Star Wars CLOSED A Star Wars Story: Between Epitaphs

IC: Darkness
Clock-Temple, Nouane, just after the lesson

"You are hard to understand, yet are simple." he growled out as he closed his eyes at the last. His fingers spread and in that instance he pushed. The ring floated infront of the finger for a moment before it shot forward, seeking the pointing darkness. Accelerated to go fast, to go hard upon it. He did not care if it tore into the hand or whatever it was seeking to sit upon, only that it would it. Would find purchase. The world faded as only the Force became the color and the truth of his reality, his way to see where to push and where to find purchase.

The Darkness curved around the ring, not wanting to touch it, and then, held it in a bubble of the Force above a writhing hand.

"What a curious item. How could the Master have expected my interference...?"

But then Dunkeel shifted, and it refocused, casting the ring aside.

"Take your questions, your answers, and go. For I do not seek petrified balance, nor I do seek your chaos. I seek the path. I am one with the Force, the Force is with me. Your illusions, delusions, are not." Dunkeel stood there, unignited saber in one hand, empty hand with a claw pointing at the darkness, eyes closed, nostrils flared, hissing a steady stream of awareness as the Force was everything.

A sniff.

"Fine. I shall go, and reap my destruction, and you, Protector, will answer for it."

With that, the shadow dispersed, and was gone.

Gone.

Silence prevailed, and the ring merely settled on the floor of the room, glinting slightly, turning of its own volition, this way, and then that, before it stilled.

That was that. But what was that?

There was not much else but a nagging feeling upon the Chistori. A sensation that he had, perhaps, forgotten something. But, at the same time, he had his jobs to get to, also, and this little creature had distracted him from meditating on the murder... but had also claimed responsibility for it.

The Force was silent on the point.

For now.

Dunkeel had the initiative for a moment, and it would be his decision what to do.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto
---
IC: White Eyes
Pesegam, or, Korriban, or Moraband... depending on the when, who, and how...

"I am prepared to do what I must… though I would prefer not to fight unnecessarily."

The words echoed back at him, rebounding from the walls. The thirty cloaked men and women snorted slightly.

White Eyes allowed a grin to roll into the Force.

We are not truly here, as you can tell. The Force is a paradox, at this point.

White Eyes' voice grew introspective, but the dark side of his existence reverberated into Zas'tel.

It was a chance encounter in my youth, and I never knew who the Master was... back when I still had my red hair. I gather that you don't, either, serving a Master with a plan that is barely decipherable, but couched to achieve some mythical goal. You enable that, and seek to discover how to surpass death, much as I did after I met him...

The others rustled, and one, a woman rasped.

We don't have time for this; the moment will pass.

Of course. A gesture, and the area illuminated, revealing a pedestal and a Holocron standing upon it.

What would become known as the Dark Holocron.

The first Holocron. Within it is seventy five thousand years of Sith history. The species, the Daritha's, the wars against the Celestials. It was this Holocron that your Master discovered, and brought here, revealing, he said, that the eldritch Old Ones were not yet fully defeated, merely waiting for their chance to breach the walls and end time itself. If one escaped, it would be the Apocalypse itself... but if they all did?

It will not yield its secrets to a man in a cloak... it is said that after he dived into the depths of the Dark Holocron, the Master donned his black-cloak, designed to hide him from the dark side, and never removed it again.

In my time it is missing. My quest for immortality thwarted by the Jedi. But you... you have it here, and now...

Are you ready to make that sacrifice for your absent Master?

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422

TAG: @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @QueenSabe7, @HanSolo29 (combo's to finish off, and then the game will move on to bring you to the same point; a week after the Masters passing)

 

The following is a combo post with Sinrebirth – thank you so much!

IC: Dr. Joren and Tera Graal
Graal Household, Capital City, Nouane

The familiar sights and sounds of their quaint, little home immediately tempered Joren’s insecurities and helped him settle into a more relaxed state of mind. Even as he crossed the threshold and entered the parlor, he could see the large bay window that afforded a picturesque view of the riverfront district beyond – a striking reminder of the beauty and tranquility he shared here with his wife. It was in stark contrast to the negative energy that defined his existence with the other Protectors at the Clock Tower. In this setting, at least he could forget and live a normal life.

If only for a little while.

Inhaling deeply, Joren paused and took a moment to savor the pleasant aromas wafting in from the kitchen. Judging by the mixture of herbs and seasonings that tingled his nose with each breath, he had to guess that Tera had prepared her famed nerf chowder and biscuits for dinner. A crooked smile spread over his features at that thought. She certainly knew how to give him a warm welcome.

Dumping his travel duffel on the table beside the door, Joren followed the delightful scent to the lounge, where he found Tera lumbering under the weight of her bulging belly. She was in high spirits, and they often made light of her delicate condition, but now the Force beamed in a very different way. It was of love and affection.

As he approached, Tera leaned back from placing the silverware and quickly slipped into their usual rapport. "So how did it go today, Master Graal?" she asked with a curious glint in her chestnut eyes.

Despite her lighthearted tone, a shadow crossed over Joren’s countenance and he inwardly winced. It reminded him of his disastrous first meeting with the others – of Vale’s petulance, the dire conversation with Vydra, Dunkeel’s advice, and the Master’s profound influence still lingering over everything they were trying to establish. He would have preferred a reprieve from the prophetic talk of a bleak future, but Tera had brought all of that rising back to the surface by asking one very simple question.

Offering his wife a small scoff, the doctor gripped the back of his chair and shrugged stiffly. “Like any other first day at a new job,” he began carefully, his brow furrowing slightly. “Exhausting and long. We have some growing pains to work through, but I suppose that’s normal when you’re trying to coordinate with four distinct personalities. Everyone has their own unique ideas on how to proceed. It’ll take time before we can make progress.”

There was obviously more to the story, but he trailed off and quickly changed the subject. "How about you?" Joren continued as he inclined his chin to regard her. "How are you holding up?"

"I ate my weight in bananas," Tera said, nonplussed. She had exaggerated but the woman had eaten a lot of bananas during the pregnancy. "The baby has been very active today - wants out."

She huffed a little and she sat up slightly more to give him a kiss. Gently Tera turning the topic back where she had asked, she spoke softly. "Managing a group is something that you are used to, usually. Projects, and all that." She wondered aloud. "If you are having this much stress over it, there is more going on you're letting on. Interpersonal drama you can usually handle."

Tera took a bit of a breath. "You can't afford to be distracted when the baby is here, Joren. I don't want to be difficult but you're juggling too much again - I don't want you to not be around..." Clearly, she'd been thinking about it. "... but I also want to help. You're not alone - did you want me to invite Zinara and Vale over...?"

A thin smile crossed his lips as he leaned down to reciprocate her kiss, almost as a means to silence her concerns. She was right, of course; Tera always had a keen eye for seeing through his tough exterior to decipher his innermost thoughts. And in this case, she had called him out on his bluff.

That’s probably why she had suggested, or perhaps teased the idea of Vale and her wife joining them for dinner, Joren realized with some disdain. He inwardly bristled at the notion of having that petulant woman inside his home, though the only outward sign of his displeasure came in the form of a small snort. A part of him was curious to see whether Tera would catch on again.

“Uh, no, that won’t be necessary,” Joren replied evenly, his hands wandering down to her waist to frame her enlarged stomach. “I was actually hoping for a nice, quiet evening where we could relax. We don’t need company.”

Joren stepped forward to give her another kiss, this time on the forehead. “And you don’t need the stress,” he scolded her lightly. “You’re more susceptible to that than I am, especially in your condition. It’s not healthy for you or the baby to worry about things at work. I’ll manage like I always do, and when the time comes, I’ll be here. I promise.”

He paused for a moment to purse his lips. “No distractions.”

She allowed him to kiss her, and then, in true Tera fashion, smiled sweetly. "So it is Vale who is causing you all these restless nights." It was a double entendre, but she was trying to get a smile out of him. Joren was always too serious.

But before he could reply she stood and placed a finger on his lips. "Nope. No qualifications; the nursery is ready, the rooms are settled, I have every supply imaginable." Clearly she had moved on to the idea of transporting themselves to the Clock-Tower, but it was a temporary thought. "If we are not moving immediately, I'd rather not have that stress on me. But it would be nice to see someone other than you or the mail-lady..."

It was more teasing, but there it was. They had a matter of weeks until the baby was born, but to be isolated day in and day out was inevitably going to drive her mad. "Oh, he kicked." She quickly grabbed his hand and pressed it to her belly to join the sensation.

Any negative thoughts Joren had over his wife’s assertion that Vale had been responsible for his anxiety instantly vanished when she pulled his hand to her stomach. He could feel the subtle vibrations beneath his palm, and he instinctively reached out with the Force to touch the child within. This elicited another series of kicks that brought a wide grin to Joren’s lips.

“He?” he repeated with an incredulous scoff, his expression reflecting his surprise and joy. It was such an intimate moment, and he cherished this, especially in the face of so much adversity. “Are you sure? Not that I don’t trust you, but…”

Joren trailed off before he could condemn himself with his bumbling ways. Instead, he rocked back on his heels and took this time to simply study her, admiring her delicate features and allowing himself to relish in how alive she made him feel. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and it ultimately made him wonder about his path and what his purpose was with the Protectors. Was he making the right choice? Had he become too consumed by his own insecurities and selfish desires?

"It's a guess, sweetie, nothing more," Tera said, teasingly. Joren was processing something though, and she let him for that moment. He seemed to be experiencing some kind of revelation.

What if the answers to everything were right here?

The holocron, the Master, the World Between Worlds, the end of time…

“You know, I was thinking,” Joren muttered in a husky tone, the words spilling from his mouth before he could stop to realize what he was saying. “What if we postpone the move? You have everything in order here, plus you admitted that it’s too stressful. Maybe we should wait until after our little guy is born.”

Tera perked up. "I mean, it would make things easier. But," she said, mock-seriously. "You'd have to be here more. The next 'official' meeting with the others isn't until next week, right? We need to make a plan for after that."

“I’m sure we’ll have some options,” Joren surmised with a small shrug. A brief shadow seemed to pass over his features when she reminded him about the meeting, though he quickly brushed that aside. “But honestly, I’m not too concerned about that right now. All that matters is that I’ll be here with you. If it becomes a greater issue, I’m sure the others will find a way to fill the void, although I sometimes wonder if they’re better off without a leader. Certain individuals seem to think so, anyway.”

Again, Vale’s insolent attitude came rushing up to the surface and made him anxious.

Biting his lower lip, Joren leaned close and nestled against her neck, making a conscious effort to thrust those negative thoughts from his mind; he wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible without any distractions. “I know the Master gave me this responsibility, but--I don’t know. I’m a kriffin’ HoloNet personality and a part-time professor. I’m not exactly the most qualified.”

He scoffed and angled his chin down to plant a trail of kisses along her jawline. “I just need some time away from there – to think and rejuvenate myself.”

"Wellllll," Tera said, almost leadingly. "We do have a baby due, and it's not as if it would be an excuse to take some time to yourself during that... especially if you need to rest now..." She shrugged. "We won't be getting much sleep when he is here, after all," Tera added, again referring to the child as male without any knowledge whatsoever save for mother's instinct.

"There is never going to be the perfect time for you to gracefully disengage, honey. Why not just take advantage of the fact that you have a completely valid reason to detach?" Tera opined, before rushing to add. "You have nearly a week until the next meeting after all, so you don't need to agree with me now."

It would be great to reconnect with her partner before they had absolutely no time to themselves, after all.

Joren exhaled deeply through his nose and allowed himself a thin smile. He knew there was no need to mull over his options; this decision felt so right to him. In fact, he sensed it reverberating through the Force, subtly nudging at the edge of his awareness to make it official. “I don’t need the full week,” he stated firmly, lowering his head slightly to stare into her chestnut eyes. “I already know I want to do this. That’s not the issue.”

He rocked back on his heels and pursed his lips in thought. “But I should still have a plan,” he surmised after a moment. Despite his desire to simply allow the Protectors to sort out their own mess in his absence, he knew that would never work. It would only divide them further and make him look weak. He couldn’t afford that at this crucial juncture.

No, he needed something more concrete. And if he was completely honest, the solution itself was fairly simple.

“I’ll announce it formally at the next meeting, but as far as I’m concerned, our time starts now.” His eyes drifted from her face, now losing himself to his own inner musings. “I'm just not sure if it’s necessary to leave one of the others in charge. Maybe all I need is someone to act as my eyes and ears while I’m gone. I could even use it as a teaching tool.”

Narrowing his eyes, Joren finally returned his gaze to his wife. “What do you think of Vydra? Do you remember him?”

Tera thought about it, but she didn't have to think for long. "I don't entirely remember him, but I'm sure I've met him. Baby brain, sorry," she said, smiling slightly.

"Maybe you should let them decide who is in-charge while you're away. If you appoint someone, you may just drive a wedge between them and Vale..." Tera smiled more. "Unless you make her the leader."

"But I do want you to keep in touch. It's paternity - you're not gone, after all." She shrugged slightly. "I'm sure you have some papers to brush up on after all."

“There will always be a backlog. It’s the nature of the position,” Joren remarked in a subdued tone. The grin was still evident on his features, though it failed to reach his eyes. It was one indication that Tera’s suggestion had rankled him – perhaps more than he cared to admit. And once again, it was all over Vale and the idea of granting her any kind of allowance. Like an insatiable hunger, she continued to pervade his thoughts, enticing him to behave in a certain manner and influencing his every decision. It was all reactionary, not proactive.

And he hated it. This was not who he was at all. He hated that she could get under his skin in this way. It was as if he couldn’t get enough...

Clamping down on that thought, Joren tried to thrust it from his mind as he tightened their embrace. “Although, I do get what you’re saying,” he relented quietly, his blue eyes shifting to focus on her face once more. “It could be an opportunity for them to find their way, but…” He trailed off, his forehead creasing slightly. “I can’t willingly appoint Vale as interim leader. You don’t...understand. It just doesn’t feel right. If she takes control of her own accord, that’s another matter entirely, but that’s a choice she will have to make.

“I will say this, though,” he raised a brow and flashed a mischievous smirk. “It will be one hell of an experiment. She wasn’t shy about expressing her views to maintain a unified system; she was against the idea of having one, singular leader. If she pursues this, it will reveal so much about her as a person. I’m almost tempted to do it just to see how it will unfold…”

The doctor canted his head to the side and shrugged, clearly emphasizing his playful mood. “But I'm not that cruel. I think I’ll take your advice and let things play out naturally instead – give them some room to breathe and then consult with Vydra to stay in the loop.” His smile widened as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “Does that sound like a fair plan?”

She kissed him back, fully, grinning. “Was that kiss part of your master plan?”

“If it’ll help persuade you to my side,” he murmured in an alluring tone, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “then sure, consider it a package deal.”

Contended, she nodded. “Leaving it open-ended will make it better for them - if it goes wrong, you can just step back in... and the perception that you’re being a controlling so and so will be gone if they need help.”

“Who knows?” Tera smiled. “Perhaps some space is what you need from it all. Space is perspective after all.”

Joren gave a derisive snort and shook his head, an impish smirk turning up one corner of his mouth as he started to fully relax into himself. “I know it’s what I need, sweetheart,” he corrected in that same roguish voice. “It’s what I’m aiming for…” He trailed off and leaned back a moment to regard her, knowing she would likely catch on to his deliberate omission. But in this case, it was all part of his friendly banter. “Well, and to spend time with you, of course…”

Issuing a soft sigh, Joren grew serious once more as he moved in to rest his chin against her head. “I do appreciate the help, though,” he conveyed quietly, making a point to express how thankful he was for this strong, remarkable woman in his arms. “Anything to sway their perception and bring things into a better light. I can’t lose them before I even have a chance to begin. And at this point, we must learn to work together. Too much is at stake. This will go a long way in terms of making things right.”

Pulling back slightly, he sought her lips one last time and ushered her away with a passionate kiss. “Thank you.”

TAG: @Sinrebirth (@QueenSabe7; @Jerjerrod-Lennox – for mention)

 

IC: Tho Yor Sphere
Above the City of Nouane, just after the First Protector Master Conclave

The semi-sentient droid ship levitated itself above the City, leading Dunkeel up into the cloud cover. His messages were conveyed, though Dr Joren Graal would only just see the message from the Chistori, cryptic as it was.

The center of the Tho Sphere was fairly spacious, and for a moment the Chistori would have a double-vision, caused by the Force, of a different kind of sphere; one made with similarly technology, and he would know it was called Ship, a throne replacing his pilots chair and then vanishing again. Whatever moment he had leaned into passed, and the ship was merely scanning the City as requested.

There was, for a long, long, moment, silence, and it left Dunkeel to himself, the mind of the Tho Yor also absently humming to itself.

We have a communication.



"This is A'nang, seeking the Master of Nouane. Please respond."

The signal was powerful; more powerful than anything Nouane could produce. For a time, Dunkeel's Tho Yor would be out of touch, and Joren would be unable to reach him anymore than Dunkeel reach him.

TAG: @Mitth-Fisto, @HanSolo29 - Mitth, you are on a combo, 29, you have a cryptic message only, which you will see the morning after your reply. A relatively open TAG for Joren, a relatively curious one for Dunkeel(!)
---
IC: Venezia Delomeux
Nouane City, the day before the Second Protector Master Conclave

The family animated, and created results. Gala's were arranged, new buildings planned, housing programs proposed, and the Lords and Lady of Nouane were entirely silent on the actions of the Delomeux family.

While Erwen returned to his investigations and waited for Dunkeel to get in touch, he sought out clues as to Zas'tel's whereabouts to send to Vale, who he had seen a few days before, leaving her with Zinara. He hadn't had chance to arrange to see Joren, of course, but he would.

It was the day before the next meeting, a week after the first meeting, just after the Masters passing.

All of the Holocron's of Heresies had been passed out as instructed.

His Holocron of Prophecy, the warped crystal creation, remained in his possession to distribute.

Venezia lightly knocked on her brother's bedroom door, fresh from having handed out leaflets on campus for a charity event. It was exhausting work with no immediate results, but when the first gala began next week it would give them a real sense of achievement. She had a letter in her hand, post-marked for over a week ago. Why it had taken so long to reach Vydra she couldn't comment.

Within, unbeknownst to her, was a single line in the Master's handwriting.

I know what you're doing. Good luck.

The line was as ambivalent as it was threatening as it was congratulatory.

TAG: @Jerjerrod-Lennox
---
TAG: @QueenSabe7 (combo continues, to finalise this week)

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 (outstanding TAG)

 

GM OOC: I have had a bout of DRL so I intend to update this Thursday now. Half term, holidays, work dramas. Nothing terrifying, but just realities. If you have outstanding TAGs, I bequeath upon you an extra week. If you do not, enjoy a brief, brief, break.

If you have combos, I will continue to reply to them, with a view to all TAGs/combos being finalised by next week or I shall move on.

Cheers for your patience all.

@Jerjerrod-Lennox, @HanSolo29, @QueenSabe7, @Mitth_Fisto, @galactic-vagabond422

 

A combo with Sinrebirth:

IC: Joren & Tera Graal
Graal Residence, Capital City, Nouane

For the first time in weeks, Joren had managed to sleep through the night without his wandering thoughts causing unnecessary fears and nightmares. The open discussion with Tera had helped put his mind at ease, particularly where it concerned the Protectors and their own future together. It provided a sense of clarity that had previously alluded him, but now he felt as if he could endure through all the hardships – he had found a solid path in which he could follow. He was at peace.

But as fate would have it, that same peace would quickly become a detriment this morning – Joren was so relaxed that he had slept through his alarm.

And he had a lecture to give at the university.

With a muffled groan, the doctor sat upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed, the motion bringing a brief spell of vertigo to his sleep-ladened mind. He must’ve risen a little too rapidly, though he didn’t have time to allow it to fully dissipate; according to the chrono sitting on the nightstand, he only had thirty minutes to get ready. It would be damned close, but he could certainly make it. A quick shower and a small bite to eat should do it.

Joren did not bother to wake Tera. Instead, he brushed his hand lightly across her shoulder, adjusting the blanket around her neck, before rising stiffly to his feet. In his haste, he did not notice the red indicator light flashing on his comm to inform him that he had a message. He simply ran a hand through his tousled hair and continued on to the fresher.

Tera sat up as Joren left, releasing a huff of air as a wave of aches assailed her. There truly was no comfortable way to sleep when this pregnant. With a shift, she rolled to Joren's side of the bed, careful not to squash the baby - not especially possible, but psychologically it was always a thing -

And she saw his comlink.

It flashed up with a message from Dunkeel.

About the Twilight War.

Anxiety gripped Tera, and, in a rush of hormones, she deleted the message and returned the comlink to the bedside table. Guilt assailed her, but she wasn't able to examine the source, as all she felt was afraid. There was always that little voice in her head telling her that she was losing Joren - and it manifested as all of the side-comments about his seeming obsession with Vale - and then she was afraid for herself, on raising the baby alone, afraid for Joren -

All of a sudden the enormity of it consumed her, and she released a stifled cry.

Wrestling her emotions, Tera rolled over and squeezed her eyes sleep.

Exhaustion nibbled at her, and the shower wasn't going to stop that -

With his hair still wet and his clothes in disarray, Joren emerged from the fresher a short time later and crossed back through the darkened bedroom. As he passed by the nightstand, tucking in his shirt in the process, he once again failed to notice anything untoward about the comlink. He simply scooped it up, as was his routine, and secured it to his belt.

He might have continued on into the kitchen without another thought – if not for the sudden tingle that rippled through the Force and stopped him in his tracks. It was enough to send a chill down his spine, and he paused to glance back over his shoulder. Reaching out gently, he touched the sensation and tried to determine the source. The only thing he felt in return was fear and anguish. It didn’t take long for him to realize that it was emanating from Tera and that she was awake.

Inhaling deeply, Joren approached the bedside with tentative steps and lightly placed his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I was just about to head out,” he whispered close to her ear in a husky voice. “Will you be alright until I get back?”

Tera rolled over to look at him. She was conscious that Joren could sense her feelings in the Force, but that just added a sharper edge to her anxiety. He was being subtle, and undoubtedly he knew there was something wrong.

And he was still going out.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to release her concerns a little. "I will be fine, Joren. You need to go, and we'll have some more time to ourselves soon enough. Okay?"

She forced a smile. Sometimes, Tera wanted Joren to pry, and sometimes she didn't.

Right now? She didn't know what she wanted from Joren.

He wouldn't have much to work on.

And naturally, this played into his insecurities. Despite her reassurances, Joren could still tell that something was amiss. He felt tempted to reach out and probe deeper into her mind, though he knew that she would not approve. It was a breach of privacy – of her most intimate thoughts – and Joren promised himself long ago that he would never stoop to that level. He respected Tera too much to violate her in that way.

Pursing his lips, Joren leaned closer and exhaled softly through his nose. He wasn’t satisfied, but he was willing to submit to her wishes. In this instance, he had to trust that she would not lead him astray. They were about to embark on a new journey together, and they needed to have each others’ backs.

“Alright,” he relented softly, closing the rest of the gap between them to plant a kiss on her cheek. “But remember, I’m just a comm call away. If you need anything...or if it’s time, I’m here. You know that.”

Joren offered a small smile and gave her arm a firm squeeze. But as he straightened back to his full height, his blue eyes lingered on her features, almost as if he was still searching for answers. He wanted to give her one final chance to express her concerns before he slipped through the door.

Tera sat up, buoyed in some ways by his constant support. Pregnancy had made her a hormonal wreck, and this Protector episode had certainly added to that pressure. As much as she tried to stay calm for the baby, that created its own pressure to stay calm, and thus more stress emerged.

But as it was, Tera could only smile at the man. "I know."

"Go to work, Professor. We've a busy week and then your paternity starts." She blew him a kiss from the bed; an old habit they used to have when they were younger and fluffier. "And I can't wait; I really can't Joren."

With a quiet sigh, Joren nodded and offered a warm smile. He instantly recognized the small gesture from years ago and swiftly found himself returning it as if no time had passed between them. That was how it was with their relationship – they understood each other and had developed a sense of empathy that was unmatched. It was as if they could anticipate each others’ actions and hear each others’ thoughts. Joren had initially attributed this behavior to their strong bond, though now he believed it was the work of the Force in their lives.

While it had given him grief over the past few weeks, it had also provided him with this gift – this beautiful woman. And soon, a child.

Their child.

That was his hope. And that’s what ultimately kept him going.

“Neither can I,” he finally replied in a wistful tone, his eyes shining with contentment. “I’ll see you in a little bit – it shouldn’t be too long today. I promise.” He flashed one last smile as he turned to exit the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: The Narrator
Elsewhere

It was going to take another day for A'nang to reach Nouane from Dathomir, but it wouldn't be long.

The Shadow traipsed the City, snarling to itself about the confrontation that it had lost with Dunkeel.

Erwen made his enquiries, seeking an audience with the Lords and Lady on behalf of the Protectors, but also tracking down Zas'tel for Vale. He transmitted a few updates and was pretty sure he had narrowed the location of the Master's hideway to one of six warehouse's, which were all large enough to store, say, a Tho Yor. Zinara had to return to work, but a few patrol missions were optioned to Vale as well by High Command. As much as possible, Zinara tried to keep things turning over, and made sure Vale knew how much she loved her, but she was ever conscious of the collapse Vale had the day after the Master's death.

Tera continued to brood and prepare for the due date in a little over a week. She didn't tell Joren about the message from Dunkeel, but supported him in disentangling from his teaching this week, in anticipation of the next Protectors conclave. Her concerns about Joren she managed to push aside, especially in relation to Vale, on the basis that he would obviously sort everything out at the next meeting, go on paternity, and they would focus on themselves for a bit. Their conversation nearly a week ago became a crutch for her to lean on.

Meanwhile, Vydra's family went to great lengths to canvass the City, pushing ahead with convincing the rich to contribute to events, and plan fundraisers, and so forth. A few were floating their way past law enforcement, and Erwen was sure to approve each one that he had influence over. Separately, he passed on the family petitions to the Lords and Lady, but none were returned. There seemed to be a degree of 'wait and see what happens' from them, oddly. But he'd only seen Vydra a day before, because, of course, Vydra had passed out all the Holocrons of Heresies in his possession now, and had yet to decide which of the five secret apprentices he was to pass his own Holocron of Prophecy.

Dunkeel, of course, had his analysis completed by Heart, which yielded a degree of data about incentives being preferentially given to humans in the City rather than nonhumans, and a slight neglect of services in the eastern region. The wall between the City and those villages in the valley had been, however, subject to a quiet improvement program. The Tho Yor made no success finding the Shadow, and the ring didn't hint at its whereabouts.

It was the morning of the next Conclave.

It was time to head in.

Erwen intended to speak to Joren afterwards, as he'd been too busy to speak to the others.

The Shadow wondered what it should do while they met.

A'nang meditated on the Force, desperate for any indication of what to do about the Gree and Rakata.

It was, as they say, coming to a head.

And Zas'tel himself?

Well, that story was now ready to move forward.

TAG: @HanSolo29, @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @Mitth_Fisto, @QueenSabe7 (into the meeting you go... this is a free-form posting TAG. Post as much as you wish, but no more than twice before everyone else has)

TAG: @darthbernael, please kindly reply to the last TAG for Zas'tel

 

IC Zas’tel
Facing the 30

Zas’tel had padded into the construct and then finally into this chamber, ringed with thirty shades. One, a being with stark white eyes had mentally conversed with him for but a moment before launching into a speech, one that seemed to be designed to make him feel inferior and not worth the knowledge that he sought here.

The first Holocron. Within it is seventy five thousand years of Sith history. The species, the Daritha's, the wars against the Celestials. It was this Holocron that your Master discovered, and brought here, revealing, he said, that the eldritch Old Ones were not yet fully defeated, merely waiting for their chance to breach the walls and end time itself. If one escaped, it would be the Apocalypse itself... but if they all did?

It will not yield its secrets to a man in a cloak... it is said that after he dived into the depths of the Dark Holocron, the Master donned his black-cloak, designed to hide him from the dark side, and never removed it again.

In my time it is missing. My quest for immortality thwarted by the Jedi. But you... you have it here, and now...

Are you ready to make that sacrifice for your absent Master?

The voice echoed in Zas'tel's mind even as the eyes of he who ‘spoke’ it narrowed in an expression of eager anticipation of his destruction. He could feel a similar feeling from the others ringing the space, as if they were all assured that he would fail and fall to them. The shadow snorted, he hadn’t come this far, faced the darkness that tried to convince him he was dying, to be stopped by these beings, these shades, whatever they truly were.

In this time, in this place he understood why the Master had not granted him a holocron. But, at the same time he wished that he had one because a situation such as this felt like it required the type of snarky hinting at future or present events that made one wonder what his true goal was but also made one leave feeling like they’d been told what they needed to be told. And that wasn’t him so he had to do his best to blunder through to achieve the goal that he’d been set. He needed to learn what he’d come to learn so that he could fulfill the goal of the millennia to come.

With the way this one addressing him was speaking he almost wished that the man was present, certain that he could, at least, reach that one and rip out his throat before the others could react. Humans, well any being from a normal or low gravity world, were so slow anyway even if his reflexes weren’t as fast as Defel from their homeworld. But that would just satisfy his desire to wipe the smile off the face of the white eyed one and not satisfy the true reason why he had come to this place of the Dark Side..

He sighed, “You believe yourself so smart, you tell me, is the Master truly absent? Or are his robes shaking in laughter at your arrogance? Yes I came to this world for that, to learn, by his command and because it was necessary, which apparently means playing your game. But whatever may be sacrificed now is worth the price to ensure the future with you in it isn’t what you believe it to be.”

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: The Narrator

As Dunkeel settled into his sleep with patience, Vale would arrive at the clock-tower and sense only Dunkeel, and Dunkeel would sense only Vale. Joren and Vydra had opted to discuss events before the meeting itself, or rather Vydra had intercepted Joren before he made it to the Clock-Tower. It would give Vale and Dunkeel one final opportunity to meet up, before their comrades too joined them, and the final moment in the beginning of the Twilight War came to fruition.

Action, or indeed inaction, would cause the string of events created by the Master to crystallise and the way forward be set.

This was that moment.

The tension between what was prophecised and what was given, that would come into being today.

TAG: @QueenSabe7, @Mitth_Fisto, please move forward with the beginning of the meeting

TAG: @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @HanSolo29, please move forward with your combo
---
Moraband, Korriban, Pesegam - all these places and none

White Eyes laughed.

“You believe yourself so smart, you tell me, is the Master truly absent? Or are his robes shaking in laughter at your arrogance? Yes I came to this world for that, to learn, by his command and because it was necessary, which apparently means playing your game. But whatever may be sacrificed now is worth the price to ensure the future with you in it isn’t what you believe it to be.”

"He will resurface," he spat, "when your Truth is fulfilled, and the Dark One arises and ends the Ones, and the Twilight Wars consume all."

White Eyes glanced to the thirty Acolytes, who dropped to one knee and revealed five other men cloaked in the garb of the Master, as much as it was apparent that White Eyes, the orbs of his eyes growing larger. The cloaks withdrew their hoods, revealing their owners. Faces that had no meaning to Zas'tel, for he had no Holocron of Prophecy today.

Marka Ragnos.

Darth Ruin.

Darth Bane.

Darth Caedus.

Darth Krayt.

Sith that, in the millennia to come Zas'tel would observe as he cast his body aside and moved through time, or, as he was supposed to do, or indeed would, according to the Master, who had only wrote the Holocron of Prophecy because of Zas'tel...

They all stood together, peering down at Zas'tel.

"As the Seven Old Ones so battled the Ones, so too shall the Door to the Light be opened when the Light and Dark clashes for that final time. Me and my other selves will gather, and we shall discover the Truth behind the End of Time."

White Eyes lifted two hands, and a blaze of electricity burst from them, attempting to ensnare Zas'tel, causing his belt to be revealed, and the Forcesaber of silver and gold that the Master had given to him to be shown.

"I shall plunge you into sleep, and fill your body with my spirit, as I will these others, and take what was always to be mine!"

That malevolent cackle.

"Only now, at the end, do you understand."

TAG: @darthbernael

 

OOC: Combo with our busy busy GM

IC Zas’tel
Surprise, surprise, they’re trying to destroy me

A smirk crossed Zas’tel’s face as the man standing before him reacted to his taunt of sorts, drawing the man’s ire and causing him to continue to reveal more, possibly more than he intended to at this stage of the game.

As the white eyed one spat out his diatribe against Zas’tel five others revealed themselves. He knew them not but memorized their faces. As the speaker seemed to be, he was certain these five would have their own impact on the future so to know them and recognize them when they surfaced was of high importance.

His eyes narrowed as the diatribe ended and lightning shot forth. Darting backward, the voluminous robes flapped around him. As he did the lightning illuminated a Forcesaber seemingly identical to his own on his opponents belt. One hand nipped inside his robe, flashing back into view, lighting as it cleared the robe. A slight sigh came forth as the saber absorbed the lightning, giving him respite to figure out how to deal with what the other said he intended to do, to take him and use him to enact his own plans.

The white eyed man paused, laughing, and ceasing the lightning.

"You resist, but know nothing. You wear the vestments of the Master; as do we - why not accept the truth that the actions of the Master will lead you to the Dark anyway? I know - I meet him."

He fluttered a hand, and the Forcesaber of the Master's design slid into his palm.

The others stood stonily, staring down at Zas'tel.

"The Sith are the Master's intention; surely you can see that I hold the most ancient Forcesaber ever made... the one you hold."

He did not ignite it, and merely grinned.

“You may meet him, but I have spent even more time in his presence, I am sure. And whether he intends you to exist or not is not the question, the question is what I believe must be done and I know why I am here and what I must do.” Zas’tel stated calmly as he recovered his Forcesaber to a low guard, extinguishing the blade for the nonce as his opponent was not advancing or attacking.

“As to that saber, should you end up with it then I, not the Master, was the one who entrusted it to you. Oh wait, you didn’t know that bit did you?” he asked with a cheeky grin on his face.

A glower.

"The Masters games do not intrigue me; they are merely the board from which I shall take it all."

But it was too late; Ruin, Bane, the other Sith, they each began to fade away. Dark particles rose up into the roof, and the others became translucent.

"It would seem that our time is up. The fated clash between Dark and Light has come to an end. The Rule of Seven will come to fruition soon, and when it does, we shall see what secrets the Twilight Wars contained."

One ignited their blade and leaped down from the balcony, slicing down with a blade of crimson.

Caedus had a two handed swing down at Zas'tel.

‘The Rule of Seven and how that is affected by the Twilight Wars, definitely I must study this and include it in my focus as well as these faces.’ Zas’tel thought as the figure before him finished speaking and he and the others began to fade.

One, however, leapt from the balcony, seeming to defy the sending that was drawing each back to their times and places. He remained calm however, waiting, although he lit his Forcesaber once more, trusting his speed and instincts to move and block, should that figure not fade as the others were doing.

Caedus forced a lock to occur, his eyes yellowing as they met Zas’tel’s. There is a kernel of what you need to know already within you. Nurture it, and essence transfer will be yours. This was a trap, one set by him, one set by his knowledge of the Holocron of Prophecy. You must find someone to pass the Forcesaber to, and a new body to pass into the next world. If you don’t, we won’t stop him.

He swung again, aiming for Zas’tel’s neck; the blow was incredibly swift, and White Eyes cackled. “We’ll need to find a seventh body, it seems. But it is destiny that I shall return, and on that fated day, the Twilight Wars will usher in the End of Time.”

His voice dropped contempt.

“Riiiiise, the Shadow of Sistros.”

Zas’tel snapped his saber back and up interposing it, with the speed his kind were known for, between his neck and the saber of the one attacking him. Even as he did his eyes narrowed for a moment at the last comment, ‘Hmmm, either I or the Master have spoken to him indeed, in the future and I sincerely doubt either of us would have passed along that name.’

He slid to the side as he blocked the strike, a rapid movement to evade while still keeping the two who had not yet disappeared in sight, having no guarantee that the white eyed one wouldn’t attack again. “I am the shadows and I will not fail my mission, even if it is to prevent your rise.”

White Eyes cackled, and laughed.

"The two become one..."

With that, he faded, as did Caedus, his eyes staring in Zas'tel's, and the other Sith in the Black Coat.

It was over. The Dark Holocron darkened, was flooded with darkness, and swam out of existence; it had never been here, either.

But Zas'tel would feel the kernel of the change within him; his body had nearly experienced essence transfer, and was learning from the experience, intuiting the way to use it... it was not there, not yet, but perhaps it would when the Defel needed it.

Perhaps.

The Tho Yor rumbled an enquiry.

What happened?

Zas’tel shook his head as he extinguished his saber, returning it to his belt. ‘Another test, and this one perhaps not of the Master’s doing.’ he thought.

He felt the change beginning inside him, realized that the knowledge he sought was there and not there, he’d have to hope that when it was needed he’d be able to access it but it wasn’t at his disposal as it was. And the temple was empty.

Time to return to the Tho Yar.

Even as he knew that was what he needed he felt the vehicle’s inquiry.

"A test, one that seemed to have no true resolution except that I begin to understand that which the Master sent me to retrieve." he replied.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, Anyone who wishes to know what Zas'tel is up to

 

IC: Captain Erwen
Nouane, doing his rounds

There was an air of electricity in the day.

Some... tension, arguably. But there was hope as well. Captain Erwen absorbed it, dwelt on it, and began to thread through data and content. He didn't have technology on his side, he simply had contacts, detective work, and a decent understanding of the various species and how they overlapped. It wasn't that he knew about them all, it was merely an innate grip of what made them different and strain against each other, especially as the south was pockmarked with little groups of species hunkering out together.

So when the warehouse he had been watching for the return of Zas'tel had nothing more than the simple fact that the various animal life that had surrounded it abandoned their enroachment upon it. A few of the more animalistic species in the area would hunt them, and their hunting patterns were disrupted by the simple occupation of the warehouse after days, perhaps weeks.

To sell the moment, he knew that there were no other things which evidenced an occupant. No technology revealed a life form; and in the meantime, if he had the Force, he wouldn't have detected Zas'tel. He knew that much, because nobody else could sense Zas'tel, and Vale, maybe even Vydra, would have told him that Zas'tel was back. Similarly, no matter how many patrollers he sent, they would get confused and lost, and forget the order, but he still had the hunting evidence. His officers were addled. Even it wasn't an active decision, something was intervening.

It meant Erwen knew that Zas'tel was back.

He immediately flipped his comlink over and messaged Vale.

Zas'tel is here; the warehouse I was scoping, it's being occupied now. No matter how I approach it; it's empty, but it's not. I am convinced he's back.

Her comlink would buzz in front of Dunkeel.

@Mitth_Fisto, @QueenSabe7
---
In orbit

He had pushed the Kwa ship to it's limits, but arrived at Nouane even earlier than planned.

The blue-skinned reptilian humanoid had been dwelling, debating, calling up records. There was a prescience, even a weight to the Chistori's belief in matters. The Master of Masters was dead, but he seemed to have left a... Contingency? It was giving one of his apprentices a certainty that was concerning.

The Kwa played the conversation over and over in his mind.

He studied the readings, and discovered the source was a Tho Yor design of some kind. A'nang had seen the ones that served the Celestials; nine of them - the ninth of which was immense, and large enough to contain a world unto itself; not that the Father allowed him access. With some concerns, A'nang had sent a message to the Father, requesting his guidance...

... but he couldn't wait. He had simply send the request, with the data, and pushed his ship back into hyperspace, drawing upon the Force to assist with navigation.

A burst-transmission had been received; an update on the war. The Gree had been firing bursts from their Gate weapons to keep the Kwa from firing theirs, and vice-versa, while both factions rushed to place Gates on new worlds. It was a kind of cold war arguably, a century long one which the Kwa had fought on behalf of the redeemed Rakata. They needed to get back to preparing the next generation; the Je'daii Order, spreading a belief in balance, an understanding of the light and the dark.

Instead here he was.

Worried about what Dunkeel knew.

The Kwa ship arrived in orbit, and he immediately keyed the comlink. He had it in hand while he headed to his launch; a small shuttle. "Protector Dunkeel, it is A'nang. I am here; earlier, I know, than intended, but we must speak. You anticipated me - I must know why."

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @QueenSabe7
---
Warehouse District

The small Tho Yor settled softly, and Zas'tel was released from it. He immediately knew that he had to flow-walk back to the past, so he could have the Master's Eye see what he had missed. The trip to Moraband had taken both more and less time than it should have, and there was all manner of connotations and yet, not, to what he had seen.

Zas'tel didn't have the context to understand what White Eyes was speaking of, nor the other Sith who had turned up.

Perhaps, if he had a Holocron of Prophecy, he would.

But there was a ripple in the Force; Zas'tel had done something, and didn't know it.

There was a dissonance...

A virus in the plan.

He would know this with absolute certainty, and he would sense a chittering noise, which transformed into a man in red.



It was the Shadow that Dunkeel had met earlier, now in a form of shape.

It was a shape the Croke would use again and again, for their nefarious schemes for millennia to come.

Even the most famous of them, Rokur Gepta, and Soliloquy, would adopt this form to speak.

"Shadow! Your vestments allow you to use the dark side with aplomb... but you stink of it... did you go visit Typhojem's Skull? Did the Dark Man speak to you?"

TAG: @darthbernael (combo?)
---
Nouane City, elsewhere

Of course, in the meantime, Vydra and Joren were having their conversation.

There were revelations, and truths, but they followed lies, and paranoia.

The five Holocron's of Heresies had been bequeathed to their five recipients.

Vydra still had his Holocron of Prophecy, though it was supposed to be passed on.

At the same time of course, Joren had his, and it hadn't mentioned its little titbit of sentence to him anew.

But without trust, what would they do?

They had been told their truths, and then their secrets. The secrets had been designed by the Master separately, but his students had made decisions to conflate them. Or, perhaps, the Master had led them to do so.

It was difficult.

Because the question of how to handle the information was rooted in the obvious question.

Was the Master benevolent?

Or was the Master malevolent?

They tried to go forward, crippled by that question.

The Sages of Dwartii would be remembered one day, but for this? One would hope not.

Sistros and his Shadow, Yanjon, Braata and Faya.

Names had power.

Had the Master expected them to lose faith in each other... and created a plan even for that?

TAG: @HanSolo29, @Jerjerrod-Lennox

 

OOC: Fun with Sinre again

IC Zas’tel
Warehouse, facing the Shadow

No sooner had Zas’tel leapt from the Tho Yar than he was assaulted with various impressions, one that he needed to flow walk and the second more than an impression, it was a physical manifestation, the same creature, apparently, that had accosted him before. This time it manifested as a man in red vestments.

At the other questions he sighed, everyone seemed to know where he was going or what he was doing except himself.

“I travelled, on my own business, and unless you followed me where I went or to whom I spoke it is no business of yours.”

"Come now, come now," the man said, weighing up a hand. "You and I both know that you've been on some mission for the Master. Luckily for you, you have that cloak, which allows you to visit places of dark power, to even use the dark side of the Force with minimal consequences."

There was a chuckle. "Tell me, how does it feel to skirt so close to what is simply unnatural?"

Zas’tel turned a sigh into a coughing chuckle. "Hmmm, let us see. First,” he raised his arms, the robes draping around them, “you appear to be a spirit or Force sensitive, at the least, and you say I was on a mission for the Master, yet you don’t feel that he is gone, so how could that be?. Second you, as with others, seem to know more of what I have or do than I myself. Third, hmmm, is not the entirety of Force ability unnatural in the overall reach of beinghood across the galaxy, whether Light or Dark? So few have it or use it.”

He paused, observing the man before him, “So I say again my business is my own, unless you can provide anything that would cause me to reconsider my position.”

The man laughed slightly. "All business is the business of the Dark."

A soft chuckle. "Who is to say whether the Master being deceased is even relevant to his plans. He has all his pieces in play - he merely excused himself from the board to see what would happen." A wagged finger.

"I feel as if a grand plan to erase the darkness is my business, no? You're key to that; to creating a fixed point in the future, with your... wandering eye." The man gestured to the Forcesaber. "But it's already too late, isn't it? You succeed, because all of this is going to happen."

A shrug. "No?" The Sorcerer stepped forward. "Or is there something else you are to do, beyond that?"

Zas’tel tilted his head, a wry smile upon his face, “Equally one could say all business is the business of the Light. But I was given to understand that we Protectors were created not just to serve the Light but to ensure that the future occurs and that supreme destruction and the Destructors do not bring about the End Times, and does that always mean staying in the Light?”

He held his position, even as the other advanced. “We succeed, hmmm? You tell me as you seem to be the one threatened by what is done now, whether by me or the others. And you seem particularly focused on me.”

Zas’tel began to turn as though to retrieve something from the Tho Yar, even if that meant another leap to re-enter it. “Something else, there is always something else. Protection is not something that is a one time and done thing, neither is Destruction, so it’s always a move and counter move ballet.”

"Oh yes," the Sorcerer said, bemused. "But its not going to be you, is it? You're just to watch, and watch, and watch... until the Twilight Wars and End of Time."

A shrug. "I am just here to make sure that you keep doing that."

"We wouldn't want, what was it... temporal anomalies, would we?"

With that, the Sorcerer vanished into smoke.

As the man vanished, Zas’tel snorted, ‘Another one, so interested in my progress or lack of it. Just means more work to keep my own actions hidden, if that’s even possible.’ he thought before ensuring the Tho Yar was sealed, exiting the warehouse, locking that in turn, and making his way through the shadows toward the Clock Tower.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Captain Erwen
Nouane City, near the Clock Tower

Erwen found himself waiting with anticipation for Vale to answer; he had headed to the Clock-Tower to meet Vale as soon as she was free, so they could head off and confront Zas'tel together.

Resend location, I will scope it out after the meeting.

In some ways, Erwen deflated, and he took the time to check himself. He felt like he was getting closer to the truth of matters - of whatever the Master had planned. He needed to take back his neutrality and certainty. This was an investigation, not a quest.

With that mindset, he focused, looking for Zas'tel.

Part of his mind, the element more detached than not, worked on the idea that the man was closest to the Master than any... why would he style himself after him? And what did the Master care about most?

Ah ha.

His students.

So he'd likely be on his way here... and Erwen knew all the ways in and out of the Clock-Tower...

Erwen knew the main entrance, but he also knew the shadowed one, by the waterway that ran underneath the Clock-Tower... there was a maintenance entrance there, the Master liked to use it. So...

The police officer turned that way, checked his blaster was set to stun, and moved swiftly but casually.

TAG: @darthbernael
---
IC: Narrator
The Protector's Meeting

"Apologies, Master Dunkeel." Vale had moved back to where she had left the Chistori and took a seat at the meeting table, starting to scroll through the datapad again. "Hopefully the others will arrive soon so we can get all this sorted somehow..."

"No need to apologize, unless I need to as well." He had stated with a dismissing wave and head shake, "I agree, I hope the others arrive immediately. The visitor from Kwa whom is here to take one of us to mediate is here ahead of schedule and everyone's silence to my sent messages of an enemy of The Master and us present has been upsetting enough."

Of course, Dunkeel didn't know that Joren's partner had intercepted and deleted the message.

It was often the little things that started the wheels spinning; they connected to each other, spot to spot, building and building...

It became a destiny; Fate, in the end. The inevitable coming of everything that had happened before.

Vydra and Joren weren't present, and their comlinks were off for the duration of their... discussion. Their argument? To be seen.

That left the two of them, almost awkwardly, while Vale had a datapad before her about a Croke, a shapeshifter, and the words the Shadow had said. The Kwa and Gree were skirmishing over the fate of a species called the Rakata, who, like the Kwa, had once served the Old Ones in the war against the Celestials some sixty-five millennia ago. The Kwa had once been the Kwoth, until their redemption, the story went. Now, the Kwa wished to bring the Rakata into the galactic community, but the Gree were strongly of the opinion that they'd been duped.

The Father of the Celestials had given permission for the Kwa to seek a third party, as he was distracted managing the Son and Daughter.

Much of this data had came from the Holocron of Prophecy in Dunkeel's possession.

The Force was briefly a disquiet as Dunkeel's irritation filled it.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @QueenSabe7

@HanSolo29, @Jerjerrod-Lennox (combo continue, please)
---
IC: A'nang
In orbit, Kwa ship

The blue reptilian paced back and forth.

How dare Dunkeel silence him? He was on a mission ordained by the Celestials!

It was frustrating. The Father was refusing to intervene as long as he was busy, making checks and balances whenever the agents of the Son and Daughter acted...

The Kwa paused. In his annoyance, he had opened a direct channel to the Father...

On the old line...

The one all the species that served the Father had access to...

Even the Gree.

Many, many, many expletives arose from the Kwa's mouth.

TAG: No-One