the faces of your companions, you see your uncertainty of the place reflected in Scion's face, while Luke and Alyla do not let their discomfort show in their visages, but you can spy the hidden emotion in their eyes. Claire is the most affected in the group; she has positioned herself in the centre of your formation. Her haunted eyes dart around, trying to spot the beast that will throw itself out of the darkness and snatch her in its talons. She clasps her Lightsaber hilt as if it can bring her some stability, with a white-knuckled death grip. Her long golden-white plait, turned grey by the lack of light, billows behind her, carried by her powerful leaps between trees.

Travelling through the gloom enforced by the canopy hundreds of meters above you, you finally arrive at the point where the man put Arine’s last location. You see nothing. The dark forest is the same as it was a kilometre back; nothing here is out of the ordinary. Ancient trees stand firm, small animals chirp and cry, and mist clings to the ground like one would do to a lost lover. Gazing down from your branch perch, you look around to spot anything indicating that some kind of struggle occurred here, but there is nought to identify any sort of fight.

Turning to your team, you ask with a muted voice, hoping they have spotted something you missed in the blackness, “Do you see anything?”

They reply to you with silence and a more focused scan of the world below them. Luke is the first of your fivesome to answer with words, still speaking in a hushed tone, “I don’t see anything down there at all. You think the guy gave us the wrong fucking location?”

“He did seem out of his mind,” Scion supports Luke, scowling into the undergrowth, seeing nothing.

“We should circle the area,” Alyla joins in, brushing a strand of midnight black hair from her face.

“No,” Hisses Claire, her face panic-stricken; her skin has managed the impossible, it is colourless than before, even paler than its natural chalk-white tone. “We need to leave.”

Alyla looks at you, wincing in a way that conveys her worry about Claire. Alyla speaks in a soft, maternal voice, “Claire, I know this place is awful, but we need to save Arine. She is feeling what we are, but tenfold. Let’s circle the area, and after we find her, we can all leave.”

“They have been following us; we need to go.” Claire reiterates, her eyes wild with panic, scanning every inch of the surrounding.

Scion brushes away a look of frustration hidden under his hand, wiping his beard. “Sure, Claire, we will leave as soon as we find Arine.”

Claire winces in pain, debating speaking the following words, reluctantly she whispers out, “Her Lightsaber is there.”

She points into the fog, right at the base of a tree. Luke jumps down, bouncing off branches to get to the mist-covered floor without hesitation. Reaching the ground, he strolls through the fog that grasps at him towards the location Claire pointed at. You weren’t sure about trespassing on the floor, it is obscured from view and could hold many traps and dangers, but Luke has broken the taboo. While you can never fault him for his bravery, you believe he is doing this for Claire, trying to speed up the process so that she can return to the city as soon as possible, free of this midnight realm. Luke struggles to find Arine’s Lightsaber; it is obscured by the veil of cloud, and the pointing doesn’t lead him to the device.

Finally, Claire pushes out with the Force, a wave of distributed power hits the ground, clearing the floor of the mist’s veil. Luke then spots the Lightsaber hilt an inch from his foot. You and the rest of your party jump down to the floor, joining Luke. Walking over, you see the nearby grass tinted the dark crimson of blood. Claire hovers behind you, hugging closer than your shadow, nearly in tears. Then you spot something else on the floor of Lieserl, a feminine severed hand, likely the one gripping the blade before it fell to the floor. Spaced-out footprints and broken plants show you a path, one which you believe will take you to the captured Jedi.

“Chris, can we please go back? They are watching us. They want us. They do such terrible things to captives. Can we go? Can we just go, please?” Claire begs with whispers into your ears, her eyes welling with unshed tears.

You wrap an arm around her, pulling Claire into a protective hug. She has always been a gentle soul; the pain and suffering of others have always deeply affected her. But you aren’t sure if you believe her words, she is in the grip of panic and could be mistaken or simply lying. Looking around, you see nothing that would indicate that something is watching you.

Roll a single 1d100 please, low is good, high is bad
>You decide to follow the path together.
>You send Claire back with Luke.
>You return to the surface together, Arine is a lost cause.
>Write-in

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>5937035
>Send claire back with luke.
>They might watch. And they might want this. But you are right, they do such terrible things and that cannot be allowed. Be safe, fly high and straight up.

Dice dont fuck me

>>5937036
>Rolled 14 (1d100)
Good roll, looks like Claire isn't going to get Bad Ended.

>>5937035
Check the hand, making sure it wasn't a lightsaber wound. Also examine the scene more closely, maybe there's more clues.

These guys don't seem likely to leave such an obvious path unless it leads to a trap. Make extra sure that there's not more subtle signs of a path leaving the scene.

Splitting up right now would just make us easy pickings. We need to rally the troops.

>>5937045
The others might elect to have us go forwards together.

Also, dont make us go Tusken village on these bastards.

>>5937036
+1
I would have voted to use the Force itself to grab the lightsaber from afar and not touch the ground, but here we are. Center & focus ourselves to sense any pursuers.

>>5937036
Upon reflecting, while I still stand by the write in, I am changing from sending her away to keeping us together.
>Move together.

Claire is a gentle heart but she cannot allow fear to stop her in the persuit of good. Just like how we really shouldnt split the party with stalkers around

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Releasing Claire from the hug, you place both hands on her shoulders. She is forced to look at you as you hold her in your gentle grip, making sure not to use any strength. Your gaze locks with her brilliant rubies for eyes, seeing all the distress and fear and pain locked within them. Slowly, you send minor ripples in the Force through your grip, little oscillating waves of energy flow from you to her. The pair of you mimic a circuit, your arms transmitting the current. Each of these minuscule flowing waves drift deep from your core, into her panic-stricken heart. You radiate warmth, friendship, happiness, joy, and laughter into her pounding chest in the shape of the good memories you have created together. You can feel the ice that has been building up in her soul melt, slowly eroded by the efforts, and a shy, embarrassed smile begins to grow on her scarlet lips that match her dazzling eyes.

You speak in a voice only for her, the rest of the world non-existent to the pair of you, “They might watch. And they might want this. But you are right, they do such terrible things and that cannot be allowed. Be safe, fly high and straight up.”

Claire softly blinks, keeping her eyes locked with yours. A flush colours her pale white cheeks a tender pink; you can feel your own cheeks heating up in embarrassment, turning the same hue. The connection allows you to feel her deep emotions, and you have openly shared your own; the intimacy of the action now dawns on you. As if zapped by a faulty power fuse, you recoil; no longer are your souls touching, hugging together in shared warmth. Running a hang through your slicked-back hair, you are slightly dazed; what just occurred was far from intentional, it was something that just happened with your mind on autopilot.

When your gaze stops scanning everything in eyesight, but the woman they were temporarily avoiding, you see Claire’s smile has gone from a shy grin to something of contented happiness, “I-

Something appears right behind Claire as she opens her mouth. There is a head sitting behind her shoulder. The face is as black as the void between stars, with no eyes to break its smooth scalp. As if time was held hostage by the sudden appearance of the creature, you see it slowly revealing a mouth full of bright white human teeth, with the odd one chipped. The thing flashes you a smirk of sly pride, taunting you as it reaches out a hand towards Claire that flickers as if out of a damaged holovid.

The molasses that entraps you retreats, your body already moving. Moving faster than the hand stretching out to grab Claire, faster than the Shades that burst into reality around you. One arm reaches out to snatch Claire before the shadow creature can lay a hand on her; the other already has a Lightsaber clenched in fist. The brilliant blue of the blade of roaring hot plasma erupts into the existence, the darkness shrouding the world flees from you, escaping into the depths of the forest. Searing plasma carves through the Shade’s outstretched arm as effortlessly as your blade cleaves through the darkness. Not halting, your Lightsaber continues its ravenous slash, hungry to claim a life. The blade slices through the creature’s neck, removing it from the Shade’s head from its body.

Alyla's twin blades, the ones which you copied, flare to life in the same sapphire blue as yours, mirrored by Claire’s Saberstaff. Scion’s regular blade is also blue but a darker shade, while Luke’s is an electric green. The combination of these light sources force the darkness back even further, and the remaining Shades cry at the sudden illumination. But their pain does not deter their attack. Opening up with a barrage of javelins, Claire catches them in a protective bubble of Force, easily batting them away. Thankfully, there are not many of them, only ten, not including one you have already slain.

Blinking, they appear around your party to surround you. Charging in, they flit through reality, appearing in unpredictable places and slicing down at you with primitive blades. You stab at one, trying to impale it through the Shade’s chest, but it blinks to your flank, avoiding your blow entirely. But it isn’t fast enough to prevent your Shoto from spearing the Shade through its maw. Alyla, whirling in a frenzy of blue, has butchered two already. They try to trick her by appearing where she would least expect them, but when they emerge in that spot, Alyla already has a blade approaching as the Force guides her hands. All the while Luke has entirely bisected a Shade, his green Lightsaber cleaving from head to groin.

Scion and Claire are having more trouble, and the Shades, dancing through reality, avoid their blades with an elegant ease but are unable to find sufficient openings to bring down their Jedi foes. The opening exchange that does not last more than a couple seconds is over, half the Shades lay broken and butchered on the floor, stumps glow from biting Lightsaber wounds. The now equal numbers and lack of surprise have heavily swung the engagement to your favour; you, Alyla and Luke fall upon the remaining Shades, killing the rest. The only wound received was a gash on Scion’s thigh, which you quickly bandaged after applying bacta gel.

After catching your breath, you briefly chatter, expelling the built-up stress. Claire reports that she no longer feels eyes watching and stalking you. Firm on continuing your quest, you give a final revaluation as you collect the Lightsaber sitting on the floor. The hand that had been severed was not cut cleanly; it was done by a sharp object, but the force behind the blow partially ripped the forearm clean. Before departing, you study the corpses of the Shades; in death, they do not shimmer through reality, and their black hide is entirely naked. Apart from their differences, such as their oily black skin and eyeless faces, they look very human. You follow the path left by Arine’s attacker through the incredible trees; they did not attempt to disguise their staggered path as there is nothing down here that hunts them; they are the kings of this realm.

Ahead, you spot a structure. A head high barricade of felled tree trunks. Climbing a lean tree with Force-assisted bounds, you look down into the construction. It is a perfect unmarred circle, with the walls leaning outwards at an angle; within it, you see a mass of Shades, easily a hundred, possibly two. They are hard to count with their rapid movements. The Shades have huts within their wooden fort; there is one structure greater than the others, easily quadruple the size of the lesser buildings. Despite all this life, you do not see a captured Jedi.

You…
>try to sneak.
>wait a while to see if you can spot Arine.
>try to ignite their fort.
>try to distract them and flee, allowing some of your company to sneak in
>write-in

Not sure if I will update tomorrow as the day will be a bit hectic for me.

>>5938073
>Use the force, Reach out to sense if there are any jedi there. Alyla and claire can do the same.

Also. . Whoops. Accidently validating childhood crushes cause I didnt change the write in from when she was leaving.
. . . Whoooooops.

>>5938103
+1
These Shades are creepy and I feel no remorse lighting them up.

>>5938103
This

Thinking about crushes and what not, has it been stated anywhere if Chiss are able to have children with humans? I know they had that accelerated maturation thing going on, so there should be decent genetic separation.

>>5938073
>>try to ignite their fort.
BURN IT TO THE GROUND

>>5938173
Kinda irrelevant. Alyla is Chiss and Clair is ramadar like us.

But we are near human, so should maoe for viable hybrids.

Yeah, as expected I'm not going to update today.

Any suggestions on how to improve the quest in your eyes, what you'd want to see that I haven't included or things that are there but I've not put in enough. Or issues with the pacing or prose or anyting.

>>5938957
No issues with the Prose.

Something I'm anticipating is watching Chris become a demagouge, since he has basically everything required for him to take charge of a splinter faction. The skill with a saber, strong connection with the force, the drive to change and the Charisma which is starting to show through. I look forward to when that last part is brough out to its fullest, probably in the main temple if narritives are anything to go by.

I'm also fond of Chris' thoughts on none dogmatic matters. Even if I would have advised him to curb some of his excesses, its fun to hear his frustration at other jedi's laxities. And when things go right or wrong. It gives him a distinctive voice.

I WOULD like to go a bit further in detail with Morrigans training, but that can wait until we sit down and dedicate a month to it.

>>5939305
Thanks, that's good to hear. I will make sure Morrigan takes more of a spotline next thread.

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You need to know if Arine is located within that camp; for all you know, there could be countless camps in the local area, and she could have been traded away or stolen by a rival tribe of Shades. As you take count of the situation, you dissect your own thoughts; traded or stolen means that the Jedi has some worth to these nightmare beings. And that Arine’s body was not found broken and lifeless next to her severed hand means they took her, so they must hold value to Arine. Briefly puzzling about what kind of worth they could assign to her, you shake the thought off; it isn’t a conductive line to ponder; it won’t help you save her.

Scion floats the idea of one of you sneaking into the camp to search for her, but that is far too risky. Sneaking in to rescue her is one thing; sneaking in to search for her is another. You shoot the idea down quickly, giving him no chance to argue its merit. Luke wants to go in with Lightsabers blazing, but the numbers are far too great to overcome with skill. However, you think he is saying it more to project an image of confidence rather than taking his own idea seriously. Alyla gives him a stern look silencing him, daring him to allow another stupid word to leave his mouth.

“Before anything, let’s try to see if we can feel Arine in the Force before we jump to any plans to rescue someone who might not even be there.” You speak with a calmer voice than you feel, observing that many beings that would want nothing better than to part you from this world is not something very comforting. “Luke, Scion, can you keep watch while Alyla, Claire and I can see if we can pick something up?”

“Sure boss, don’t worry about a thing. Take your time. I’ve got your back.” Luke boasts proudly, but you know he realises the important work is going to be done by you and the girls. Scion wears a look of neutrality and just nods.

Sitting on the tree branch, you close your eyes as you rest in the typical Jedi meditative pose, your legs crossed and your palms open. Stretching out with your feelings, you feel the wonderful world around you. So much incredible life. It is awe-inspiring, but it is also dark. So much blood has been spilt here, every inch of the world feels corrupted and contaminated. Darkness lingers on every inch, on the smallest insects of the world and of the trees that dominate the skyline. Reaching out, your senses encroach upon the camp. The lifeforce of the nearest Shades begins to come into focus rather than the vague outline you had from a distance. You can feel the Force radiate from the beings; this brings you to the inference that the Shade’s teleportation is granted by their genetic affinity with the Force.

Getting your Force sight closer to the Shades, pain begins to blossom in your skull as you get a true view of the beings that simply don’t make sense. They are broken and wrong, not just in the way that echoes of the dark side, but something utterly warped about the beings. It is like a kaleidoscope of darkness, a fourth-dimensional wraith, constantly moving in ways your brain can not begin to comprehend. The pain explodes in your brain, the violent reaction strips you of your concentration, and your eyes flash wide open. You do not allow the irritation to build at your failure; it is not the way of the Jedi, and it will only harm your ability to scout out their backward camp.

You fail and fail again. You keep failing, and you find both of the girls are similarly struggling with the task. Each time you allow your senses to creep into the camp, you find Shades steal your focus as their appearance scrambles your mind in fits of pain. Again and again, you try sneaking into the fort with your mind with a narrower view, as if a serpent slithering through the masses all the while avoiding looking at them. It is a game of trial and error, where the pieces on the board are constantly moving.

Finally, you are at the precipice, so close to exploring the large hut, then someone shakes you ever so cautiously. The spell broken you open your eyes, anger inside you explodes then instantly dissipates as you find Alyla’s wondrously beautiful face in a playful smirk inches from your own. Despite everything, you know you are flushing, forgetting the seriousness of the situation; her smirk grows wider, loving the blushing schoolboy she can effortlessly turn you into. Exasperated, you ask yourself if she will ever stop teasing you, only to find an answer: you pray she never does.

“I found her,” Alyla withdraws, telling you, still grinning that predatory smile of victory. “She’s in the large hut.”

As if on cue there is movement in the camp. Every single Shade blinks in unison, all surrounding a flat stone placed in the centre of the camp. A small ray of light illuminates the singular spot, which is almost unique. This single ray of light reaches up to the highest canopy unbroken by any branch or leaves. Following its path, you see what could be a flap made of unbroken wood attached to a tree and a thick vine; you surmise with a pull from this rope, that sheet of timber will break the line of illumination, coating the stone in the dull darkness of the forest. Within the beam, there is a structure that appears to be a frame, and next to this spot is a Shade; in one of its hands is a hunched Twi'lek woman on her knees, cradling a stump where a hand should be.

The Shades force Arine into the frame that locks around her, trapping her in its grasp, all the while avoiding contact with the light. In unison, the Shades surrounding the spotlight begin to blink rapidly as one; you are unsure if they are trading places or simply blinking in the same spot. Singing begins from the mouths of the choir, despite their horrid appearances, it is very beautiful, hauntingly so. Another Shade appears in the centre next to the trapped Jedi, in its hands is an old, dented jug of worn metal. It contains a black syrupy liquid that bubbles and belatedly pops as if boiling. In contrast, the first Shade grabs tools and forces Arine’s mouth open, putting a device of wood between her jaws, stopping her from closing her mouth.

Roll a single 1d100 please
You…
>cause a distraction and run off into the woods, allowing your team to rescue the bound Jedi as the Shades chase you.
>set alight to their camp and then try to rescue Arine, hoping they will flee the fire.
>watch with a perverse curiosity, see what their ritual will do.
>write-in

>>5939627
Is there anything that glitters and shines? Because I think that spreading that light around might be a tad disruptive to the proceedings.

I also have an intuition that this ritual is a bonding/initiation ritual, and frankly we can't be allowing that.

>Cause a distraction and run.
>Distract them either by reflecting the light to the masses, see if that causes them pain. Or we can try opening the canopy above to let more light in.
>At the very least, spill that black liquid before they can pour it down her throat.

I rolled last time so I will let the others do so.

>>5939629
>Is there anything that glitters and shines? Because I think that spreading that light around might be a tad disruptive to the proceedings.
No, they avoid things like that for obvious reasons.

>>5939629
Hmm. Ordering the others to arson the buildings on their way out might also be an idea. Any damage done now is damage they will spend energy repairing, rather than raiding.

>>5939630
Right that confirms it.

>>5939629
>Change this post to full on Arson.

I still want to open the canopy, we can send Scion to do that with a glider. Push himself up with the force and jump off the tall trees.

The rest of us set the fire and spill the liquid.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>5939627
>ARSON

>>5939627
Tear apart the canopy with the force by whatever means we have, illuminating the whole area.

>>5939831
Well shit, that's not good.

>>5939836
we can direct scion and Claire to do that. Their force powers will be quicker than our lightsabers and removes the physically weakest from the immediate line of fire.

Feeling pretty tired, might not update today, probably going to sleep right now. Also I said here >>5931550 for 1d100 rolls you have a single reroll per thread for singular 1d100 rolls, because it is a pretty harsh roll system. Not that I'm saying you should, just reminding people.

>>5940567
Well guys, What do you reckon.

Is potentially evading a 200 strong mob of teleporting monsters a good exchange.

Or sre we confident in the fire and light idea?

>>5940570
76 is a pretty good roll in my book for best of 1. Unless it's roll under

>>5940577
It is roll under. 75% chance to get better

>>5940635
Yeah we definitely need to reroll then

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>5940637
Thats two out of 3.

If the Qm opposes he can veto the roll until its "finalised" but if not, then here. We. Go.

>>5940666
Hahahahahaaaaa.

Fuck. My hubris cosy ùs greatly. And we may only hope the plan mitigates some of it.

>>5940666
bruh wait for the QM to ask for a roll

We better channel our inner Nomi Sunrider to overcome this darkness, lads. Creepy ass enemies, I'm thinking Alchemical Sithspawn whipped up on Byss by Palps' Peeps.

>>5940666
Kek, i had a feeling it would turn out like this.

>>5941176
There is a faint and distant chance the QM will say "wait until I have counted the votes for it".

But just as likely this is a "you have made a mistake, this is your punishment" angle.

>>5941253
I am the QM and this was an awful fail.

best of one roll is cringe. what's the point of voting on a course of action? people think bo3 is the norm because players don't want to ever fail. but the real reason is bo1 makes dumb plans work great and good plans fail in really contrived ways. real life situations are not as unpredictable as the results of a single 1d100 roll.

>>5941266
I get what you are saying, but I want there to be failure in the quest. Probably shouldn't have used it here, as it was a good plan, but the idea was like how in Pearl Habour no carriers were there. Some things just don't go your way. But if you guys want me to change this to a best of three I can.

>>5941273
it's your quest, stick to your guns. I think the challenge of coming up with a plan to recover from a failure can be fun. but weighing dice too heavily may be fun to write but it's not fun to play.

>>5941273
if our plans do matter then maybe it would be more obvious with a +modifer when we roll based upon the plan

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Something is about to happen. They are going to pour that liquid down her throat, you can’t allow them to fulfil this strange ritual. You figure that either this is a ritual sacrifice of a hated powerful enemy where the vicious bubbling liquid would burn her insides or a ritual making her one of these Shades. Or you could be completely wrong, and it's something else, but what they are doing doesn’t matter; all that matter is you are going to stop them, whatever their goal. The plan can’t be long, intricate and well thought out; it has to be enacted right now.

“Claire, Scion, I want you to rip apart the canopy, allowing as much light to fall within the camp. Alyla and Luke, set ablaze to the perimeter walls. After your tasks, everyone join me within the camp and help fight the ones that do not flee.” You bark out a voice full of authoritative commands, allowing no descent or questions.

You do not wait for a reply, not even a scan of everyone’s face to see a level of understanding; you leap off of the grand branch you and your allies are perched upon. Empowering your body with the Force, you speed along the jungle floor; you are a blur to the rest of the world, a lightning bolt speeding across the ground. You feel Luke and Alyla behind you, racing to their target. Approaching the barricade surrounding the camp, you throw yourself into the air; your speed sends you hurtling over the wooden wall like a ballistic missile.

Landing within the camp with a thud of an impact that threatens to steal your breath, you refuse to allow the Shades to get in the first action. Looking at the captured Jedi and the flask of evil liquid you call upon the Force, the jug goes flying out of the Shade’s hands, spinning in the air, harmlessly spilling its contents on the camp floor as it lands with a loud clang. At the same time, the contraption that imprisons Arine explodes with your careful control, not allowing splinters to shoot from the eviscerated structure into Arine. Finally, you rip the falling form of the broken Jedi towards you through the horde of Shades into your arms.

Catching Arine’s limp body in your right arm, you shoot her a quick, confident, and reassuring smile, only to see her face coated in deep purple bruises as she dumbly blinks, her mind clouded in the miasma caused by repeated beatings. That one look is all you can spare her, and your eyes return to the mass of Shades, no longer blinking in place or singing but just watching you. You would wager that they would be staring at you dumbly in shock if they had eyes. Keeping your gaze upon them, you slowly lower Arine to a crumpled heap behind you.

Shrill cries screech from the Shades' mouths, they howl in outrage at the interloper breaking their ritual. Drawing your twin Lightsabers, you bring them to life; the sibling blades hum, waiting for their taste of flesh. Shooting a quick glance upwards, you see no gap in the canopy; the trees still stand firm and strong. Nor do you feel the heat of fire building as it engulfs the perimeter wall. You are staring at two hundred Shades dripping with hatred in their dark, gloomy world of the endless night with, as of yet, no support. Mentally, you roar out an angry question that disguises your fear: where the fuck are they?

The camp is an arena; the high walls are the pit that entraps you into this gladiatorial battlefield. You do not need them; all you need are the twin blades that have been through everything with you; they will not fail you as others will. You turn your fear to a raging anger to an infuriated outrage and self-confidence; you will not fall here, not today, not to them; you have so much you need to do. The army of shadow beings glare at you, murder in their non-existent eyes; you are not able to conjure the Jedi acceptance and trust in the Force; that is something this army of Shades has stolen from you, the only well of power you can tap is your own roiling, seething emotions.

They charge at you, running and blinking through reality; a river of black humanoids flows towards you, surrounding and engulfing you. Javelins screech as they rip through the air around you, you dodge, weaving and contorting your body and slashing out with your Lightsabers. You butcher these deadly darts, killing them before they can strike you. But before you are done, Shades pounce on you; your Lightsabers feast upon flesh, their burning touch carves through the first Shades with ease as the rest madly fall upon you. Spears jab and bite at you, trying to bury themselves deep within your flesh, but you do not stand still, waiting to be skewered by their weapons.

Calling upon your every ounce of strength in the Force, your body burns; it burns with the inferno that should be lighting up this deathtrap. The Force boils in your veins, replacing your blood with liquid fire that gnaws at your body, hungry to consume your flesh and burst out into the world. Shades engulf you; you are trapped in a prison of flitting shadows that warps in and out of reality. Your brilliant sapphire blades cleave through the darkness, through the now broken bodies of the Shades. But there is no reprieve; another Shade always replaces the spot you have carved out. The horde of Shades bears down on you as an avalanche would to a man.

There is no turning point in the battle, no trick or simple dumb endurance that saves you, that flips the odds to your favour, there numbers are simply too great. They are like gravity; no matter how hard you fight and push, they will always win. A spear you thought you dodged skims your calf, slicing into muscle, sending you stumbling over a partial body of a Shade you have already killed. Laying on the corpse, you spin, facing up to the heavens that are still blocked by the great trees that reach up hundreds of meters. Before you are able to return to your feet, a Shade warps on top of you, pinning you to the ground with his spear recoiled, about to strike, about to surge forward and split your skull as you lay on the mound of butchered bodies.

You are Claire, and you have thrown Scion as far as your might allows you to. He rockets upwards into the high, tangled branches that block the sunlight from touching the forest floor of Lieserl. His glider allows him to reach such heights paired with your desperate push. Scion hacks at the branches with his blade. The thick arms of the trees eventually are severed by the dark blue blade, but your heart falls as the massive branch tumbles down, only to be captured by another. Scion works desperately, hacking at more branches, but the density of the trees prevents him from succeeding in his task.

Panic beats in your heart; you and Scion have failed. You need to move; you need to help Chris. Sprinting from your perch to approach the camp, seeing Luke and Alyla, but no blaze, no fire. Emergency torches with bright burning tips are pressed against the wall but to no avail. The thick water vapour in the air, causing the humidity, stops the burning ends from taking hold, the damp wood rejects the flares in totality. As you approach the pair, two dozen Shades blink into existence about them. Alyla and Luke do not see their attackers in time, focused on setting the fort alight. With a roar, you throw your arms forward, sending a hurtling tsunami of the Force into the Shades, throwing them into the perimeter of their base, leaving them slumped by Luke’s and Alyla’s feet.

Alyla and Luke quickly slaughter as many of the prone Shades as possible before they manage to recover. But recover they do; you and the other two battle this platoon of Shades, their teleporting abilities making the fight a hard-fought thing. Eventually, you prevail, grateful for both Luke and Alyla; without either of them, you know the Shades would have got you. But victory does not bring peace or confidence. The battle was not a quick one, Chris is still alone within the fort. Your heart manically pounds in fear for him; you leap over the barricade, your own safety long forgotten, you are ready to face down the hundreds of Shades by his side.

You do not see your worst fear that has flitted into your mind; there is no scene of the Jedi you have been deeply infatuated for years laying alone and broken. A man with two brilliant blue Lightsabers is alone; he stands atop a corpse mound, and bodies are strewn across the entire interior of this camp of death. Gore and black blood coat his every inch, none of it is his own. Seeing Chris alive, your paused heart beats again, and tears of joy spill from your eyes without reservation as you run to him. His face is different, though; the long scars carved into his face glow an electric red, but you don’t care, he is alive. You wrap your arms around Chris and embrace him with all your strength, promising that you will never let him do anything as stupid as that again. Chris engulfs you in his strong arms, and you bury your head into him, nuzzling him. Chris’ warm and familiar smell fills your brain, and you feel more at home in his arms than you have ever felt before.

Finally, you look up again, gazing into Chris’ handsome face, no longer are the scars glowing. He looks down at you, dazed and confused. You wear a silly grin, unable to hide just how happy and relieved you are. Looking up at him, you are drunk on joy, melting into his embrace, enjoying his muscular body pressed against yours.

You…
>kiss Chris.
>withdraw from the embrace, utterly embarrassed.

>>5941288
They do, but 74 and 98 aren't good rolls. The modifier was invisible but there.

>>5941302
yeah no debate there. I'm just saying a visible modifier helps

>>5941301
>withdraw from the embrace, utterly embarrassed.
I don't think Chris would respond well to it

>>5941301
>Withdraw, embarrassed.

Still a jedi.
Also holy blade masters. The fuck Chris.

Was not expecting any of this, I like how you handled our plans failing. I was expecting much worse on our protag's end though.

>>5941395
Glad you liked it

>>5941343
You know, I thought about it.
And with the sharing of emotions, the high of danger, the fear of failure and the relief of him being alive, if Claire has any moment of weakness its now.

>Change to Kiss the fool
This isnt the logical or the right choice, but I believe it is character

>>5941301
>>kiss Chris.

File: Kiss.jpg (108 KB, 1024x576)

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You are Chris, and colours blend into each other, shapes long forgotten; all you are able to make out are the formless colours dancing, mingling together. You do not know how you got here or where here even is. There is something pressed against your chest with strength, not too much strength; it doesn’t bring pain, but enough to the point your weakened form could not fight it. Closing your eyes, you pray for the world to stop spinning, but closing your lids causes the planet to rotate even faster. On autopilot, your arms wrap around the thing that has you trapped in its embrace. As the colours of the world begin to recede into the objects they are birthed from, the spinning slows as if a merry-go-round is stopping, slowing for the next occupant.

The thing that clings to you is soft and warm and feels so right within your arms. Looking down at the figure, you see something in the world of blurs; you see a face crystal clear. It is the only thing concrete in this haze you are trapped within. It is the face of an angel, flawless white porcelain skin unblemished apart from the tear stains running from her eyes. Her vulnerability is something you are drawn to, something you want to shield and protect from this mad galaxy. Wide, imploring eyes gaze up at you with their ruby-red gleam, needy and wanting. Of course, it is Claire; who else but Claire would be clinging to you so tightly, grinning up at you with pure relief, with her face wet with her own tears?

Claire’s arms move, leaving your chest, bringing a slight sorrow in your heart, your head still drunk. But as if hearing your desires, they wrap around you again, but this time your neck. Standing on her tiptoes, she closes the distance and gently pulls you into her. Her face approaches yours; you aren’t sure why, but a closer inspection of her beauty is welcome; in fact, you aren’t even sure if she is really coming closer. The world is still a mess your brain has yet to process.

Her lips are the same wonderful scarlet as her eyes, contrasting perfectly with her chalk white skin, utterly striking. Mesmerising. They have cast a spell upon you, enchanted you with their magic and you are a happy captive. Tentatively, gently, they press against yours with a timid shyness. There is a pause as you feel her soft lips on yours, waiting for you to pull away with anger on your face. Of course, you do not; why would you? This fever dream is one you welcome. Clearly, you have died, died from something you just can’t quite remember, and are being rewarded by the Force with a rapturous hallucination.

Your hands slide, no longer holding her in a hug, they grip her hips with a firm gentleness, hungrily pulling her into you. Your mind is utterly a mess; all you know is this beautiful figure in your arms and your heart that shoots wonderful tingles throughout your body. Claire reads your desires, matches it and then surpasses it; her kisses grow with her passion, fuelled by her poorly disguised, long-lasting infatuation. With every movement, Claire slowly explains to you what she has been feeling for these last ten years. Savouring every long second that you commit to memory, you happily dance along to her actions, replying in kind, begging her to describe in ever greater detail.

Eventually, belatedly, your lips part, but you remain still in each other’s arms. Gazing into each other’s eyes, breathless, recovering from the long moment. Claire peers through her golden-white swept bangs that almost obscure her right eye; a slight gentle giggle escapes her lips that only an instant ago were interwoven with yours. Never have you felt something so electrifying or euphoric; nothing in your life could compare to what just happened there. You want more of Claire; her lips only remain an inch from yours, they wait in anticipation for you to steal them again and again, wanting nothing more than to relive that moment until the stars themselves die. Then you see the bodies.

Hacked bodies surround you, shredded like meat gone through a grinder, but that’s not the worst thing that you see. Claire jumps from your grip as if shot with a stun weapon as the world comes into view again. The bodies aren’t the worst part; honestly, you do not care about the butchery of the Shades; it is not like they are innocent of heinous crimes; the worst part is the two faces gawking at you. Alyla and Luke are frozen; somehow, their faces are as white as yours, their mouths slack in shock, and their eyes are wide, trying to understand the scene that just unfolded.

“Hmm, seems they don’t approve, but personally, I like Claire. Passionate, loving, soft and most importantly she has a great pair. She’d have been an excellent slave in my day.” The long-dead Sith cackles in your head. “Well, I guess the Nexu is out of the bag; it's a shame I had to reveal myself to you in such a way. Next time, please don’t jump into suicidal situations; I can’t save you from everything. But I must admit I am looking forward to working more openly with you on your crusade.”

Scion finally arrives and breaks the silence, cutting through the strange tension he must have felt. He calls in his ship, piloted by Morrigan, and you discuss almost all of what happened. How Lord Merek piloted your body and slaughtered every single Shade in the fort. You tell them that Merek whispered words into your head. As you speak, Scion’s ship fires its cannons into the trees, cutting a path through the forest to your location. Luke walks away silently, caring for the brutalised Jedi captive and tending to her wounds. Alyla similarly says nothing and glares off into the forest's gloom; her impassive face tells little of the fuming emotions that radiate from her unveiled. Claire is unable to stop blushing, her cheeks glow with the brightness of a fusion torch.

Arriving at the world above, Scion pulls you aside as Morrigan parks his ship, “Hey mate, I’m glad you are still with us. I was fucking terrified we lost you back there. You look all kinds of fucked up; want me to be the one to speak to Arine’s husband and Reela while you recover?”

These will be important discussions that will shape your relationship with the Jedi of Lieserl, you want to lead them. It only makes sense; this is the crusade that you started, and you are happy for the help, but this feels important, something you should do. But your limbs are heavier than iron, and sleep is fighting a winning battle to take hold.
You…
>talk to Arine’s husband and Master Reela.
>go to sleep.

>>5942729
Can we talk to someone about hearing voices in our head?

>>5942742
>You tell them that Merek whispered words into your head
Yeah, they know. Sorry the update didn't cover the reaction to it all, but I didn't want to write like 2.5k words for it.

>>5942746
Oh, you mean right now in more detail as the next update, sure.

>>5942729
>talk to Arine’s husband and Master Reela.

>>5942729
>>talk to Arine’s husband and Master Reela.

>>5942729
>Talk to the husband and Master Reela.
Fuck you, Spirit.

And juicy DRAMAAAAA

About the ritual: Shades were once humans warped by the terraforming powers of the Rakata. As the dark side energies warped them into Shades they lost the ability to reproduce and age. The liquid turns people into a half-Shade, allowing the recipient to give birth to more Shades. The stronger in the Force the raped woman is, the more potent the teleporting powers of the children are. If you rolled poorly here >>5937036 Claire would have been captured like Arine was. Thats why she was freaking out, Claire felt the echoes of that possibility and you failing to save her in the Force.

>>5943036
Huh, called it.

Also, We need to genocide this whole fucked species.

>>5942729
>SLEEP
We're big-damned heroes anyway, so our rep will grow preceeding us.

>>5943059
+1

I think we'll be getting busy with Claire considering my captcha:
PNAS

>>5943090
We've got bigger things to be concerned with, Primarily.

>That bastard Merek is in our head. Actually, literally, in our head.
>We are jedi, and raised in the strictest, most dogmatic portion of the order under the head of the orthadoxy. Our feelings on the matter are gonna be a bit complicated.
>How much of ourselves is ourselves? What happened with Porro, was that truly just the last straw of disgust as the old man drew his lightsaber? Or did Merek interfere there as well?
>Is this at all safe, how do we keep him out, how do we keep him away from the jedi and our friends?

We've not got the rigid discipline to shove him away that a dogmatic man would have.

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With a groan, you tell Scion, “Fuck, man, I wish. But no, I want to see this through.”

He laughs and gives you a gentle pat on your shoulder, “Ok, but if you pass out, I’m taking all the glory.”

Leaving Scion’s ship, you, him, and Luke walk out into the bright world together. Morrigan shadows you from behind, wordlessly but hungry to talk to you alone. No longer is the air a thick, humid stew that soaks you with its embrace and forces laboured breaths, and the gloom crafted by the skyscraping trees is gone. No longer is darkness surrounding you from every angle, sitting between the trees you happily abandoned on the forest floor. Luke is carrying a bundle of rags in his arms with the gentleness of a new father; with each footfall, he makes sure to keep the bundle steady with the utmost care. Within the rags is a rescued but damaged Jedi, Arine curled into the foetal position. She is so incredibly small in comparison to his hulking frame.

Strolling out, you see the dour-looking Jedi sitting on one of the raised steps of the temple. His glazed-over eyes do not see the sight of you approaching him. Only when you stop in front of him does he notice your trio. He blinks a few times, clearing away the mist from his eyes to take in the sight of the three figures cornering him. Despair fills his eyes, not noticing his wife in the cloth pile that Luke hefts with ease. It takes him a second to read the smiles on your faces, and confusion eeks into his.

“Luke, please take Arine to the medical ward. I want to talk to this man alone.” You speak, keeping your eyes locked on the shattered man, unsure how such an unstable man will react.

“Sure,” Luke says simply and leaves, walking through an entrance leading to the internals of a ziggurat.

The man jumps up and runs to chase after Luke and his wife, which Scion blocks with an outstretched arm. Scion’s arm stands firm as the man pushes against it; his strength is gone from depression-induced starvation. Scion gives a slight friendly chuckle that holds an undercurrent of threatening power, “Whoa, hold your horses; the man seems to have forgotten his deal Chris.”

“Hey mate, you can be with her in a minute, but you promised me anything to bring her back safe and sound,” You speak with a gentle, reasonable tone, trying to get him to control his emotions instead of having them explode. “Arine is alive, and your medical team will care for her, ensuring she will be well again. But before you go to see her, you owe us; it is a simple task that will take just a minute, and you can be back with your wife. All you need to do is go to Master Reela, vouch for us and get her to meet with me for a one-to-one meeting. That’s all you need to do. Can you do that?”

Your last words would not sound out of place if they were coming from a concerned parent speaking to an emotional child. He vigorously nods his head with an energy you’ve not seen from the man before; he sprints off to the central ziggurat, which you believe Reela calls home. Scion grins at the humour of the interaction, finding his role as the stern, confrontational one of your duo rather funny. Morrigan stands a couple of feet behind you, waiting patiently, clearly wanting to speak to you about so much. You promise her that you will explain everything soon; you just have to do a few things first, and then she can ask everything and anything she desires.

Returning to your ship, you throw off your clothes stained with odorous blood in a messy pile and walk into your shower, enjoying the cleansing liquid that washes away the filth from your skin. It is rejuvenating, and you finally feel comfortable in your skin. Exiting the room, you gaze at your bed; it calls you like an inviting siren, not the first you've been tempted by today. You garb yourself in new, warm clothing that feels so good, leaving your old clothes coated in crusted blood sitting in a heap. That is a tomorrow Chris problem; he has a fair few to deal with. All you need to do is talk to Reela, and then you can accept the embrace of well-deserved slumber.

A chime rings through your ship; someone is at the entry port. Hopefully, it is the man telling you about the scheduled meeting, and he can then run off to his wounded wife. Master Jaina stands before the doorway that has parted under your command; she looks at you with analysing eyes as if they’ve only just set sight on you. “Master Reela has invited you to meet with her now regarding your stay on Lieserl, please let me take you to her.”

She turns and leads you to the pyramid where Reela resides. Just before the grand marble door leading to Master Reela’s personal room, Jaina stops and turns to you, speaking in a warmer voice, no longer cold and formal, “Thank you for rescuing Arine, the Shades… They are evil creatures, and you saved her from much cruelty and suffering.”

The large white marble door slowly slides inwards as Master Jaina finishes her words for you. Stepping inside, the door swings closed behind you, leaving you standing and looking down at the ancient temple master. The room is a good size but not overly spacious or grand like you predicted; Master Reela sits on one of the intricately woven carpets, and with a pat, she beckons you to join her. Joining her on the floor, you scan the room again, admiring the murals and the water feature mimicking a waterfall, likely used for bathing.

“Thank you for saving one of my flock; I truly believed we had lost her forever, and for that, I will always be grateful to you and your comrades. Sorry for not taking your words seriously before; we simply couldn’t trust you. We, too, have issues with the Council, but we do not want to anger them to the point of hostility, so we practice caution. Let us be honest with each other; what is it that you want, and what do you want from us?” The decrepit Jedi Master asks you with the utmost seriousness.

“I am tired of the suffering of the galaxy. Trillions of beings live abysmal lives with no hope for a better tomorrow for themselves or their children. I want to remedy at least some part of it. The Hutt’s empire perpetuates a cycle of suffering that is unending. My people are one of their victims, one of their slave races. They are shipped between worlds for body-ruining tasks that often lead to death, and are used as a slave class. Their suffering is used for the amusement of the many sadists of the Hutt's empire, and women are bought by brothels and for domestic slavery. And my people are one of too many. The Council and the Republic have done nothing and will do nothing; temporary pain isn’t worth the liberation of countless future generations to them. I want Hutt rule long gone, as well as the twisted cruelty of The Singularity's suicide cult.”

“That is a great task.”

“I know it will take all of me to accomplish it. But I will get it done.”

“I sympathise; I’m sure many of my Jedi do as well. But I have forty-eight Jedi, sorry, forty-nine, thanks to your efforts. We would not be enough to achieve this change. What would be your plan moving forward?”

“Here would be our base, an area concentrated of trusted Jedi who agree with the cause and will fight for its success. Lieserl is our first step in this journey; we want to build our initial base of Jedi here. I would want many of your members off-world, travelling to other temples, spreading our word, and convincing more Jedi to take up our cause. There are many Jedi, thousands, that hate this slow death of the Republic.”

“If we are to join you, this will take massive armies and warfleets that have not been seen for thousands of years. Where would they come from? The Republic will not allow us to steal their navy.”

“I have friends that I believe will assist us with that. After this meeting, I will contact them soon to see what they can provide. Then chase the other names that they will supply us with, people who are sympathetic to our beliefs.”

“This is a great wager; as you said, there will be pain, and that will involve countless beings. But I agree with your reasoning, we too are not able to cope with the misguided missives from the Council. We, too, want a better galaxy. But before I offer you my support let me tell you about my branch of Jedi. This world is owned by this temple; we were gifted it before the Ruusan Reformation. Those on Coruscant gave the Republic to politicians who always end up more interested in their own purses than the good of their constituents. Millennia, after Millennia has shown the folly of that decision, if we work with you and see a better galaxy carved out of the Hutt’s empire, we would demand that we do not copy the Republic. That we, the Jedi, serve the needs of the people with compassion and care rather than a politician’s greedy self-interest. That is my condition for my people to join you, for whatever to come out of the Hutt territories after we are finished is lovingly cared for and overseen by Jedi, not corrupt politicians. Do we have an agreement?”

>Yes(Truth)
>Yes(Lie)
>Write-in

>>5943609
>Yes(Truth)
However, I know quite well that Jedi are capable of such self-interest as well. Those who abuse their power will be punished harshly by my own hand.

Would Merek have done this if we had taken one of his gifts? Or were the offered gifts a test of our mettle to see if we were fit to be his host?

>>5943624
>Would Merek have done this if we had taken one of his gifts?
Nah, he was content with staying on Thule morning his kin, but you pissed him off so he's coming along for the ride.

>>5943609
>>Yes(Truth)

>>5943609
>The Jedi are not infallible, corruption in the order is a possibility and our numbers are thousands while the planets would require a governance of millions.
>I can promise that the jedi will care for the new territoroes but we should not become its rulers.

>>5943619
+1

Better to be ruled by an enlightened warrior-priest rather than a self-interested bean-counting demagogue, but corruption will occur in any system.

>>5943815
Well we would need a way to check and balance the power.
Self governance with the Jedi acting as a watchdog organisation?

A galactic council?
But if we founded the coalition on the basis of active good, it will be a prelude to war when the republic continues to be shit. Interventionism abound

>>5943834
>Well we would need a way to check and balance the power. Self governance with the Jedi acting as a watchdog organisation?
Could have an elected body that votes to ratify Jedi proposed policies but not the ability to alter them.

>>5943842
I'm also convinced we would need to restrict access to the policy making board behind some level of meritious service.

Whichever we decide will heavily effect the temperment of the government.
Maybe make acesticm mandatory for the governing body.

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The thin, bony hand of the aged Jedi Master reaches out, waiting for you to verbally agree and take her hand, sealing this oath. You see the sense in her words; you’ve had those thoughts many times, but you’ve always had a nervous hesitancy when lingering on the idea. Would that level of power corrupt the Jedi? It didn’t seem to before, but the pre-Ruusan Reformation records are so old you can’t be sure of their legitimacy. Even if it doesn’t affect others of the Jedi that follow you, what about yourself? You are able to reflect on your flaws, you like taking control of situations and are somewhat prideful; would this level of power affect you? You have to accept this deal; you will have nothing if you refuse her offer. Your own issues can be dealt with, you know where you falter, and you will be on guard for your slips, and who is to say you would even have a problem?

Stretching out your own hand, you grasp her's and feel a strength there that is disguised by her wizened visage, “Yes, we do, but two things. First, I have met Jedi who would abuse that power, too focused on their self-interest gain. Only trusted Jedi should be able to be part of a council or body that decides such important things. And those who would abuse such a role would harm us all, so we must harshly punish those who would break our covenant of care to the citizenry. Secondly, we will need to include elected representatives in some form or another. We need a way for the citizens to engage in constructive politics, even if in a limited form and effect, so they feel like they are part of the system, and it will give them some power. If we ever make great mistakes, they can act as a way to check our power.”

Master Reela smiles and agrees to your conditions, “That is acceptable, as long as Jedi have the final say. But let’s not get too focused on the details of governance when there is nothing to govern. Situations could change heavily. As long as we agree upon this core tenant, we will work out something more solid when we get closer to our goal.”

You share more words with the temple master; most of it is unimportant and social, trying to understand the other's character. Out of it, you did find something informative and helpful; of the forty-nine Jedi that made up this sect before your arrival, only three are Padawans. The rest are Knights, and there are some Masters. This is because the Council on Coruscant sends them no younglings, the temple has to go out and covertly recruit those that would fit in with the tenants of this branch. With this new long-term goal in mind, they will be more proactive in recruitment and the spread of ideas while still keeping their goals undiscovered.

Returning back to your friends who sit in one of the ziggurats, which is your new home. It is a strange thought that this world is now your home, a year ago this would be unthinkable. You sit in a circle and slumber calls you, and your resistance is so incredibly feeble. But there is something you must discuss, and joining in on their conversation is the quickest way to go about it. It isn’t just Jedi that joined you on Lieserl’s cruel surface; your Padawans are there, and Morrigan moves at your arrival, sitting closely next to you. You tell them about the deal you agreed to with Master Reela. All senior Jedi of your cabal, but one, nod with agreement.

Claire looks around sheepishly, not wanting to indicate disagreement, “Are we sure we want to rule? It is a lot of responsibility, and if anything goes wrong, it will be our fault and issue, even if we did everything correctly.”

“It isn’t about if we want to rule; it is what is best for the people. Yes, it will be hard, and we will have to make sacrifices, but we owe the peoples of the galaxy our best. Giving them a new set of corrupt senators and shirking responsibilities is far from our best.” Alyla glares at Claire, her eyes narrowed and her voice unfriendly. Finishing her barbed response, Alyla turns to look at you, and the venomous glare passes, transforming into a carefree smile that has caused many over the years to wilt at her effortless beauty.

“Exactly,” Alyla beams at your affirmation. Changing the subject to a dourer one, you ask, “Do you guys have any ideas what we can do about Merek being stuck in my head? We can’t let him take over my body again.”

Looking around the group, their faces sink with concern and disappointment at their lack of proposed solutions. There is one voice that speaks from a mouth you are unable to see, and the words are only you can hear. “Oh, don’t worry, it takes quite an effort for me to take control, and you weren’t trying to resist me. If I wanted and were able, I would have taken over already; clearly, either I don’t want to steer the show, or I am simply unable to. Think of me as your voice of reason, your conscience. I see you going far kid, and I plan to come along for the ride, but if you really want to get rid of me, you could try carving your face off therefore removing your scars. Or you could come and try to banish me from my resting place on Thule, where most of my soul resides. But if you challenge me there, I promise I will play for keeps.”

No answers come forth; Alyla tells you of teams sent within Lord Merek’s burial tomb; if the number is too large, he simply vanishes into the large stone blocks, hiding from any banishment attempt. If the party is too small, he butchers every member and leaves out ghastly displays of butchered Jedi corpses in frightful poses. Seeing no answers proposed, you decide to leave the gathering, you cannot put off sleep any longer. Morrigan follows you to your room, you think she is checking that you get there safely. You wish her a good night and ruffle her hair before retreating into your new room.

Your eyes open, and you are awake after a long rest; looking at the time, you see it is two in the afternoon, and your body still aches from everything that happened yesterday. Limbs weak, you continue to stare up at the stone ceiling in your rather empty room, gazing into the unblemished white marble. Allowing yourself to stew in your well-deserved lethargy, you think about your wants. What do you want to do outside of rescuing your people? That will be done of course, but you are more than that singular desire. You are not an automaton with a single purpose. What do you want personally? What other goals do you have that you want to fulfil outside of your drive for justice? What do you enjoy?

(Basically, this is your vote to define what Chris enjoys, or dislikes, and his personal goals. Write as much as you want; you don't have to pick only one thing.)
>Write-in

>>5944344
Likes: Practising his forms and studying up new ones. Merek will be our equal or inferior once we are done [reasonable goal: Become a blade master].
Related, exercises of endurance. A good run is relaxing.

Alyla and her presence, evidently. I believe she is something like an Idol that he is never going to shake. She simply made too big an impression.

Claire is growing on us.

We like teaching, causing change, like invention. This is all shit I have gathered from the threads. Now unrelatedly to already established shit.

Likes: flying, watching Pod races [not betting], Mixology, star gazing, exploring new places, very savory/spicy foods.

Dislikes: Thick woodlands, Beer, HUTTS!, the sea/oceans because they suck, anthropology and architectural studies [because buildings are boring, and ancient buildings aren't any more interesting]. Very sweet foods.

Neutral either: meditation and force useage/practice. Can be tedious or interesting, depends.

Personal goals: Convert Morrigan to our viewpoint, Resolve our thoughts on what happened in the forest and. . Try to sort out this animosity between them and Lukes feelings on the matter, Raise Morrigan to a knight, Improve our ship for maximum speed and shields [its gonna be a war ship eventually], actually learn about the jedi culture here and see if any of it is more valid than the corisantii orthadoxy. With enough experiences and study, perhaps we can use it to form our own perfectly functional philosophy of the Jedi order.

This is all my take.

>>5944361
I expected much a shorter reply, thanks for the effort, appreciate it.

>>5944344
I think his other goals should be to better control his rage and pride. We hold other Jedi to a high standard, the same should apply to Chris.

To be a good master to Morrigan.

To eventually defeat Merek and get rid of him.

To see as much of the galaxy as possible. He seems to enjoy the beauty of nature. Maybe he could be more of an outdoorsman.

I think Chris needs a positive mentor even as a Jedi knight. We haven't seen much interaction between turok and him and the relationship is weaker than it could be due to difference in ideals.

+1 to both of the above; also, he desires to convince GM Turok to take action himself one day, and to keep a schism from happening if possible, limiting the chances of a dark side order forming.

>>5944344
>likes
Stargazing, Fishing, Exotic Foods, Mixology
>dislikes
Swamps, Hutts, aristocracy, deathsticks, politicians, his toilet being clogged.

>personal goals
Raise Morrigan to her fullest potential, and see her get a padawan of her own.
Kill Merek.
Restore the galaxy from millennia of corruption.
Dismantle the Hutt empire.
Make a legendary cookbook.

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Time has passed, and you have thought about things, a lot of things. One thing you do enjoy is the thought of removing Merek from your skull, defeating him in a way no one else has managed before. But that leads to thoughts about the flaws in your character; you know you have an ego and a temper; it is something you really must work on, especially now you’ve got Morrigan. You can’t have her picking up your bad habits, and considering how similar you two are, there is a real danger in that. Besides that, you should enjoy your travels around the galaxy while you are focused on your plans; having fun and exploring is important for the soul. Your cause will take years to enact, so you do not need to rush things.

With reluctance, you roll off your bed, wash yourself and get dressed. The room is empty other than the bed, allowing you to decorate it in the manner you desire. It is a pleasant room, but it doesn’t feel like home. Would it be odd or weird if you slept in your ship? Likely, but it is more spacious, and the entire ship is set out with all the amenities you want. Maybe a night here and there you can spend in your ship, but others will be curious and possibly offended if you live out of it. You will have to do your best to make this room your home.

The ache in your body is still there, a remnant of your near-death experience. Stiffly walking on jellied legs, you leave your room and the ziggurat into the courtyard that connects all three temples. You breathe in the fresh air; for all that this planet does wrong, namely the savages below the trees, the taste of the air is spectacularly fresh. There is a slight chill in the wind, but not uncomfortable, its caress wakes you up and banishes the warmth that tries to drag you back to sleep. As usual, you see the arena pit surrounded by Jedi studying the two Knights duking it out. You do like their love of martial combat; it is something you share and will be very useful in the future.

As you survey the two Jedi duelling, a figure taps you on your shoulder from behind; turning around, you see the once-dour Jedi. He looks much healthier; his eyes no longer carry dark, heavy bags, and his hair is no longer a messy explosion. “Chris, thank you so much for saving my wife. I owe you so much.”

The Jedi embraces you in a strong hug that you decide not to break. A chuckle spills from your mouth, and you give him a hearty pat on his back. “You owe me nothing. We had a deal, and now we are square. Plus, we are brothers now; we owe each other nothing but our fellowship.”

“You are right; he owes you nothing. It was me. I saved his wife, and more importantly you.” Scion scoffs haughtily.

His strong embrace breaks as he withdraws from you, showing appreciation and joy on his face. “Sure, I understand what you are saying, but you’ve done so much for Arine that I can’t help but feel indebted to you. If you ever need a favour, no matter what, you just need to ask.”

Sheepishly, you grin, not sure the best way to ask his name, so you simply ask directly. “Sorry, this is going to sound really stupid, but I don’t think I ever caught your name in all the excitement.”

“Ha, really? The name is Cainard. I guess you’ve called in that favour, debt repaid.” Cainard jokes, he spends a while talking to you about his wife. Arine should be released by the medical ward within a week. After a while, he bids you farewell and almost skips off, no doubt to his Twi’lek wife.

You look into the sky, enjoying the gentleness of the light blue, and consider what to do next…
>Write-in (Anything you want to do before ending the thread?)
>See Morrigan (End thread)

>>5945280
We should probably talk to Claire about the kiss

>>5945280
>>See Morrigan (End thread)

>>5945280
>Go see claire. To rebuke or to thank, we dunno yet.

>>5945538
+1

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You want to talk to Morrigan; she has heard a lot that has confused her since your arrived on Lieserl. You owe her an explanation, and you need to sway her to your ways of thinking. It could be a challenging task; she has a stern determination, which could bar her mind from being receptive to your words. You will have to approach her only after you craft the correct arguments that you are sure will win her over. As you stand still, watching the Jedi mill around the temple and ponder those coming words, you decide to leave it for later; the answers aren’t coming to you now, so you take your mind off the matter for a while and come back refreshed.

As you contemplate productive ways to spend your time, a memory flashes in your mind. It is of Claire, her arms around your neck and her lips on yours. Subconsciously, you bring a hand to your chin and gently brush your lips with your thumb, as if attempting to simulate the kiss. You chortle as you realise the action your body mindlessly performed, but it isn’t the only thing your self-deprecating chuckle is aimed at. It is also in reaction to the thought that you received your first kiss at twenty-two years old. It is something that most beings have had in their teens, you have missed this opportunity until now due to your adherence to the Jedi Order’s doctrine of celibacy.

Compared to people like Luke, who ignore the Council’s decree, you have always felt insecure and embarrassed. It makes you feel lesser and small, so you wrap it up in either jokes with a jovial mask, or a level of disinterested disdain. Your earlier thoughts on your foibles push you to act. You want to get this situation with Claire sorted and talked through, to what outcome you have yet to decide.

Walking through the temples, you walk around in an attempt to find Claire. You, of course, could call her with your communicator and ask for her location. But it feels wrong, like it implies something very serious, and you would prefer to approach this from a laidback and chilled mindset rather than build it into something big. As time passes and you struggle to bump into Claire casually, your mind begins to form thoughts that attack your confidence and increase your already peeking nervousness. After what feels like hours, and is likely less than half of one, you spot the figure of a female Ramdar, Claire.

Claire is engrossed in the pastry she is nibbling on, which she holds in her hand; the other is carrying a bag of what you believe to be more of them. She has spent the morning outside the temple region at the city-proper. Her carefully styled swept bangs partially obscure her face with a curtain of white gold, and Claire’s long braid hangs past her hips. Claire’s pretty face is nestled within the sea of gold; there is no doubt she puts a lot of effort into her appearance and is greatly rewarded for it. The one thing she could improve is her clothes, Claire wears baggy robes in an attempt to hide her statuesque form, but her chest defies the cloth, its size is still apparent under the heavy layers.

“Hey Claire,” You greet her with a wave as you sidle up next to her, trying to sound carefree and relaxed. Looking up, Claire spots you, and her pale cheeks begin to flush red; yours grow the same shade as you remember the shared act that has made her flustered. “What have you been up to?”

“I went into the city and explored a bit and did a little shopping. I did get everybody some local sweets.” Claire gazes up at you with a giant smile and joy in her voice; all the while, her cheeks remain scarlet. “Give it a go; you can have a bite.”

Claire almost forces the iced pastry she was nibbling on into your face; taking a bite, you decide her trip into town was well worth it, and you take another. With that, she withdraws her hand, shooting you a fake, playful pout, looking utterly adorable. “I only said a bite.”

As you walk together, you ask her about her day in the city as well as other small talk, until you question, “Hey Claire, can we talk about something in private?”

She agrees with a demure nod of her head and follows you through one of the ziggurats to the rear face of the building. During the journey, nothing is said, and the pair of you stew in awkwardness. The back of the temple is a secluded place; there is nothing here apart from the wonderous view of the magnificent trees below. Sitting down on one of the large steps, Claire joins you, her leg brushes against yours. She doesn’t look at you, only out into the world underneath; her cheeks have taken on an even darker blush as she avoids eye contact.

“So… about our… kiss.” You say without following it up, you have no idea how to continue or even what you want to do about it.

“I’m very sorry,” Claire hurriedly mumbles, still inspecting the trees that have stood sentinel for thousands of years. “I’ve… I got overwhelmed. I thought you were dead, and I was so happy, so relieved you were safe. So, I just… kissed you.”

Her last words were a whisper, barely slipping out of her lips, which she had coloured the same mesmerising red as her stunning eyes. You watched those lips, reliving the moment when they met yours and shared something very special; a part of you desired nothing more than to reenact the moment, to feel the unique sensation once again. “You don’t need to be sorry at all. It was good. I-I liked it. I just…”

The following words do not come to your brain as a pregnant pause builds. Breaking the silence, Claire timidly continues, “I guess we aren’t in trouble about it, at least. Here, we can date, marry and have kids. I would like to do all these things at some point.” Claire speaks witfully until her eyes bulge at what she just said; she hastily spits out, “Ugh, I mean we, as in we Jedi, not you and me. But, no, I mean, um.”

You give a light laugh at her verbal stumble, and some of the tension deflates; Claire buries her head into your shoulder, hiding in embarrassment. Wrapping your arm around her waist, you give Claire a gentle squeeze of support. You can smell her familiar perfume that you have grown to love the flowery scent due to its association with Claire. Finally, she withdraws her head, returning her view to the verdant vegetation. “A part of me worries about a future where everyone has so much experience, while I don’t know the slightest thing. How to do things which everyone else thinks are easy and common. If I will be good enough or rejected for my lack of knowledge.”

She is being honest, or honest enough, and you owe her some honesty in return, “Yeah, I feel the same; it feels like we’ve been robbed of the chance to experience this at the same time as everyone else, that we have been left behind.”

“If you wanted… We could practise. Making up for lost time, so when we find a person we like, we aren’t embarrassingly inexperienced. I mean, we are on this quest, so we both know how to keep a secret. And it is not like it is wrong here; we would just be two friends helping each other out.” Finally, Claire looks up at you with her captivating ruby eyes, her cheeks glow with a strength that would put a star to shame. “Sorry, it was really stupid of me for suggesting that. Anyway, I’ve not really given a chance for you to speak; what are you thinking?”

You...
>Write-in(What do you say/feel/do?)

>>5946179
I think that the Jedi Order's views on love, the views that you and I have held on to, are out of date. Repressing our feelings that we both feel for each other stifles the growth and happiness and support we could share together. I'm sorry that our first kiss had to happen in that way. I think it warrants a do-over. The truth is I've wanted to do this for a while. Kiss the girl.

>>5946179
Really torn on this one, not sure how to vote. Some anon want to make an argument one way or another, pros and cons of Claire vs Alyla, etc.?

Actually, now that I've thought a bit more, we should reaffirm that there was nothing wrong with what happened, but that we need to deal with Merek being in our head before we can trust ourselves to pursue romance. I would hate for us to have a blackout moment & wake up to disaster.

>>5946228
Merek only took over because Chris didn't resist. Now that we're aware of him I wouldn't worry. Maybe through meditation we can further lock down our mind. If having Merek keeps us from something like this then it should also keep us from this whole schism. Or being around other Jedi. What we do romantically is trivial to Merek anyway.

>>5946226
My reasoning for Claire is that she is deep down a gentle soul. Chris needs someone like that to temper his growing tendency toward violence. It's all about balance. Alyla is aggressive and may have more in common with Chris due to that but to me they would feed off of each other and spiral out of control. Although to be fair we haven't really been exposed to Alyla enough in the quest for me to say for sure. In the end it's down to preference.

>>5946179
>Say: "so what's this one going to he called? Crossed the Mingle Bridge to the date practicing hall?"

>Think: this is gonna cause issues with Claire and luke.

>Feel: That the softness of Claire is precious and a strong inclination to protect it. As we did in the forest

>>5946226
Alyla: more of an equal and will enjoy being through the thick of things with Chris. Alyla has a lot of similar interests. She is daring and loud.
Claire: more of a supporter, would rather avoid a fight. Claire's interests are much more relaxed than Chris' or Alyla's. She is shy and quiet.
It is kind of tomboy vs nerd.

>>5946508
I've also noticed he has a thing for red eyes and red lips.

But I think the idea for "tempering his excesses" is a fair argument for claire

No update today, watching the fight and catching up on sleep.

Ok, so you are kissing her. Quick question, what do you want your realtionship to be like dating or practise dating or it is a one off thing etc, and are you keeping it secret or doing it openly?

>>5947355
Secret dating works for me. For now at least

>>5947355
I'm not going half measures.

>Openly Dating.

Everything has to come out in the end. Such is life. Best not to taint the reveal

>>5947461
You're probably right.

>>5947471
Honwst and painful truths earn us a reputation for them.

And the reputation is useful regardless.

>>5946228
Just to emphasize, my vote here was:
>Express shared feelings, but cite that the risks involved are too great for a relationship while our mind is not entirely our own

>>5947534
By this logic it's way worse to assemble a bunch of disillusioned Jedi under our banner and we're doing that despite the risk of Merek taking over.

>>5947534
I don't want to agree with >>5947553 but he's right. If we think this, then it is better to step aside and allow an uncompromised agent to lead the cause.

But we won't do that.

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“What am I thinking?” You question yourself, looking down into Claire's hopeful, longing face, and your brain swirls, trying to formulate what you think, what you want. “I think there’s nothing more I want than this.”

Your hand gently reaches to Claire’s face, cupping her cheek, out fear that the slightest strength could shatter the image before you. Craning your head closer, you feel no resistance or hesitation. Claire is clay in your hands, mouldable and utterly submissive to your touch. Prisoner of the moment, she doesn’t move an inch; the only exception is when you guide her closer to your lips. You tenderly kiss Claire for the second time, your lips brushing against hers, pausing as they meet. Once again, you feel your body tingle with the most wonderful electricity as you enjoy this ever-so-private moment between the two of you. Then you ever so slightly withdraw, your short, gentle kiss filled with emotion and rawness breaks.

“I’m sorry our first kiss happened in such a way. I feel I owed you a do-over,” you tell Claire with a slightly awkward smile as you chart this new, unexplored experience.

Claire’s arms wrap around you, trapping you in her embrace. She does not allow you to retreat, not that you ever would. She speaks in the slightest whisper that you can feel against your lips, “I think you owe me a lot more than one do-over.”

Her words spur you on, your lips meet again. She glows in the Force, eclipsing any star with her brilliant radiance; her wild joy radiates from her being, unveiled and uncontrolled. Claire’s unfiltered emotions flow into you as your lips stay connected. You feel her happiness, her excited heart beating a million miles an hour, her deep, unrequited love finally being fulfilled and the growing fire of her arousal. The kiss grows with intensity; you are spurred on by the passion Claire feels, which in turn becomes your own.

Eventually, finally, your lips part, much to Claire’s disappointment; her grip on you becomes iron and unbreakable, not allowing you to leave her. “I will tell you when you’re done making it up to me.”

The pair of you explore this new ecstasy, kissing and kissing again, discovering and learning what feels right and what the other enjoys. Claire kisses you deeply and then suddenly stops, driving you to grip her with a firmness that pulls her tightly into you, hungrily taking what she abruptly pulled away. She does this again and again, spurring you on and melting into you when you make her your happy prisoner. This repeats until you’ve got her small body pinned on the hard marble step, arousal blocking Claire’s discomfort. The bag of now crushed pastries long forgotten goes unnoticed, trapped under her. One of your hands has its fingers intertwined with Claire’s, while the other gropes at her body, rewarding you with soft moans of encouragement, begging you to continue as she presses her body into yours.

Finally, you stop, eliciting a groan of disappointment from Claire, she bites your bottom lip as a last-ditch attempt, trying to trap you and halt your escape. You give Claire one final kiss as a reward and escape her grip. She looks up at you, still wanting, her hair a mess and her cheeks the brightest shade of red you have ever seen before. Claire gulps deep breaths, and you can’t help but watch her chest rise and fall, desiring to embrace her again and discovering what she looks like under her robes.

Still in the shade of the temple, you sit together, Claire within your arms, sitting on your lap. With a single finger, Claire traces a spiral on your hand, “I’ve dreamt of this for so long.”

You go to kiss her cheek, but Claire intercepts it with her lips. “Same, the truth is I’ve wanted this for a while. So, what's this one be called? Crossed the Mingle Bridge to the Girlfriend Hall?”

She kisses you with a gentle slap on your leg as you feel her pout. “If you keep making fun of me, maybe you’ll be in the lonesome desert. So, I’m your girlfriend now?”

“I would like you to be.” You reply awkwardly, this situation is utterly new to you.

Claire wiggles in her seat, your lap, feeling your excitement, and hums as if pondering the proposition. “Of course, you idiot, I mean, I’ve had the biggest crush on you for years.”

“I don’t really understand that, why? I’m not that special.” You ask as Claire searches for another kiss which you happily return.

“You’ve always been so confident, so cool. Your drive and empathy. You know I’m shy, and I look at you, and it is like, wow. You are like what I imagine being in my daydreams.” Happy with the words, you give a few more kisses, which she happily receives. “Are we telling people?”

“We should. Might be awkward and a little bit painful, but we shouldn’t lie and trick our friends.” The figure of Luke flashes into your mind. He has had a crush on Claire since he met her as a kid, but you aren’t letting her out of your grip; she is yours now. And you are proud of that; someone so kind, so gentle and beautiful wants you. The Force is truly with you.

The sun begins to set, leaving the sky a majestic orange as you pass the day, talking in your secluded spot. You share some things that you’ve not dared to say to others and discover more about the person Claire is. Eventually, you call it a day, and you split up. As Claire leaves, you can’t help but watch her, wanting to return to your secret area, as well as enjoying the sight of her shapely figure. At some point, you’ll tell the others, but the day is late, and there’s something important you need to do first. And you wouldn’t mind leaving the conversation with Luke another day, even another month, maybe it would be best if you had Scion share the news.

Finding Morrigan alone in her room, she lights up at your arrival and stands to attention, making the best impression of a well-regimented Kuat marine. The posture is at odds with the flowery sleepwear she is dressed in. Stifling a chuckle, you sit down on her bed and ask her to join you. Morrigan gazes at you, inquisitively waiting for something of great importance. You like her keenness, but it would be nice if she would be more human with you, she doesn’t need to impress you.

“So, you’ve heard a lot of things you’ve not understood since we’ve been here, and I think it is time we cleared the air.” You speak to your Padawan, whose face twists with confusion and nods.

“What are we doing here? I don’t understand.”

“I am tired of the Jedi Council. I feel they’ve made many bad decisions over the years leading to a lot of suffering, and I am looking for Jedi who agree with me.” You state, noticing the “we” she spoke instead of a “you”.

“What about? Why do you know better than the Masters?” She asks inquisitively, not challenging, and trying to understand you.

“I was on Ravaath when ten million people died in a blink of an eye. You know what the Council and the Senate decided to do? Nothing. The Hutts and the Singularity kill our people with no recourse except strong words from some.”

“What else could we do? Start a war? What if our actions make everything worse?” Morrigan questions you.

“Maybe, I hope not, but generations of suffering will continue if we don’t stop them. My people are a slave race, and the Council has given up on them because it would require work and temporary pain. I don’t think we should give up on them or the thousands of species native to the Hutts’ empire. Why should we focus on just the small issues in the Republic when they are symptoms of a greater evil? Yes, we will make mistakes, but think back to when you were an Initiate. When the others bullied you, wouldn’t you have preferred the Masters to do something? At least tried. Instead, they ignored the issue and hoped it would fix itself, it didn’t, sometimes people need help.”

Morrigan stays silent as she considers your words, her electric blue brows furrowed. She gives a few nods after a while. “We will be helping those that the Jedi Council ignores out of convenience? I understand. It is our role after all. We look after all those in the galaxy who need our guidance. Our morals and mission shouldn’t end at a border.”

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Thats the end of the thread. This is the longest word count I've done for a thread, near 30k words.

This thread did not go at all as I expected, I thought you'd stay on Coruscant and thought you wouldn't acquire an apprentice. Didn't think you'd make Claire your girlfriend either.

Next thread maybe next month, idk.

Feel free to ask any questions.

>>5947856
That's the beauty of questing. Thanks for running!

>>5947858
Thanks for playing, all you guys are much appreciated.

>>5947856
Thsnkd for running.

Also. Heh. In the last threads you questioned our restraint, but we were a padawan and figuring shit out.

The padawan is surely unsurprising. We are trying to build a movement, how can we not have a padawan?
She is a bright young mind to train and a key to becoming a jedi master. . With all the authority and privilege that entails.

>>5947856
Thanks for running! A unique spin on star wart as always, which is a breath of fresh air. Looking forward to thwarting Hutts, Singularity, & the Shadow People (they're in your walls)

Oh fun fact, Claire was orignally going to be Chris's sister. It was kinda inspired by Luke/Leia but now she's Chris' gf I guess I got to scrap that
>>5947963
>The padawan is surely unsurprising.
I thought you would want to go high speed, low drag. Having a Padawan is going to make some things harder.
>>5947986
>A unique spin on star wart as always
Yeah, I'm not a big fan of telling a story during an existing time peroid, feels cheap and too fanfictiony for me personally.

>>5948128
So you mean. . . Exactly like luke and leia?
Old interviews are wild man.

But eh, win some lose some. Would have saved head and heart ache down the line, might even achieved the idea of "balancing tempers" anyway. But heyo, such is life.

And as for drag, that's okay. Some things are worth picking up

>>5948207
>Old interviews are wild man.
Can't say I've seen them, but the idea was that Alyla and her master rescued you and a few other Ramdar. The council then would have taken you and Claire wiped your memories of each other and trained you up. I would have kept it up if you only had a kiss but clearly you are going further, so I've scrapped that as it would come off as very weird and fetishy. I did toy with the idea of keeping it in but decided against it. A possible thought was later down the road if you get married and stuff a council memeber tells you and you've then got to choose to ignore and bury it, staying with the wife you love or leaving her out of disgust.

>>5948371
Actor interviews for ep 4. Hamill went full on with the question "who'd you think Leia is gonna end up with", pointing out luke's good points and the parts where she clashed with Han. Hindsight makes it funny, and it's just proof that Lucas is the greatest bullshit artist in the industry that anyone believes it was all planned out

Yeah, better to drop the element wholesale. Could have been reintroduced later if we'd fucked up and realised it wouldn't work out, but this point it's better for it to stay dead. comes across as retconny to retcon a retcon