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<img src="Title.png" class="png"> <div style="text-align: center;">The Republic is rebuilding after 30 years of war from the Mandalorians, Jedi and Sith. A time of fragile peace is sustained. The Jedi, guided by MEETRA SURIK, seek to re-establish peace and order in the galaxy, as REVAN’s location is still unknown, presumably searching for the True Sith. Little do the HEROES know how soon their ancient enemy will unleash their greatest weapon on the galaxy…</div> [[The camera pans down to...->RatakaPrime]]

Before you start... * This is a fan-written direct continuation of the canon KotOR stories, based on Legends history. * This is a Choice-Driven Story! That includes different endings, story detours, light vs dark decisions. Enjoy the journey! * Use the sidebar to find more information on your story. New information will appear as you continue through the story. Legal disclaimer: This fan fiction is a transformative work under fair use. It reimagines and expands upon the original material for commentary, creative expression, and entertainment. Nothing in this story or its contents should be considered canon. Nothing with this work of fan fiction is or will be monetized in any way regarding Star Wars. [[A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...->Title]]

ACT I * [[A Long Time Ago...->Splash Page]]

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As you continue through the story, character descriptions will appear and update. Legends <img src="Portrait/Revan Portrait.png" class="thumb">[[Revan->Revan]] <img src="Portrait/Meetra Portrait.png" class="thumb">[[Meetra Surik->Meetra]] <<if $Sojourn1Connections>><img src="Portrait/Bastila Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Bastila Shan">><<replace "#Bastila">>Bastila Shan <img src="Portrait/Bastila Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Jedi Knight, Republic War Hero, Master of Battle Meditation Overview Bastila Shan is a Human Jedi Knight renowned for her mastery of Battle Meditation, a rare Force ability capable of influencing the outcome of entire battles. She is known for her strong will, disciplined training, and crucial role in the defeat of Darth Malak during the Jedi Civil War. Her actions are driven by devotion to the Jedi Order and the defense of the Republic, though she often struggles with the burden of responsibility and the temptations of power. Over time, Bastila evolves from a proud young Jedi into a wiser leader within the restored Jedi Order and a key figure in the Republic’s recovery after the war. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Talravin * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Jedi Order, Consular Notable Traits * Lightsaber combat and Force combat training * Strong-willed and disciplined leadership * Battle Meditation History The Jedi Civil War As the Republic struggled against the Sith fleet of Darth Revan, Bastila Shan became one of the Jedi Order’s most valuable assets due to her powerful Battle Meditation. During a Republic strike on Revan’s flagship, she helped lead the Jedi assault that resulted in Revan’s capture after Darth Malak betrayed him. The Jedi Council later erased Revan’s memories, believing Bastila’s connection to him could help guide him toward redemption. The Search for the Star Forge After the Sith attacked the Republic cruiser Endar Spire, Bastila escaped with Republic pilot Carth Onasi and a soldier who would later prove to be the memory-wiped Revan. Traveling aboard the Ebon Hawk, she helped search the galaxy for ancient Star Maps that revealed the location of the Sith Star Forge. Fall and Redemption Bastila was eventually captured by Darth Malak, who sought to corrupt her powerful Battle Meditation. Under intense torture and manipulation, she briefly fell to the dark side and was forced to strengthen Malak’s Sith fleet. Confronted by Revan and reminded of her loyalty to the Jedi, Bastila rejected Malak’s control and returned to the light. Her restored Battle Meditation aided the Republic fleet in the assault on the Star Forge, leading to Malak’s defeat and the end of the Jedi Civil War. Republic Ambassador As the Republic began rebuilding after years of war and the Jedi Order struggled to restore itself, Bastila accepted a new role as a Republic Ambassador. Acting as a diplomatic representative between the Senate and the Jedi, she works to rebuild trust between the two institutions while ensuring the future Jedi Order remain involved in the Republic’s recovery and defense. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Sojourn1Connections>><img src="Portrait/Carth Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Carth Onasi">><<replace "#Carth">>Carth Onasi <img src="Portrait/Carth Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Republic Admiral, War Hero Overview Carth Onasi is a Human officer of the Galactic Republic Navy and one of the Republic’s most respected war heroes. He is known for his exceptional piloting skills, loyalty to the Republic, and his role in the defeat of Darth Malak during the Jedi Civil War. His actions are driven by a deep commitment to justice and a personal struggle to trust others after the betrayal of his former mentor, Saul Karath. Over time, Carth rose from a skilled Republic pilot to a senior military leader, helping stabilize the Republic during its recovery from decades of war. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Telos IV * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Republic Navy Notable Traits * Ace pilot and skilled military commander * Guarded but deeply loyal to allies * Exceptional starfighter combat instincts History The Mandalorian Wars Carth Onasi served as a Republic pilot during the Mandalorian Wars, flying numerous combat missions across the galaxy. Though he respected the Jedi who joined the Republic war effort, the devastation of the conflict left lasting scars on both the Republic military and Carth himself. The Jedi Civil War During the Sith invasion led by Darth Revan and Darth Malak, Carth continued serving the Republic Navy. His mentor, Admiral Saul Karath, defected to the Sith, betraying the Republic and contributing to the destruction of Carth’s homeworld of Telos IV. This betrayal deeply affected Carth and shaped his lifelong struggle with trust. Journey Aboard the Ebon Hawk Carth later joined Bastila Shan and a newly recruited Republic soldier aboard the Ebon Hawk, unaware that the soldier was the memory-wiped Darth Revan. Together they searched for the Star Forge and fought Sith forces across the galaxy. The Fall of Malak and Rise of a Hero Carth helped lead the assault on the Star Forge that destroyed Darth Malak’s empire and ended the Jedi Civil War. After the war he continued serving the Republic, eventually rising to the rank of Admiral and dedicating his efforts to rebuilding and defending the recovering Republic. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> Heroes <<if $Ossus1Disturbances>><img src="Portrait/Atton Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Atton Rand">><<replace "#Atton">>Atton Rand <img src="Portrait/Atton Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Pilot of the Ebon Hawk, Former Sith Assassin, Companion of Meetra Surik Overview Atton Rand is a Human pilot and former soldier who is one of Meetra Surik’s closest companions during the aftermath of the Jedi Civil War. He is known for his sharp wit, exceptional piloting skill, and a past tied to Sith intelligence operations. His actions are driven by guilt over the atrocities he once committed and a growing loyalty to Meetra and her cause. Over time, Atton evolved from a cynical drifter hiding from his past, into a trusted ally who helps protect the Jedi and confront the remnants of the Sith threat. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Unknown * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Ebon Hawk Crew, Jedi Sentinel Notable Traits * Expert starship pilot and gambler * Sarcastic, cynical sense of humor * Force sensitivity resistant to detection by other Force-users History Service as a Sith Assassin Atton served the Sith during the Jedi Civil War as an operative tasked with hunting and killing Jedi. Trained to resist mental intrusion from Force-users, he specialized in tracking Jedi and exploiting their weaknesses. Haunted by the lives he took, he eventually abandoned the Sith and went into hiding. Journey with Meetra Years later, Atton was imprisoned on the mining facility Peragus II, where he encountered Meetra Surik, returning from exile. Traveling across the galaxy with Meetra and her allies, Atton served as the primary pilot of the Ebon Hawk. During this journey he confronted the guilt of his past and gradually revealed his history as a Sith assassin, ultimately choosing to stand with Meetra against the Sith Triumvirate. A Loyal Companion in the Aftermath After the fall of the Sith Triumvirate, Atton remained loyal to Meetra Surik and continued flying the Ebon Hawk during her missions. Despite his cynicism and reluctance to take on heroic titles, he became one of Meetra’s most dependable companions as they faced new threats emerging in the galaxy. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Ossus1Disturbances>><img src="Portrait/BaoDur Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Bao-Dur">><<replace "#Bao-Dur">>Bao-Dur <img src="Portrait/BaoDur Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Engineer, Republic Veteran, Companion of the Jedi Exile Overview Bao-Dur is a Zabrak engineer and former Republic soldier who served under Meetra Surik during the Mandalorian Wars. He is known for his exceptional engineering skill, calm and reflective demeanor, and his role in designing the Mass Shadow Generator used at Malachor V. His actions are driven by guilt over the devastation caused by that weapon, and a desire to repair the damage left by war. Over time, Bao-Dur transforms from a haunted veteran into a devoted ally of Meetra Surik, using his skills to rebuild, protect others, and ensure the mistakes of the past are not repeated. Affiliations * Species: Zabrak * Homeworld: Iridonia * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Ebon Hawk Crew, Jedi Sentinel Notable Traits * Advanced engineering and mechanical expertise * Quiet, thoughtful, and compassionate * Cybernetic arm capable of interfacing with technology and generating energy fields History The Mandalorian Wars Bao-Dur served as a Republic engineer and technician during the Mandalorian Wars under the command of Meetra Surik, during which he created the Mass Shadow Generator, a weapon that crushed fleets and shattered the planet when activated. Though its activation at Malachor V ended the war, the devastation haunted him for years. Journey with Meetra Surik Following the conflict, Bao-Dur struggled with the consequences of Malachor V and the destruction his weapon caused. When Meetra Surik returned to the galaxy during the rise of the Sith Triumvirate, Bao-Dur joined her cause, hoping to atone for his role in the war. Traveling aboard the Ebon Hawk, Bao-Dur used his engineering skill to maintain the ship, construct equipment, and aid Meetra’s mission across the galaxy. His technical insight often proved essential in navigating dangerous worlds and confronting the remnants of Sith power. The Fall of Malachor During Meetra’s final confrontation on Malachor V, Bao-Dur remained with the Ebon Hawk repairing the badly damaged ship, while Meetra and the other Jedi faced Darth Traya and her Sith forces. He dispatched his remote droid to reactivate the Mass Shadow Generator, triggering the planet’s final destabilization and allowing Meetra and the others to escape as Malachor collapsed. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Tython1Arrival>><img src="Portrait/Jolee Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Jolee Bindo">><<replace "#Jolee">>Jolee Bindo <img src="Portrait/Jolee Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Jedi Master, Hermit Sage, Instructor of the Tython Enclave Overview Jolee Bindo is a Human Jedi Master known for his sharp wit, unconventional wisdom, and independent view of the Force. He is known for his role in aiding Revan during the Jedi Civil War and for helping guide a new generation of Jedi. His actions are driven by a desire to help others avoid the rigid dogma and mistakes that once divided the Jedi Order. Over time, Jolee evolved from a reclusive hermit living in self-imposed exile to a respected mentor who lends his experience to the rebuilding of the Jedi tradition. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Coruscant * Faction: Galactic Republic (aligned) * Organization: Jedi Order, Consular Notable Traits * Experienced Force practitioner and lightsaber combatant * Dry humor and philosophical insight * Deep understanding of balance in the Force History Jedi Knight of the Old Republic Jolee Bindo was once a member of the Jedi Order who served during earlier conflicts of the Republic. Over time he grew disillusioned with the Order’s rigid rules and the consequences they had on the lives of those around him. Hermit of Kashyyyk Leaving the Jedi behind, Jolee chose a life of isolation in the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk, living as a hermit for many years. There he reflected on the nature of the Force and developed his own independent philosophy about balance and personal responsibility. The Jedi Civil War During the Jedi Civil War, Jolee joined Revan and the crew of the Ebon Hawk after encountering them on Kashyyyk. He aided their mission to locate the Star Forge and ultimately helped in the struggle that ended with the defeat of Darth Malak. Master at the Tython Enclave Jolee and Juhani shared dreams of a mysterious planet that eventually led them to rediscover Tython, a deeply Force-connected planet and the homeworld of the Je’daii order. After establishing a new enclave, they began training Force-sensitive beings in secret, aligning their training closer to what they uncovered about the Je’daii instead of the traditional Jedi Order. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Ossus1Disturbances>><img src="Portrait/Mira Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Mira">><<replace "#Mira">>Mira <img src="Portrait/Mira Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Bounty Hunter, Jedi Apprentice, Companion of Meetra Surik Overview Mira is a Human bounty hunter who became one of Meetra Surik’s trusted companions during the struggle against the Sith Triumvirate. She is known for her exceptional tracking abilities, survival instincts, and her refusal to kill targets despite working as a bounty hunter. Her actions are driven by a deep desire to protect others from the suffering she experienced during the Mandalorian Wars. Over time, Mira evolves from a hardened survivor of war and the underworld into a Force-sensitive ally of the Jedi Exile, using her skills and growing connection to the Force to help others. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Unknown * Faction: Galactic Republic (aligned) * Organization: Ebon Hawk Crew, Jedi Sentinel Notable Traits * Expert tracker and survivalist * Independent and pragmatic * Force sensitivity History Child of the Mandalorian Wars Mira was orphaned during the Mandalorian Wars, taken by Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders and forced into their ranks as a slave-soldier to support their war effort. Though she survived, the experience left deep scars and shaped her lifelong hatred of senseless violence. Life on Nar Shaddaa After the Mandalorian Wars ended, Mira eventually found her way to Nar Shaddaa, where she struggled to survive among the moon’s criminal underworld. She became a bounty hunter, gaining a reputation for successfully capturing targets, while maintaining a strict personal rule against killing them. Encounter with Meetra Mira crossed paths with Meetra Surik amid growing conflict between the Exchange and other criminal factions. Impressed by Meetra’s actions and drawn into the wider struggle against the Sith Triumvirate, Mira joined the crew of the Ebon Hawk. While traveling with Meetra, Mira began to discover her own sensitivity to the Force. Under Meetra’s guidance she learned to recognize and develop this ability, combining her instincts as a hunter with the discipline of Jedi training. A Hunter with a Purpose After the fall of the Sith Triumvirate, Mira continued to assist Meetra Surik and the crew of the Ebon Hawk. Though still pragmatic and independent, she increasingly used her skills and growing connection to the Force to protect others and confront the lingering dangers left by the Sith. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Ossus1Disturbances>><img src="Portrait/T3-M4 Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "T3-M4">><<replace "#T3-M4">>T3-M4 <img src="Portrait/T3-M4 Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Astromech Droid, Ebon Hawk Technician and Companion Overview T3-M4 is an astromech droid who served as a loyal companion to Revan and later Meetra Surik during some of the galaxy’s most pivotal conflicts. He is known for his exceptional slicing ability, technical expertise, and unwavering loyalty to his allies. His actions are driven by a core directive to assist and protect those he serves, particularly the crew of the Ebon Hawk. Over time, T3-M4 evolves from a utility droid purchased for a mission into a trusted partner who repeatedly safeguards critical information and helps guide the galaxy’s heroes through times of crisis. Affiliations * Type: Astromech Droid * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Independent / Ebon Hawk Crew Notable Traits * Advanced slicing and computer infiltration * Quietly loyal and dependable * Integrated utility tools and encrypted data storage History Service Aboard the Ebon Hawk T3-M4 was originally purchased by Revan, becoming a permanent member of the Ebon Hawk crew. He assisted Revan, Bastila Shan, and their allies in locating ancient Star Maps and navigating the galaxy while constantly maintaining and upgrading the ship’s systems. His loyalty and technical ability contributed to the mission that ultimately ended Darth Malak’s Sith Empire. Guardian of Revan’s Legacy In the years following the war, T3-M4 remained closely tied to Revan’s mission. After Revan disappeared into the Unknown Regions, the droid safeguarded vital information and continued aiding Meetra Surik, helping guide her journey to uncover the threats Revan had been pursuing and ensuring the legacy of his mission endured.<</replace>><</link>><</if>> Allies <<if $Telos1Arin>><<link "-Arin Deras">><<replace "#ArinDeras">>Arin Deras <img src="Portrait/.png" class="portrait"> Force-Sensitive Child Overview Arin Deras is a young Mirialan Force-sensitive discovered by Meetra Surik during the investigation of galaxy-wide Force disturbances. He is known for his unusual calm awareness of the Force despite his age and for the strange dreams that accompany his emerging abilities. His actions are driven largely by curiosity and an instinctive connection to the Force he does not yet fully understand. Affiliations * Species: Mirialan * Homeworld: Telos IV * Faction: Galactic Republic (aligned) * Organization: Jedi Order (potential trainee), Sentinel Notable Traits * Strong natural sensitivity to the Force * Calm and observant temperament * Instinctive connection to large-scale Force harmonics <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Telos1Chodo>><<link "Chodo Habat">><<replace "#Chodo">>Chodo Habat <img src="Portrait/.png" class="portrait"> Ithorian Elder, Leader of the Telos Restoration Effort Overview Chodo Habat is an Ithorian elder and spiritual leader devoted to restoring worlds devastated by war. He is known for directing the Ithorian-led Telosian Restoration Project and for his peaceful philosophy that life and the Force must exist in harmony. His actions are driven by a deep belief that healing damaged ecosystems is essential to healing the galaxy itself. Over time, Chodo Habat becomes one of the most influential figures in the Republic’s reconstruction era, guiding efforts to restore Telos IV after its devastation during the Jedi Civil War. Affiliations * Species: Ithorian * Homeworld: Ithor * Faction: Galactic Republic (aligned) * Organization: Ithorian Restoration Initiative / Telosian Restoration Project Notable Traits * Expert ecological restoration planning * Compassionate and spiritually guided leadership * Deep philosophical connection to the balance of life <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Tython1Arrival>><img src="Portrait/Juhani Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Juhani">><<replace "#Juhani">>Juhani <img src="Portrait/Juhani Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Jedi Master, Guardian of Tython Overview Juhani is a Cathar Jedi Knight who fought alongside Revan during the Jedi Civil War and later helped rebuild the Jedi tradition. She is known for her fierce loyalty, strong moral conviction, and her determination to overcome the darkness she once fell into. Her actions are driven by a desire for redemption and a belief that strength must be used to protect others. Over time, Juhani evolved from a troubled Jedi struggling with anger into a steadfast guardian and mentor, helping guide a new generation of Force-sensitive students on the rediscovered world of Tython. Affiliations * Species: Cathar * Homeworld: Cathar * Faction: Galactic Republic (aligned) * Organization: Jedi Order, Guardian Notable Traits * Skilled lightsaber duelist and battlefield guardian * Fiercely loyal and honorable * Strong Force sensitivity and emotional resilience History Fall and Redemption on Dantooine During her training as a Jedi, Juhani struggled with anger and self-doubt stemming from her traumatic past. Believing she had killed her master in a moment of rage, she fell briefly to the dark side before being confronted by Revan, who helped her return to the light and rejoin the Jedi Order. The Jedi Civil War After her redemption, Juhani joined Revan’s mission aboard the Ebon Hawk to locate the Star Forge and defeat Darth Malak. She fought alongside the crew across the galaxy, helping bring an end to the Sith Empire during the final assault on the Star Forge. The Tython Enclave Juhani and Jolee Bindo shared recurring dreams of a powerful world strong in the Force. Following these visions, they rediscovered Tython, the ancient homeworld of the Je’daii Order, and established a hidden enclave there to study the planet’s ancient teachings and significance. Together with Jolee, Juhani began training Force-sensitive beings in secret on Tython. Their teachings drew inspiration from the philosophies of the ancient Je’daii as much as the traditions of the Jedi, creating a new foundation for future Force-users while protecting the world from threats that might seek to claim its power. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Telos1Arrival>><<link "Lieutenant Dol Grenn">><<replace "#Grenn">>Dol Grenn <img src="Portrait/" class="portrait"> TSF Lieutenant, Security Liaison of Citadel Station Overview Dol Grenn is a Lieutenant of the Telos Security Force (TSF) responsible for maintaining order on Citadel Station during the fragile recovery of Telos IV. He is known for his diligence, pragmatic approach to law enforcement, and willingness to cooperate with outsiders who help maintain stability. His actions are driven by a strong sense of duty to protect the recovering Telosian population and ensure that criminal elements do not undermine the planet’s restoration. Over time, Grenn becomes a reliable local authority who works alongside Republic officials and independent operatives to safeguard Telos during a volatile rebuilding period. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Telos IV * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Telos Security Force (TSF) Notable Traits * Competent law enforcement and investigative skills * Practical and straightforward mindset * Strong knowledge of Citadel Station’s criminal activity <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Manaan1Explore>><img src="Portrait/Mical Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Mical">><<replace "#Mical">>Mical <img src="Portrait/Mical Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Jedi Consular, Historian of the Republic, Architect of the New Jedi Order Overview Mical is a scholar and Jedi Consular devoted to restoring the Jedi Order after the devastation of the Jedi Civil War and the Sith Triumvirate. He is known for his deep historical knowledge, diplomatic skill, and his role as a public representative of the renewed Jedi philosophy. His actions are driven by the belief that the Jedi must help heal the galaxy through guidance, knowledge, and cooperation with the Republic. Over time, Mical grows from a Republic historian fascinated by the Jedi into one of the central figures responsible for rebuilding the Order and redefining its role in a recovering galaxy. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Unknown (Republic space) * Faction: Galactic Republic (aligned) * Organization: Jedi Order, Consular Notable Traits * Extensive historical and academic knowledge * Thoughtful and diplomatic temperament * Strong connection to the Force through study and insight History Republic Historian Originally hoping to be a Jedi, Mical was denied membership due to the events of the Mandalorian Wars, so he chose to serve the Galactic Republic as a historian and researcher instead. His fascination with Jedi philosophy and the Force shaped his academic career and eventually drew him into direct contact with the surviving Jedi after the wars. Meeting the Jedi Exile During the aftermath of the Jedi Civil War, Mical encountered Meetra Surik and joined her companions in confronting the Sith Triumvirate. Under her guidance he began formal Jedi training, discovering that his deep intellectual understanding of the Force translated into genuine Force sensitivity. Rebuilding the Jedi Order In the years after the collapse of the Sith Triumvirate, Mical worked across the Republic negotiating with planetary governments to establish new Jedi enclaves and training grounds. Acting as both diplomat and historian, he helped shape the reemerging Jedi Order’s relationship with the Republic, presenting the Jedi as healers and guardians committed to restoring stability to a wounded galaxy. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Revan1NareshaIntel>><img src="Portrait/Naresha Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Naresha">><<replace "#Naresha">>Naresha <img src="Portrait/Naresha Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Revanchist Operative Overview Naresha is a Force-sensitive Revanchist who secretly serves as a covert operative investigating T’Sisaarai activity in the galaxy’s shadows. She has dedicated herself to tracking remnants and experiments tied to the hidden Sith threat. Her actions are driven by loyalty to Revan’s cause and a determination to prevent the Sith from regaining strength in the galaxy. Over time, Naresha becomes one of the few agents quietly battling dark side corruption from within enemy territory, sacrificing her safety and health to weaken Sith influence before it can spread. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Unknown * Faction: None * Organization: Revanchists, Jedi Sentinel Notable Traits * Covert intelligence gathering and infiltration * Quiet determination and resilience * Sensitivity to Dark Side disturbances <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Telos1Explore>><<link "-Rhyssa Vale">><<replace "#Vale">>Rhyssa Vale <img src="Portrait/.png" class="portrait"> Sergeant, Citadel Security (TSF) Overview Rhyssa Vale is a security officer serving as the secondary commanding officer of Citadel Station’s security forces during the restoration of Telos IV. She is known for her disciplined professionalism, tactical awareness in urban environments, and strict adherence to procedure. Her actions are driven by a belief that order and structured systems are the only safeguards against societal collapse. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Core Worlds (heritage) * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Telos Security Force (Citadel Security) Notable Traits * Urban tactical command and investigation * Highly procedural and disciplined mindset * Strong situational awareness and pattern recognition <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Manaan1Warning>><<link "-Shasa, Kono, Llusho">><<replace "#Shasa">>Shasa, Kono, Llusho <img src="Portrait/.png" class="portrait"> Selkath Force-Sensitive Visionaries of Manaan Overview Shasa, alongside her companions Kono and Llusho, are a Selkath Force-sensitives who are known for experiencing shared prophetic visions tied to the fate of Manaan and the wider galaxy. Shasa serves as the voice and leader of the trio, driven by a desire to understand the meaning of their visions and prevent dark forces from corrupting their world. Over time, the three Selkath youths evolve from curious explorers of forbidden knowledge into quiet observers of Manaan’s future, helping warn others of dangers rising beneath the ocean’s depths. Affiliations * Species: Selkath * Homeworld: Manaan * Faction: Selkath * Organization: Jedi Consular Notable Traits * Force sensitivity awakened through the Sith during the Jedi Civil War * Strong prophetic visions connected to Manaan * Shared intuitive bond between the three youths <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<back "Go back">>

HISTORY OF THE T'SISAARAI EMPIRE These records reflect historical information gathered from espionage reports, isolated events, and incomplete records. As such, it should be understood as a reconstruction from partial evidence rather than a definitive account. * [[Origin of the T'Sisaarai->T'Sisaarai Orgin]] * [[Expansion into the Sith Worlds->T'Sisaarai Expansion]] * [[Machinations in the Galaxy->T'Sisaarai Machination]] * [[Jedi Setbacks->T'Sisaarai Setback]] * [[Galactic Invasion->T'Sisaarai Invasion]] T'Sisaarai Caste System * Sith’ari: The ruler of the T’Sisaarai. * Kissai: Secretive priests, deeply rooted in Sith alchemy. The perceived voice of the Nervine, they held high status and power. Their small numbers were no more than a dozen. * Adasii: The elite of Dromund Kaas and the T’Sisaarai Empire, typically holding claim to Adas’ lineage. The true manipulators of Sith culture, directed through prophecies and insights of the Kissai, as well as the architects of T’Sisaarai culture and infrastructure. * Sith Lords: High-ranking Sith admirals that executed on the will of the T’Sisaarai. Their numbers were anywhere from 1-4 Sith Lords at a time. * Dark Lords: Subservient to Sith Lords, these were generals in the Empire, typically owners of resources or cities. * Sith: Common in the T’Sisaarai empire (Sith Purebloods, Massasai). Their societal and economic status directly correlated to how pure their Sith blood was. * Slaves: Sith hybrids or non-Sith species, the slaves were the backbone of the T’Sisaarai, enforced through the Dark Side. Slave uprisings in the Empire were rare and only happened when Dark Lords or Purebloods didn’t subjugate the slaves well enough, which was seen as a critical weakness. <<back "Go back">>

CELESTIAL INVOLVEMENT IN THE GALAXY Most of these records were discovered through spoken legend and myth, fragments from ancient cultures long gone, pieces from the Great Jedi Library on Ossus, Force visions and recent experiences from Jedi Master Meetra Surik. It is unknown how reliable or relevant these records are when factoring in known historical events, but their understood significance deserves a place in libraries that would keep it. -Mical The Peak of the Celestials (~100,000-28,000 BBY) ~100,000 BBY: The beings understood to be the Celestials in the Known Galaxy are active and reach a peak of their architecting power. * Examples include The Corellian System, Centerpoint Station, the Maw Cluster, hyperspace paths. 40,0000-36,000 BBY: Two events initiated by the Celestials bring irrevocable change to the galaxy. * The Rataka were given access to some Celestial technology, spawning the Infinite Empire. The Rataka used the Dark Side of the Force to dominate and bend the galaxy to their will. * Celestials gathered strong Force Sensitives across the galaxy on Tho Yor ships to be transported to Tython, creating the Je’daii Order. This created an isolated area of the galaxy to explore and thrive in the Force. 36,000-25,000 BBY: Over the next few thousand years, the Infinite Empire became a true threat against the Celestials, attempting to usurp their control over the galaxy. * The sheer violence and power of the Infinite Empire destablized the Celestial's galactic efforts, causing major conflicts that broke out. * When the Celestials realized the existential threat of their attackers, most chose to leave the Known Galaxy - either by fleeing to other galaxies, merging with the Force, or to make a stand and be destroyed. Corrupting Power (100,000-28,000 BBY) 28,100 BBY: A young Celestial that had chosen not to leave the Known Galaxy was following the Infinite Empire's attacks, observing their inevitable conflict on Korriban. Wanting to influence a galactic moment in the same way as others of his lineage, the Celestial initiated a Force Vision for the Sith King Adas, showing him a promise of long-term victory. When the Celestial realized great influence it had on the Sith’s victory, this excited and pleased him. * Wanting to follow his success of influence, the Celestial chose to reactivate the deep connection to the Force in Adas’ body during Adas’ burial ceremony. Instead of creating a Dark Force Nexus for the Sith, this had the unintended effect of transforming Adas’ body into a living representation of the Dark Side. * The Father of the Celestial that had done this discovered his Son's meddling in the Force; he forbade his Son from further contact or presence in the Sith, declaring enough damage had been caused by him. 28,000-7,000 BBY: The remaining Celestials chose not to take actions to correct the existence of the Nervine: * The inadverdent creation of a living creation of the dark side was dangerous to any being in the galaxy. Fighting against it would mean certain loss of life. * The Sith (now the T'Sisaarai) were safely isolated from the rest of the galaxy at this point in history and posed no true risk outside of themselves. Comparing the similarities of the Nervine to other failures, they believed the T’Sisaarai would destroy themselves with the Nervine, causing it to devolve into something resembling the Maw Cluster. The remaining Celestials saw this as an acceptable fate. * The expectation that the T’Sisaarai would learn to harness the Nervine was not seriously considered by the remaining Celestials. Direct Approach (7,000-3,945 BBY) 7,000-3,955 BBY: As the First and Second Sith Wars raged in the galaxy, the remaining Celestials considered future action against the existential threat of the Nervine. * As the Celestials exited the galaxy, their hopes and efforts for the Jedi were betrayed; the Jedi failed to identify, defend against and defeat the combined Sith and Nervine threat. * The Father of the Son that created the Nervine shared responsibility for this and other threats to the galaxy, so he and his children had stayed while the other Celestials left. Though direct involvement from a Celestial in the galaxy was certain failure, he considered other ways to influence galactic balance. 3,955-3,944 BBY: At a time of true threat to the Force, the Jedi Meetra Surik emerged from her exile and defeated the Sith Triumvirate. * This gave the Ones a partial hope that the Jedi had not been lost and could still defend the galaxy. * Looking deeper, the Ones found that Meetra's traumatic Wound in the Force caused her to tap directly into the Living Force, unconciously synthesizing the Force to create a Force Convergence Point at will. * 3,944 BBY: At the time of the Nervine threat being fully revealed, the Ones communicated with Meetra directly. Instead of plainly sharing that she (a mortal) is an inflection point in the Force that can make or break the galaxy, they lead her to the truth about herself, so that her power is unlocked at the oppurtune moment. Though it's assumed the few remaining Celestials still exist in the Known Galaxy in some form, we have not seen or heard of any sign of them since the events of the T'Sisaarai Invasion. <<back "Go back">>

These are references & outside-narrative explanations, if anyone is curious. * [[Back-End Reasoning->Back-End Reasoning]] * [[Resources->Resources]] * [[Why the heck did I write all this out->Why the heck did I write all this out]] * Socials **<a href="https://www.reddit.com/user/ForceEchoTracker/submitted/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Reddit</a> **<a href="https://www.instagram.com/thetsisaaraiempire" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Instagram</a> **<a href="https://www.facebook.com/thetsisaaraiempire" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Facebook</a> **<a href="https://x.com/TsisaaraiEmpire" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">X / Twitter</a> * If you want to restart the story completely (resetting all choices): **Go into Save **In the bottom-right corner hit Clear **Back out to the sidebar, hit Restart <<back "Go back">>

BACK-END REASONING Things that didn't fit in the context of the story, that I thought were important to share -Revanchist208 <<link "SW Legends as the Historical Backend">><<replace "#SWlegends">>SW Legends as the Historical Backend This story is fully based and baked in existing Legends continuity. I did my best to keep everything as clean and accurate as possible, because Star Wars nerds love that stuff. Everything that didn’t exist in Legends history is something that came from me. * A small hope - if anyone every reads this and has no idea about deep Legends lore (specifically with the Sith), this would lead them into discovering more about Legends stories. * Anything that could be sourced from Disney Canon is not an intended connection point...more that I was inspired by it (a reverse LucasFilm Story Group decision from 2014 hahaha) I really wanted to make this a fluid continuation & end of both KotOR stories, with pieces of the KotOR comics also thrown in. * I love The Sith Lords story, but I also understand the sludgy darkness and philosophy of that story also turned a lot of people off from it. I tried to elevate that part in this 3rd story by allowing for deep philosophical discussions and moments that specifically focused on finding a way to resolve the darkness, while making the main driver action. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Span of Time between Wars">><<replace "#TimeBetweenWars">>Span of Time between Wars The Vietnam war ended in March 1973. Ronald Regan’s presidency starting January 1981 is seen as the door closing on the horrors of Vietnam & the reintroduction of hope in America again. * It took 1-3 years for Europe to round up enough of the Axis power leadership before they felt confident in moving into a post-war phase. There are parts of the story I used as reference for this. * It took 8 years for America to have faith in its nation rebuilding, some time frame like that should be the gap between KotOR 2 and 3. Fatten up the galaxy for T’Sisaarai invasion. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Kreia's Ultimate Goal">><<replace "#KreiaGoal">>Kreia's Ultimate Goal Kreia’s end goal was to kill the Force. In KotOR 2 it was a ridiculous impossible task, it was easier to consider it a concept more than a real plan. BUT, despite Kreia’s narrow-minded absolutionism, it technically would have prevented the events of KotOR 3 happening * Successfully killing the Force, whether that’s the galaxy or some parts of it, would have created DMZs of safety from the T’Sisaarai, and techncially was a real threat to them. * It can be safely assumed that Kreia knew of the T’Sisaarai (generally calling them the True Sith) but had no true idea of where their power came from. She was manipulated or blocked from the truth like everyone else. <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Go back">>

I started writing this to satisfy my lingering wonder of how KotOR 3 could’ve ended. Star Wars was part of my childhood, and the KotOR games were on their own level in my mind (I almost failed high school finals playing them). I felt like most of the what-ifs for KotOR 3 were fleshed out in forum posts the years following KotOR II’s release. Once the Revan & Old Republic MMO came out, I found the game itself was fun & entertaining, but a distinct lack of satisfaction became solidified with the story that parts of the game & Revan book told. They addressed a lot of Revan-specific things that felt satisfactory & consistent with how the games were leading into things, but I think the quiet frustration it caused was the combination of overextending Revan’s story, while also handicapping Revan’s and (especially) Meetra’s power & agency. Even though it gave a definitive end, that part of KotOR history felt like it ultimately succumbed to plot points, not the True Sith. This dissatisfaction turned into a knot, sat in my stomach and just settled. I could be ok with where the KotOR stories ended up, and I was happy with the stories SWTOR told. Also everything Star Wars post-The Last Jedi made me realize the fan space is best served when you try not to stir up tension as much as possible 😆. 2025 comes around, I’m creating time in my life for me. ChatGPT is a tool that can directly reference all of Star Wars history at my whim. Hmmmmmm…how easy would this be? I wrote out my outline, started asking referential Star Wars questions…and this giant creative drive of settling the what-if’s in my mind took hold. This whole effort has been fulfilling for me, it is a passionate expression of my love for Star Wars, KotOR and everything in sci-fi and fantasy storytelling. I’m just happy to take ideas and concepts from my brain & practically arrange them outside of myself. If you find enjoyment in this, I hope it eases the knot in your stomach too. Hopefully it doesn’t feel like I created these stories and endings through plot points! Disclaimers: * For the sake of simplicity I followed canon endings and direction for mostly everything. Revan is a male, Meetra is a female…there was no way for me to code in custom details like that in a fan-made story with multiple choices/endings, feel free to rewrite it in your mind! **Bao-Dur's ending from KotOR 2 is generally unknown, so I made my own decision with that. * The artwork is meant to evoke the story rooted in previous games. It is not intended to match previous canon imagery. * Yes I used ChatGPT, here’s how: ** AI is the fastest reference tool known to man. Being able to compare facts about planets, characters, events, and get a full answer within 15 seconds is incredible. I cross-referenced 95% of the results with Wookieepedia. ** ChatGPT for the art of each scene. I could create them on my own, but the amount of effort to do that on the level I wanted for a free fan story didn't make it worth it for me. ** When I had fully fleshed out pieces of an outline or scene, I submitted it to ChatGPT to iron out any easy plot holes and improve my delivery. Sometimes I asked ChatGPT Kreia which was fun. There were some parts I had a vision for, but I couldn’t make them not-boring. I did use ChatGPT for spitballing ideas, and then fully wrote & fleshed out the ideas from there. ** In my regular life I’m a musician and tech guy way more than I am a literary author or book writer. All of this started from writing a two-page outline, building out the high-level outline, getting way too deep in mid-level outlines, and using ChatGPT to make sense of it all. Because it's all free fan fiction, I reason that the bar for AI slop is much lower, but I didn't use that as an excuse in the writing process. * Every part of the story was written out in full before I started to publicly post anything, also before Fate of the Old Republic was announced. I'm taking my time posting the full story to foster the luxury of anticipation... and also the amount of time it takes to properly make all of these images and code everything for the site is a lot 😉. <<back "Go back">>

Meetra Surik <img src="Portrait/Meetra Portrait.png" class="portrait"> The Jedi Exile, Jedi Master, Leader of the Restored Jedi * Force Alignment: $MeetraAlignment * Intelligence: $MeetraIntelligence * Wisdom: $MeetraWisdom * Charisma: $MeetraCharisma * Willpower: $MeetraWill Meetra's stats will change as choices are made in the story! Meetra Surik is a Human Jedi Knight known as the Exile, remembered for her role in ending the Sith Triumvirate and helping rebuild the Jedi Order. She is known for her deep connection to Force echoes, leadership in the aftermath of galactic wars, and her ability to endure and understand great wounds in the Force. Her actions are driven by responsibility and lingering guilt over the destruction of Malachor V. Over time, she transforms from a disgraced exile into one of the guiding leaders of the Jedi’s renewal and the Republic’s fragile peace. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Unknown (Republic space) * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Jedi Order, Consular Notable Traits * Force Echo Perception * Resilient and reflective leader * Ability to sense and interpret disturbances and wounds in the Force History <<link "Early Days (3995–3976 BBY)">><<replace "#EarlyDays">>Early Days (3995–3976 BBY) Meetra Surik trained as a Jedi at the Dantooine Enclave, studying under several masters including Kavar and Vima Sunrider. During her training she displayed an unusual sensitivity to relationships within the Force, particularly the ability to create or sever connections between beings. Her teachers warned her to remain mindful of this rare aptitude. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Jedi General (3978–3960 BBY)">><<replace "#JediGeneral">>Jedi General (3978–3960 BBY) 3976–3960 BBY: The Mandalorian Wars When the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders began devastating the Outer Rim, Meetra struggled between obedience to the Jedi Council and her compassion for the Republic’s suffering worlds. She ultimately followed the call to war alongside Revan and Alek. Her first command came during the Second Battle of Dxun, where she led Republic forces in a brutal assault on a Mandalorian stronghold. The victory came at severe cost, forcing her to sacrifice many soldiers to achieve the objective. As the war continued, Meetra rose to become one of Revan’s most trusted generals. Her leadership and strategic victories earned both fear and respect from the Mandalorians. 3960 BBY: Malachor V In the war’s final confrontation, Revan lured the Mandalorian fleet to Malachor V. While Revan engaged Mandalore the Ultimate in single combat, Meetra prepared the Republic’s ultimate weapon - the Mass Shadow Generator. When the Mandalorian fleet was drawn into position, Meetra ordered the weapon activated. The generator crushed fleets from both sides and shattered Malachor’s surface, ending the war. The destruction created a catastrophic Wound in the Force within Malachor V. Overwhelmed by the suffering and death surrounding her, Meetra unconsciously severed her connection to the Force and absorbed the echo of the devastation, unknowingly becoming a Living Wound within it. The battle ended the Mandalorian Wars, but left tens of millions dead, and the survivors scarred by the conflict. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Exile & Return (3959–3951 BBY)">><<replace "#ExileReturn">>Exile & Return (3959–3951 BBY) 3959–3958 BBY: The Trial of the Exile After the war, Meetra returned to Coruscant and faced judgment before the Jedi Council. They declared her an exile, interpreting her severed connection to the Force as a dangerous anomaly. She accepted their ruling without protest and departed the Republic. She was the only Jedi from the Mandalorian Wars to face such judgment. Many others followed Revan and Alek instead, later becoming Sith during the Jedi Civil War. 3957–3951 BBY: Years of Silence During the Jedi Civil War, Meetra lived in obscurity far from the Republic, surviving as a drifter and mercenary. Cut off from the Force, she avoided involvement in galactic events. 3951 BBY: Out of Exile Manipulated by Atris and drawn back into galactic affairs, Meetra returned to the Known Galaxy. She was immediately hunted by Darth Sion and escaped aboard the Ebon Hawk, unaware it had once belonged to Revan. Seeking answers, she searched for the Jedi Council that exiled her, encountering a mysterious mentor named Kreia. As she gradually reconnected with the Force, Meetra discovered she could perceive and influence Force echoes - resonances created by powerful events or suffering. The few surviving Jedi Masters eventually revealed they had exiled her to study the strange wound she represented. Fearful of its implications, they attempted to sever her from the Force permanently. Kreia then revealed herself as Darth Traya, killing the Council and setting her final plan into motion. Traya intended to use Meetra’s nature as a living wound to destroy the Force itself at Malachor V. Meetra instead rallied her allies and confronted the Sith Triumvirate. She defeated Darth Nihilus at Telos IV, overcame Darth Sion on Malachor, and finally defeated Darth Traya in the Trayus Core. In her final moments, Traya acknowledged that Meetra’s strength lay not in destruction, but in the connections she forged with others. After these events, Meetra chose to follow Revan’s path into the Unknown Regions, departing aboard the Ebon Hawk with T3-M4. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Searching & Second Return (3950–3945 BBY)">><<replace "#SearchingReturn">>Searching & Second Return (3950–3945 BBY) 3950–3948 BBY: A Hollow Search Meetra traveled through the Unknown Regions searching for Revan and the hidden Sith threat he had warned about. She explored abandoned stations, dead worlds, and forgotten systems. She encountered scattered cult remnants and survivors of the Sith Triumvirate, but none posed a true threat. Instead she found ruined outposts and silent worlds with no answers. The emptiness of the Unknown Regions slowly eroded her certainty. Without a clear enemy or trail to follow, doubt crept into her mission. 3948–3945 BBY: Penitence Meetra eventually returned to the galaxy, choosing to put her efforts to something that showed more value than her search in the Unknown Regions. The Jedi Order, led in part by Mical, had begun rebuilding through small enclaves and new students. The Republic was slowly recovering under renewed leadership, working to restore war-torn worlds. Meanwhile, no new Sith threat had emerged since the fall of the Triumvirate. Seeing the fragile recovery of the galaxy, Meetra chose to aid its healing rather than continue an aimless search. Working with the Republic and Mical, she helped establish the Jedi Restoration Accords, outlining how the Jedi would assist in rebuilding and stabilizing the galaxy. Despite her return, Meetra avoided formal titles and positions of authority. She continued to see herself less as a leader and more as someone seeking redemption for the consequences of her past.<</replace>><</link>> <<back "Go back">>

REVAN <img src="Portrait/Revan Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Savior, conqueror, hero, villain * Force Alignment: $RevanAlignment * Intelligence: $RevanIntelligence * Wisdom: $RevanWisdom * Charisma: $RevanCharisma * Willpower: $RevanWill Revan's stats will change as choices are made in the story! Revan is a Human Force-user whose life spans the roles of Jedi Knight, Sith Lord, and redeemed champion of the Republic. He is known for their strategic brilliance, leadership during the Mandalorian Wars, and the rise and fall of his Sith Empire. His actions are driven by a relentless pursuit of threats to the galaxy and a belief that decisive action is necessary to preserve the Republic. Over time, Revan’s journey carries them from celebrated Jedi to Dark Lord of the Sith, and ultimately to redemption after defeating Darth Malak and dismantling the Sith Empire they created. After the end of the Jedi Civil War, Revan disappeared into the Unknown Regions to confront the hidden Sith threat he believes still endangers the galaxy. Affiliations * Species: Human * Homeworld: Unknown (Outer Rim) * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Jedi Order, Sentinel Notable Traits * Master strategist and military commander * Independent and questioning of authority * Exceptional mastery of the Force, capable of balancing light and dark influences History <<link "Early Days (3994–3978 BBY)">><<replace "#Early">> Early Days (3994–3978 BBY) 3994 BBY: The Child of the Outer Rim Identified as Force-sensitive, he was taken by the Jedi Order at a young age. Even in childhood he displayed exceptional intelligence, charisma, and a powerful connection to the Force, quickly standing apart from his peers. 3980s BBY: Training Under the Jedi Order He trained at the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine, where his talents in lightsaber combat, military strategy, and Force philosophy became widely recognized. During this time he adopted the name Revan, distancing himself from his original identity. He developed a close friendship and rivalry with Alek, another gifted Jedi student. Though admired by many Jedi Masters, Revan’s tendency to question doctrine and resist restraint created unease within the Order. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Hero (3978–3960 BBY)">><<replace "#Hero">>Hero (3978–3960 BBY) 3978–3976 BBY: Mandalorian Raids and Early Investigation As Mandalorian forces began raiding the Outer Rim, Revan urged the Jedi Council to intervene. The Council chose restraint, believing patience and non-intervention to be the proper path. Revan, Alek, and other Jedi investigated the attacks themselves. Through Force visions they witnessed the genocide of the Cathar, an atrocity that hardened Revan’s resolve to act. From this moment forward, he wore a Mandalorian mask recovered from the battlefield as a symbol of the Cathar who had died resisting the invaders. 3976–3975 BBY: The Revanchists Defying the Council’s orders, Revan publicly rallied Jedi Knights and Padawans to his cause. These followers became known as the Revanchists, fighting alongside Republic border defenders in early conflicts against Mandalorian forces, earning both admiration and fear for their effectiveness. 3975–3960 BBY: Revan Leads Republic Forces The Mandalorian conflict escalated into a full-scale war. With the Republic desperate for leadership, the Senate unofficially recognized Revan as Supreme Commander of Republic forces. While the Jedi Council continued to refuse official endorsement, Revan led the Republic through a series of decisive campaigns, turning the tide of the war through bold strategy and relentless offense. 3960 BBY: Malachor V Revan’s final strategy lured the Mandalorian fleet to Malachor V. Revan defeated Mandalore the Ultimate in single combat, drawing the Mandalorian fleet into range, and gave the order to Meetra Surik to activate Mass Shadow Generator, crushing ships from both the Mandalorian and Republic fleets and shattering the planet’s surface. The battle ended the Mandalorian Wars at terrible cost. Tens of millions died, and the devastation left lasting scars across the galaxy. Revan’s victory cemented his legend. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Conqueror (3960–3956 BBY)">><<replace "#Conqueror">>Conqueror (3960–3956 BBY) 3960–3959 BBY: Descent into the Unknown Following the war, Revan and Alek departed into the Unknown Regions, pursuing the hidden power he believed had influenced the Mandalorians. There they encountered the Sith and fell under its shadow. Returning to known space as Darth Revan and Darth Malak, they began preparing the galaxy for conquest. 3959–3956 BBY: The Jedi Civil War Using the ancient superweapon known as the Star Forge, the Sith Lords waged war against the Republic. Darth Revan reshaped the conflict with ruthless efficiency, conquering worlds, breaking Jedi resistance, and forging the Republic’s territory into his growing Sith Empire. In 3957 BBY, during a Jedi assault on his flagship, Malak betrayed Revan by firing on his master’s vessel. Revan was captured by Bastila Shan and the Jedi Council. The Council erased Revan’s memories and gave him a new identity as a Republic soldier, hoping the former Sith Lord could be redeemed and unknowingly lead them to the source of the Sith fleet. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Savior (3956-3955 BBY)">><<replace "#Savior">>Savior (3956-3955 BBY) 3956 BBY: The Redeemed Jedi With his memories gone, Revan traveled the galaxy aboard the Ebon Hawk alongside Bastila Shan, Carth Onasi, and other companions, believing himself to be a newly discovered Force-sensitive soldier searching for ancient Star Maps. During his journey, Revan rediscovered fragments of his past. When confronted by Darth Malak, his past identity returned to his memory. Rather than reclaim his Sith mantle, he chose redemption. Revan ultimately defeated Malak aboard the Star Forge, destroying the superweapon and ending the Jedi Civil War. The Republic hailed him as its savior, though the full truth of his past remained known only to a few. 3955 BBY: Disappearance As Revan’s memories continued to return, he became haunted by the Sith threat he felt still waited in the Unknown Regions. With little warning to his closest friends, he left the galaxy with his trusted droid T3-M4 in the Ebon Hawk. <</replace>><</link>> <<if $Revan1TravelToKnownSpace>>[[Legend (3955–3945 BBY)->RevanJournaul]]<</if>> <<back "Go back">>

DATAPAD This datapad holds historical records of the galaxy recovered by Jedi Master MEETRA SURIK and her companions. As they journey across the galaxy, the confirmed historical information uncovered will be added to these records. For historical accounts of legend not found in this datapad, please consult the <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Main_Page" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Galactic Library</a> * [[Story Checkpoints->Checkpoints]] * [[Holonet News->Holonet]] * [[Legends, Heroes and Allies->Heroes]] * [[Villans and Enemies->Villans]] * [[Starships->Starships]] * [[History->History]] * [[Notes->Notes]] <<back "Go back">>

HISTORY OF THE MANDALORIANS Origin and Buildup (~24,000-4,000 BBY) 24,000 BBY: The first Mandalorians came from a species called the Taung * The Taung were a gray-skinned warrior species driven from Coruscant after a long war with the Battalions of Zhell. They migrated to a planet world they named Mandalore, after their war-leader Mandalore the First. * The Taung adapted their code of conquest and strength - the Resol’nare - into a full warrior creed. Their culture blended martial ritual, clan loyalty, and survival through battle. * Under Mandalore the First, they waged wars of unification across the Outer Rim, forging the first Mandalorian Crusaders. 7,000 – 5,000 BBY: Rise of the Crusaders * Over millennia the Taung reshaped themselves into a multi-species warrior people. Any who embraced the code could earn armor and clan, transforming the Mandalorians from a species into a culture. * The Mandalorians fought the early Republic and the Jedi in scattered conflicts, honing a religion of war that prized the hunt and the proving of strength over peace. The Neo-Crusader Age (3,996 – 3,960 BBY) 3,996 – 3,976 BBY: Rise of Mandalore the Ultimate * After Mandalore the Indomitable’s death to the beasts of Dxun, leadership passed to Mandalore the Ultimate, who began rebuilding Mandalorian might from Dxun’s jungles. * Mandalore reorganized his warriors into the Neo-Crusaders, unified under strict command and blue armor plates symbolizing order in conquest. * Unknown to them, Sith agents of the hidden T’Sisaarai Empire influenced Mandalore the Ultimate through dark-side manipulation via the Nervine, planting the seeds of a galactic crusade. 3,976 – 3,960 BBY: The Mandalorian Wars * The Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders began with border raids on Republic territory, including the near-genocide of the Cathar people, moving to planetary occupations and orbital bombardment. * When the Jedi entered the war - led by Revan and Alek - Republic forces acheived victory through brutal campaigns culminating in the Battle of Malachor V, annihilating both fleets through the Mass Shadow Generator. * Revan slew Mandalore the Ultimate in single combat and took his mask, ending the wars. * [[Battles of the Mandalorian wars->Mandalorian War]] Aftermath and Redemption (3,960 – 3,945 BBY) 3,960 – 3,956 BBY: Exile of the Conquerors * Following Malachor V, Revan hid Mandalore's mask, keeping the Mandalorians from choosing and following a new leader. This shattered the unity of the Mandalorians, forcing them into exile, mercenary work and fighting amongst themselves. * Canderous Ordo, a veteran commander of the Mandalorian Wars, met a newly redeemed Revan on Taris. He fought alongside him throughout the Jedi Civil War, witnessing Revan’s redemption and the defeat of Darth Malak at the Star Forge. 3,956 – 3,951 BBY: Reunification * Following their victory over Darth Malak, Revan tasked Canderous Ordo to reunite the Mandalorian clans. He began operating from the Mandalorian outpost on Dxun * Canderous and his Mandalorians assisted Meetra Surik in the defeat of Darth Nihilus at The Battle of Telos IV. 3,951 BBY – 3,945: Return to Mandalore * Canderous Ordo continued to rebuild Mandalorian honor, migrating warriors back to Mandalore to restore its ruins and reforging the forges of Keldabe. His code emphasized restraint and pride born of hard defeat. While respecting the Jedi Exile Meetra, he distrusted the Republic, vowing Mandalorians would fight for their own glory, not another’s cause. <<back "Go back">>

HISTORICAL ACCOUNTS For historical accounts of legend not found in this datapad, please consult the <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Main_Page" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Galactic Library</a> * [[Jedi History->Jedi History]] * Mandalorian History * Known T'Sisaarai History * Otherworldly Involvement in the Galaxy <<back "Go back">>

T'SISAARAI - Orgin King Adas’ Death (28,100-27,769 BBY) 28,100 BBY: Adas, a pureblood Sith, was born with dark skin that grew into a large frame. * He was seen as a chosen being, and his other qualities (intelligence, combat, Sith magic) allowed him to unite the distant Sith nations and tribes of Korriban, becoming the Sith King (precursor to the Sith'ari, Dark Lord of the Sith): they saw Adas as their god. 27,770 BBY: The Infinite Empire attempted to invade Korriban. King Adas used all of his resources and willpower to drive the Rataka back, joining his Sith soldiers. * Adas’ rage and vengeance against the Rataka, whom he originally saw as potential allies, burned deeply inside his bones, drawing him closer into the Dark Side. * In the final battle he had a vision of his Sith empire expanding to the surrounding planets of Korriban, and out into the galaxy. * Having already fully exerted himself (Adas’ physical exhaustion, the adrenaline of a Force Vision, and overexertion of Sith sorcery), Adas was struck with a mortal blow to his side in the final battle. As he saw the last Rataka flee, he died an honorable death for his Sith kingdom. 27,769 BBY: Adas was buried on Dromund Kaas’ moon, Dromani (Seed of Dromund), in gold ceremonial armor. * As the Kissai (Sith High Priests) used Sith magic outside the temple to consecrate it, a golden light burst through the temple, followed by an earthquake that consumed all living beings on Dromani. Deep in the core of the moon, Adas’ body had changed into a balooned pulsing mass of dark force nexus, with immense psychological energy. Golden and black vines stretched from the nexus, anchoring it to the satellite. * A dark presence through the Force reached out through the Force to Korriban, commanding them to come to Dromani. Most of the Sith that heeded the call lost their minds as they touched the jungle surface. * The insane Sith spoke of a presence pressing into their minds, slowly invading control of their physical body, until they writhed on the floor foaming at the mouth. They felt something within the Force corrupting their mind without end. * The Kissai were able to pierce through the chaos in the Force. They came to understand what had been done to King Adas, transforming him into a manifest will of the Dark Side, with powers in the Force greater than any nexus they had seen. Through Sith rituals, the Kissai connected with the remains of King Adas, creating actions and events in the real world through the Dark Side. Believing that the prophecy of the Sith’ari had come true, they called this nexus the Nervine, a potent Dark Side alchemy manifest that dominated living things, leaving deep scars of fear. * The Sith culture that directly served the Nervine called themselves the T’Sisaarai - the True Sith. Fall of the Infinite Empire (27,765-25,200 BBY) The Kissai use the Nervine to cause the collapse of the Infinite Empire * The T’Sisaarai wanted vengeance for what the Rataka had done to their Sith’ari. As the Infinite Empire continued its galactic domination, the T’Sisaarai learned how to use the Nervine to directly manipulate objects through the Force. * Because Star Forge technology was infused by the Dark Side, the Nervine caused the accelerated corruption of the Rataka by redirecting part of its energy input from Lehon’s sun Abo to the Forge’s operators. * The deadly plague that cut off the Ratakans from the Force was caused by the Nervine tampering with Ratakan Infinity Gates, realigning frequencies of the gate to negatively impact Rataka biology. * Though the hidden manipulations of the Nervine was unknown in the Infinite Empire's collapse, the T'Sisaarai counted this as their first victory and created a manifest destiny for the Sith Empire. The T'Sisaarai find limits to their unlimited power in the Dark Side * While the Rataka were brought down because of their exclusive use of the Dark Side, the Galactic Republic that replaced them did not use the Force, or were Jedi that pulled from the Light Side. This greatly limited the T’Sisaarai’s power through the Nervine. * To protect their power, the Kissai encased Dromund Kaas and its moon in a pervasive miasma of the Dark Side, ensuring anyone who came close to the moon would be quickly corrupted by the Nervine. * The T’Sisaarai became a legend spoken in whispers, allowing them the luxury of patience over the centuries, creating their hidden empire and culture on the planet and moon. <<back "Go back">>

T'SISAARAI - Expansion into the Sith Worlds Sith Unity (25,200-7,000 BBY) The T’Sisaarai built up their empire within the Sith Worlds, perfecting their control of the Dark Side in their isolation. * Ziost became the new Sith homeworld, leaving Korriban to its tombs and Sith cults. * The Dromani moon was defined as holy land, with the planet of Dromund Kaas used as the T’Sisaarai homeworld. * Limited by their technical capabilities, the Nervine informed on galactic events it could see. This gave the Kissai limited awareness of galactic forces like the Republic and Jedi, whom they saw as potential rivals and conquests. Their isolation from the galaxy kept the Sith hidden as well as the Jedi out of reach from them. * Despite defeating the Infinite Empire, T'Sisaarai agents were never able to locate Rataka Prime or the Star Forge. Going too far out into the galaxy would cause agents to be lost in space, or discovered by others, causing them to commit seppuku to concel their existence. The Nervine was also not able to find the planet or weapon through the Force, since the disease that destroyed the Rataka also cut them off from the Force. * 7,000 BBY: The T’Sisaarai began to test their limits through the Nervine through Dathka Graush’s reign on Korriban and his undead army, disguising the Nervine’s power as <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tsaiwinokka_Hoyakut" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Tsaiwinokka Hoyakut</a> alchemy. Introduction to the Larger Galaxy (6,900-3,997 BBY) 6,900 BBY: Dark Jedi upset the isolated power of the T’Sisaarai * At the end of the <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Hundred-Year_Darkness/Legends" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Hundred-Year Darkness</a>, the exiled Jedi led by Ajunta Pall arrived on Korriban, quickly subjugating the primitive Sith. They were given the titles of Dark Lord. * This sudden change of non-Sith species becoming Dark Lords caused schisms in the Sith Empire. While Korriban and Ziost came to accept the new power of these Dark Jedi, some T’Sisaarai believed the exiled Jedi would bring weakness to the Sith species and disrupt their centuries-long plans. Others saw potential in the corrupted Jedi being “new blood”. * Instead of addressing the schisms, the Kissai redirected Sith anger at the sudden threat of the Jedi, using this as a catalyst to fully mobilize the Sith Empire. This decision came from Kissai confidence, too assured by seeing Force visions that guaranteed their future success. 5,000 BBY: <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Great_Hyperspace_War/Legends" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Great Hyperspace War</a> was a Kissai failure in remotely directing conquests through the Nervine * Sith purebloods were overwhelmingly sacrificed more than Dark Jedi, creating a panic of genocide. * Sith Lords became reactive, causing tension. Each failure exposed the galaxy to more to the Sith, threatening their secret strongholds. Each failure questioned the success of what the T’Sisaarai had worked millenia for. 4,999-3,999 BBY: During the <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Starbreaker_12" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Starbreaker 12</A>’s impoundment on Ziost, the T’Sisaarai were able to observe a Class 5 Hyperdrive well enough to reverse engineer it for their own uses, allowing for covert galactic exploration. * Scouts were sent to map the known galaxy, noting planetary systems of power and conflict. * Pieces of Rataka technology in the galaxy were rediscovered and brought back to Dromund Kaas, allowing the T’Sisaarai to create their own versions of Star Forges, ships and weapons. * The Kissai through the Nervine created dark force nexuses that opened Dark Side doors in the Force. 3,998-3,997 BBY: During the <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Freedon_Nadd_Uprising" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Freedon Nadd Uprising</a> and <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Great_Sith_War/Legends" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Great Sith War</a>, Exar Kun’s rise to Sith prominence was a direct assault on the T’Sisaarai. * The whoring of Exar Kun’s title of Sith, his disrespectful use of Sith alchemy, and genocide of the Massassi illicited a sudden and violent reaction. These betrayals directly opposed the galactic invasion they were still amassing resources for, and the T’Sisaarai were hungry for blood. Tenebrae’s Coup (3,997 BBY) Tenebrae, an old Kissai priest and pureblood Sith, took fate into his own hands in an effort to bring resilient focus to his people; he orchestrated a murderous coup against the other Kissai and his enemies - leaving him the only one that could communicate with the Nervine. * Before Tenebrae’s actions, the Nervine had been led by the collective council of Kissai priests, who handled disputes collectively - a rare but hard fought balance within the T’Sisaarai. * After usurping the priesthood, Tenebrae was viewed as the new Sith’ari to the T’Sisaarai. * Tenebrae went farther into the Sith rituals, coming into physical contact with the Nervine and bonding directly to it. This symbiosis caused Tenebrae’s vendettas to imprint on the Nervine, pulling it more into his will & hatred of the T'Sisaarai's enemies, and the need for constant secrecy from the galaxy. <<back "Go back">>

T'SISAARAI - Machinations in the Galaxy The Mandalorian Wars (3,978-3,960 BBY) 3978 BBY: Tenebrae masterfully instigated galactic wars without a drop of Sith blood shed. * Sith scouts identified the Mandalorians as primed and hungry for a war campaign. Tenebrae orchestrated a Sith pureblood to find Mandalore the Ultimate and bring him to a Sith tomb, which was a Dark Side nexus. Once they arrived to the tomb, Tenebrae manipulated Mandalore the Ultimate through the Nervine to launch a crusade against the Republic and Jedi order. * This was the first indirect attack outside of the Sith Empire that the Nervine had attempted, and it proved successful; Mandalore’s mind was susceptible to suggestion, allowing the Nervine’s Force Domination continued up until Mandalore’s final breaths. * The T’Sisaarai saw this as a second coming of the events that brought the collapse of the Infinite Empire. This time the Sith would be ready to take full advantage of their conquest - with galactic invasion! 3961 BBY: The Jedi Revan stumbled onto Malachor V, learning of the Sith’s continued existence and the power of the Trayus Academy. * The T’Sisaarai stayed hidden, choosing to let Revan focus on other proxy Sith locations instead of Dromund Kaas. * Revan, already struggling with the moral compromises of war, stepping onto a planet so strong in the Dark Side of the Force allowed the Nervine to plant seeds of influence into his mind, opening the path for his fall to the Dark Side. 3960 BBY: The cataclysm of Malachor V gave the T’Sisaarai a clear vision of how to invade the galaxy. * The destruction of lives, cultures and planets in the war sent Dark Side echoes throughout the galaxy on a level unseen by the Sith before. * Each echo was a door for the Nervine to gain power, subtly influencing beings and environments, keeping efforts and thoughts anchored in the Dark Side. * Revan and Malak, the Heroes of the Mandalorian War, had been irrevocably turned to the Dark Side, their thoughts and souls roped into the Nervine. Instead of opponents, the Nervine had turned them into unknowing T’Sisaarai Acolytes. * Tenebrae ensured through the Nervine that the Trayus Academy on Malachor V was protected, seeing it as a stronghold for Sith conversions. This was another proof of what the Nervine could control; the physical attributes of Dark Side nexuses could be controlled and manipulated during intense events like battle. Jedi Civil War (3,959-3,956 BBY) 3959 BBY:The T’Sisaarai win their greatest fighters in their Dark War. * After the Battle of Malachor V, Revan and Malak followed the story shared in Mandalore’s last breaths to Rekkaid, which led him to Dromund Kaas. Dark space stations orbited the planet, resembling Star Forges. Revan chose to land on the orbiting moon to keep their arrival inconspicuous. * Once Revan and Malak set foot on Dromani (the planet’s moon), the Nervine wrapped its golden and black vines around them. Revan and Malak’s minds were instantly dominated, turning them fully to the Dark Side. No sabers were drawn, no words exchanged - the light in the Heroes were snuffed out. * Tenebrae sent Darth Revan and Darth Malak as the new Dark Lords of the Sith, fully in the Nervine’s control, to rediscover and prepare the long-abandoned original Star Forge on Lehon for a coordinated invasion that would attack the galaxy on its western and northeastern fronts. <<back "Go back">>

T'SISAARAI - Jedi Setbacks Defiance (3,959-3,957 BBY) 3959 BBY:The corrupted Darth Revan and Darth Malak journeyed far from the reaches of the Nervine (14,000 lightyears), stretching the Nervine’s reach. Once Darth Revan found Rataka Prime and began to understand the history of the Rataka, Revan’s willpower and the distance between him and Dromund Kaas allowed Revan to break through the Force Domination of the Nervine. * While the connection was broken, Revan was still consumed by the Dark Side, leading him to start the Jedi Civil War with Darth Malak. * Though this was a setback, Tenebrae had accounted for this resistance, reasoning that this was effectively a Part II of the Mandalorian Wars and would cause more damage against a weakened Republic and Jedi. * Darth Revan did retain knowledge of the T’Sisaarai - but his arrogance and enhanced powers caused him to justify his actions, claiming that they were preparing for a larger war. This was seen by the Republic and Jedi as deluded propaganda, causing doubt of a real threat beyond Darth Revan. 3957 BBY: As the reborn Revan began fighting back against Darth Malak’s Sith, this became the first known act of successful defiance against the Nervine. The destruction of the Lehon Star Forge was felt by the T’Sisaarai through the Force and nearly caused an uprising against Tenebrae…had he not had been in control of the Nervine. * Tenebrae, the current Sith’ari, godlike in power, was starting to fail in health and consciousness. The once wise and tactful Kissai Priest had bonded himself too deeply to the Nervine, ignoring the Sith rituals conducted with other Kissai priests that kept them safe from the perilous fate that he was slowly falling into. It threatened to consume him wholly. * Because of Tenebrae’s hubris during the Great Sith War, there was no one to replace him when he eventually passed. He had assumed that he could achieve immortality by bonding with the Nervine, but the toll of orchestrating the Dark Wars took more than he thought it would. 3956 BBY: In preparation of the coming invasion, Tenebrae made several strategic moves * Tenebrae chose two High T’Sisaarai - Lords Veluthar and Zael - to represent him in his leadership of the T’Sisaarai, as he became more reclusive over time. They were collectively referred to as the Sith’ari (plural). While these Lords commanded power and a following, in reality they had been fully possessed by the Nervine to keep Tenebrae in control. * The T’Sisaarai visited Dathomir, relocating the remains of an ancient Infinity Gate to Dromund Kaas. * The T’Sisaarai covertly set an outpost on Byss, an old Infinite Empire planet in the galactic core. While a natural Dark Side nexus, the planet also hosted a second Infinity Gate. Dark Wars (3,957-3,946 BBY) 3957-3951 BBY: With the T’Sisaarai on the edge of rebellion and Tenebrae’s declining health, the Sith’ari orchestrated new covert attacks to keep the galaxy crippled: * The Sith Triumvirate - Darth Traya, Darth Nihilus, Darth Sion - were empowered by the Nervine to conduct a shadow war against the Jedi, eventually bringing the number of ~150 surviving Jedi down to just 7, all forced into hiding or exile. * More echoes in the Force were created, such as the eradication of Katarr, opening new doors for the Nervine to use. 3951 BBY: Due to unrestrained conflict, Kreia (previously Traya) became a threat to the T’Sisaarai as she intended to kill the Force; Meetra Surik defeated her and the rest of the Triumvirate. * From these events, Tenebrae learned that Meetra was a presence in the Force the Nervine could not see at all. This was an anomaly: even if an individual wasn’t pulling from the Dark Side, the Nervine would see faint signatures of their movements - Meetra somehow evaded this tracking. 3951-3946 BBY: Tenebrae wisely enforced a period of restraint from T’Sisaarai activity outside of Dromund Kaas. This allowed the galaxy to believe enough time had passed for the True Sith’s defeat to be proven, setting up the galaxy for a metaphorical pig butchering. * Tenebrae was still aware of Revan’s actions to locate the T’Sisaarai, but misdirected him when he started to get close, causing a Dark Side feedback loop in Revan. * As Revan’s broken memory began to return, he influenced Revan to believe the Sith threat came from the Unknown Regions, assuming Lehon was at the gate of a Sith Empire. This caused Revan to search on the wrong side of the galaxy, keeping him out of reach of the T’Sisaarai. This caused immense psychological torture with Revan’s psyche. * The T’Sisaarai rallied their forces and primed their machines of war, with Lord Veluthar being the admiral of the planned invasion. <<back "Go back">>

T'SISAARAI - Galactic Invasion First Shots (3,945 BBY) 3,945 BBY: The long-awaited and long-overdue T’Sisaarai invasion of the galaxy was launched through two separate attacks: * The T’Sisaarai connected the Infinity Gates on Dromund Kaas and Lehon, purposely overloading Lehon’s gate output. This act unloaded a devastating and catastrophic energy overload, cracking Rataka Prime open & destroying it. This was a purposeful act of violence; the T’Sisaarai were born from the ashes of the Infinite Empire, and contributed to its downfall. Destroying the homeworld and remnants of their oppressors symbolized their full victory and inheriting of the Ratakan galactic domination mantle. * The Nervine, using the planet Byss, covers the entire planet in a Force Storm, concealing the surface from view or scans, hiding the Infinity Gate. Once the Storm is formed, the Nervine used it to emanated a simultaneous pulse, effectively using echolocation on a galactic scale to every Dark Force nexus it could connect to. This gave the Nervine an extended moment of full awareness across the entire galaxy. The effect of this pulse resulted in Force Distortions being experienced by Force-sensitive beings across the galaxy, alerting them to an unknown danger. * Lord Veluthar chose to seek the Jedi Master Meeetra Surik out to eliminate the danger she brought as an absence to the Nervine. His first intention was to kill her when he found her on Dantooine, but quickly grew to regret this as tMeetra quickly harnessed a Wound in the Force against him, redirecting his Force Distortion attack. Not prepared for a battle, Veluthar fled the scene. Open War (3,945-3,944 BBY) 3,945 BBY: Lord Veluthar successfully performed Force Drain on all living beings on the planet of Tython, mirroring Darth Nihilus’ attempt. * In addition to the massive surge of panic and fear this caused the galaxy, this energy was stored and transferred to the Nervine, amping up its energy resources for the war. * This attack was also intended to kill the Jedi that followed Meetra Surik; all but one escaped at the last moment. 3,945-3,944 BBY: The T’Sisaarai plant and engage in attacks against the galaxy, gaining ground and resources, often clashing with the Jedi and Alliance factions. * T’Sisaarai agents attempt to influence the Mandalorian Cassus Fett to sow discourse and rebellion within the Mandalorians on Dxun * Onderon’s long history of dark side corruption offered easy access to turn them inward to distrust and chaos. When Meetra Surik arrived in Iziz to quell a sensed conflict, Tenebrae used the Nervine to emulate the spirit of Freedon Nadd, but was unsuccessful in overtaking the Iziz throne and subjugating Onderon. * Sporadic possession attacks against the Jedi and Alliance warriors. * Covering the planet Byss in a Force Storm while Sith prepare the Infinity Gate. * Manipulation of Arkanian experiments, causing Dark Side nexuses to form in their experiments. * Using a giant Hssiss dragon to kill an exiled Kissai priest, almost killing Jedi. 3,944 BBY: Lord Zael traps Revan and his companions on Ziost. Penetrating Revan’s mind, Zael is able to share the Jedi’s attempts to stop the T’Sisaarai invasion: * While the Heroes are inspired and driven to stop the T’Sisaarai, they didn’t know where attacks are coming from. They haven’t found a weapon or capability to successfully fight the Nervine. * Though resistant to Nervine influence, Zael is able to discourage Revan, making room for the Nervine to influence him through the Dark Side again. Shortly after Revan’s escape, Tenebrae and the Nervine feel a shift in the Cosmic Force, causing Tenebrae to speed up his invasion plan. * The Nervine pushes through Dark Side nexuses, its corruption becoming visible through gold and black vines. * The Nervine establishes its physical presence within and in proximity of Dark Side nexuses. * T’Sisaarai attacks become more brazen and aggressive. The Breakpoint (3,944 BBY) 3,944 BBY: Tenebrae times for the launch of the full-scale invasion fleet to occur at the time of the Republic voting on joining the Alliance (made up of Jedi, Mandalorians and mercenaries) * Connecting the new Infinity Gate on Dromund Kaas to the gate on Byss, the T’Sisaarai invasion fleet crosses 30,000 lightyears in moments, catching their enemies unawares. * The T’Sisaarai plan their first takeover to be Tython, symbolically dominating the birthplace of the Jedi in the same way they dominated their oppressor’s homeworld (Rataka Prime). This attack is met with stiff resistance as the Alliance was tipped off to the approaching invading fleet. * Tenebrae through the Nervine quickly discovers the Jedi have learned a new Force power that somehow blocks Nervine attacks on a macro scale, as well as cleaning corruption from victims. Tenebrae orders The T’Sisaarai are stronger and more tactical thanks to the Nervine - but a portion of the Alliance led by the Jedi break out of the battle; the Jedi somehow discovered Byss was using an Infinity Gate linked directly to the T’Sisaarai homeworld. * The Jedi and a share of the Alliance fleet travel through the Byss Infinity Gate into Dromund Kaas, surprising the T”Sisaarai, forcing them to shift to defense on their homeworld. This surprise 2nd front of the battle quickly changes as the Jedi and Alliance move to Dromani, Dromund Kaas’ moon and where the Nervine resides - a holy land. * Mandalore’s ship conducts a suicide run to break open the moon and greatly injure the Nervine, causing its control and actions to be weakened. Though the T’Sisaarai were prepared, they were ultimately defeated once the Jedi stepped foot on Dromani. * T’Sisaarai Warriors and Assassins led by Lord Moruun, Lord Veluthar and Lord Zael were not able to stop the Jedi from approaching the Nervine. * As a last resort Tenebrae used the Nervine to physically transform himself into a current day King Adas, but even this level of power and effort could not stop the Jedi. * The Jedi used their combined power in the Force to drain it of life until it lay withered in the crucible on Dromani. Unraveling (3,944-3,940 BBY) Without the Nervine - the T’Sisaarai Empire is no more. * Dromund Kaas’ power resources simply shut off. Planetary infrastructure grinds to a halt, suddenly leaving cities abandoned, quickly turning them into ghost towns. * Sith ships partially lose power as the Dark Side they’re slaved to dissipates, their ion engines operating on half power. The T’Sisaarai’s greatest strength operated as a single point of failure - once it was gone, the Sith threat simply evaporated from the galaxy. * The T’Sisaarai people found themselves fully in control of their selves without an external power leading or powering them. This was a fully alien and unknown feeling to them, having been connected to the Nervine for millenia. * Most Sith scatter into the darkness to flee consequence. Some end their life voluntarily. Some try to run back to the Sith Worlds to regroup; these Sith remnants are easily found and routed. All that’s left of the T’Sisaarai are what historians enter into their books and logs, and what teachers share as past threats and learning opportunities. <<back "Go back">>

THE JEDI RESTORATION ACCORDS Following the Sith Triumvirate's defeat, Mical - acting as the Jedi Historian of the New Jedi Order he wished to rebuild - worked with the Republic to establish reparations between the Jedi and Republic: Public Accountability & Transparency * Hold open forums on Coruscant and key sector capitals where Jedi openly answer citizens’ questions about past decisions, especially during the Mandalorian, Jedi Civil, and Sith Wars. * Release archival records of wartime decisions (with security-sensitive parts redacted) to show they are no longer operating in secrecy. War Orphan & Refugee Support * Establish Jedi-led relief teams dedicated to resettling displaced populations and reuniting families separated by the conflicts. * Fund and personally oversee orphanages, using Jedi resources and influence to give long-term care rather than temporary aid. Cultural & Planetary Restoration * Send Jedi construction, agricultural, and healing teams to worlds devastated by battles (Telos IV, Dantooine, Onderon, etc.). * Help restore sacred sites, cultural artifacts, and ecosystems damaged during the wars. Military Restraint & Detachment * Formally disband or step back from military command roles unless explicitly requested by the Republic Senate under strict oversight. * Train local planetary defense forces instead of keeping Jedi-led armies, reinforcing that they are protectors, not rulers. Diplomatic Outreach * Assign Jedi Ambassadors to worlds historically suspicious of them (like Mandalore or corporate sectors), focusing on non-military aid and mediation. * Work directly with neutral worlds in the Mid and Outer Rim to rebuild relations without Republic political pressure. Jedi Code & Structural Reform * Revise the Council’s decision-making process to include a citizen liaison or non-Jedi observers to provide outside perspectives. * Implement internal checks to prevent another schism like the Revanchists, making it clear they’ve learned from past failures. Education & Public Service * Offer Force education programs for non-Force-sensitives to demystify the Jedi and remove the sense of elitism. * Provide Jedi instructors for public universities in history, ethics, and galactic mediation. Healing Galactic Force Wounds * Take responsibility for repairing the metaphysical scars left on the galaxy - return to Malachor V, Katarr, and other sites to attempt to restore the natural Force flow, showing concern for both the living and spiritual realms.

JEDI HISTORY Jedi Records * <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jedi_Code/Legends#Mantra" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Jedi Code</a> * [[Jedi Accords->Jedi Accords]] * <<if $Tython1Explore>>[[The Rediscovery Of Tython->TythonRediscovery]]<</if>> * <<if $Revan1TravelToKnownSpace or $Sojourn1Explore>>[[Revan's Journals in the Unknown Regions->RevanJournaul]]<</if>> Force Concepts * [[The Theory of Force Echoes->Echo Theory]] * <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Cosmic_Force/Legends" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Cosmic Force</a> * <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Living_Force/Legends" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Living Force</a> Galactic Sith Conflicts <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Hundred-Year_Darkness/Legends" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">7,000-6,900 BBY: The Hundred Year Darkness</a> * Before the conflict: ~20,000 Jedi * After the Battle of Corbos: 5,000-7,000 Jedi (25-35% survival rate) <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Great_Hyperspace_War/Legends#The_war" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">5,000 BBY: Great Hyperspace War</a> * Before the conflict: 20,000-30.-000 Jedi * After the Battle of Kirrek: 7,000-10,000 Jedi (34% survival rate) <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Great_Sith_War/Legends" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">3,996 BBY: The Great Sith War</a> * Before the war: ~10,000 Jedi * After the Battle of Yavin 4: 5,000-7,000 Jedi (50-70% survival rate) <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Mandalorian_Wars#The_war" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">3,976-3,964 BBY: The Mandalorian Wars</a> * Before the crusade: ~10,000 Jedi * After the First Battle of Malachor V: ~2,000 Non-Revanchist Jedi (20% survival rate) <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jedi_Civil_War#The_war" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">3,959-3,956 BBY: Jedi Civil War</a> * Before the war: ~2,000 Jedi * After the Battle of Rataka Prime: ~150 Jedi (7% survival rate) <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Knights_of_the_Old_Republic_II:_The_Sith_Lords#Plot_summary" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">3,955-3,951 BBY: The Dark War</a> * Before the war: ~150 Jedi * <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Conclave_at_Katarr" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">The Devouring of Katarr</a>: 8 Jedi * After the Second Battle of Malachor V: 9 Jedi (6% survival rate)

THE THEORY OF FORCE ECHOES Definition * A Force Echo is a residual imprint left in the Force by a moment of intense emotional or physical upheaval—death, war, betrayal, or overwhelming passion. * They are not conscious spirits but rather psychic scars - the Force itself “remembering” a moment of suffering, hope, or change. Mechanism of Creation * Massive Events: Catastrophic actions (e.g., the Mass Shadow Generator at Malachor V) leave the strongest echoes. * Sith Influence: Dark rituals, prolonged torture, or holocrons can amplify or sustain echoes indefinitely. * Persistence: Echoes naturally fade over time unless sustained by Dark Side corruption or repeated trauma. Planetary Examples * Malachor V: The strongest known echo, a wound in the Force that shaped Meetra Surik herself. * Telos & Dantooine: Subtler echoes of war and loss, which Meetra could sense and partially heal. Force Echoes vs Distortions * Natural imprints of past trauma, suffering, or passion / Deliberately manipulated echoes, twisted by Dark Side users * Passive scars that can be sensed, healed, or silenced / Active, weaponized Force manifestations (visions, emotional suppression, psychic attacks) * Symbolize the memory of the Force / Used as tools of control, as by the T’Sisaarai Meetra Surik’s Unique Relationship with Echoes As a Living Force Wound, Meetra is both a product and an answer to Force Echoes * Her very being is an echo of Malachor V, a scar made flesh. * Her void-like nature allows her to perceive, absorb, or quiet echoes in ways no other Jedi can. Applications in KotOR II and Your Project * Healing Role: She can stabilize planets by quieting echoes (light side). * Weaponization Potential: She can draw strength from them or leave them to fester, allowing Sith exploitation (neutral or dark side). * Tactical Use: Her confrontation with Sith agents manipulating local echoes (like Lord Veluthar on Dantooine) shows her ability to sever their influence. The Philosophy of Force Echoes Cause and Consequence * Kreia’s Teaching: Every action—good or evil—creates ripples in the Force, shaping lives far beyond the original act. * Implication: Echoes are proof of interconnectedness, the galaxy forever marked by even the smallest deeds. Memory and Identity * Echoes are not sentient, but they embody the Force’s memory of suffering or change. * Philosophical question: Is this memory the Force’s will, or just an aftershock of life itself? The Wound as Rebellion * Kreia’s Fatalism: Echoes trap beings in repeating patterns; they are the Force’s tools to manipulate destiny. * Meetra’s Defiance: By healing echoes, she proves choice can rewrite the galaxy’s scars, rebelling against the Force’s supposed determinism. Free Will (Echoes are not destiny) * Healing one is an act of conscious defiance—choosing to stop a cycle of violence. * Exploiting one (as the Sith do) enslaves others to that cycle. Sith Corruption * The T’Sisaarai’s manipulation of echoes reflects the Dark Side’s perversion of this philosophy: * Where the Jedi heal echoes to restore balance, the T’Sisaarai weaponize them to bind whole populations spiritually and mentally. Practical & Narrative Roles * Tactical Tool: Echoes act as beacons or doorways for the True Sith to enter and manipulate worlds. Moral Choice Mechanic: * Light Side: Heal echoes, stabilize planets, and bring peace. * Neutral: Manipulate them for strategic advantage but without long-term healing. * Dark Side: Corrupt or leave them, giving the Sith a stronger foothold. Thematic Core: Meetra’s journey parallels the philosophy of echoes—she must decide if she is merely a wound of the past or the healer of the galaxy’s scars. <<back "Go back">>

THE EXISTENCE OF THE NERVINE Though the full understanding of the Nervine is a patchwork of mystery, these are the known understanding and speculations of the Force abomination. Comparing the Nervine to the Infinite Empire The Nervine is clearly greater in power and scope compared to the Infinite Empire's technology and power fueled by the Dark Side. Travel & Expansion: Both empires utilized Dark Side methods for traveling in the galaxy. * The Infinite Empire hyperdrives could only visit worlds possessing strong Force signatures, resulting in huge voids between their conquered worlds. * *he Nervine's extension of reach was much greater and easier to achieve, only needing a rooted Dark Side source on the planet to begin growing roots into a Dark Nexus satellite. Methods: Both dominate and subjugate their enemies. * The Rataka’s brutal savagery was effective, but eventually caused too much hubris, causing a fall they were blind to until it was too late. * The Nervine by nature pulls from the Dark Side but is directionless, thereby requiring direct guidance from the Kissai - this allows for semi-democratic actions. When the Nervine dominates a being, it leaves psychological roots in its victims that are difficult to remove. Why wasn't the Nervine discovered before the T’Sisaarai Invasion? The Nervine’s been around for 20,000 years and the best warning that could be made was people like Atris foaming at the mouth about “the darkness, the echoes” and half buried drawings on Sith planets? How was the Nervine kept so secret for so long, if it’s such an existential threat? * An easy answer is to say anyone who found out about it were caught by the secretive T’Sisaarai, in the same way the Illuminati are “known” but not treated seriously or realistically. * Another reason why is because the Nervine could be confused, construed or simplified to be seen as an abnormal Dark Side nexus. The more outside of its proximity you are, the less it can influence or turn you. But then you look at Revan, Kreia, Atris, Meetra, the old Jedi Council…all of them knew there was a larger Dark Side threat, they just couldn’t understand it enough to identify the source or cause. Why?... * The T’Sisaarai understood how the Nervine worked long ago. It’s why they were able to seamlessly manipulate the old Sith in so many ways. * In 6,900 BBY is when the larger galaxy truly opened up to the T’Sisaarai. That’s when they started planting seeds of the Dark Side, laying them throughout the galaxy. Quietly, stealthy, without notice, easily pointing blame of their planting at other factors or actions. * Right as 4,000 BBY hit (Tenebrae’s coup), the Nervine begins pinging Dark Force nexuses all over the galaxy. Echoes coming from everywhere, creating a galactic echo chamber. The Nervine was felt and seen, but impossible to detect. * Reformed Jedi Revan’s recalled memories knew something about the true danger to the galaxy. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew something about it was an existential threat. He says he’s going into the Unknown Regions, because that’s where Lehon (Rataka Prime) was and it made sense that Lehon could be on the border of the Sith Empire. The Nervine was, for all intents and purposes, undetected and invisible for as long as it wanted to be, because it created an echo chamber in the Force, and misled seekers to search on the wrong end of the galaxy (Unknown Regions) while they built up their empire on Dromund Kaas, an undiscovered world to the galaxy. <<back "Go back">>

Mandalorian Wars (3976-3960 BBY) <img src="Datapad/SecondSithWar/MandalorianWars.png" class="imgresp"> Phase I: Border Skirmishes and Probing Attacks (c. 3976–3974 BBY) The Mandalorians test the Republic’s defenses by hitting neutral or poorly defended Outer Rim worlds. * Althir – First small-scale raid * Flashpoint Station – Medical and research outpost attacked and seized * Vanquo – Resource-rich world raided early * Cathar – Site of a major massacre; nearly wipes out the Cathar species * Taris (Outer settlements) – Early raids destabilize the planet * Suurja – Key strategic location attacked to provoke the Republic Phase II: Outer Rim Invasions (c. 3974–3971 BBY) The Mandalorians move from raids to planetary occupations, forcing the Republic into defensive war. * Onderon and Dxun – Used as Mandalorian staging grounds * Serroco – Heavily populated Republic world; nuked from orbit (millions killed) * Duro – Major Core-adjacent world; heavily bombarded, causing ecological ruin * Ithor – Peaceful world of the Ithorians; burned for symbolic dominance * Ord Mantell – Strategic military hub attacked * Jebble – Later becomes a site of Sith necrotic experimentation Phase III: Full-Scale War and Jedi Intervention (c. 3971–3960 BBY) Revan and Malak join the war; battles intensify and push deeper into Republic space. * Taris (again) – Battlefront cityscapes and refugee collapse * Telos IV – Attacked and partially occupied * Eres III – Major campaign led by Revan * Foerost – Shipyards seized to build a Mandalorian fleet * Althas IV – Republic counteroffensive * Jaga's Cluster – Naval battles in deep space * Malachor V – Final battle; Revan uses the Mass Shadow Generator, ending the war <<back "Go back">>

THE POTENCY OF FORCE UNITY Force Unity is intended to be a foil to the Nervine - the purest form of the Light Side of the Force, verses the physical manifestation of the Dark Side of the Force. * A rare and transcendent Force phenomenon in which multiple Force-sensitive individuals become psychically, emotionally, and spiritually linked through a shared neural lattice formed by synchronized midichlorian resonance, creating a self-stabilizing mental system. * This unified network is anchored and controlled by a central Force being that is able to consciously separate themself from the Force, while still being present in the physical world. Beings capable of this are usually born of incredible power through the Force, or have learned to live with a Force Wound that hasn’t consumed their physical body. * This unique disconnection allows the controller to stabilize and command the collective consciousness without interference from external metaphysical influence. * Unlike traditional Battle Meditation, which influences morale and coordination through one-way amplification, Force Unity creates a temporary hive-mind wherein all participants act with shared instincts, thoughts, reflexes, and awareness. The boundaries of individual will remain, but the sensation of separation dissolves. * This power can only be used by beings rooted or willing to be used by the Light Side of the Force. Beings that aren’t Force Sensitive can still be included in the act of Force Unity to a lesser degree, compared to a being trained as a Jedi. Etymology * Derived from early Je’daii philosophical tenets of Ashla and Bogan in harmony. * Re-emerged in theory following post-Malachor phenomena observed around the Jedi Exile, Meetra Surik. * Considered heretical by orthodox Jedi for its blurring of individual will and Force sovereignty. Scientific Basis * Achieved through midichlorian link harmonization, wherein the midichlorians of multiple individuals resonate in identical patterns. * Requires a central conduit whose Force-wound status nullifies traditional feedback loops that would normally destabilize group links. * The phenomenon is immune to most forms of mental or dark side intrusion due to its closed-loop psychic structure. Function & Effects * All linked Force-users share real-time spatial awareness, emotional state, instinctual reaction, combat timing and decision-making. * Greatly enhanced group performance in battle, meditation, healing, and resistance to Force-based corruption. * Participants become impervious to isolation-based Force effects (e.g., fear, confusion, Force drain). * Depending on collective strength, can overwhelm other hive minds or Force Echo-based corruption networks by imposing a stronger, unified waveform. Philosophical Significance * Represents synthesis over opposition. * Embodies the original Je’daii vision: balance not as neutrality, but as shared identity. * Seen as a post-structuralist evolution of both Jedi and Sith dogma—where power, control, peace, and passion are not forces in conflict, but threads of a greater weave. Vulnerability Immune or resistant to: * Mental Manipulation and Mind Control * Dark Side Corruption Vulnerable to: * Psychic overload from external influence before Force Unity stabilizes * The Unity Leader suddenly severing the connection, resulting in neural backlash and identity confusion * Someone in the hive mind harbors mistrust or malicious intent against the Unity leader; this could cause signal clarity, sometimes traumatic feedback Celestial Views To the Celestials, Force Unity would not be a “new power,” but the restoration of the Force’s original function before fragmentation — before the dichotomy of Light and Dark, before the Nervine’s corruption, before sentient life forgot it was the Force thinking about itself. * “In her we see the pulse of the First Breath — the Living Force finding voice again within matter. She is the junction between pulse and pattern, the song that binds the broken tones. Through her, the galaxy remembers how to sing.” <<back "Go back">>

FORCE UNITY (Back-End Reasoning) KotOR III’s resolution is found through the literal power and action of Force Unity. This is notable for a few reasons: The Power of Friendship It’s a simplistic and slightly sarcastic view of how Force Unity is used. But it’s true - when you’ve had 30 years of the good being ripped out and gutted, and you’re forced to be this amazingly powered being that uses the inherent power of the universe to fight zombie bad guys - what’s really important is to have friends. There’s nothing worse than a lonely hero. There’s nothing worse than being justified when you’re alone. There’s no point in being unified if you have no one to join with. A Counter for the Nervine The T’Sisaarai is defined by submissive control, domination and the darkest kind of evil. Force Unity is rooted and exists in balance in the Force, trust with others, and willingly surrendering your autonomy for a cause greater than yourself. Force Unity is the good in everyone manifest. The Ultimate Flaw of the Old Jedi Force Unity is a philosophical answer to why galactic conflicts since the Mandalorian Wars existed in the first place: * On retrospection the Mandalorian Wars were the 4th of 7 major Sith influenced conflicts in 3,500 years. Doubt, uncertainty and perceived guilt made Jedi leaders more cautious and reluctant to stand as the guardians of light they had pledged to be. Their actions were bound by PTSD and trauma, a chorus of voices with no song (like the Tho Yor ships). * Force Unity provides cohesive action, shared vulnerability and true shared consciousness for Jedi leaders and heroes to stop the Sith and evil. * Even if the Council was aware of Force Unity at the right moment, I doubt they would use it for fear of what it would cause. That’s why they leaned so heavily on Bastila during the Jedi Civil War - she was a singular being, a single point of failure. If she went down the dark path (which she did) the Jedi Council would still be safe and untainted by the actions she made. They were quiet cowards. Accumulated failure does a lot of things to a person. The Jedi Council had all been around for so long - when the young voices of Revan and Alek tried to rally the Jedi to action, the Council only saw the possibility of more devastation and failure through their history. * Often someone will get to the point where they’ve found their reason, cause, inner drive to choose good, to walk away from evil. When at that point, it’s easy to stay independent and keep distance from unsafe connections. While that may be true in limited cases and moments, that’s not healthy long-term. * Humans weren’t built to stand alone, we were meant to connect with others like us, whether that be family, friends, community, causes, enjoyment ect. * In KotOR III the True Sith come to invade. Revan is convinced his knowledge and power will win the day single-handedly, but even he is too easily overwhelmed. Meetra has proven she can do good in the face of evil, but feels that she’s losing herself in the cycle of heroism and has no personal reason or conviction to keep going. * Anyone can easily believe in their own capability in life, but it’s hard to keep believing that when you’re in the real world, in battle, in dark times. Surrounding yourself with people that see you for who you are - good, bad, whatever - and still choosing you, that’s what everyone wants, as much as they can. You can’t save the galaxy, or the world, alone. K1 showed what one person’s willpower can do to affect positive change. K2 showed why a person should fight to do good in the face of oblivion. K3 is hopefully seen as how a person comes back to themselves through connection with others.

RATAKA PRIME <img src="Act1/RatakaPrime1Beach.png" class="png"> On a world of vibrant tropics, where endless turquoise seas lapped against white sand beaches, where thick jungles thrive in humid warmth - RATAKA PRIME sits preserved in space, frozen in time for millenia. Brilliant birds dart between colossal trees draped in vines, while herds of gizka chirp and scatter through the undergrowth. The air is heavy with the scent of salt and flowering plants, the drone of insects and the crash of distant waves. Half-buried broken starship hulls from across the centuries lay silent, save for the occasional groaning as the wind hits them. Moss-covered ruins of the broken Infinite Empire sleep, scattered across a world that seem timeless. At the heart of the planet stands the Temple of the Ancients, brooding tan stone rising defiantly from the jungle canopy. Secrets of ancient conquerors, victories bathed in the blood, and the sacrifice of slaves secure each piece of the structure. It remains sedentary, almost blissfully unaffected by the passage of time. Standing alone at the summit, the confidence of its foundation is fully betrayed by the planet’s next moments. Without notice or declaration, the Temple begins to thrum with life, glowing with an unnatural bluish-purple radiance. Veins of light crawl like veiny cracks across its towering spires. The glow pulses, deep and resonant, carrying a vibration through the sand and jungle. Nearby gizka scatter and shriek, their bulging eyes fixed in panic on the temple, while the remnants of the Rakata tribes turn toward the light. Realizing where it comes from, they fall to their knees in terror, convinced the ancient Builders have returned to deliver their vengance. The light grows hotter, brighter, an expanding corona that spills out from the temple, swallowing shadow, turning day to white blinding brilliance. Shadows disappear, the air itself vibrates, a high-pitched resonance shakes the stone foundations and sets the canopy ablaze with ghostly color. For one still moment, the world seems to hold stifled breath…and then ruptures. <img src="Act1/RatakaPrime1TempleDestruction.png" class="png"> From orbit, the planet suddenly and violently explodes with light like a dying star, shockwaves extending out into space. The eruption rips through the crust in jagged expanding fractures, like raping a thread from stitching. The oceans instantly boil, casting plumes of vapor into the void of space, while a volcanic roar shakes the heavens. Continents crack and split, magma spews upward in colossal fountains as the planetary core is torn open. Chunks of landmass - some the size of large cities - are hurled into space. A fiery halo of debris encircles Rataka Prime, glowing against the void of space. Rivers of molten rock lash out into the atmosphere, then freeze in the cold vacuum, leaving trails of glowing stone adrift like comets. <img src="Act1/RatakaPrime1Explosion.png" class="png"> There is no enemy fleet above, no weapon trained upon the surface of the planet. No adversary reveals itself. The destruction is causeless, merciless, and absolute. Even in its last moments, the attack offers no explanation...only the silence of space that keeps the planet in place. The cradle of the once Infinite Empire has suddenly been reduced to a wound in the galaxy’s fabric. <<set $Lehon1 to "unlocked">> [[As the broken planet fades away...->CYC1.1]]

<center>Choose Your LEGEND <div style="text-align: center;"><table style="margin: 0 auto; border-collapse: collapse; width: 80%;"><tr><td style="padding: 1em; border: 1px solid #555; vertical-align: top;"><img src="Portrait/Meetra Portrait.png" style="max-width: 150px; height: auto;"> Exile of the Jedi, survivor of Malachor, the Living Wound... after destroying the Sith Triumvirate, she has worked to restore the galaxy, while searching for signs of REVAN. [[MEETRA SURIK->Ossus1Disturbances]] </td> <td style="padding: 1em; border: 1px solid #555; vertical-align: top;"><img src="Portrait/Revan Portrait.png" style="max-width: 150px; height: auto;"> Savior, conqueror, hero, villain... he is all things, hidden from the galaxy for a decade, searching for the True Sith in the Unknown Regions. [[REVAN->Revan1]] </td></tr></table></div></center>

OSSUS: Disturbances Elsewhere in the galaxy, a freighter bursts from hyperspace, catching the amber light of the solar star Ageda. The EBON HAWK glides through the quiet expanse, its hull aglow with reflected starlight as it approaches a pale tan marble hanging in the void. <img src="Act1/Ossus1EbonHawkEntry.png" class="png"> Below, the planet Ossus breathes, a world of broad temperate plateaus, windswept plains, and crystalline caverns that glitter like frozen lightning. Though tranquil from orbit, its surface bears deep scars: canyons carved not by erosion, but by ancient devastation. Wild forests have partially reclaimed the ruins of citadels that used to shine radiant with Jedi learning. Once the beating heart of the Jedi Order’s knowledge, Ossus was ravaged millennia ago during the Great Sith War, when the supernova of Cron Cluster bathed the planet in cataclysmic fire. In the decades since, the planet’s legacy was left buried beneath ash and memory. Now, amid the Republic’s fragile peace and the historically low number of beings that claim to be Jedi, the world lies forgotten - a hushed monument to enlightenment undone by hubris. Only the whisper of the Force lingers here, faint but resolute, calling to those who still listen. <img src="Act1/Ossus1Disturbances.png" class="png"> As OSSUS fills up their cockpit view, four Jedi - MEETRA SURIK, ATTON RAND, BAO-DUR, MIRA - work to identify a perceived threat that brought them here: * ATTON (pilot seat): "Ok people, we're here. Let's figure out how this is gonna go." * BAO-DUR (tapping on a datapad in the co-pilot chair): "The EBON HAWK's sensors aren't finding anything unusual yet. We may have arrived too late to find the intruders." * ATTON (annoyed): "Hey - we got here as fast as her hyperdrive could go. It's not my fault!" * BAO-DUR (confused, frustrated) "Something has to have happened. The alerts went off right as you felt it, General." * MIRA (tapping away at the wall display): "Nothing on comms, no recent reports about Ossus from anything I can find in a while. The last real event happened here decades ago, it's been quiet since." She looks toward the figure to the other side, leaning against the wall. "Is your feeling still here?" MEETRA - formerly exiled Jedi, captain of the EBON HAWK, and mentor to those present - steps forward, reaching out with the Force, searching for more details on the planet's surface. * MEETRA:...I don't know. Something's here. I can't connect the disturbance in the Force to what BAO-DUR's alarms were tripped by. But there's something..." She steps forward, pointing at a distinct continent. "BAO-DUR, what's in that region?" * BAO-DUR (tapping away) "The city of Knossa. A Jedi Library is there" * MEETRA (with urgency): "THE Great Jedi Library. Go there. Bring us in hot, ATTON." * ATTON (cheerfully) "Yes ma'am, comin in hot!" The EBON HAWK's engines roar as it rushes into OSSUS' atmosphere, anxious to discover the disturbances its passengers seek. <<set $Ossus1Disturbances to "unlocked">> [[Assassin Remnants->Ossus1AssassinRemnants]]

OSSUS: Assassin Remnants<<set $Ossus1AssassinRemnants to "unlocked">> The EBON HAWK breaks through Ossus' atmosphere, its battered frame catching the wind over rugged valleys. Ahead lies Knossa, the scarred ruins of the once-proud Jedi city. Its centerpiece, the Great Jedi Library, still stands - devastated and crumpled from the Sith cataclysm 48 years prior. From orbit Knossa seemed lifeless, but as they draw closer, dark silhouettes could be seen slipping through shattered arches and along broken staircases. BAO-DUR’s close-range sensors scream out warnings; life-signs moving fast, clusters of energy surging from primed charges. * MEETRA (tone tight with urgency):* “They’re trying to finish what Exar Kun started.” * ATTON (frustrated): “Looks like somebody forgot to tell the Sith - the Jedi already lost this library.” The others can feel it - the oily press of the Dark Side. MEETRA can feel the activity below pushing at the Library’s Force Wound. ATTON steadies the HAWK toward the temple’s collapsed entrance steps. Before ATTON has a chance to touch the ship down, the boarding ramp hisses open; MEETRA leaps first, her cyan lightsaber igniting in midair, BAO-DUR whips out his own green blade, MIRA igniting her viridian saber, her trusty blaster in her other hand. All three Jedi hit the ground in front of a pack of masked Sith Assassins. <img src="Act1/Ossus1JumpingIntoAction.png" class="png"> The Sith Assassins, partially caught unaware of this sudden rush of Jedi, sneer and curse at them in Sith language. They all lunge at the HEROES, vibroblades flashing, raspy voices filling the air as their attempts to stop the Jedi are easily blocked. MIRA snorts as she cracks a frag grenade into the nearest pair. * MIRA: “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Blowing up empty books? Real terrifying.” BAO-DUR’s electro-arm sparks as he parries a blade and sends his attacker sprawling. * BAO-DUR: “They’ll hit anything the Jedi touched. Symbolism matters.” MEETRA cuts through two Assassins in a fluid arc, driving the rest back toward the base of the steps. * MEETRA (cold steel voice): “Not today.” The EBON HAWK finally sets down with a thud. ATTON, anxious to join his friends in their defense, yells down the hall at T3-M4 to protect the ship; he sprints down the ramp, blaster already spitting bolts into the fray, sliding into cover behind a broken column. * ATTON: “You know, for stealth experts, they sure make a lot of noise screaming Sith curses.” * MEETRA: “Maybe it’s all they’ve got left.” She meets the twin blades of another assassin, lighting sparks into the air. “Empty threats. Empty vengeance.” The fight surges across the rubble - lightsaber hum, blaster fire, and the hiss of smoke from MIRA’s grenade charges. The Assassins rally and press harder, trying to block the entrance to the Library - but years of these HEROES fighting together betray any efforts of these remnant Sith. Where one falters, another strikes; where one is exposed, another covers. <img src="Act1/Ossus1Battle.png" class="png"> With each blow the HEROES push the Assassins back, clearing the steps to the library’s threshold. MEETRA immediately picks up on explosive satchels blinking red, planted along cracked columns. They’re trying to bring the building down, possibly on themselves to stop the Jedi. * MEETRA (yelling): “BAO!” as she lock sabers with an Assassin leader. * BAO-DUR: “I see it!” <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Ossus1Assassin>>* <<link "Destroy the Explosives with BAO-DUR’s lightsaber">><<set $Ossus1Assassin = 'Saber'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>BAO-DUR, ever the one for recognizing precision, uses his lightsaber to cut the straps of each satchel, using the Force to push the explosives away. As he does this for the final satchel, all of the explosives go off, a safe distance away from the columns and BAO-DUR. * MEETRA (smiling): “Good job!” BAO-DUR smiles back, right before his attention is diverted by another short-lived Assassin attack. As the charges are going off, ATTON blasts the last Assassin clean off the staircase, his smirk sharp. * ATTON: “Guess the reading room’s still open.” MIRA joins MEETRA, helping her take down the Assassin Leader. MIRA takes a step back, wipes sweat from her forehead, and flicks her blaster back into her hip hostler, surveying the wrecked entryway. * MIRA: “If this was their grand plan, I almost feel sorry for them. Seems a bit hollo. Like them.” MEETRA extinguishes her saber, though her eyes still narrow toward the library’s darkened doorway. She feels herself move into her Field General persona. * MEETRA: “Wait. This may be just the distraction. It might not be as simple as destruction. BAO, stay here & make sure we didn't miss anything. See if one of them is conscious enough to talk.” The silence that follows is heavy, holding the weight of forgotten dust. BAO-DUR, ever dutiful to his General's commands, stands watch as MEETRA, ATTON and MIRA step into the inside of the Great Jedi Library… [[A Disturbance In The Force->Ossus1Disturbance]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Destroy the Explosives with BAO-DUR’s blaster">><<set $Ossus1Assassin = 'Blaster'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>BAO-DUR, ever the one for recognizing precision, uses his blaster to cut the straps of each satchel, using the Force to push the explosives away. As he does this for the final satchel, all of the explosives go off, a safe distance away from the columns and BAO-DUR. * MEETRA (smiling): “Good job!” BAO-DUR smiles back, right before his attention is diverted by another short-lived Assassin attack. As the charges are going off, ATTON blasts the last Assassin clean off the staircase, his smirk sharp. * ATTON: “Guess the reading room’s still open.” MIRA joins MEETRA, helping her take down the Assassin Leader. MIRA takes a step back, wipes sweat from her forehead, and flicks her blaster back into her hip hostler, surveying the wrecked entryway. * MIRA: “If this was their grand plan, I almost feel sorry for them. Seems a bit hollo. Like them.” MEETRA extinguishes her saber, though her eyes still narrow toward the library’s darkened doorway. She feels herself move into her Field General persona. * MEETRA: “Wait. This may be just the distraction. It might not be as simple as destruction. BAO, stay here & make sure we didn't miss anything. See if one of them is conscious enough to talk.” The silence that follows is heavy, holding the weight of forgotten dust. BAO-DUR, ever dutiful to his General's commands, stands watch as MEETRA, ATTON and MIRA step into the inside of the Great Jedi Library… [[A Disturbance In The Force->Ossus1Disturbance]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Force Push the Explosives Away from the Columns">><<set $Ossus1Assassin = 'Push'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>BAO-DUR focuses, using the Force to rip the satchels from their place on the columns, moving the explosives away from structurally damaging the library. As he gets to the final satchel, he finds that it won’t move for him, causing him to panic. As all of the explosives go off, he watches from a safe distance as the explosive on the final column punches a hole in the column. BAO-DUR gasps, panicking…but as the dust clears, he sees the integrity of the column holding. The ancient library’s structure still holds. He breathes a guilty sigh of relief. As MEETRA takes down another Assassin, she looks to BAO-DUR, concerned. * MEETRA (urgent): “Are you ok?” * BAO-DUR (reluctant): “Yes…I don’t know what happened, I’m sorry General.” * MEETRA (reassuring): “As long as you’re ok, it’s fine. Let’s round up the rest of the assassins.” BAO-DUR nods, right before his attention is diverted by another short-lived Assassin attack. As the charges are going off, ATTON blasts the last Assassin clean off the staircase, his smirk sharp. * ATTON: “Guess the reading room’s still open.” MIRA joins MEETRA, helping her take down the Assassin Leader. MIRA takes a step back, wipes sweat from her forehead, and flicks her blaster back into her hip hostler, surveying the wrecked entryway. * MIRA: “If this was their grand plan, I almost feel sorry for them. Seems a bit hollo. Like them.” MEETRA extinguishes her saber, though her eyes still narrow toward the library’s darkened doorway. She feels herself move into her Field General persona. * MEETRA: “Wait. This may be just the distraction. It might not be as simple as destruction. BAO, stay here & make sure we didn't miss anything. See if one of them is conscious enough to talk.” The silence that follows is heavy, holding the weight of forgotten dust. BAO-DUR, ever dutiful to his General's commands, stands watch as MEETRA, ATTON and MIRA step into the inside of the Great Jedi Library… <<set $Ossus1AssassinRemnants to "unlocked">> [[A Disturbance In The Force->Ossus1Disturbance]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

OSSUS: A Disturbance In The Force The ruined halls of the Great Jedi Library seem to swallow them whole. Shafts of sunlight bleed through collapsed ceilings, scattering over shelves warped by centuries of weather. Datapads and documents lay half-pulped from rainwater, data crystals shattered like glass beads underfoot. The Jedi ignite their lightsabers for a steady source of light, casting colored blue, yellow and purple tints throughout their immediate area of travel. <img src="Act1/Ossus1LibrarySearching.png" class="png"> ATTON kicks a broken pedestal aside with a snort. * ATTON: “Figures. Galaxy finally starts patching itself back together, and these clowns think blowing up moldy archives will bring the Sith back in style.” MIRA sweeps her sabers’s light across a cracked mural of ancient Jedi. Dust swirls. * MIRA: “They’re desperate. All they’ve got left is destroying things that already died decades ago. Makes them feel relevant, I guess.” MEETRA notices a flicker of blue reflection, and kneels near a half-buried holocron, its casing dim under layers of grit. She brushed it clean, her brow furrowing. * MEETRA: “Still…they came here for a reason. Even Sith fanatics don’t waste their time on corpses unless there’s something they think they can take.” She takes the holocron in her hand, rubs some of the dirt off, and begins to feel around for its release... The air twists. Everything is black. MEETRA suddenly regains conciousness. Her eyes can't perceive anything, but she feels the atmosphere has changed. A pressure wave, invisible yet crushing, hammers through the air. Shadows take form, stretching unnaturally long. The temperature drops. MEETRA staggers as she feels a storm of dark distortions burst through the Force. This storm somehow brings vision, giving her the ability to discern shapes. <img src="Act1/Ossus1Vison1.png" class="png"> She floats above an ocean of water, statues and pillars from the Great Jedi Library present, but resembing distant artifacts. Visions present and change under the water veil - battlefields drowning in fire, cities collapsing, endless screams cut off into silence. The images are jagged, incoherent, yet laced with a dreadful familiarity. MEETRA felt her center buckle. An echoe roars, louder, folding into itself until all sensations collapsed into nothing. She screams. <img src="Act1/Ossus1Vision2.png" class="png"> She is floating again - adrift in a void, this time feeling like she's somewhere on...on Malachor. Years ago, when the Mass Shadow Generator tore the galaxy’s fabric. The stillness is deafening, a numb abyss stretching forever. For a moment she almost lets go, sinking into the cold quiet. Her hand. Her palm feels soil. Something is not right. She pushes, and the grit of Ossus presses back into her hand. She clings to that texture, to the reality beneath her fingers. Ground yourself, she thinks. Feel the weight. Return. Feel the Force. Open your eyes. She exhales...then breathes. MEETRA's eyes open. The library ruin comes back into focus, dim and sharp all at once. She steadies her breathing, forcing the haze back. ATTON groans, pushing himself up against a cracked column. * ATTON: “Tell me that wasn’t just me. I saw… everything and nothing. Not a fan.” MIRA rubbed her temple, her usual sarcasm edged with strain. * MIRA: “That...was worse than Nar Shaddaa hangovers. And I’ve had some record-breakers.” MEETRA feels a buzz on her belt. Each of them become aware of their communicators going off. They turn them on simultaneously. Static, then frantic voices. * “---MEETRA… was that you?” * “Are the Sith back? Is it spreading?” * “We felt it on Alderaan…Chandrilla, Stewjon…even Ryloth - everywhere.” The three exchanged wary bewildered glances. Whatever this was, it wasn’t confined to Ossus. Was it everywhere? A familiar voice cut through on MEETRA's comm, clearer than the rest. * “MEETRA. We all felt it. Whatever just happened - this is bigger than whatever you're in right now. I need you to come to the SOJOURN. Now. We must understand what struck the galaxy before it strikes again.” * MEETRA: "...Everywhere?........" MEETRA turned off her communicator, her jaw set. She looked at her friends, deeply concerned but firm in her words. * MEETRA: “She's right. Let's find BAO-DUR and get out of here." The HEROES left as fast as they arrived. The bodies of the failed Assassins littered the dust-covered ground of Ossus, their stillness seconded only by the Great Jedi Library; its silence now carried by a weight that stretched far beyond Ossus. <<set $["Ossus1Disturbance"] to "unlocked">> [[The SOJOURN->Sojourn1Connections]]

THE SOJOURN In the muted background of stars on black space, two cruiser-class ships flank a larger Frigate commanding ship - the SOJOURN. The trio of Republic Hammerhead military ships, painted in metallic white with maroon highlights, hold their post outside of the Corbin system, sitting in a corner of hyperspace routes that give easy patrolling access and assistance. Once a common sight in the Republic fleet, many of these Hammerhead ships were lost in the Mandalorian and Jedi Civil Wars, but like their crews these ships endured. Over the years they were refitted and modified to continue their missions as the emissaries of peace in the galaxy. The SOJOURN opens its wide docking bay doors to the void of space. Almost on cue, the EBON HAWK’s scarred hull exits hyperspace not too far away, easing into the ship’s bay. As the ship engines power down, the HEROES walk down the ramp, with ATTON sheepishly taking in the surroundings - it’s been some time since he was welcome without hidden caution on a Republic ship. <img src="Act1/Sojourn1Entry.png" class="png"> The cavernous berth of the SOJOURN thrumms with ordered activity. Technicians move with precision, squadrons of newly-forged Aurek fighters line the deck in neat formation, and the bold crest of the Republic painted onto the back wall watches over its soldiers, passively offering a visual representation of cause. To those who have served here over the years, the SOJOURN is made of more than metal - it's a promise that the Republic has and will endure. As the HEROES wait at the head of the EBON HAWK, a leading figure exits the main dock doors. He walks with purpose that matches the red & blue insignias pinned to his Republic uniform’s chest. His face carries the weight of years of loss, reinforced by strength found in sharp resolve to keep fighting. As he gets closer, a direct smile breaks onto his face. He reaches out his hand, going down the line, shaking each HERO’s hand firmly. <img src="Act1/Sojourn1CarthGreet.png" class="png"> * CARTH: “MEETRA, BAO-DUR, welcome back. ATTON, MIRA, good to meet you. I'm Admiral CARTH ONASI of the Republic Navy. It's always a good day when you see Jedi face to face." he says, his smile projecting warmth to his new acquaintances. "We run the Hydian Front cleaning up the lane. Sith remnants, raiders, pirates - they’re fractured, but enough to be dangerous if no one tries. From here, we keep the Expansion and Mid Rim steady." He waves for the HEROES to follow him. CARTH leads his visitors to the Operations deck. As the doors to the office open, BASTILA SHAN rises to greet the HEROES, nodding her head in greeting with firm and guarded eyes. Her yellow and brown robes mixed with white boots and sleeves blend Jedi tradition with the expected formality of a Republic envoy. * BASTILA: “Hello all, thank you for coming directly, given recent events”, giving a curt nod to the HEROES. “MIRA and ATTON, it is good to meet you in person, MEETRA has shared much of your help in galactic events. We are all grateful for you.” She motions to her desk, and all take a seat around it. <<set $Sojourn1Connections to "unlocked">> [[Something Reaching Out->Sojourn1SomethingReachingOut]]

THE SOJOURN: Something Reaching Out BASTILA takes in a breath, before starting into it. * BASTILA: "This recent event is significant, so I won’t waste time.” She speaks her words plainly and clearly, connecting her eyes with each HERO as she shares. ”What we experienced wasn’t a coincidence, and it wasn’t natural. Something reached through the Force and struck us - every Force sensitive being in the galaxy, whether trained or not. It was precise. It was coordinated. And it was felt everywhere, at the same time. A wave of darkness pressed down on us. Some saw visions. Others re-lived trauma. Some simply felt the weight and confusion of it without understanding why. But the one thing we know is that it was real. We weren’t imagining it." ATTON and MIRA begin to tense up. The knowledge that this attack was on a galactic scale, simultaneously…it’s terrifying. MEETRA and BAO-DUR stay rigidly composed - they’ve been given terrifying news like this before, and know more is coming. The HEROES collectively hold their breath as she continues <img src="Act1/Sojourn1SomthingReachingOut.png" class="png"> * BASTILA: "This wasn’t limited to living beings either. Holocrons activated on their own. Dormant nexuses pulsed or flared with energy. A few Sith artifacts even reacted, as if something woke them. It’s as though the entire Force was disturbed. I’ve already spoken with healers who examined several who were affected. No lasting damage, no signs of mental breakdown, corruption, or possession. Once the attack passed, it left nothing behind. No trace. Just...silence. Whatever this was, it has incredible reach and power. Far beyond anything we’ve encountered since the days of war.” * CARTH (interjecting): “The Republic navy usually relies on the Jedi for matters of the Force. But even our scanners and instruments on our ships and at research sites picked up small and nuanced changes in the moments Force sensitives were attacked.” He gently sighed. “We can’t identify what it was, but we know something happened.” * BASTILA (continuing): “We don't have a source. We don’t have much of a pattern. We only know when it happened, simultaneously. That kind of presence...isn’t just a Force disturbance. It’s a message. A warning. Or a test." She checks a nearby datapad. "I’ve sent inquiries to Alderann, Tython, and the Outer Rim enclaves, and I’m coordinating with Mical’s circle. If this was a precursor to something larger - we need to be ready." * CARTH: "Until we understand more, we can’t speak of this publicly. Panic will serve no one. We handle this as leaders of the Republic - calmly, focused, and united." His eyes connect with each HERO. "We need answers. And we can’t find them alone, from where we stand", gesturing to himself and BASTILA, with both of them looking on at the HEROES. MEETRA considers the weight and gravity of their words... <<link "Express Thoughts on Tracking the Distortions">><<replace "#Tracking">> The words of BASTILA and CARTH ring in the air, allowing a moment for the HEROES to absorb what’s been shared. The heaviness of the threat sinks into them, as they realize these two war legends are looking to them for help. With emotions bubbling and mixed, their first response comes from the mechanical, pragmatic one. * BAO-DUR:“…That’s a lot of unknowns. A Force-wide pulse strong enough to trigger artifacts across the galaxy…that’s more energy than most reactors could hold for a second. If we can’t trace it through the Force, maybe we can trace what it did to matter instead.” He crosses his arms, eyes narrowing in thought. * MEETRA (slightly distraught): “I’ve felt ripples before - echoes from wounds in the Force, battles, deaths. This wasn’t that. This felt…deliberate. Someone reached out, and then released. How would we search for something like that on such a massive scale?” * BASTILA (quiet confidence): “That’s why we called you first.” She leans forward to MEETRA. “You are the only living Jedi that has experienced actions anywhere near what just happened. No one understands disturbances in the Force like you do. You've walked through places that should have shattered any Jedi, and yet you listened to them - understood them. Your perception of Force echoes, the way you perceive what others miss...it’s unlike anything I’ve seen. Whatever this was, it left behind more than silence. If anyone can trace that - find the thread through the noise - it’s you. We won’t find the source without that insight." <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Share Thoughts on this Acting as a Force Wound">><<replace "#Wound">>MEETRA hears her words, but her thoughts start drifting to dark memories. She quickly reasserts her focus, glancing at her friends beside her. She catches ATTON’s eyes, always watching for her heart. MIRA also, her face showing unknown determination with a sliver of fear. MEETRA takes a quick moment to recollect herself, turning back to BASTILA. * MEETRA (tone grave): “CARTH, BASTILA - with all due respect this was more than an attack. It felt like a wound opening again, like I was back at Malachor the first time.” MEETRA's eyes betray her feelings of fear and dread. * MIRA (frustration flickering): “And with no Sith standing on a throne screaming about war….” * CARTH (quietly, carefully): "You’re right, this is worse than a known enemy. We can’t fight what we can’t see. And if it’s coming back, we need to be ready before it does." * BASTILA (nods, gaze still on MEETRA): "We can begin with what we can see - the echoes it left. MEETRA, your strength has always been in sensing the unseen, tracing what lingers where others feel nothing. If we’re going to understand this, we need you to listen again - no matter how deep it goes." She pauses, empathic strength in her next words. “You’re not alone this time. We’re with you.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Agree to Search for the Distortions">><<replace "#Searching">>Fighting deep resistance and discomfort, MEETRA looks into the eyes of the Jedi Knight that asks her to step forward again. She’s reminded of a similar moment in the past, when another Knight towered above her, asking for her aid in war. So many contradictions in the past…unlike now. Yet this moment holds unknown dangers, uncertain truths as before. The positions of influence almost feel reversed. What if I’m not the right one to lead? My place in the galaxy is assumed, undefined. If I find out what’s happening, will it matter? Will the galaxy finally rise to meet the enemy, with the Jedi nearly gone still?… Something invisible tickes her shoulder, an oddly familiar feeling. She doesn’t know what it is. But it brings back her focus. Here, now. Chaos in harmony. She looks back into BASTILA’s eyes - an ally, a person trying to do good…and a plea for help. This is what matters. * MEETRA: “I understand” she says, with an affirmative nod. “We can start searching immediately. Where would you recommend we start?” * CARTH: “We have a couple of locations that have a good chance of finding these disturbances.” CARTH hands MEETRA his datapad. “We received reports from everywhere, but Republic intelligence thought these locations would be good places to start.” MEETRA studies the datapad, then hands it to her friends who observe it as well. BAO-DUR’s eyes move across the arranged lights on the screen. * BAO-DUR: “I can rig the HAWK’s sensors to look for residual gravimetric distortions or electromagnetic echoes - anything that lines up with the same timestamp. If it left no trail in the Force, maybe it left one in physics.” CARTH nods in affirmation. BASTILA’s face relaxes, with some relief replacing the tense color in her face. * CARTH: “That’s great. My men can assist with sourcing hardware and connecting it to your ship. It’s about time the HAWK had its scanners updated” he says with a knowing but kind smirk. * BASTILA: “Good. Thank you all. While you all make way in your search, we will push forward inside the Republic. The Admiral will make preparatory and reinforcement actions, while my status and connections will start pushing efforts through the Senate and in key worlds that can help with your efforts.” A small smile escaped her composed expression. <img src="Act1/Sojourn1AttonJoke.png" class="png"> ATTON leaned on the edge of the desk, smirking faintly despite the tension. * ATTON: “So we’ve got a galaxy-wide Force collapse, no obvious villain, a Republic just learning how to walk straight again, and the Jedi somehow have the brunt of the weight thrown on them right out of the gate. Fantastic.” MEETRA’s head turns on a swivel, surprised and caught off guard that ATTON would say such a thing to the people in the room. CARTH frowns, annoyed by the sarcasm. MIRA and BAO-DUR look down at the floor, knowingly embarrassed. BASTILA looks at him with eyes of confused offense. * BASTILA: "I see sarcasm is your preferred coping mechanism, ATTON. But forgive me if I’m not comforted by flippancy when the galaxy feels as if it’s unraveling.” Her tone deepens with edgy certainty. "And for the record, we’re not asking the Jedi to bear the weight - we’re simply asking them not to step aside as the galaxy is under threat. Yet again.” She turns away from him, busying her focus with her datapad. “A subtle difference, I trust even you can parse it." MEETRA, somewhere between mortified, irritated and exasperated, stands up hurriedly. * MEETRA: “BASTILA, CARTH, I’d like to close this conversation out with us three”, turning to her friends. “I will see the rest of you, out there, shortly.” The hint was taken before the sentence was finished - her companions shuffled out of the room quickly. <<set $Sojourn1SomethingReachingOut to "unlocked">> [[Find The Source->Sojourn1FindTheSource]]<</replace>><</link>>

THE SOJOURN: Find The Source * MEETRA (turning back to the desk): “ADMIRAL, AMBASSADOR - I’m sorry about ATTON. He’s normally more aware of sensitive conversations -” * CARTH (shaking his head and smiling): “It’s ok MEETRA. I understand him, I usually feel the same way about these things.” His smile moves to a knowing smirk. “Life changes people. That doesn’t make their feelings wrong.” * BASTILA (folding her hands): “I agree, I may have been…sharper than I intended. I know ATTON speaks from concern.” She exhales. "The truth is, I’m afraid. We all are. And when I’m afraid, I sometimes let control dress itself up as confidence." MEETRA nods her head, giving a grateful smile, thankful to hear they understand and see her friends for who they are, not always how they act. * CARTH (adjusting in his seat): “MEETRA - frankly I feel ready to commit my fleet to helping you. To all of you, because I know you'll do everything you can to find what's behind this." He pauses for a weighted moment. "But I can’t issue battle plans or unlock wartime resources without real answers. The Republic’s focused on rebuilding, they’ll barely be able to hold against another war again. You bring me evidence, a lead - something concrete - and you’ll have the whole Republic military behind you ready to attack before the war starts, I can promise you that.” <img src="Act1/Sojourn1FindTheSource.png" class="png"> BASTILA nods, her voice calm but firm. * BASTILA: “The same applies to me. My influence with the Senate has limits, but if you can uncover what caused these distortions, I can rally the support we need. Worlds are eager for peace, but they will not march against shadows.” BASTILA adjusts the screen on her datapad, sliding it across the table to MEETRA. * BASTILA: “In the meantime, you’ll need freedom in your search without interference. You’re being granted Republic representative clearance - diplomatic, military, and cultural. That means doors will open to you that would be closed to most Jedi.” * CARTH (nodding affirmatively): “Use it wisely. With this authority, you’ll not only be able to trace these distortions, but continue the reparations work the Jedi started - restoring cultures, healing Force wounds, giving the people reasons to believe again.” MEETRA takes the datapad slowly, the weight of her mantle pressing on her shoulders again. * MEETRA: “Whatever this is, we won’t let it consume the galaxy. We’ll find it, and stop it together.” After shaking both of their hands, MEETRA walks out of the office, her steps driven with purpose, determined to seek out this new unknown enemy. Lookout For a long moment, silence holds in the office, filled only by the shuffle of muffled sounds from the hallway. BASTILA speaks first, her voice soft, tinged with memory. * BASTILA: “I’m not sure what he would be saying now CARTH. “ She sighs deeply. “I’m not sure he would have let a meeting like this happen.” * CARTH (chuckling): “No, he probably would’ve been demanding everyone get into formation before they even knew there was an enemy.” His half-smile pulls at his cheeks, then changes into pursed lips. “‘Be ready…to watch the Republic. To guard it.’ I never forgot.” He stands from his chair, directing his eyes away from her. “I hope we’re ready. For whatever’s about to hit us.” BASTILA rises to meet him, holding his arm, expressing certain resolve. * BASTILA: “‘Trust yourself. Trust the Republic.’ That’s what he told me.” Her eyes, always piercing, flare with a special energy. “We’re trusting MEETRA and her friends now. We need to be ready for what they find.” CARTH nods, stoically agreeing with her, and takes his leave. As the door closes, her sharp hazel eyes glaze, the emotions of the last few moments take her in her privacy. Her breathing becomes deeper, her words tainted with bits of despair as she whispers to herself. * BASTILA: “Will you be ready, my love?... Will you still be the man I remember?” The questions disappear into the air, granting no reprieve to her decade of silence. The bleeding of her heart remains, and she moves on. "Pierce Your Soul" As MEETRA enters the docking bay again to board the EBON HAWK, ATTON jogs to walk in pace with her, trying to play off his previously embarrassing behavior. * ATTON: “Hey uh - about what I said in there. I was just trying to lighten things up, you know? Break the tension. You saw the looks they were giving me - look, I didn’t mean - ” She doesn’t stop walking, providing no reaction. The clack of her boots on the metal ramp is the only sound she makes. * ATTON (fumbling): “I mean, if I had known BASTILA was doing a ‘pierce-your-soul-with-a-stare’ routine, I’d have kept my mouth shut. Probably.” <img src="Act1/Sojourn1PierceYourSoul.png" class="png"> She walks up the HAWK’s boarding ramp without turning. He continues to pursue behind her. * ATTON (pleading): “C’mon, don’t give me the silent treatment. I didn’t know she would take my words so bad. I’m trying here. I’m really sorry!” MEETRA steps inside the communications room, rests her hand on the control to seal the room - and finally glances back, eyes sharp as a vibroblade. * MEETRA: “Try quieter.” The door hisses shut on his face. ATTON stands in the hallway, muttering to himself. * ATTON: “Yeah. Real smooth, RAND. Real kriffing smooth.” He kicks the hull on his way to the cockpit, grumbling and sulking, as he plops down into the pilot’s seat, distracting himself with the ship’s systems. <<set $Sojourn1FindTheSource to "unlocked">> <<set $activeCharacters = ["MEETRA", "T3-M4", "ATTON", "BAO-DUR", "MIRA"]>> [[Before It Reaches The Core->EbonHawk1SearchingForDistortions]]

THE SOJOURN: Before It Reaches The Core A day after arriving at the SOJOURN, the HEROES are ready to depart on their journey: searching for the source of the one-time disturbances. The destination of their first visit remains unanswered, which leads to a gathering in the EBON HAWK’s main hold, various planets in the galaxy projecting from the holotable. <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1Searching.png" class="png"> * ATTON (leaning against the table): “So, we’re chasing ghost signals from half a galaxy away. Don’t suppose anyone’s got a map that points to ‘Unknown Enemy of the Week’?” * BAO-DUR (examining the holomap): “Not ghosts. Disturbances. With the ADMIRAL’s field echo arrays scanning on the quantum level, we’ll be able to scan deeper than what was used to track gravity rifts over Malachor. If CARTH’s coordinates are right, we’ll find traces of disturbances on at least two worlds.” * MIRA (resistive): “Traces? Fantastic. So we’re hunting the cousins of feelings now. You have fun with that, I’ll prep the guns in case the feelings shoot back.” * ATTON (grinning): “You’re assuming they won’t. Trust me, MIRA - ‘feelings’ usually shoot back when she’s in charge”, angling his head toward MEETRA. * MEETRA (dryly): “I remember the last time you volunteered sarcasm as a battle plan, ATTON. We almost didn’t survive Corellia.” * ATTON (shrugging): “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” * MEETRA (voice lowered): “Barely.” A small series of beeps from T3-M4 as he projects details in the star charts. * BAO-DUR (examining the grafted data): “T3’s found residual energy signatures across all of these planets. But this one on Tython looks...different. Not absent, but thinned.” * MEETRA (thoughtful): “Tython was the birthplace of the Jedi’s first teachings. If the Force itself is being distorted, and Tython has natural resistance to it - that’s our best opportunity to understand it right now.” * MIRA (scoffs): “‘Understand it’? You mean where we’ll get struck by lightning and chased by Force ghosts again.” * ATTON (mock-whispering to her): “See? Feelings. Always shoot back.” MEETRA shoots him a warning look. He smirks but quiets. * BAO-DUR: “If these disturbances spread, they could destabilize natural patterns like hyperspace traffic. The Republic’s just recovered from the last war. We can’t afford another galaxy-wide collapse while space lanes change.” * MEETRA: “Then we find the cause before it reaches the Core.” A soft moment of silence. The hum of the ship fills the pause. Everyone looks at the map. * ATTON (softly): “What are the odds that this is the same thing Revan went after?” * MEETRA (after a long beat): “I think this is what he feared we’d find.” T3-M4 chirps uneasily. MIRA crosses her arms, uncomfortable. * MIRA: “Great. So - the galaxy’s falling apart again, and the only ones trying to fix it are the same galactic forces who broke it the last three times.” * BAO-DUR (glancing at her): “Technically…that’s accurate.” * MIRA (deadpan): “Thank you, BAO-DUR.” * ATTON (mock saluting to MEETRA): “Alright, fearless leader. Where to first?” MEETRA observes the map, considers one more time, then points to the center. * MEETRA: “Tython.” She starts walking to the cockpit. “If the Force is trying to tell us something, that’s where it’ll speak the loudest.” * ATTON (grinning): “Guess we’re about to find out if the Force has good manners.” T3 whistles affirmatively. The crew of the EBON HAWK break away to assume their stations. In a short amount of time, the SOJOURN’s docking bay doors open again, allowing the HAWK to separate and disembark. <img src="Act1/Sojourn1SafeJourneys.png" class="png"> As the storied freighter’s engines push it away from the Hammerhead flagship, Admiral CARTH looks on from his ship’s bridge. Shades of mixed feelings filter in and out of his thoughts. He quietly wonders how many corners of the galaxy that ship has visited, how many atmospheres it’s broken into, how many repairs it’s endured…how much of it is still the original pieces. * CARTH (whispering to himself): “Safe journeys, Exile” as the EBON HAWK surges into hyperspace. <<set $EbonHawk1SearchingForDistortions to "unlocked">><<set $Tython1Explore to "">> [[Search For Distortions->EbonHawk1.1]]

EBON HAWK: Searching for Distortions <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1HeroesJoleeMap.png" class="png"> Planets to Visit * <<if !$Manaan1 and !$Manaan1Explore>>[[Manaan:->Manaan1]] Further Jedi interests, address kolto decline, and address possible Force Distortions.<<elseif $Manaan1 is "Banished">>Manaan: The Jedi are no longer welcome on the planet.<<elseif $Manaan1IsoHelpMical is "Dark">>Manaan: The Republic's kolto is secure, evidence of the Distortions were found.<<elseif $Manaan1>>Manaan: The Republic's kolto is secure, evidence of the Distortions were found, but the JEDI are banned from the planet.<<elseif !$Manaan1 and $Manaan1Explore is "Unlocked">>[[Manaan:->Manaan1Explore]] Further Jedi interests, address kolto decline, and address possible Force Distortions.<</if>> * <<if $Telos1Explore>>[[Telos IV:->Telos1Explore]] Help restoration efforts, search for Force Distortions.<<else>>[[Telos IV:->Telos1Arrival]] Help restoration efforts, search for Force Distortions.<</if>> * <<if !$MalachorV>>[[Malachor V:->MalachorV1]] Search for Distortions in the remains of the Sith World.<<else>>Malachor V: The Distortions are not coming from the dead Sith World.<</if>> * <<if !$Dantooine1Ruins2Memories>>[[Dantooine:->Dantooine1]] Regroup, make a plan with the information collected.<<else>>[[Dantooine:->Dantooine1Ruins2Memories]] Regroup, make a plan with the information collected.<</if>> HEROES and Allies MEETRA and... * [[ATTON->Atton1]] * [[T3-M4->T3M41]] * [[BAO-DUR->BaoDur1]] * [[MIRA->Mira1]] * [[MICAL->Mical1]] * [[BASTILA->Bastila1]] * [[CARTH->Carth1]] * [[JOLEE->Jolee1]] [[Review Galactic history->Datapad]]

TYTHON <img src="Act1/Tython1Arrival.png" class="png"> In the darkness between stars, a galaxy turns like a slow moving storm. Its arms - silver, blue, and gold - stretch outward into infinity, glittering with the breath of countless suns. Nebulae drift like oceans of color, where light is born and dies in the same exhale. The spiral is vast, elegant, and alive…a poem written of gravity and fire. Past the glowing arms and into the shadowed core, light bends and dances around something older than some of the stars that shine at it. There, in the galactic heart, where gravity hums like the pulse of creation, lies a world unseen and forgotten by most - a planet that should not exist, yet endures. Its surface shimmers with storms that speak in thunder and wind, and its skies are heavy with the whispers of the Force. Tython - the cradle of knowledge, the paradox of balance, the place where the Force dreams. Now, through the glittering dark, the EBON HAWK pierces the silence. Its hull bears the scars of wars long past, but its engines sing like an echo of purpose reborn. The ship glides through the swirling clouds of Tython’s atmosphere, its path lit by the blue-white glow of ion fire and the trembling auroras that crown the world below. In the distance, lightning flashes, illuminating ruins untouched since the dawn of the Jedi. Here, in the heart of the galaxy, the Force breathes not as myth…but as truth. A World of the Force <img src="Act1/Tython1Landing.png" class="png"> The EBON HAWK settles onto a stone landing platform. Pale mist coils around the struts as the ramp lowers, revealing a world bathed in layered light - sun filtering through drifting clouds, wind stirring tall grasses that bend not chaotically, but in slow, measured rhythm. MEETRA steps down first. The moment her boots touch Tython’s soil, the Force answers, recognizing her. It flows up through the ground and into her, like a breath she forgot she was holding. Every time she comes here, the balance she finds in herself is unique in a way she has not felt since before her exile. Here, the Force does not fluctuate; it holds the tension between extremes, neither light nor dark claiming dominance. ATTON follows, and quickly stiffens, hands flexing unconsciously at his side. The Force presses against him in places he keeps locked away, brushing old guilt, old instincts he thought buried. * ATTON (muttering): “Yeah…” feeling his stomach turn. “That’s…that’s a lot.” MIRA steps down next and feels it too, her breath catching at the sharpness of it. The planet doesn’t judge her, but it doesn’t let her hide either. The Force here is welcoming, with an honesty she doesn’t recognize. It brushes against her survival instincts. BAO-DUR pauses at the base of the ramp, eyes distant as he sinks into the sensation. The Force hums around him like a resonance field. For the first time in years, the weight on his shoulders eases. His mechanical arm even feels lighter in the atmosphere of this world. T3-M4 rolls down last, dome swiveling, emitting a curious electronic trill. He feels nothing in the Force - but the others do, and the shift in their posture registers clearly in his sensors. Whatever this place is, it matters. MEETRA closes her eyes briefly. The feeling is unmistakable. Home. She remembers in the early parts of her life how it felt. It’s such a comfort to feel it again, fresh. Old Friends Footsteps approach along the stone path ahead. MASTER JOLEE BINDO emerges first, walking with easy familiarity, staff in hand, eyes already twinkling with curiosity. Beside him stands MASTER JUHANI, calm and composed, her presence steady in the Force like an anchor set deep into bedrock. * JOLEE (warmly): “Well now,” spreading his hands. “If it isn’t the most interesting collection of trouble I’ve felt in a long while.” JUHANI inclines her head respectfully toward MEETRA, a soft smile touching her expression. * JUHANI: “Welcome back to Tython. It has been…attentive since your approach.” <img src="Act1/Tython1Welcome.png" class="png"> MEETRA exhales, tension easing from her shoulders. * MEETRA: “It feels like it knows we’re here.” * JOLEE (snorts lightly): “Oh, it knows. This planet always knows. You step out of balance, it answers. Sometimes gently. Sometimes with earthquakes!” He gestures around them with his staff. “You may’ve noticed things shifting on your way down. Winds turning. The air pressing back just a bit. That’s Tython adjusting. Responding.” JUHANI nods to the HEROES who are experiencing this for the first time - ATTON, MIRA, BAO-DUR * JUHANI: “The Force here exists in equilibrium. Light and dark are not enemies on this world - they are forces in tension. When that balance is disturbed, the land reflects it. Storms. Quakes. Instability. The same is true for those who walk upon it.” Her gaze briefly meets ATTON’s, then MIRA’s. “But when one finds balance within themselves…the planet becomes still around them.” * JOLEE (grinning) “Which is Tython’s polite way of saying, behave yourself or the ground starts arguing back.” A faint smile flickers across ATTON’s face despite himself. * JOLEE (turning): “Come on. The Enclave’s expecting you. And I’ve got a feeling you’ll want to see where this path leads.” <<set $Tython1Arrival to "unlocked">> [[Foundations->Tython1Foundations]]

DANTOOINE <img src="Act1/Dantooine1Arrival.png" class="png"> The EBON HAWK breaks from hyperspace into the soft gold of Dantooine’s orbit - a world wrapped in calm and renewal. From above, the planet glows like a lantern in the void, its cloud-swirled plains and rivers glinting beneath a rising dawn. The bombardments, the broken soil, the shattered fields - the scars of war have begun to fade into green again. As the ship descends through the atmosphere, the light bends across the durasteel hull, streaking the cockpit glass with amber and pale blue. Below, the plains stretch for miles, a sea of tall grass rippling like the surface of an unseen ocean. Here and there, the outlines of new farms and wind-towers mark the return of life and industry. The Khoonda outpost itself gleams brighter than it once did: rebuilt stone by stone, its domes and courtyards now framed by flowering trees and copper roofs. Farmers and workers shuffle about, helping the land and its people heal and prosper. The HAWK drifts lower, engines humming softly as the plains sweep by, and for the first time in a long while, hope feels near enough to touch. MIRA leans over ATTON in the pilot's chair to get a better look at the city outside. * MIRA: “First time I saw this place, it was dust and mercs. Now it almost looks…peaceful.” * ATTON (smirks, arms crossed): “Careful, MIRA. If you start liking peace and quiet, the galaxy might stop spinning.” * MEETRA (soft but firm): “Khoonda’s endured worse than mercenaries. This -” gesturing to the farms below “- this is Dantooine’s strength. Not the Jedi, not the Republic. The people.” * BAO-DUR (nodding, thoughtful): “They’ve rebuilt faster than I expected. Strong foundations will do that. Even after a war.” * JOLEE (from behind them, dry tone): “Hmph. Strong foundations, sure. Still…nice to see one world that remembers how to breathe.” Return to the Enclave <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> Once landed, the HEROES walk the dirt road leading toward the Enclave, wind rolling through the grass. Farmers and settlers pass by, giving curious looks but also respectful nods to the returning Jedi and their companions. The Khoonda outpost fades behind them as the HEROES follow the winding dirt road that cuts through Dantooine’s endless grasslands. The plains sway in soft waves beneath a pale morning sun, the air filled with the hum of insects and the distant calls of grazing beasts. The wind smells of healthy soil, and rain yet to come - a reminder that even the most broken world can find its breath again. The ruins of the Jedi Enclave rise ahead, half reclaimed by the earth, half restored by patient hands. The domed roofs glint faintly in the distance, surrounded by young trees planted in concentric lines - symbols of renewal growing from soil once scarred by fire. Vines crawl up parts of the walls, as if to say life is found here again. Sunlight catches on the edges of the stonework, giving the rebuilt Enclave an almost sacred stillness - as if the Force itself lingers here, remembering. For a moment, the group pauses. The wind passes through them, bending the grass, carrying the faint sound of laughter from the outpost far behind. MEETRA closes her eyes, taking in the warmth of the sun on her face - she really does find fleeting moments of peace here. * MEETRA (prideful): I know it’s been a while since you’ve all been here. I haven’t changed much of the outside, but that might be just fine. ATTON runs a hand through his hair, half-grinning. * ATTON: “Every time I think I’ve seen the last of this place… we turn that corner, and bam. Same view, same broken walls made whole. Never gets old.” * MIRA: “Yeah, a real heart-warmer. Until something tries to blow it up again.” * MEETRA (smiling faintly): “Not this time. The Enclave’s standing again. We’re going to make sure it stays that way.” * JOLEE (smirking): “Heh. Maybe that’s what healing looks like, General.” He self-consciously scratches the side of his neck. “Never thought I’d see this place standing again. Feels good to be wrong.” * BAO-DUR (quietly to himself): “To see it whole again…almost feels like erasing a scar.” MEETRA quietly relishes in their words, her faint smile giving way to a warm one. T3-M4 lets out a happy trill, spinning his dome. MEETRA pats BAO-DUR's side as they reach the stone archway, entering the restored Enclave. <<set $Dantooine1 to "unlocked">> <<set $activeCharacters = ["MEETRA", "T3-M4", "ATTON", "BAO-DUR", "MIRA", "JOLEE"]>> [[From Ruins to Memores->Dantooine1Ruins2Memories]]

TYTHON: Foundation They follow as the stone trail winds through tall grass and ancient trees, their branches etched with faint mineral veins that glow softly in the light, as the trees on the path start to thin. Light opens ahead… …a remarkable triangle-like structure reveals itself. It rises from the earth like a thought made solid. A precise, angular mass of dark stone, its surfaces etched with lines that do not resemble language so much as intention. The structure is anchored into the land it occupies. <img src="Act1/Tython1ThoYor.png" class="png"> ATTON slows without realizing it. MIRA stops outright. They can feel the Force gathers around the Tho Yor in layered currents - light and dark interwoven, neither resisting the other, neither prevailing, flowing in a disconnected type of rythym. * JOLEE (quietly): “That,” tilting his head up, “is one of the Tho Yor.” BAO-DUR studies it with an engineer’s instinct, eyes tracing impossible angles. * BAO-DUR: “It doesn’t look…built. More like it was put there.” His eyes pour over every feature of it, his engineer’s curiosity activated * JOLEE: “That’s the polite argument, yes.” * JUHANI (gazing at the structure): “The oldest records do not agree on who raised them. Only that they arrived long before the Jedi, or anything else.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “The Je’daii believed the Tho Yor were teachers. Or invitations. They did not instruct with words. They simply were.” * BAO-DUR (awed): “Incredible. I’ve never seen anything like them.” * JUHANI (continuing): “The Je’daii gathered around these. They believed the structures were meant to be lived beside. They formed here not through doctrine, but through observation. When storms raged, they studied why. When the land fractured, they listened. Balance was a regular pattern of survival to them.” * JOLEE (letting out a soft breath): “And that’s the part that makes people uncomfortable. No grand prophecy. No chosen ones. Just a reminder that if you lean too far one way or the other - the galaxy pushes back.” MIRA folds her arms, eyes never leaving the massive structure. * MIRA: “So no one knows who made them.” * JOLEE: “No one who’s still talking.” As they pass beneath the Tho Yor’s shadow, it presses against MEETRA’s senses with a calm that borders on disquieting. It’s a new feeling that wasn’t present in her last visits. She reaches out to it now… and feels a density. The layered currents around the Tho Yor overlap and resonate deeper now. As though the structure is listening harder than it once did. JOLEE feels her exploration, and simply glances at her, one eyebrow lifting a fraction, his staff tapping once against the stone - an old, familiar signal. You feel it too. MEETRA gives the smallest nod in return, keeping her expression neutral. Whatever this is, it isn’t wrong. But it isn’t normal either. JOLEE exhales through his nose, thoughtful, then turns away from the Tho Yor with a practiced ease that feels deliberate. * JOLEE: “Well,” he says lightly, already moving, “standing around letting ancient Force monuments stare at us isn’t why we came.” He gestures down the winding path ahead, where stone terraces and living structures begin to emerge through the trees. “Come on…the Enclave’s waiting.” The HEROES follow, the Tho Yor left behind them - silent, but very much awake. The Tython Enclave The path widens as the trees pull back, revealing the Tython Enclave in full. It doesn’t come close to the importance of the Coruscant temple, or the establishment of the Dantooine enclave; it feels intentional, like a defined beginning. Stone structures rise in careful symmetry around a central hall, their lines curved and grounded, grown outward from the land rather than imposed upon it. Warm light spills from narrow windows. The stone bears recent tool marks, every placement feels deliberate, as though the builders listened before they laid the first foundation. <img src="Act1/Tython1TempleArrival.png" class="png"> * ATTON (squinting at it): “That’s…more than I expected.” * JOLEE (smiling faintly): “Funny thing about places built with patience. They tend to grow faster than people expect.” Around the Enclave, the Force circulates differently than it does anywhere else MEETRA has stood, going in multiple directions. Ashla and Bogan intertwine openly here in open conversation. Light and Dark exist as invisible tides, each shaping the other, each kept in check by awareness rather than suppression. A dozen figures, probably more, move across the open grounds. Jedi in training, scattered in small groups. Some practice forms with sabers unlit, focusing on breathing through motion. Others sit in meditation circles that subtly shift as emotions ripple outward, instructors guiding toward equilibrium. A pair spar slowly, deliberately allowing openings, learning the rhythms and tells of responses. * JUHANI (quietly): “These aren’t like the Jedi you knew,” sensing ATTON’s attention. “Tython does not reward denial. Those who train here learn early that imbalance can come from refusal of it, and polarization.” * JOLEE (nodding): “We don’t teach them to fear Bogan. We teach them to recognize it. Same with Ashla. We show them the Force as a current. Fight the water and you drown. Learn to move with it…and you survive.” BAO-DUR watches one of the groups, eyes narrowing with thoughtful intensity. * BAO-DUR: “They’re…stabilizing themselves. Actively.” * JOLEE: “Exactly. Balance as a skill…not a slogan.” Before MEETRA can respond, a sudden burst of motion breaks the calm. A group of younger Padawans - most of who they’re observing - spot them. Whispers ripple through the Enclave like a spark catching dry grass. She can imagine their reaction. That’s her. That’s Atton Rand. Is that really Bao-Dur? They were at Malachor - The Padawans rush forward, barely containing their excitement. One nearly trips over a stone before regaining balance, another blurts out a question before realizing there are many questions competing to escape at once. ATTON stiffens immediately, hand drifting unconsciously toward his belt. MIRA shifts her stance, eyes sharp, measuring intent. Old instincts flare - crowds meant danger once. But the Padawans stop short, wide-eyed and reverent rather than threatening. “Is it true you fought Revan?” “Did you really stand against Nihilus?” “What was Malachor like?” “Is the Force different out there?” Their voices overlap, breathless and unguarded. MEETRA raises a hand gently, and the questions falter. She can see their awed curiosity, and the raw intensity of those who believe the galaxy can still be understood. JOLEE watches the exchange with quiet approval. * JOLEE (murmuring): “Careful. You lot about to become a cautionary tale and a bedtime story.” * JUHANI (calm and warm, stepping forward): “Easy. You’ll have time for questions. Legends are still people - especially when they’re tired.” The Padawans laugh sheepishly, though their eyes never fully leave the HEROES. As they continue deeper into the Enclave, the HEROES see how unique this place truly is; their roots and foundations are young, but they listen better than most places in the galaxy. <<set $Tython1Explore to "unlocked">> [[Explore the Tython Enclave->Tython1Explore1]]

DANTOOINE: From Ruins to Memories <img src="Act1/" class="png"> The doors groan open, dust sliding down from the archway. The HEROES step into the cool, dim hall of the Enclave. Where once there was rubble and ruin, now there are rows of crates, shelves sagging with datapads, lightsabers in disrepair, broken droids, Jedi robes folded and frayed. Relics from across the galaxy stacked shoulder-to-shoulder, with no clear system to the chaos. The place feels less like a Jedi temple and more like a vault that swallowing history. MIRA wrinkles her nose, scanning the piles. * MIRA: “Looks like someone’s been running a galactic garage sale.” * ATTON (grinning): “Or a hoarder’s paradise." He nudges a crate with his boot. "Careful, MIRA - touch the wrong shiny rock and it’ll lecture you about balance in the Force.” * JOLEE (snorts): “Careful mocking the relics, kids. Some of those rocks lectured me when your grandparents were still learning to walk.” ATTON gives him a side look. BAO-DUR kneels, picking up a cracked holocron, his hands gently respectful. * BAO-DUR (voice respectful): “It’s not pretty, but it’s something. Every scrap here is a piece of the Order…the pieces you refused to let vanish.” MEETRA sets her satchel down on a cluttered table, already buried in artifacts. She sighs, displaying her dissatisfaction with such hallowed ground. * MEETRA: “It’s not organized, not yet. But at least they’re safe. The Jedi lost too much to let what remains scatter again.” * JOLEE (examining a canister): “Safe is a start. But don’t mistake safety for purpose. The Jedi built archives like fortresses - and look how that turned out. Maybe a little mess is what the galaxy needs.” T3-M4 warbles in agreement, projecting a flickering holo of the artifacts catalogued from their recent missions - each entry popping up disjointed, overlaying another. The droid lets out a frustrated beep. * ATTON (half-chuckling): “Figures. Even the droid’s database is having a panic attack.” MEETRA brushes dust from an old Jedi robe. MIRA continues to look around, her face showing her unease, crossing her arms * MIRA: “All this…it feels heavy. Like every corner is stuffed with ghosts.” * MEETRA (sighs): “They are. But they’re our ghosts now. The weight…the memory…it has to start somewhere.” She lingers on the scattered shelves, the relics lit by faint daylight streaming in through cracked stone. What was once ruin is now a vault of memory - messy, fragile, but undeniably alive. * [[Check in with the HEROES->Dantooine1Heroes]] * [[Consideration of the Present->Dantooine1Consideration]] * [[Catch up on Recent Events->Datapad]] <<set $Dantooine1Ruins2Memories to "unlocked">> [[Return to the EBON HAWK->EbonHawk1.2]]

DANTOOINE: Consideration of the Present <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> Sunlight spills through the fractured roof of the Enclave’s council hall. Dust glows in the air, sifting every beam of light that falls across the long circle of stone seats. For the first time in years, the room feels alive - the grass reclaiming the edges of the floor, the sound of wind in the distance, birds in the sky echoing faintly. In a similar fashion, MEETRA, JOLEE, BAO-DUR, MIRA, ATTON, and T3-M4 sit gathered around a central table, embedded with a semi-faded and worn Jedi Order symbol on it. T3 chirps, projecting a faint scatter of blue points - every “maybe” they chased since leaving the Sojourn. <<link "The Plan">><<replace "#Plan">> The Plan * MEETRA (measured): “Ok, we didn’t find the source - only traces. No pattern, no locus, no signature we can pin to a faction.” * BAO-DUR (calm, precise): “But we can certify a few facts. One, the anomalies are real, not sensor noise. Two, they present themselves as short-lived phase skews in local Force resonance - call it ‘soft bends’, not ruptures. Three, they’re reproducible in the sense that different instruments caught the same skew within the same minute timeframe.” * ATTON (dry): “Translation for the Senate: ‘We found smoke, no fire. Recommend we bring water tanks anyway.’” * MIRA (practical): “Tanks and a map. If we can’t hunt what we can’t see, we make it show itself. Pressure the lanes, narrow the windows, bait the trap.” * JOLEE (wry, then serious): “So what do we tell CARTH and BASTILA besides ‘trust us, it tingled’?” * MEETRA (decisive): “We bring a plan, not a prophecy.” She taps the table; T3 rotates the holo into labeled shards of data. * MEETRA (tapping the holo controls): “Here’s what goes in the report…” Verification: Multiple platforms confirmed transient distortions (EBON HAWK primary array; borrowed Republic sweep gear; one Jedi attunement test). Character: Micro-duration, low-amplitude bends - no thermal, EM, or mass spikes; nothing conventional. Constraints: No fixed origin; events vanish in under a minute; spacing suggests a roaming phenomenon or multiple small emitters. Risk Posture: Low immediate threat indicators; high strategic concern if frequency or amplitude trends upward. * BAO-DUR (changing the holoproject to the next page): “And here’s how we move forward, with or without command approval…” Sensor Net (Phase-Gate Array): Prototype a portable “harmonic gate” rig - cheap, modular, Jedi-tuned. Plant them along main trade corridors and backwater junctions. Jedi Signal Corps (Small-Footprint): Two-person cells - one Knight, one tech - rotate between beacons. No big temples to paint targets on. Data Spine: T3 aggregates and normalizes readings aboard the HAWK; nightly bursts to Sojourn for analysts from Bastila and Republic Scientists. Trigger Protocol: If a beacon flags a strong bend, nearest cell holds position, logs duration, does not engage, and calls us. * ATTON: “My part: I’ll tap Nar Shaddaa lanes. Smugglers feel gravity shifts in their bones. If anything’s tugging at hyperspace, they’ll complain - loudly.” * MIRA: “I’ll line up safehouses and clean routes, no questions asked, fast exfiltration if a cell spooks something real. Hunters need holes.” * JOLEE: “I’ll rustle the old network. Not Council business, just quiet friends in quiet places. Ask them to listen for the silence between storms.” * MEETRA (nodding): “And I’ll make this enclave useful. Training, curation, quiet resupply. We keep it small, disciplined, and ready.” T3 beeps twice, stamping the holo with a header: “Distortion Findings: Preliminary, Actionable.” * MEETRA (final): “We tell CARTH and BASTILA exactly this: No enemy to name. A phenomenon to verify. A lean grid to catch it. Minimal footprint. Shared visibility. If they sign off, we seed the first beacons within a week. If they don’t, we seed them anyway with friends and favors.” * ATTON (half-smile): “See? Tanks and a map.” * JOLEE (softening): “Tanks, a map… and a little faith. I’ll say this much - you’ve done well, kid. Half the galaxy’s still patching itself together, and somehow you’re working through this galactic mess. You even turned this place -” motioning to the Enclave “- into something almost sacred again.” * MEETRA: “It’s not sacred. It’s…familiar. I needed a place that felt…appropriate.” She brushes a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I started collecting what I could find - anything that survived the Purge, the Civil War, the Dark Wars. Most of it’s broken, but it’s something to build from.” * MIRA (softly, but not unkindly): “You sure it’s the galaxy that needs fixing, not you? Last I checked, the Republic’s actually holding together this time.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Galaxy’s Recovery">><<replace "#Recovery">>The Galaxy’s Recovery * BAO-DUR: “She’s right. Time’s doing what it should. The Senate’s starting to come out of its haze. Ithorian terraforming’s ahead of schedule on Telos - the surface is greener every week. Even Nar Shaddaa’s stabilizing; the Hutts are running trade instead of slave rings.” He stares with intent at MEETRA. “You did that, General. You gave people enough peace to start over.” * MEETRA: “I fought to stop wars, not rebuild governments.” She pauses, catching that her words may have come off as needlessly defensive. “But hearing that helps.” * ATTON (casually stretching): “Yeah, the Republic’s back on its feet - which means they’ll find new ways to shoot themselves in it. You think bureaucracy suddenly learned how to walk straight?” * JOLEE: “Let the politicians worry about walking. I’m more interested that people are breathing again. Crime’s down, trade’s up, the Jedi aren’t public enemy number one. That’s worth a few cautious smiles.” * MIRA: “People trusting Jedi again - that’s the miracle. After Revan, Malak, the gang of three…I didn’t think they’d ever want a Jedi in the same system.” * MEETRA (feigning dejection): “They don’t want Jedi. They want symbols.” She looks around at the dusty chamber, the relics of robes and crystal shards. “They want to believe that there’s still good out there - something incorruptible. But we’re still the same. Still fallible.” * JOLEE: “Maybe that’s the point. They’re not looking for gods. They’re looking for proof that people can fall and still get up again.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Sith’s Shadow">><<replace "#Sith">>The Sith’s Shadow * ATTON: “Speaking of falling - you really think we’ve seen the last of the Sith?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the table. “Traya’s dead, sure. Nihilus, gone. Sion, he fell apart…literally. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the galaxy never runs out of bastards with red lightsabers.” * JOLEE: “You’re not wrong. But they were trying to bring the end of something, not the start. The woman you traveled with, she wasn’t trying to rule the galaxy; she was trying to erase it. You can’t build an empire from that. The darkness needs ambition, not despair.” MIRA: “And what if Kreia was right? What if there really is something wrong with the Force - these distortions we keep hearing about?” The question hovers for a moment, poking at everyone’s unspoken fear. Predictably, the mechanic is the first to answer. * BAO-DUR: “I’ve studied the reports. Magnetic fields are stable, gravitic readings are clean. Whatever’s happening, it isn’t a Sith fleet. I’d bet on something naturally dangerous before I’d bet on another cult.” * ATTON: “Or it’s something worse we don’t understand yet.” * MEETRA: “That’s what scares me.” Her voice is low. “For thirty years, I’ve fought one war after another. There were wars before my time,” she says in an exasperated tone, motioning to JOLEE. “Every time that war ended, a new war rose in its place. Every silence feels like the pause before the next attack.” MEETRA looks up toward the sunlight breaking through the ceiling. She was sharing too much of the weight on her heart. This Jedi Enclave was barely erected before Exar Kun’s Great Sith war unleashed. The righteousness of the Jedi and the Light Side keeps getting knocked down by the unrelenting attacks of the Sith. The universal logic of the unending war of good vs evil rings too loudly in her ears…and she feels there is no way to know when it will stop. * MEETRA (sighing, collecting herself): “I can’t tell if I’m being cautious… or paranoid.” * JOLEE (folding his hands on the table, staring at MEETRA intently): “You’re not paranoid. You’re just tired. The galaxy doesn’t feel safe because it never truly is. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth living in,” he says, giving her a comforting smile. MEETRA smiles back, understanding what JOLEE was saying. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Revan’s Legacy">><<replace "#Revan">>Revan’s Legacy * MIRA (slightly sarcastically): “…Do you ever think about him coming back, though?” A quiet falls over the group at the mention of the name none of them have spoken yet. * MEETRA (softly): “Every day.” She closes her eyes, her voice lowered. “Revan was always one step ahead - seeing patterns no one else could. I used to think he left because he saw something terrible coming. Now I wonder if he just…couldn’t stop running.” * JOLEE: “Revan never did know when to rest. He burned bright and fast. The galaxy’s probably lucky he didn’t burn it down twice.” * ATTON: “If he’s still alive out there, he’s probably driving someone insane with preparation drills.” * MEETRA: “He believed in purpose. In fighting because it mattered. And I believed in him.” Her eyes soften. “Maybe too much.” * BAO-DUR: “He believed in you too, General. The things he left behind, maybe he wanted you to carry it because he knew you could.” * MEETRA (exhaling): “Maybe. Or maybe I was just the next soldier he could trust to keep fighting when he couldn’t.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Healing Is Real">><<replace "#Healing">>The Healing Is Real * JOLEE (gruffly encouraging): “The heavy fighting’s done, MEETRA. You can put the saber down for a while. The galaxy’s not falling apart - not today.” * MEETRA: “That’s what scares me the most. If I stop being ready, I won’t know how to start again.” She glances around the chamber, her eyes tracing the rebuilt stonework and disorganized artifacts. “I want to tell myself I can rest. I can stay here. Maybe teach. Maybe live something that isn’t survival.” A long pause. * MIRA: “You can. We all can. Doesn’t mean we stop caring - just means we start living.” * ATTON: “If you can’t believe the galaxy’s healing, believe in us. None of us thought we’d make it this far. That’s gotta count for something.” MEETRA looks at her friends, their words melting into her chest, truly considering their empathic insistence. * MEETRA (smiling faintly, eyes starting to gloss): “It does.” The silence that follows is uniquely warm between the friends and companions. The buzz of the plains outside carries through the open archways. T3 chirps softly and rolls forward, projecting a faint holo-map. In the Expansion Rim of the galaxy, near Umbara - flickers of blue distortion shimmer across the display. All of the HEROES lean in. * BAO-DUR (brow furrowing): “Distortion readings again. Stronger this time.” MEETRA stares at the faint anomalies - quiet ripples in the Force, distant but growing. Her smile gone. * MEETRA (calm and steady voice): “Then maybe rest will have to wait a little longer.” The group exchanges knowing looks. The hope of Dantooine lingers in the air, but beneath it, something unseen begins to stir. <<set $Dantooine1Consideration to "unlocked">> [[Heavy Distortion->Dantooine1HeavyDistortion]]<</replace>><</link>>

DANTOOINE: Heavy Distortion <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> T3 chirps softly and rolls forward, projecting a faint holo-map. In the Expansion Rim of the galaxy, near Umbara - flickers of blue distortion shimmer across the display. All of the HEROES lean in. * BAO-DUR (brow furrowing): “Distortion readings again. Stronger this time.” MEETRA stares at the faint anomalies - quiet ripples in the Force, distant but growing. Her smile gone. * MEETRA (calm and steady voice):* “Then maybe rest will have to wait a little longer.” The group exchanges knowing looks. The hope of Dantooine lingers in the air, but beneath it, something unseen begins to stir. The holo-map above the table flickers - points of blue light pulsing in rhythm as the HEROES discuss how to track the next wave of distortions. The air hums with quiet anticipation. * MIRA (leaning forward, eyes bright): “If these readings are real, it means someone - or something - is moving. We’re not just looking at accidents. We’re looking at intent.” * ATTON (humorless smirk): “Intent’s just another word for bad news.” * JOLEE: “Bad news or not, it’s the first sign we’ve had of anything alive out there. Don’t waste hope just because it scares you.” They keep speaking - overlapping voices, theories, data, instinct - as MEETRA watches them, listening to each word - the sound of her friend’s voices echoing in the high, stone chamber. She should feel pride. Relief. Something. Instead, there’s only the faint hum of unease pressing at the edge of her hearing, like stati- The sound changes. The hum deepens. Light shifts. The room bends like a memory. She’s falling forward – Her stomach lurches. She can’t move. Can’t think. Warmth is gone - replaced by a choking weight over her face that drags her under the surface of something vast. It isn’t cold - it’s searing, like molten metal poured through her veins. BURNING HER ALIVE She tries to reach for the others, but her hands don’t move. Her body isn’t here. Every instinct screams to find center, to ground, but there is no ground - only heat and sound and a rhythm like a heartbeat the size of a planet. Low voices. Layered. Wrong. They aren’t words at first, just vibrations that turn to pain inside her skull. Then, as if the Force wants her to understand, the vibrations take shape…. “Tash thran vek….” You carried the wound… “Shaar veth kar dosh va nash…” You fed it blood and silence… “Nox ven thranis ta korash.” Now it remembers your name. She tries to scream, but the sound doesn’t leave her throat. This isn’t like the last attack - cold, lifeless, still. This is fire. Rage. Conscious. IT’S LOOKING BACK AT HER Every thought is melting, slipping away, but through the haze she feels them…her friends - distant, faint, like candlelight flickering through smoke. Their presence ripples somewhere within the storm. Weak, unmoving, but there. She grabs onto the faint sense of them - not with strength, but desperation. She pushes everything else away. The heat. The pain. The whispers clawing at her mind. She focuses on them, their bonds - trust forged through fire and war. The fire surges higher, angry that she’s resisting. She feels it twist, coil, watch. Anchor yourself, she thinks. Anchor. Don’t let it take you. The weight presses harder, crushing the air from her lungs, but she holds to the dim flickers. Something cracks. Not outside - inside. A soundless scream. A rush of color. And then………nothing. Only the fire. Only the voices. Only the awareness that I am not alone inside this storm. <<set $Dantooine1HeavyDistortion to "unlocked">> [[A Shadow->Dantooine1AShadow]]

DANTOOINE: A Shadow <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> The fire around MEETRA folds inward, tightening into a single point of gravity. The storm begins to take shape. At first, she sees it as shadow - until she sees it move. It steps through the light - tall, deliberate, wearing plates of gold that glimmer like molten sun beneath black mist. The armor breathes with every movement, veins of crimson energy pulsing between its joints. The air bends to give him space. She can’t sense a presence in the Force. She can only sense pressure. He moves without sound. Each step lands like a thought she can’t stop thinking. Around him, the distortion obeys - currents of pain coiling toward his outstretched hand. The room starts to re-form in fragments. The Enclave. Her friends. But the walls…they bleed memory - flashes of war, bombardment, the screams of Dantooine’s first fall. He’s pulling it from the past of the planet. He’s making the soil bleed again. * SHADOW: “Ni’thrak…dar Veluthar’nash.” I exist as Veluthar, the bound flame. The language slices through MEETRA, the same hollow Sith language once heard in the echo of Nihilus - now with clarity, intelligence, choice. It tilts its head, the gold mask catching the light. The golden shadow bends down and comes close to MEETRA. When he speaks again, the words press in, crawling through her mind like smoke: * VELUTHAR: “Korr val’thaa… shi’ta karan Saarai’tor dosh - nax’ah tharuun.” Still your breath…the dread of the True Sith awakens - made flesh. She tries to stand, but her legs refuse. Her pulse thumps against the floor. The others - they’re still frozen, but their bodies twitch as if he’s reaching through the distortion and speaking to them like her. Their Force signatures twist and fluctuate. The shadow breathes against her ear. The sound of his armor hums with a low, predatory rhythm, like a heartbeat not his own. * VELUTHAR: “Tol kran’eth vosh… saari Jeedai… korr Rakata’nath… shaa’rath venosh.” All knowledge - softened by Jedi, poisoned by Rakata - shall be erased. Its voice reverberates inside her skull - every word a wound. She feels the old fear rising, the helplessness, the crush of his shadow. * VELUTHAR: “Tor’kresh ven’nash… daath mor’ith varuun.” Hold this instant close… destiny foretold now breathes. The distortion convulses, slamming through MEETRA’s chest like a seismic wave. The air smells of ash. The chamber flickers between present and memory - she sees the Jedi Council dying, over and over, their ghosts collapsing into the Shadow. It is made of everything Dantooine ever lost. Every grave. Every betrayal. Every silence. The True Sith have found us. <<set $Dantooine1AShadow to "unlocked">> <<set $activeCharacters = ["MEETRA", "T3-M4", "ATTON", "BAO-DUR", "MIRA", "JOLEE"]>> [[A New Hope->Dantooine1ANewHope]]

DANTOOINE: A New Hope <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> MEETRA reaches for the Force again - and it recoils. Not from him. From her. The fear takes her whole now. Every instinct screams retreat, every breath burns with dark memories. All she can think is that she was wrong - wrong to believe in peace, wrong to believe the galaxy could heal. This was what waited in the silence. The distortion tightens, wrapping the chamber in red and gold fire. LORD VELUTHAR stands over her now, his armor radiant with unholy light, one gauntlet raised like a conductor commanding the end of the world. * VELUTHAR: “Tash vel’kra… dosh’kar ith ven’nash. Thran shaa’vath tor’daar.” The path of your kind - false and broken. The wound shall finish your unmaking. VELUTHAR turns away, and his masked words hit like hammers against her chest. The pain turns to noise, and the noise turns to rage. Something inside her snaps. The fire in her veins ignites - now, it doesn’t belong to shadows. The Force, suddenly wild and defiant, surges back through her like a flood, shattering whatever wall had kept it at bay. She blinks, dazed, expecting to see some unseen ally - and finds none. The realization lands slowly, impossibly: the void inside her is fighting back. Her Wound in the Force, the same emptiness she once cursed, is absorbing the Shadow’s power. VELUTHAR notices. A low, guttural snarl rolls from behind the mask. His golden armor flares with molten light as he pulls against the unseen resistance. * VELUTHAR: “Korr dos veth!” He hisses in layered Sith tongue, the words scratching at the edge of reality. The energy in the room collapses back into silence. With a motion so fast it’s almost unseen, he ignites a red blade - heavy like sunlight seen through smoke. He steps forward and swings. The blow comes with a scream of displaced air. MEETRA dives aside, the blade missing her face by inches, leaving a molten gouge through the stone floor. VELUTHAR pivots, bringing the saber down again - <<if !$Dantooine1BaoDur>><<set _feat = $MeetraAlignment>><<if _feat >= 15>><<set $Dantooine1BaoDur = 'HighFeat'>><<run Save.autosave.save()>> - the pressure snaps into a release. Rising <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> MEETRA feels it instantly, the adrenaline of the moment fully igniting her senses. The echo anchoring VELUTHAR falters, its grip loosening like a clenched fist forced open. She doesn’t hesitate - she cuts herself free from the distortion, forcing her presence back into her body, back into the moment. Her lightsaber ignites as she steps into resolve. The blade meets his. And for the first time, their confrontation is physical. VELUTHAR’s strike lands heavier than she expects, raw strength rippling through the layered weight of the Echo. Sparks fly as their sabers lock, the impact driving her boots back across the fractured stone. Her arms burn, her breath tightens. But her block holds. VELUTHAR tilts his head slightly, curious. MEETRA grits her teeth and presses forward anyway. Each exchange costs her - strength bleeding away, the effort of fighting without the Force’s full harmony grinding against old wounds. She can feel herself slipping, feel the moment approaching when she won’t be able to keep him here. Behind her, she senses movement. The others, rising. Realizing what's real. Coming to her defense. VELUTHAR feels it too. He pauses. For the first time, he disengages by choice, stepping back as another pulse of distortion ripples outward, spreading like a curtain from him. He looks past MEETRA, to the others. * VELUTHAR (calmly): “Tash vek dosh taar vethis." Then, softer, amused. "Na’ven tash vaar sithos.” You cannot run from us. You will never be safe. The distortion folds in on itself. VELUTHAR is gone with it, somehow. The pressure vanishes with him, leaving only silence and the echo of his presence fading into nothing. MEETRA staggers. Someone catches her arm. There’s no time to speak. No time to reflect. The HEROES turn - They run. <<set $Dantooine1ANewHope to "unlockedLight">><<run Save.autosave.save()>> [[Escape->Dantooine1Run]] <<elseif _feat >= 5>><<set $Dantooine1BaoDur = 'AvgFeat'>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><div id="choiceBlock"> Clash. A brilliant blue light slashes across his line of attack. The impact rings like struck durasteel. BAO-DUR stands between them, both hands gripping his saber hilt, the blue blade shuddering against VELUTHAR's red. His expression is focused, jaw set. * BAO-DUR: “General.” he says through clenched teeth, “Move.” Fighting Back <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> MEETRA scrambles back, pulling herself to her feet as the duel unfolds. Sparks shower across the ruined chamber. For a heartbeat it looks as though BAO-DUR holds his ground - but the exchange is deceptive. VELUTHAR’s movements are measured, testing. Each swing precise, powerful, but restrained, as if he’s studying his opponent…dominance disguised as patience. At one point VELUTHAR’s golden mask flicks toward MEETRA, reading her in an unknown way. MEETRA feels the tension in the Force start to thin - the distortion losing coherence. From the corner of her eye she sees T3-M4, battered but active, darting between fallen debris, firing sharp bursts of electricity at the others. Each shock jolts a friend back into awareness: ATTON gasping, MIRA shouting, JOLEE bracing against the table. The world begins to stabilize. She turns back - BAO-DUR has shifted into a defensive stance, lightsaber raised low, tracking VELUTHAR’s new movements - retreating toward the far archway. VELUTHAR stops for a moment in the opening, drawn backward through a curtain of smoke that isn’t really there. His final words cut through the collapsing distortion. * SHADOW: “Tash vek dosh taar vethis. Na’ven tash vaar sithos.” You cannot run from us. You will never be safe. Then…he’s gone. Unreal silence follows. Every shift and movement is heard in the battered HEROES’ sensitive ears. Dust drifts through the golden light filtering from the broken roof. MEETRA stumbles toward the others, still half-numb. She helps MIRA up with one hand, her other still gripping her lightsaber so tightly her knuckles ache. * MEETRA: “C’mon,” she mutters, voice raw. “We’re done here.” No one argues. BAO-DUR guides JOLEE toward the exit as ATTON steadies the shaking droid. They run. <<set $Dantooine1ANewHope to "unlockedNeutral">><<run Save.autosave.save()>> [[Escape->Dantooine1Run]]</div> <<else>><<set $Dantooine1BaoDur = 'LowFeat'>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><div id="choiceBlock"> Clash. A brilliant blue light slashes across his line of attack. The impact rings like struck durasteel. BAO-DUR stands between them, both hands gripping his saber hilt, the blue blade shuddering against VELUTHAR's red. His expression is focused, jaw set. * BAO-DUR: “General.” he says through clenched teeth, “Move.” Fall <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> * MEETRA (turning): “BAO -!” VELUTHAR doesn’t look surprised. He pivots smoothly, impossibly fast, crimson blade reversing its arc in a motion too clean to be improvised. The strike lands through BAO-DUR’s guard, through armor, through flesh. The sound is wet. BAO-DUR gasps, air leaving a body that can no longer hold it. His blade flickers as his knees buckle to the ground. VELUTHAR twists the saber and pulls free. BAO-DUR collapses at MEETRA’s feet. Time fractures. MEETRA surges forward, the Force screaming back into alignment too late, too slow - her saber igniting as she moves, as rage and horror crash together in her chest... It's too late. VELUTHAR is already turning to her. The last thing MEETRA sees is the gold mask - featureless, radiant, unreadable - filling her vision. The crimson blade follows. It rushes toward her face - Darkness. [[The End->Devouring3Tsisaarai]]<</if>><</if>>

DANTOOINE: Escape <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> The plains blur past them, the air thick with the smell of burned stone and ozone. The EBON HAWK waits with engines remotely activated, ramp lowered. They make it aboard. MEETRA remembers the deck lights strobing across her vision, the roar of engines rising - and then everything goes black. The steady chug of engines comes back. Dim emergency lights wash the room in a pale blue. MEETRA stirs, eyes flickering open to the faint vibration under the medbay bed. Her chest aches, her limbs heavy, as if gravity didn’t remember to let go. ATTON stands over her, hooking her up to health sensors, checking vitals. The moment she moves, his focus snaps to her - all rough edges and restless energy. * ATTON: “Hey. Easy - you’re safe. You…you scared the hell out of us.” She blinks, taking in the room - the cracked bacta pack on the counter, the distant murmur of voices in the cockpit. Everything feels too still. * MEETRA (croaking): “How long?” * ATTON: “Just a few minutes. We’re about to break atmosphere. BAO-DUR says the way’s stable. MIRA’s…doing something. You’ve been out cold.” He tries to smile, fails halfway through. * ATTON (continuing): “You had us thinking we were going to have to, uh… drag you back from wherever Jedi go when they do that Force-coma thing.” She doesn’t answer. Her eyes stay fixed on the ceiling - not unfocused, just far away. ATTON’s voice softens, stripped of sarcasm. * ATTON: “Whatever that thing was…it’s gone. You’re here. You beat it.” * MEETRA (roughly): “No.” She pauses. “I survived. That’s not the same thing in war.” Her last word drops like a boulder in a canyon. He wants to say more but doesn’t. The silence between them is thicker than words. She sits up slowly, the ship’s faint rumble shaking through the bedframe. Her gaze drifts toward the screen showing the cockpit: Dantooine’s surface glowing in the distance, pale and ambivalent beneath the clouds. * MEETRA (low, resolute): “We’re never coming back here.” The finality in her tone leaves no room for argument. ATTON only nods. A low thrum builds through the hull, the unmistakable pull of the hyperdrive spinning up. Blue light washes the screen as the stars stretch into lines. The lurch in atmospheric pressure knocks out whatever strength had kept her upright. She exhales once, softly, eyes fluttering closed, and collapses back toward the bed, with ATTON breaking her impact. The ship lurches into hyperspace, and MEETRA SURIK falls back into the quiet dark. The EBON HAWK clears the atmosphere at full burn, engines screaming as hyperspace calculations snap into alignment. Stars stretch as the freighter folds into a dimensional tunnel thousands of times faster than the speed of light As the HAWK disappears, a massive silhouette slips into view from the planet’s far orbit, revealing itself now that its prey has left the area. A dark vessel, vast and angular, its jagged and asymmetrical obsidian hull swallowing starlight instead of reflecting it. Elongated forward prongs taper forward, predatory and deliberate, their edges etched with faint veins of ember-gold light that glow as if heat lives beneath the surface. The ship remains behind. Unhurried. Waiting. Watching. <<set $Dantooine1Escape to "unlocked">> <<run Save.autosave.save()>> [[Post-Dantooine->PostDantooine1]]

An outpost, so old and neglected that its name has been forgotten, blows in the wind of an unmarked world. Its walls, once carved by Jedi hands, lie half-buried beneath pale dust and drifting sand. The winds do not disturb them. Nothing does. The galaxy’s storms have grown silent, permitted, as though the very elements now move only with unseen approval. <img src="Act3/Devouring3Tsisaarai1.png" class="png"> Two ghostly figures linger where the training circle once stood. Their forms do not cast shadows, they have not for a thousand years. The ghost of ULIC QEL-DROMA watches the horizon, his outline flickering faintly in the dim light. * ULIC: “Even with all they had…they still lost.” Beside him, the ghost of VIMA SUNRIDER’s radiance softens, dimmed by sorrow rather than by fading. She does not look at him. She looks upward - at a sky that obeys someone else’s will. * VIMA: “No. They were unmade.” The galaxy hums with something alien, something enormous. Not Dark Side. Not Light. Something claimed. The very weave of the Force hangs still, like fabric soaked through - its colors muted, its song rewritten. <img src="Act3/Devouring3Tsisaarai2.png" class="png"> Above them, faint silhouettes drift across the clouds: colossal T’Sisaarai world-carriers threading between star lanes like migrating titans. They expand, purposefully, patiently, without resistance. * ULIC: “Their Wound lives. And there’s nothing left to stop it.” * VIMA: “No Jedi remain. No saviors. Only time. And empire.” Fragments of memory echo between them - REVAN’s fire, MEETRA’s resolve, BASTILA’s clarity. All the noise, all the pain, all the hope of living beings who tried to bend destiny back toward the Light. Extinguished now. Unreachable. ULIC’s form trembles with a grief so old it barely has shape. * ULIC: “Even now… I mourn them.” VIMA’s expression changes, settling on something quieter than despair. * VIMA (softly): “There was a chance. But no one saw the true cost. Not until it was too late.” A low resonance rolls across the plains, rippling through stone and dust. In the far distance, a planet dims - its atmosphere folding into the golden glow rising from the surface. No screams, no explosions…just submission wearing the mask of peace. The shadow of the T’Sisaarai sweeps outward across starfields. Steady. Inevitable. Total. * ULIC: “Will the galaxy resist?” She closes her eyes, listening to the Force - or what remains of it, in this galaxy. * VIMA: “There is nothing left to resist with. The Force has gone still. It has submitted.” For a long moment, ULIC’s ghost flickers in place, as though even memory itself must bow to new laws. He whispers, not in fear, but in mourning: * ULIC: “Then this… is how it ends?” VIMA opens her eyes. And there, in the reflection of her pale form, the stars continue their slow, quiet extinction. * VIMA (final): “No. Darkness cannot exist without the light. A new hope will arise, someday. There will be a new beginning...maybe. Someday.” They turn away, as another world darkens in the distance, its last voice drowned beneath the steady, heavy harmony of the T’Sisaarai anthem. The galaxy remains still, enduring, breathing in shallow rhythms.

Post-DANTOOINE <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> The ship’s lighting is dimmed to a murky blue signifying reserved power. The EBON HAWK groans as it pushes through hyperspace, its hull still shivering from the jump. Panels flicker, coolant hisses in the corridor, and the faint metallic smell of fried wiring clings to the air. BAO-DUR moves through the ship as a Zabrack walking through the wreckage of a battlefield - steady, controlled, refusing to let his mind catch up to the chaos. His mechanical arm clicks as he calibrates a trembling sensor screen, the readouts meaningless noise. Whatever the distortion did on Dantooine, it went beyond jamming his instruments. It scarred the data sensors, like a virus that remembers fear. The distortion still feels imprinted on his skin - that pressure, that suffocating dark crushed the life from Dantooine’s ruins. It was so much more than what he had experienced before on Ossus. He felt his mind drowning in it until something broke loose: the faintest spark of warmth through the haze, the General’s voice somewhere in the dark, steady and defiant. Her will had cracked the shadow open, and in that moment he’d seen his path again. Protect her. That was enough. He catches his reflection in a screen’s reflection - jaw tight, eyes wide. He looks like he’d just come back from the war…maybe he had. <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> MEETRA lies unconscious in the med bay, pale under the dim lights. ATTON sits beside her, murmuring words that sound almost like prayers. BAO-DUR lingers in the doorway, silent. He’s seen her survive worse, but never look fragile. MIRA hovers near the foot of the bed, arms folded. * MIRA (voice low): “Whatever that was, it wasn’t Sith. Sith I can stab. This -” gesturing vaguely at air, “- felt like dying in slow motion.” BAO-DUR doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust his voice. He adjusts a med sensor instead, eyes fixed on the readout. Her pulse is coming down from erratic beats, back to strong. She’s fighting her way back. * ATTON (glancing up at BAO-DUR): “You were the first one to move. How?” * BAO-DUR (hesitating): “Didn’t think about it, just…saw her on the ground. Didn’t want that to be the last thing I saw.” MIRA stares for a long second, then looks away. * MIRA: “Well. Glad your instincts are better than mine.” The holotable stutters to life, flooding the main hold with a new shaky blue light, bleeding into the med bay. T3 is plugged into the console, data crawling across the space in erratic bursts - energy waves, gravity flux readings, nonsense. BAO-DUR leans out of the med bay door to look at it, walking over to study the projection, methodically isolating the usable fragments. He needs something concrete. Something to fix. * JOLEE (walking to the holotable, rubbing his temples): “If you’re looking for meaning in that static, I think the Force scrambled its eggs before it got to you.” * BAO-DUR: “Maybe…but distortions leave residue. You can’t erase the Force from matter entirely - just twist it. In that way it’s like data.” BAO-DUR isolates a pattern: spikes in local distortion aligned with the moment the shadow’s voice had broken through. Like Dantooine itself had echoed him back. The readings pulsed like a heartbeat, then flattened. He exhales through his nose. * BAO-DUR: “It’s like he was using the planet’s resources. Pulling power from the ground of the Enclave.” * JOLEE (grimacing): “Then the old ghosts have found new lungs to scream with.” <<set $Dantooine1Post to "unlocked">><<set $activeCharacters = ["MEETRA", "T3-M4", "ATTON", "BAO-DUR", "MIRA", "JOLEE"]>><<run Save.autosave.save()>> [[Friends of the Jedi->FriendsOfTheJedi]]

Friends of the Jedi <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> In the med bay, MEETRA’s eyes flutter open - pupils dilated, face pale with exhaustion. She tries to speak, but only air escapes. ATTON tries to reassure her as she comes to, forcing calm through clenched teeth. * ATTON (softly, almost a whisper): “Hey…hey, easy. You’re safe - we’re out.” He pauses, swallowing hard. “You scared the hell out of us.” MEETRA coughs, her head in a soupy state, recalling the last conscious moments she had. Her hand reaches her forehead, clearing out the fuzziness, rubbing her eyes. She opens them, her grey eyes regaining focus. As the tone in her iris changes, it sharpens and flashes as she finds strength again. She pats ATTON’s hand nearby her own, a wordless thank you. With shaky joints but certain intention, MEETRA shuffles off the bed, and makes her way to the voices outside the room. ATTON follows close behind her, ready to catch her if she stumbles. She makes it to the holotable, using it as a balancing support, working to familiarize what BAO-DUR is parsing through. Her face looks older, somehow. BAO-DUR, JOLEE and T3-M4 move to greet her with extended cautious hands; MEETRA holds a firm hand up. * MEETRA (level): "We've just been attacked by the True Sith. Ask me how I'm doing later. Tell me what's happening now." Even with her admission of what their enemy is, her direct and cutting rebuke stops them. BAO-DUR stops, reasserts himself with his hands behind his back, and delivers his status report to his General. * BAO-DUR (voice gentle): “The SOJOURN’s moving to meet us. ADMIRAL ONASI’s fleet is coming up the Hydian Way. But they’re too far south to reach us before that thing will probably find us again.” MEETRA, battered and feeling weak, pulls her head to her shoulder, relieving the painful tension in her neck, allowing her a moment to process. Her eyes half close as she searches through the Force, trying to pick up what else is happening in the galaxy. She can’t sense any distortions, but the burn of the ordeal still hangs onto her spirit. She chooses to search with her feelings, somewhere she knows is protected and will receive the few Jedi of the galaxy without question…. * MEETRA (eyes lifting again): “Then we don’t wait.” She locks onto ATTON, the ship’s pilot. “We go somewhere that knows what we’re facing.” * ATTON (frowning): “You mean-?” * MEETRA: “Telos. They’ve fought this kind of darkness before. Citadel Station’s militia won’t hesitate to defend the Jedi again.” T3 emanates a low whirl, sharing his concern. * BAO-DUR (nodding): “Lieutenant Grenn still runs the local security command. The Ithorians finished the last restoration phase during our previous visit. The surface is stable, shield grid online. If anyone can hold a line until the fleet arrives, it’s them.” * MIRA (leaning against a chair): “Telos it is. Not my idea of a vacation spot, but I’ll take an army that remembers how to fight.” * JOLEE (chuckled softly, shaking his head): “And here I thought retirement was supposed to be quiet.” After a few minutes, the holotable now shows their new course, the glowing line stretching from Dantooine to Telos IV. BAO-DUR watches the trajectory settle into alignment, the ship’s hum evening out as ATTON locks in coordinates in the cockpit. He lets himself finally breathe. The plan is simple. Logical. That helps in situations like this. Logic always does. Still…his mechanical hand flexes unconsciously. Somewhere inside, the memory of that shadow still presses on him, whispering behind the rationality. He doesn’t believe in nightmares - only cause and effect. But as the EBON HAWK flies deeper into hyperspace, BAO-DUR knows an old fear has finally come true for the galaxy: something vast and unseen has crossed the line between myth and war, and he was there the moment it arrived. <<set $FriendsOfTheJedi to "unlocked">> [[Run To Telos->RunToTelos]]

RUN TO TELOS IV <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> * [[Check in with the HEROES->Telos1Heroes]] * [[Arrive at Telos->Telos1Preparation]] <<set $FriendsOfTheJedi to "unlocked">> [[Review Galactic History->Datapad]]

REVAN For more than a decade, the galaxy has spoken his name only in the past tense. He is spoken as a resolution, a warning, a symbol sealed neatly away by history. To the Republic, he is the hero who vanished once his purpose was fulfilled. To the remaining Jedi, he is the conflicted legend that disappeared without explanation. To the Sith remnants, he is a shadow they refuse to name aloud. Stories contradict each other, blur into rumor…penitent exile, secret martyr, fallen god, ghost. No one agrees or knows what became of him. Everyone agrees he is gone. And yet - beyond the edge of every charted lane, past regions where hyperspace grows unreliable and the Force thins into something cautious and old…a lone vessel drifts without escort or transponder. Its hull is asymmetrical, assembled in a deliberately organic way, its surface marked by age that cannot be measured in years. Veins of dim light pulse beneath its plating like a slow heartbeat, responding subtly to unseen currents. It cuts through space, somehow listening to it. Inside the ship the air is quiet. The ship hums softly, precise and restrained, its systems reacting less to command inputs than to presence…his presence. <img src="Act1/Revan1Viewport.png" class="png"> REVAN stands at the forward viewport, behind the pilot’s chair. He is still tall, though the years have refined him into something leaner, harder. His stance is composed, weight balanced evenly, hands folded behind his back in habitual readiness. His hair has grown longer, pulled back loosely, streaked faintly with gray that catches the low cockpit light. The lines at the edges of his eyes are deeper now from his long vigilance in the unknown. He wears no insignias of his past lives, only dark, travel-worn robes layered for function rather than ceremony, fabric reinforced where habit expects strain. He holds his stance, without fidgeting or movement. He does not meditate in the traditional sense. He simply listens to the Force, the galaxy, the space between spaces. The galaxy stretches beyond the transparisteel in cold layers - pinprick suns, warped shadows, distant nebulae smeared like old scars across the void. To anyone else, it would be empty. To REVAN, it is crowded with implications. Fifteen years in the Unknown Regions have taught him that silence is usually another word for anticipation. The Force here is thin, stretched, reluctant to move. It suits him; he has learned how to exist where the Force does not welcome attention. He has learned how to make himself smaller without becoming weak. The Phantom, his ship, responds to that discipline, its systems humming in quiet alignment with his calm. All these years, he has not been watching the galaxy from afar. He did not lose himself in his memories, or be recaptured by the galaxy’s enemy, or fail to rise to the Sith. He has been standing between the galaxy…and something worse. <<set $Revan1 to "unlocked">> <<set $activeCharacters = ["REVAN"]>> [[A Disturbance in the Force->Revan1Disturbance]]

REVAN's Journauls Disapperance <<link "3955 BBY: Veiled Mask">><<replace "#VeiledMask">>3955 BBY: Veiled The war ended loudly. Celebrations, proclamations, hands clasping my own as if I were an anchor they could tie the future to. The Star Forge fell. Malak died. The Republic inhaled for the first time in decades and mistook the breath for peace. They want me visible. Smiling. Steady. A shape they could point to and say this is over now. So I give them that shape. I speak when asked. I listen when it matters. I let senators believe I have answers, let soldiers believe the war resolved itself into something manageable. I let the Jedi look at me with that careful mixture of relief and fear - as if I am both solution and reminder of how close they came to extinction. None of it is a lie. But it’s an incomplete truth. Every time a thanks is given, I feel the echo of another that wasn't saved. Every victory speech rings hollow against memories that don’t belong to this war alone - memories older, deeper, unfinished. I can feel it even in the quiet moments…an unknown pressure beyond the rim, a gravity well with no star. The darkness withdrew when Malak fell. It should have retreated. That difference matters. At night - when there were no eyes on me, no expectations to fulfill - I feel it patiently pulling. As if something ancient marked me the first time I crossed into the Unknown Regions, and never truly let go. The hero they see is real, I don’t resent that role. People need symbols when rebuilding from ash. But the other part of me - the one that remembers what I found beyond the edge of the map - knows the truth I cannot yet speak aloud. I smile because it steadies them. I remain because it buys time. I prepare because someone has to look where no one else will. If history remembers me only as the man who saved the Republic, so be it. But I will not let the galaxy die because I chose comfort over vigilance. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3955 BBY: Departure">><<replace "#Departure">>3955 BBY: Departure I didn’t tell BASTILA everything. Not because I do not trust her - I do. But if I let her see the full shape of what I remember, she would follow me. And this path is not one I will allow anyone else to walk. The Council believes I seek penance. Reflection. A quiet atonement in the Unknown Regions. They are relieved by that framing. It lets them place my absence into a narrative they understand: the fallen hero seeking balance. Closure. An ending. I told BASTILA the truth that hurt her the least. That I felt unfinished. That the Force has not grown calm since Malak’s death. That there are echoes I cannot ignore. She listened the way she always does - eyes steady, heart too perceptive to be fooled entirely. She knew I am leaving something unsaid. She asked if I will return. I told her I intend to. And that is the most dangerous promise I make. When I look at her, I feel the weight of everything I am choosing not to be: a man who stays, a man who rebuilds, a man who lets the galaxy carry its own burdens for once. For a moment…I consider surrendering to that future. And as I do, the memories return. The certainty overlaps my honorable consideration. Something is waiting beyond the edge of the map. It watched the Mandalorians. It guided Malak, and myself in my past life. It tolerated the Star Forge because it served a larger design. The silence after the war is not peace - it is containment. Pressure held. I left before my doubt could turn into weakness. The EBON HAWK rose into the air, T3-M4 by my side without a sound. The stars stretched ahead, familiar for only a moment before becoming unknown again. I do not feel like I am abandoning the galaxy. I feel like I am stepping between it, and something worse. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3955 BBY: The Mask">><<replace "#TheMask">>3955 BBY: The Mask CANDEROUS the Mandalorian didn’t ask why the mask matters. That is why I trust him with this task. This new future. We followed the trail together - battlefields, half-remembered Mandalorian shrines, the bones of a culture that refuses to stay dead. The lost mask is identity, continuity, a symbol powerful enough to reassemble a people who only understand unity through war. When we found it, I felt something settle into alignment in the Force. An important piece returning to where it belongs. CANDEROUS held the Mask of MANDALORE, with reverence he would never name as such. I watched the weight of it change him, focus him. Purpose does that. Yet with the Mask found, I found that our paths diverged. In the same sarcophagus my past self hid MANDALORE’s mask, lay a Sith holocron; that was the first real and true clue for the memories that continued to haunt me. It speaks clean in its implication, star charts that do not match Republic space. References to empires that seemed to have withdraw, instead of fall. Patterns I recognize because I have followed them before…on the old side of my memory. I give CANDEROUS the truth for his people: the Mandalorians will need him more than they will ever need me. They need a leader who understands them, not a ghost wearing borrowed authority. He understands immediately. With a warrior’s nod, we both agree; the knowledge that we are both walking back into war again - different wars, but bound by the same inevitability. It sets his soul on fire again, reignited in his warrior’s cry. It further isolates me more than I realized at that point. He leaves to reunite his people. I turn away from known space, accepting the role of the unknown seeker of truth. The last time I followed this trail, I did not know what I was becoming. This time, I do. If the Mandalorians rise again, they will be ready. If I fail - they may be a necessary force that stands between the galaxy and what waits in the dark. I set my course deeper into the Unknown Regions. The stars thin. The Force grows quiet. And I imagine that somewhere ahead, something ancient remembers my name. <</replace>><</link>> Hiding Traces <<link "3954 BBY: Deepening Silence">><<replace "#DeepeningSilence">>3954 BBY: Deepening Silence The farther I travel, the less the galaxy resembles itself. Hyperlanes dissolve into suggestion. Stars thin. The Force sits almost in status in these areas, failing to flow as I expect My memories do not return cleanly here; they fracture, overlap, contradict. But the fragments agree on one thing: Rakata Prime was never the end of the trail. It was a marker, a light on the frontier. A warning, placed where lesser minds would stop digging. And it seems like something beyond it learned from the Infinite Empire’s failure. I begin to change the way I move through space - bypassing fixed routes, avoiding known jumps. I mask my presence in the Force, cloaking in shadow, folding my awareness inward, letting gravity and radiation hide what the Force once announced. I barter instead of trade. Salvage instead of dock. I become a rumor even to myself. Some would see this as paranoia - they’re wrong. Preparation takes all forms. Whatever shaped the Sith I’m hunting doesn’t hunt recklessly. It watches in secret, waiting for patterns. So I deny it that. I become absence. If it searches for me now, it will find only static and dead ends. The Dark Side presses harder here, promising efficiency. It offers shortcuts. Control. Certainty. I refuse it not because it is evil, but because it is loud. And I cannot afford to be heard this deep into the unknown. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3954 BBY: The Phantom">><<replace "#ThePhantom">>3954 BBY: The Phantom I found a ship drifting, where no chart claims space exists. At first I think it debris - another relic torn loose by time and neglect. But the hull geometry seemed woven with the Force. Asymmetrical, almost grown rather than built. The handiwork is something I didn’t recognize. When I boarded it, the Force reacted to me before the systems did. It was alarming, but enraptured my curiosity I quickly learned that the ship didn’t navigate by stars…but will, somehow using the channels of the Force as navigation and sensors. It had been abandoned for too long; its systems were half-dead, half-dormant, keyed to Force currents long abandoned by modern hyperspace theory. Where a navicomputer calculates, this vessel listens. It feels paths through mass shadows and anomalies the way a predator feels pressure in water. It terrified me. I had no idea how this truly existed. Which is why I claimed it. I spent weeks, months - repairing what could be repaired, learning its systems and design. The ship responded best when I centered myself. When I let go of destination, and focus instead on intent. It moved best when I was calm, invisible even to my own senses. By the time I had harnessed it enough to be flown, I gathered by the age of technology I found that it must have been built before the Hundred Year Darkness, thousands of years ago. The only way it was still even salvageable is because of its creator infusing a hybrid of Force and technology to it, somehow learning how to move through the Force without announcing themselves. I couldn’t find a name of the ship. the logs are erased or never existed. A ghost vessel, guided by echoes and instinct. Almost as a PHANTOM…appropriate. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3954 BBY: Contingency">><<replace "#Contingency">>3954 BBY: Contingency More than a year into my search, I accept a difficult truth I have avoided since I left known space: I may not return. Not because I expect to fail - but because the path before me doesn’t lead back the same way. If I succeed in some meaningful way, the galaxy may never know my name again. If I fali…someone will need to finish what I started. A general does not plan for victory alone. I sentimentally prepared the EBON HAWK, one last time. I lock the navicomputer to T3-M4’s control, adding anything that might tie to my present or projected course. I send T3-M4 with the ship, as a protector of my legacy and the war to come. He carries records I cannot trust myself to preserve: fragments of the Mandalorian Wars, the Star Forge, the Rakata, the Unknown Regions as I remember them - and the parts I fear I do not. T3 has always seen what others overlook. He will protect the truth until someone worthy asks the right questions. I left no explanations, only warnings, trails, fragments. Data I know the right person will see, where others would not. If the storm I sense breaks after I am gone, a capsule of what I know will survive me I watched the EBON HAWK vanish into hyperspace. And then turned back, truly alone without my trusted droid, into resolve. If the galaxy must be saved again, let it not hinge on a single name. Let it hinge on the depth of preparation its protectors made. I turn back toward the Unknown Regions - toward the place where my memory ends and truth begins. Whatever waits for me out there already knows I am coming, and that’s acceptable…I have been preparing to be alone for a while now. <</replace>><</link>> Fringes <<link "3953 BBY: Alien">><<replace "#Alien">>3953 BBY: Alien Time behaves strangely here. Days lose edges. Months compress into instinct. I’m commited fully now - no detours, no half-measures. The certainty has settled into me like bone: the Sith Empire exists, intact or evolving, somewhere beyond the reach of Republic charts. The Force pulls toward this fact, in a subtle but consistent direction, like a tide beneath thought. I keep to remaining unseen. I suppress my presence in the Force to a knife’s edge. I alter vector profiles, bleed heat into debris fields, let stellar noise bury my passage. If something watches these regions, it will not see a pattern in me. I encountered an alien presence, uncatalogued or suggested by known history. They move through space as if it were an inconvenience rather than a necessity. They hunt silently and efficiently. They have advanced somehow that their vessels seem to be organic…grown, scarred, ritualized. I haven’t identified any technology in their vessels or equipment. At one point I wondered if my new ship came from them somehow, but then realized their unique differences implied they don’t touch the Force the way others do…or perhaps they refuse it. I observe them from concealment for weeks. They are a deadly group…disciplined. Entirely alien. But they are not what I am searching for. There is no reverence for Sith symbology. No echoes of the philosophies I recognize. Whatever war they fight, it is not the one waiting for the galaxy. I record everything. I leave no trace. They eventually pass through. This region is crowded with predators, but the Sith are not among them. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3953 BBY: Hallucinations">><<replace "#Hallucinations">>3953 BBY: Hallucinations The trail bends inward, back toward known space. I hesitated before following it, that alone told me it matters. The temptation to reconnect with my companions, with BASTILA, to share what I’ve found is undeniably strong…but the choice to resign my name and presence to legend is more consequential than satisfying the emptiness inside of me. I eventually emerged into Sith space, finding an uncharted world that should not exist: Medriaas. Somehow, it has no life…no decay, no echo of suffering where suffering should be deafening. The Force, mysteriously, feels that it’s been been removed from the entire planet. Stripped down to absence. At the planet’s heart, I found a sarcophagus with a name carved into it - Dramath. Within lay an ancient holocron. When I opened it, it suddenly and unexpectedly imposed on me. The effect was familiar; Rakatan…a prison disguised as instruction. I had experienced this before. The visions began immediately. Malak victorious - worlds burning in sequence, the Republic folding into ash. BASTILA dying again and again - each vision different, each worse. Malachor destroyed, reformed, destroyed again…endlessly. I endured it, believing this was a trial. I let the Dark Side wash over me, resisting instead of accepting, assuming endurance will unlock meaning. The Sith always hide truth behind pain, and I have survived worse. Time stopped, or perhaps I did. The trials seemed to never end, but I finally broke free. I tore myself out of the holocron’s delusion by force of will alone, shattering the illusion with raw denial of its authority. And then…I collapsed. Weeks had passed while I had fought the hallucinations. My body lay motionless while my mind burned. I was barely alive when consciousness had returned - muscle atrophy, organs strain, breath shallow. I dragged myself away from the tomb and spent more than a month recovering, cursing my own arrogance with every breath. The holocron gave me nothing I sought. But the absence of answers confirmed the Sith who built this did not fear invasion - they feared a return of something. Whatever waits beyond the Unknown Regions is old enough, and patient enough, to let fools like me wound themselves before the real war even begins. I recovered, I learned. And I will not make the same mistake again. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3953 BBY: Hyperlane Ashes">><<replace "#HyperlaneAshes">>3953 BBY: Hyperlane Ashes The stations I find scattered across the Unknown Regions are older than Republic history, and quieter than death. Rakatan construction, recognizable through intent. Power conduits grown into stone. Navigation pylons keyed to Force vectors. From fragments, I reconstruct a route referenced repeatedly in their archives: The Seat Of Masters. It’s written in a way that suggests convergence of paths. Traveling these routes is costly. The lanes here are better described as fractured corridors where gravity wells drift and overlap. Calculations fail because the space itself is unstable, unreliable. A jump that should take minutes can stretch into hours of uncontrolled translation, or collapse entirely mid-transit. More than once, I survive only by refusing precision. When a lane destabilizes, I choose to stop trying to hold course. Instead, I allow the ship to ride the distortion - loosening safeties, venting power, letting hyperspace shear carry me sideways through turbulence, rather than tearing the hull apart. The Force becomes a brace, not a guide; I use it to feel pressure changes before sensors register them. I’m not sure if this reckless behavior is inherent to the Phantom’s unique form or its receptive design in the Force, but it works and has delivered me out of dozens of near-failures. I begin to understand something the Rakata never documented outright: hyperspace is not static. It can flex under mass, emotion, Force concentration. When it destabilizes, it’s more correct to see it as a shift. These moments - brief, violent, unpredictable - feel more accurate to treat as fluxes in cosmic waves. Each attempt costs time. Weeks vanish in preparation, recalibration, recovery. I ration fuel, rest, and even consciousness. To reach nothing, system after system erased or collapsing as I approach…is infuriating beyond words I could write. And I’m starting to think - maybe that’s the point. Each attempt a consistent failure. Each collapse happens after I commit. Each path closes behind me. Denial. The path closes as I walk it. That has to mean it is real - and the Sith erase it behind me. The frustration by now should break me, but it clarifies something vital: whatever waits at the end of these routes understands hyperspace far better than the Republic ever has. It’s willing to scar it permanently to remain hidden. That level of intervention betrays fear. I log every instability. Every forced flux. Every moment where space bends instead of breaking. For now, I press on, for the enemy is not merely hiding now. It is somehow reshaping the road to make sure no one follows. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3953 BBY: Scouting">><<replace "#Scouting">>3953 BBY: Scouting With the information and trail I’ve uncovered, I made a decision to reach back into the past and awaken a name the galaxy prefers to forget. Pulling from old memories and new connections, I reach out to the collective following that answers to the name of the Revanchists. They return, now as my surveyors, pathfinders, ghosts moving where Republic probes cannot. I seed them through unknown space, each cell independent, each believing they are mapping dead lanes and forgotten systems. Some report back their findings. Some vanish. I find ways to honor their courage, in word and future plans. I record their last transmissions. I promise vengeance for those who never return. And yet, when I review the data, there is no remnant of their memory or sacrifice. It’s not hard to accept that I am using them for the greater cause. Each loss tightens the net. Each disappearance confirms a boundary. The enemy reacts to patterns, and I am teaching myself where those patterns break. NARESHA, someone that had followed me before my fall, has consistently proven indispensable. Her discipline is absolute. She filters noise from signals with surgical precision, feeding me fragments that align with my own discoveries. She never asks for explanation. She understands that survival here requires obedience to a purpose larger than comfort. I tell myself this is necessary, the cost will be justified. A general always counts lives, and numbers cannot become abstractions. But I feel that line thinning. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3953 BBY: Empire">><<replace "#Empire">>3953 BBY: Empire The word appears everywhere, now that I’m willing to name it. It’s adjacent to the Ratakan’s Infinite Empire. Older than Sith schisms. Older than the dogma that fractured them. In monument fragments, in pre-Exilic Sith inscriptions, in records deliberately broken rather than erased, the same designation surfaces again and again: T’Sisaarai. The word for “True Sith” in the Sith language. An empire that did not rise after the Rakata - but endured alongside them. One that had to have learned from their excesses. One that watched as the Infinite Empire burned itself out, cataloging failure rather than sharing it. These implications I’ve discovered unsettle me. The Rakata lost their dominion twenty-five thousand years ago. If these records speak truth - and too many independent sources agree to dismiss - then the T’Sisaarai predate the collapse of the Infinite Empire. The Sith I know - the wars, the betrayals, the empires that rose and fell - were not evolutions. They’re experiments. Proxies. Controlled expressions of ideology, falling apart after their usefulness ends. The Sith are not a reborn threat…they’re a patient one. It makes me question my own downfall, and how much of it was truly my choice. It steels my efforts to remain in balance as I search the unknown for this truly ancient evil. This discovery alters my perspective, helping me understand why the Force resists clarity in these regions. Why history folds in on itself. Why even the Rakata - masters of enslavement and annihilation - feared what lay beyond their grasp. If this Empire truly stretches back that far, then I don’t believe I’m hunting remnants. I may be trespassing into something primordial - a civilization old enough to mistake waiting for wisdom. For the first time since I left known space, I consider a thought that refuses to leave me: Perhaps the galaxy has never truly been free. Perhaps it has simply gone unobserved…until now. <</replace>><</link>> Staying Hidden <<link "3952 BBY: Rings of Ash">><<replace "#RingsOfAsh">>3952 BBY: Rings of Ash I discovered a ring of systems that hold no life anymore. They’ve been emptied…somehow. Worlds reduced to sterile silence. Orbits intact, stars stable, yet nothing lives. The pattern repeats across light-years, forming a perimeter too deliberate to dismiss as coincidence. Ancient wars passed through here, but only absence remains. What remains seems to be the staging grounds of the T’Sisaarai Empire - logistical shadows that erased history. I search for proof and find only the same results I saw on Medriaas: worlds that feel removed, not destroyed. There is no gauge to understand how long these worlds have been decimated like this, but it is easy to assume thousands and thousands of years. Nothing truly confirms it…nothing denies it either. My desperation sharpens interpretation, I know this. I also know that an enemy capable of concealment on this scale would leave exactly this kind of nothing behind. I record each system as evidence - not because the data demands it, but because my conviction does. Hubris whispers that I am alone because only I am willing to see. But truthfully, doubt is a luxury for those not standing at the edge of annihilation. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3951–3950 BBY: Echoes and Hope">><<replace "#EchoesAndHope">>3951–3950 BBY: Echoes and Hope I felt the galaxy burn again…so did the PHANTOM’s instruments. A violent and obscene attack, somewhere in Known Space. My Revanchists shared that the Miraluken world Katarr somehow died…matching the descriptions of the systems I discovered months ago. I heavily contemplated returning to known space again, defending the places in the galaxy I consider home. When new updates came to me, I became thankful for my hesitation. Whispers of a Sith Triumvirate rising from the attack reached me, announcing itself in spectacle and terror. They came with no demands, and simply moved in shadow, their pain and hunger destroying anything that came close. Though a true threat, their movements felt separate from what I had uncovered in the unknown, and didn’t feel like the T’Sisaarai. I directed my followers to hunt deeper, find the truth. When some responded with the truth, I found a new pit of sorrow and guilt in my chest. Arren Kae, my original Jedi master, had fallen to the Dark Side, rising as a new Sith Lord with others, Nihilus and Sion. They operate differently than my past self, seemingly striking through shadow. My followers believe nearly all of the Jedi were killed in the attack on Kataar. Though deep in the Unknown Regions, I immediately made preparations and movements to return to the known galaxy. With the Jedi gone, the Republic, the galaxy doesn’t have a true hope against the Sith, regardless of my pursuit of the T’Sisaarai. But then, as I began to make my way back…NARESHA told me to wait. MEETRA SURIK, a general from the Mandalorian Wars in my command, had reappeared in the galaxy. She had survived an attack by Sion, and travelled on the EBON HAWK. The dark weight in my chest became lighter with the understanding that all may not be lost. Not only were there strong Jedi still in the galaxy, but T3 had discovered someone that he saw as worthy of continuing the work I had left behind. I didn’t dare allow myself hope, but a confidence in others, in MEETRA, I did allow to take root in me. I chose to continue my isolated search of the T’Sisaari, trusting in the Force, in MEETRA, in T3. The dark threat she faces in the Known is only a taste of the evil devastation and domination I’m uncovering in the Unknown, and it seems that only I can uncover the true source of this threat. When word finally reaches me that the Triumvirate has fallen, I am not surprised, given what I had read about MEETRA, and the few memories I have of her. She had always been reserved and quiet, choosing peace and exile after the Mandalorian Wars, but she was always stronger than the Force tried to make her. Where they devoured, she endured without becoming hollow. Where they fought, she defended and drove back. Where Arren (Traya) manipulated with her words, she acted against it. And the Force chose correctly. For all the threat the Sith are, known and unknown…the galaxy survived without me this time. That knowledge steels me for what lies ahead. <</replace>><</link>> Cold Trail <<link "3949–3947 BBY: Old Ruins">><<replace "#OldRuins">>3949–3947 BBY: Old Ruins The trail goes cold, decisively. As if something noticed the Triumvirate’s fall, and closed its hand. With the Republic spared collapse, whatever I hunted withdraws deeper, leaving me with only echoes, and the bones of older lies. I return to places I have already walked. Ruins I dismissed too quickly. Systems I charted once and abandoned. Now I look sideways for hints of manipulation. What I find is familiar in shape if not in name: cultures broken without invasion, empires hollowed rather than destroyed. Stone cities aligned to stars that no longer shine. Iconography of crowns and serpents, storms and suns - civilizations resembling what the galaxy once called gods. All of them, unmade. Nothing new. No living thread. No direction. Only confirmation that something ancient moved here once and left nothing it could not erase. I circle the same data until it blurs, tell myself patience is discipline rather than stagnation. Doubt begins to sound like reason. I repeat that often now, a warning to myself. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3946 BBY: Forgotten Throne">><<replace "#ForgottenThrone">>3946 BBY: Forgotten Throne My newest discovery is broken through the translation of language, the most tedious of presentation. In ruins I nearly leave abandoned - etched so deeply into stone that erosion spared them - I finally see the pattern. Ancient Sith runes, older than the schisms, older than dogma. A single word recurs across fragments that should not agree. Kaas. Thought it repeats, every source contradicts the last: A drowned world, a storm-world, a throne forgotten by time. Yet, the name resurfaces relentlessly - on pillars cracked by ages, in sarcophagi reduced to dust, in navigational glyphs that point nowhere. The Sith who carved it treated the word with reverence and fear in equal measure, giving it a central pull in their language. I cannot let it go. The despair of the previous years fractures under the weight of that single word. If Kaas exists - if anything of this word ever existed - then my search is provably not aimless. The T’Sisaarai I have been chasing has a gravity well, a point of convergence that survived every attempt at erasure. I begin again with renewed obsession. Every ruin reexamined. Every half-translation reconsidered. Every false lead reweighted. I stop asking whether the trail is real, and now ask why it was buried so deeply. Kaas does not want to be found. Which means it matters. And if the galaxy has forgotten it over eons, then I will remember on its behalf, no matter what it costs me to keep the name alive. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3946 BBY: Close">><<replace "#Close">>3946 BBY: Close Through my re-examination of my notes, I triangulate Kaas from three separate T’Sisaarai ruins. The math is imperfect, the margins obscene - but the overlap is undeniable. I set my course, and trust in the Force. Hyperspace answers with violence. Storms tear through the lane without warning, scattering vectors and shredding guidance. Hyperspace fluxing does nothing to give me control back. My Phantom ship tumbles blind, systems failing one by one. I lose time. Orientation. Certainty. I am thrown into the void and do not know where I will stop, or if I will drift endlessly. Weeks pass. Starvation and hallucinations return. I write to keep track of myself. I had to be right. I had to have gotten too close. And that’s why the path vanishes before me, again. They know I’m close. The Force no longer answers questions - it reflects obsession back at me until there is nothing else. When the ship finally stabilizes, I am nowhere near Kaas. I’m not even in the Unknown Regions. I emerge near Rattataki, on the southwestern edge of the Mid Rim - alive by chance alone. My sanity is frayed and incensed. My body barely obeys. But one truth remains untouched: I was close enough that the T’Sisaarai noticed, and actively stopped me. And if they can scatter me across the galaxy to stop my approach - then Kaas is real, the T’Sisaarai endure, and my decade in the dark was not wasted. I recover, refit, and begin again - knowing now that the enemy no longer doubts me either. <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Go back">>

REVAN: A Disturbance In The Force REVAN feels something, opened from far away. It feels flat, static, dense. His eyebrows raise slightly as his eyes close. He reaches out, exploring the change in the Force. It’s coming fast. This isn’t just a tremor. He moves quickly into his chair, activating sensor dials on the cockpit dash, feeling it get closer - The world around him twists. Everything is black. REVAN fights back into consciousness. His eyes can't perceive anything, but that stopped being his primary sense long ago. A pressure wave, invisible yet crushing, hammers through the ship. Shadows take form, stretching unnaturally long. The temperature drops. REVAN falls back against his chair as she feels a storm of dark distortions burst through the Force. It feels like Medriaas. Like the holocron - command. The Force is being used against him. REVAN pulls his awareness tight, folding himself inward the way he did long ago - on the Star Forge, in the ruins, in the tomb. He doesn’t fight the distortion head-on, he lets it pass through him, reducing his presence to a razor-thin line of self. Reality fractures, stars vanish, space loses meaning. He stands nowhere and everywhere at once, suspended in a vast interior distance that feels older than language. The Force here has been rendered obedient, bent into shape around a single, undeniable center. <img src="Act1/Revan1Disturbance.png" class="png"> Someone watches him. A figure resolves out of the distortion, unformed, the outline indistinct, impossible to anchor. It is bathed in a radiance the color of molten gold, a light that does not illuminate so much as assert. Around it, the Force curves inward, not violently, but reverently - like tides drawn to a moon that does not need to pull. REVAN understands with a chill clarity that this is collateral. A shadow cast by intention elsewhere. Yet the figure does not move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t react to him. Whatever this is, it is in control of something vast - and it knows it has been felt. REVAN feels the pressure coming down on him, in golden weights piling on. He forces himself to step back, stepping back from the connection. It gets worse, hungry for his flesh; regrettably pushes out with all his might, severing the connection. Like so many times before, he collapses his presence into himself, until there is nothing left to map. The pressure releases. He gasps as the world slams back into place, again. The Phantom shudders, alarms screaming through the cockpit as systems cascade into failure - power surges, sensor spikes, feedback loops overloading Force-sensitive components. Data scrolls across deadening screens, painting the same impossible conclusion again and again. His eyes adjust to the focused light of the screens, adding context and information to the Distortion he just experienced. This was everywhere. This wasn’t an accident. He pulls himself upright, eyes scanning the damage as reports begin to arrive - fragmented transmissions from his Revanchists, automated probes, long-seeded sensors scattered across the galaxy. Every signal aligns on one truth: anything attuned to the Force reacted. Jedi. Sith remnants. Beasts. Artifacts. Worlds with old wounds reopened all at once. Cascading into the galaxy…in the same way some animals use echolocation He closes his eyes and feels it now…a deep, coiling unease. A signal cast across the galaxy that caused psychological distress, but seemed to listen. To measure response. To confirm awareness. The vectors do not point outward, as weapons do. They curve inward, converging toward the Deep Core like a heartbeat echoing back to its source. Over the next few days, REVAN searches his memory, his notes, the Force itself for precedent - and finds none. Nothing like this. Nothing so confident. Fifteen years in the dark, circling ruins, chasing erasures. And the last few years the trail becoming cold and broken. For this to suddenly happen… He exhales slowly, heavy breaths. His time of waiting has ended. Whatever he has been hunting is finally moving in the galaxy. They won’t be hiding anymore. REVAN turns from the viewport and sets a course back toward the Known Galaxy. Whether he reveals himself or remains a shadow is a question for later. For now, the galaxy has felt the touch of the T’Sisaarai…even if it does not yet know their name. <<set $["Revan1Disturbance"] to "unlocked">> <<set $activeCharacters = ["REVAN"]>> [[Travel to Known Space->Revan1TravelToKnownSpace]]

REVAN: Xeron <img src="Act1/Revan1Xeron.gif" class="gif"> The PHANTOM's hull flexes, its vectors realigning as the Unknown Regions begin to loosen their grip. The stars behind it thin into abstraction; ahead, they sharpen into patterns the galaxy pretends are safe. The Force grows louder as REVAN approaches it - cluttered, careless, saturated with unguarded thought. Too many voices. Too many assumptions. He folds himself inward, narrowing his presence until even he can barely feel it. He started north of Lwhekk, deep in the lower west of the galaxy, far from civilization. His course bends toward Xeron - a quiet world positioned at the square formed by the Corellian Trade Spine and the Shipwrights’ Trace Run. Busy enough to disappear into, old enough to remember discretion. A Revanchist cell waits there, scattered, disciplined, unaware of the full weight pressing behind his eyes. They hold resources for him, materials siphoned from forgotten depots, information pulled from places the Republic no longer bothers to guard. Enough to restock what he has rationed for much too long He keeps his urgency buried - if it surfaces, it will echo. His years in the lonely dark have taught him that motion only requires intent. As the PHANTOM slips fully back into the Known Galaxy, REVAN does not feel relief. He feels exposure. This space is dangerous in a different way…too familiar, too watched. He moves through it as he always has - without herald, without promise, without allowing history to notice his return. If anyone senses him now, it will only be because they were already looking. And that thought settles cold and heavy in his chest as the stars close in around him. The stars stretch out of pale lines as REVAN’s ship slips free of speed faster than light. Hours out from orbit, the void ahead is clean, silent…exactly as he intended. He is masked and unseen. Another shadow moving through the dark between wars. As the PHANTOM settles in space…the Force unexpectedly breaks shape for REVAN. Something new…a new stream, directed to him. It’s familiar… <<set $["Revan1Xeron"] to "unlocked">> <<set $activeCharacters = ["REVAN"]>> [[Redirected->Revan1Redirected]]

REVAN: Travel to Known Space <img src="Act1/Phantom1Xeron.png" class="png"> While travelling to Xeron... * [[Revan's Journaul:->RevanJournaul]] Read through journaul entries to understand the coming T'Sisaarai threat. * [[Center The Self:->Revan1Meditate]] Engage in meditation to resist the T'Sisaarai threat. * <<if $Revan1NareshaIntel is "Unlocked">>[[Naresha:->Revan1NareshaIntel]] Reach out to REVAN's best spy.<<else>>[[Naresha:->Revan1NareshaContact]] Reach out to REVAN's best spy.<</if>> * <<if !$Revan1NareshaIntel>><<else>>[[Approach Xeron->Revan1Xeron]] Make contact with a Revanchist cell.<</if>> <<set $Revan1TravelToKnownSpace to "unlocked">> [[Review Galactic history->Datapad]]

REVAN: Redirected REVAN stiffens, breath catching before he realizes it has. The sensation is sudden and invasive - an ache where calm had been, a pressure behind thought. He knows this presence before his mind allows the name. BASTILA. Distress bleeds through their sustained bond as a reopened wound: fear, strain, pain held back by will alone. It is not a cry for help, but it’s close. Too close. For an instant, REVAN’s practiced discipline falters, and something dangerous surfaces: sharp relief represented as a lump in his throat. She lives. Their bond still holds. Across half the galaxy, she is there. <img src="Act1/Revan1Redirected.png" class="png"> His hands start to move unconsciously to open the comm array…he forces his hands to halt. He cannot, will not answer her. To do so would risk everything - his concealment, her safety, the fragile edge he walks between preparation and revelation. But…the pull of her presence is overwhelming, a gravity no hyperdrive can escape. He forces himself still, lets the surge pass through him without response. Think. Work through it. REVAN reaches past his emotion, following the disturbance to its source. The bond only shows wordless truths, urgency tied to places, distress bound to a world. A planet. An attack. The shape of it is wrong, but it is deliberate. This is not the work of proxies or cults. This is not the slow corrosion he has been tracking. It feels like…something has moved openly. He turns to the sensor readouts, eyes narrowing. Patterns shift as he compares recent data - traffic anomalies, gravitational noise, faint signatures that should not exist. The galaxy flinched, and only now does he see it. Carefully, he reaches again into the Force, past BASTILA, past the noise of fear and fire… The answer is cold and unmistakable…the T’Sisaarai. Them. Present. Active. Unmasked. REVAN exhales, steadying himself as panic claws at the edge of his thoughts, dropping the lump in his throat into the pit of his chest. If they’ve struck directly, then the long, silent war has crossed a line. This is no longer preparation. Escalation has been chosen by them. He gives himself only a moment, to feel the weight of it. Then he casts it aside, for action. He sends out another fractal message, to NARESHA. Where is the Sojourn headed? The tense minutes go by. He reaches through the Force. He knows the enemy is revealing themselves, but he can’t sense them yet. His anxiety is starting to raise into his throat when he finally gets her answer: Telos IV. Hands move with calm precision over the controls. Star charts shift. A new vector locks in, hard and direct. Xeron falls away behind him, forgotten. The ship pivots toward a name already burning in his mind. If the war has begun there, then that is where he will go. <<set $["Revan1Redirected"] to "unlocked">> [[Into The Open->Revan1IntoTheOpen]]

REVAN: Into The Open Unlike his search for the enemy’s hidden throne last time, space does not scream his end this time. It’s still slow and uneven, held together by intention rather than safety - as REVAN forces the PHANTOM into hyperspace flux. The stars fracture into bent streaks, not tearing apart so much as folding inward, compressed by a will that refuses to wait. The PHANTOM shudders, but obeys its master. Smaller vessels would shear apart under this strain. Larger ones would lose coherence. The PHANTOM survives because it listens - and because REVAN knows how to skirt the edges. Because of hyperspace fluxing, two weeks of travel collapses into a little under three days. Time loses its shape. Sleep comes in fragments, meditation in shallow layers. The Force is loud in the fluxes, distorted by velocity, pulled thin and sharp like wire. REVAN stays anchored only by discipline, by repetition, by the habit of refusing fear even when it is earned. On the second day of travel, the Force cries out as a part of it is violently opened up in the galaxy. Life vanished in a single, impossible moment. REVAN gasps as the sensation tears through him - an absence so vast it feels physical, like something ripping free inside his chest. This is not death as he knows it. Something was consumed…hollowed in the Force, voices extinguished so completely they leave behind a vacuum that howls. <img src="Act1/Revan1IntoTheOpen.png" class="png"> It has to be Telos IV. His mind floods with memories of the Unknown Regions - dead systems, civilizations erased so thoroughly that even echoes struggled to remain. He had hoped, foolishly, that those were relics of an older age. Experiments. Warnings. He wished he wasn’t wrong. The T’Sisaarai are no longer in the shadows. They’re demonstrating their power now. Repeating the horrors of lost civilizations in the Unknown Regions. REVAN aborts the flux with a reflex born of pain. Reality slams back into place, the PHANTOM lurching as spacetime reasserts itself unevenly. He grips the console harder than necessary, breath ragged, eyes unfocused. He forces himself still…panic is useless…panic is indulgence. Think. To Her Stars stabilize around him. The Celanon system drifts far out of view, untouched and uncaring. REVAN recalibrates by instinct alone, hands moving without conscious thought. His thoughts are elsewhere - spiraling around the scale of what he just felt. He has to find the next action. He opens the old beacon network almost without realizing it. A habit from another life. Most signals return nothing - dark, silent, gone. Some losses he expected. Others sting more than he allows himself to acknowledge. Two responses cut through the emptiness….Bastila Shan. Carth Onasi. Ebon Hawk. Alive. Together. Somewhere in the Corsin system. <img src="Act1/Revan1ToHer.png" class="png"> Relief hits him like vertigo. For a dangerous moment, he lets it. Lets himself feel how close he came to believing the worst. Lets the bond stir - reminding him what is still at stake. And that is exactly what terrifies him. If he makes himself known now, the silence ends. The myth ends. The distance he built so carefully collapses, replaced by faces, voices, questions he has rehearsed a thousand times and still dreads answering. Why he left. Why he stayed gone. Why he chose isolation over trust. He knows his reasons are sound. Necessary. The galaxy needed someone searching where no one else would. But knowing that does not make facing them easier. He has missed her. Them. All of them. The ache of that truth has followed him through every dead system and forgotten ruin. Yet even now, as he turns the PHANTOM toward Corsin, unease coils tighter in his chest. Emotional bonds are weapons the enemy could turn against him. The coming war will demand clarity, sacrifice, ruthlessness. He cannot afford hesitation - not when the T’Sisaarai wield annihilation itself. And beneath all of it lies the deepest fear…despite everything he has learned…he still does not know who truly leads them. Not the source of their power. Not the will behind the devouring. An empire does not move like this without a mind at its center. REVAN sets his course. The stars realign. He will step back into the light of history - into the lives he left behind - because the galaxy can no longer wait. And somewhere, beyond the stars and silent graves…his true enemy still watches him. <<set $["Revan1IntoTheOpen"] to "unlocked">> <<set $activeCharacters = ["REVAN"]>> [[Revealed->Revan1FinalMoments]]

TYTHON: Enclave <img src="Act1/Tython1TempleArrivalReverse.png" class="png"> * [[Padawans:->Tython1Padawans]] The Jedi of Tython ask the HEROES their questions. * [[Jolee Bindo:->Tython1Jolee]] Speak with Master JOLEE. * [[Juhani:->Tython1Juhani]] Speak with Master JUHANI. * [[Balance:->Tython1Balance]] The HEROES participate in a Padawan training session. * [[Instability:->Tython1Instability]] Investigate Force Distortions in Tython. [[Return to the EBON HAWK->EbonHawk1.1]]

TYTHON: Jolee Bindo <img src="Act1/Tython1JoleeBindo.png" class="png"> The Enclave settles back into its quiet rhythm as the Padawans are gently ushered away, their excitement trailing off into whispers and glances over shoulders. Most of the HEROES leave with them, with MIRA looking back at MEETRA, who gives a confirming nod - leaving MEETRA alone with JOLEE. He plants his staff, stretches his back with a soft grunt, and turns to MEETRA with a grin that hasn’t aged a day. * JOLEE: “Well,” looking her up and down, “You look less dead than the last time the galaxy tried to kill you. That’s progress.” MEETRA exhales a quiet laugh she didn’t realize she’d been holding. * MEETRA (smiling): “It’s good to see you too, JOLEE.” * JOLEE: “For the record,” wagging a finger, “If you ever disappear into exile again, try sending a postcard. Saves people a lot of worrying. Or at least gives them something to be smug about later.” They stand there for a moment - not awkward, just full. Too much history compressed into shared silence. Wars survived. Orders broken. Names lost. Finally, JOLEE gestures with his chin toward the valley. * JOLEE: “Walk with me. Standing still on Tython tends to make the planet think you’re meditating. And then it starts expecting things.” The two JEDI walk down the path surrounded by the trees of Tython... <<link "After the Jedi Civil War">><<replace "#After">> After The Jedi Civil War MEETRA slows at the stone terrace overlooking the valley. She doesn’t look at JOLEE as she asks her question * MEETRA: “You never told me the full story. What actually brought you here. Not the reports. Not the fragments.” JOLEE exhales, already smiling like he’s been cornered into honesty. * JOLEE: “That’s because every time we talked, something important was on fire.” * MEETRA (turning to him): “I still want to hear it.” He leans against the railing, staff hooked beneath his arm. The old wood creaks softly. * JOLEE: “After Rakata Prime…everyone wanted closure. Star Forge destroyed. Malak’s Empire finished. Nice clean ending people could build monuments around.” He snorts. “But the Force doesn’t do clean endings. Revan had just disappeared. I felt it…shift, like old currents woke up. Things buried in the galaxy started stretching. JUHANI started feeling it too - different shape than mine. Same direction.” * MEETRA: “You thought it was Revan.” * JOLEE (immediate): “Of course we did! When something breaks reality, you blame the man who made a lifestyle out of doing that.” His expression tightens. “But this didn’t feel like him. Revan likes to leave fingerprints. This felt like we’d brushed against the core of the Force. So we followed it, borrowed a ship. Took routes hyperspace doesn’t like remembering. Places where gravity forgets the rules halfway through.” He glances upward at the blue sky, reminiscing. * JOLEE (continuing, voice low): “And then we broke through those stormy clouds, on what we thought was an undiscovered planet. We found the ruins of Kaleth, a city that remembers being important. And above it, an ancient mystery that somehow stayed intact.” * MEETRA (quietly): “The Tho Yor.” * JOLEE: “We didn’t have a name yet for it yet. Just knew it wasn’t ours. We didn’t have much time to figure it out though.” He shifts, staff tapping once against stone. “Flesh Raiders were everywhere. Feeding on the planet’s imbalance like parasites. Every raid made the storms worse. Every storm drove them deeper into the ruins.” * MEETRA (sneaking smile): “So you stayed, to try to fix it.” * JOLEE: “For years. Two stubborn Jedi who refused to leave.” His shoulders readjusted at the memory. “Every time we held ground, the storms eased. Every time we failed, the planet got louder.” He gestures to the valley below. “Soon enough it clicked for me - this world doesn’t care what you believe. It responds to what you do.” He allows the silence to settle, reminiscing on the struggles now in the past. * JOLEE (quieter): “Eventually, people started finding us. Survivors. Force-sensitives. Jedi who didn’t fit anywhere else anymore.” * MEETRA (giving an understanding smile): “And you let them stay. I know that feeling too well.” * JOLEE (crooked smile): “Well, someone had to make sure the Force didn’t rot while the galaxy argued about rebuilding.” He straightens, the old swagger locking back into place. “So here I am. Teaching kids on a forgotten world. Trying very hard not to call it an Order.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Tython">><<replace "#Tython">>Tython MEETRA walks beside JOLEE along the stone path that skirts the Enclave’s edge. Below them, the land stretches out in careful calm - trees swaying in slow agreement with the wind, clouds moving as if guided rather than blown. She studies it for a long moment before speaking. * MEETRA: “I still don’t understand this world. It doesn’t behave like anywhere else. It reacts and adjusts to anything it holds in the moment.” * JOLEE (huffing): “It’s hard to miss. Most Jedi are terrified of it, wanting to pretend it’s not happening.” * MEETRA (slowing her steps): “You’ve lived here long enough to see patterns. What do you think the Je’daii understood about this place?” JOLEE stops. He plants his staff and gathers his words thoughtfully. * JOLEE: “That’s the dangerous question. Because the more time I spend here, the more convinced I am that they didn’t understand it the way we like to imagine.” MEETRA turns to face him, curious * JOLEE (continuing): “They lived with it, that’s the difference. I don’t think the Je’daii mastered the Force. They treated it like weather, normal weather, heh. Something you prepare for, respect, and occasionally get flattened by.” He gestures broadly at the valley. “If you push too hard toward Ashla, the land dries, storms gather. You sink too deep into Bogan, the ground fractures, predators get bold. Tython doesn’t punish belief - it responds to imbalance.” * MEETRA (nodding slowly): “So balance wasn’t doctrine.” * JOLEE: “Balance was survival. You learned it or you died. Simple system. Very effective.” * MEETRA: “And the Je’daii didn’t leave records explaining this.” * JOLEE (snorting): “Oh, they left records. Fragments. Symbols. Contradictions stacked on top of each other. Enough to tell us that something mattered - never enough to tell us why.” He squints up at the sky. “Which makes me think that was intentional.” MEETRA (eyebrow raised): “You think they chose not to explain themselves.” * JOLEE: “I think they didn’t trust explanations. Words fossilize ideas. Tython doesn’t tolerate that very well.” They resume walking. The Force shifts subtly around them, as if acknowledging the conversation. * JOLEE (continuing): “For all we know, the Je’daii didn’t build hierarchies the way we did. No Grand Masters. No rigid progression. You advanced by demonstrating balance, not obedience. And if you failed…” He shrugs. “The planet noticed.” * MEETRA: “That kind of system wouldn’t survive elsewhere.” * JOLEE: “Exactly. It only works because Tython enforces it. Try exporting that philosophy to Coruscant and you get politics. Or dogma. Or war. Makes sense why the Order went so hard one direction.” MEETRA glances back toward the distant Tho Yor, thoughts turning over in her head. * MEETRA: “And the structures?” * JOLEE (voice lowering): “Those? Eh. I think they were reminders.” * MEETRA: “Of what?” * JOLEE: “That the Force doesn’t belong to us. And never did.” MEETRA feels the truth of it resonate. Something about the Force not having loyalty or ownership feels so fresh of an idea, but she’s never seen it represented as strong as Tython, or the Tho Yor structure. * MEETRA: “So the Je’daii weren’t an Order,” she says. * JOLEE (smiling faintly): “No. They were a relationship.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Tho Yor">><<replace "#ThoYor">>The Tho Yor MEETRA slows as the path curves, the Tho Yor visible again through breaks in the trees - immense, angular, patient. The Force around it feels distinctly of layers, like tides stacked atop one another, somehow giving the impression of attention. With this moment free to give to it, she feels it clearly now. * MEETRA: “The Tho Yor feels different. More active than it should be.” JOLEE stops with her. He squints at the structure, head tilted as if listening for a sound only he expects to hear. * JOLEE: “I agree. How do you interpret them?” * MEETRA: “Denser. The balance hasn’t shifted, but its rhythm has. Like it’s responding to something that already happened.” * JOLEE (brow furrowed): “That’s…not something I hear every day.” * MEETRA (turning to him): “There were Force Distortions. Across the galaxy. Strong ones.” His eyes snap back to her. * JOLEE: “Distortions? What did they look like?” * MEETRA: “It was felt everywhere…planets, Force Sensitives, artifacts. It felt like a pressure wave, measuring response. It felt overwhelmingly purposeful. BASTILA sent us out to investigate them.” JOLEE stares at her for a beat, then lets out a slow cautious breath. * JOLEE: “That’s the odd part…because nothing happened here. Nothing that I picked up on.” * MEETRA (looking back to him, questioning): “Nothing?” * JOLEE: “No storms. No tremors. No Padawans waking up screaming in the night.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t even get a headache. And this place loves giving headaches.” She stands for a moment, absorbing this anomaly. This opened up a new path of information in the mystery of this subtle attack on the galaxy. * MEETRA: “That absence matters. If the disturbance reached everywhere else, then Tython wasn’t missed by accident.” * JOLEE (grip tightens on his staff): “Or, it was deliberately avoided.” They look back toward the Tho Yor together, searching for answers. * MEETRA (continuing): “The distortions acted like radar, on a galactic scale. A signal cast wide. The kind of thing meant to see who answers.” * JOLEE (grip tightens on his staff): “And Tython stayed silent.” * MEETRA: “But it looks like the Tho Yor didn’t.” The statement settles between them. JOLEE exhales, slow and thoughtful. * JOLEE: “If something sent a call through the Force and skipped this world…then these structures might be reacting not to the call - but to the fact that it wasn’t meant for them.” * MEETRA (nodding): “Or to whoever sent it realizing Tython exists.” JOLEE lets out a dry chuckle that doesn’t quite mask his concern. * JOLEE: “That’d be unfortunate. Ancient, galaxy-spanning powers usually prefer their foundations forgotten.” He looks up at the Tho Yor again. “They’ve always been quiet. Passive. Like anchors.” A pause. “If they’re stirring now, it means something’s pulling on the chain.” MEETRA feels the weight of it. A pattern forming without revealing its center. * MEETRA: “So the Tho Yor aren’t waking up. They’re reacting to…something.” * JOLEE (nods once): “And I don’t much like reacting to things I can’t see.” The wind passes through the trees, steady and controlled. The Tho Yor remains unmoving - but the Force around it listens, layered and alert. JOLEE turns from the Tho Yor, forcing a lighter tone that doesn’t quite land. * JOLEE: “Well. That explains the strange behavior without making it any less concerning.” They resume walking, the Enclave ahead, the Tho Yor behind them…silent, balanced, and now undeniably aware. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Tython Padawans">><<replace "#Padawans">>Tython Padawans MEETRA watches the training circles below: the Padawans adjusting mid-form, correcting themselves before instructors intervene. The Force stays even, responsive, never clenched into obedience. * MEETRA: “They move like they’re actually listening to each other. Not reciting the same form.” * JOLEE (following her gaze): “That’s Tython’s doing. The planet doesn’t reward memorization.” * MEETRA (turning to him): “What are they lacking here?” He lets out a quiet, humorless breath, putting together his words. He taps his staff against the stone, once. * JOLEE: “Honest scars. They’re learning without the old Masters looming over them. That’s freeing. It’s also dangerous.” He gestures toward the valley. “Vrook would’ve hated this place. Too much uncertainty. He believed discipline could cage the Force if you tightened the bars enough. He produced loyal Jedi that were brittle on the inside.” * JOLEE (smiling): “Vandar was kind. Wise. Patient to the point of paralysis. He would’ve loved this place. But he also waited for clarity that never came on a battlefield. His students learned contemplation and forgot about timing.” JOLEE’s mouth tightens before the last name. * JOLEE (blunt): “And Atris,” growling her name. “Brilliant, tireless…so certain the archives could save the Order that she turned memory into a weapon.” MEETRA flinches - sharp, involuntary. Her breath catches, then steadies. She keeps her eyes on the trainees. JOLEE notices, but doesn’t soften his tone. * JOLEE (continuing): “Atris taught control by accumulation. Knowledge stacked high enough to block doubt. She didn’t raise students - she raised mirrors. Jedi who believed righteousness came from being right.” He looks back to the Padawans. “These kids don’t have that inheritance. No stone-set dogma. No council chambers echoing certainty back at them.” * MEETRA (quietly): “And no warning signs.” * JOLEE: “Exactly. They feel Ashla and Bogan as currents, not mistakes. That’s good. But when conviction hardens, they won’t recognize the sound it makes until something breaks.” Below, a young Knight steps between two sparring Padawans, lowers a hand, calms the moment with a word instead of a command. * MEETRA (watching): “Their potential is strong.” * JOLEE (agreeing): “They do. They also have blind spots the size of the old Order’s ruins. No Masters left to say, we tried that and it burned worlds.” * MEETRA (exhaling): “So you teach without pretending to replace them.” * JOLEE (grins, crooked): “I teach them to distrust certainty. And to remember that balance isn’t comfort if they forgot to put work into it.” MEETRA’s gaze lingers on the trainees, Atris’ name settling like dust she can’t quite shake. * MEETRA: “They’ll need people who remember the cost.” * JOLEE (nods): “That’s why I don’t let legends leave early.”<</replace>><</link>> [[Explore the Tython Enclave->Tython1Explore1]]

The Rediscovery Of Tython <<link "3,954 BBY: The Vision and the Journey">><<replace "#VisionJourney">>3,954 BBY: The Vision and the Journey In the aftermath of the True Sith rumors and their travels with Revan, JOLEE BINDO and JUHANI continued to feel ripples in the Force. Both experienced visions of a storm-wracked planet, a towering spire of stone, and echoes of ancient voices calling them home. At first, they believed this had to be connected to Revan’s quest into the Unknown Regions. Perhaps this was a trail he had left behind, or even the very world where he had vanished. Trusting the Force, they took passage aboard an old Consular-class cruiser - a Republic diplomatic vessel JOLEE had “borrowed” contacts to acquire. Though outdated, its reinforced hull and long-range capabilities made it hardy enough to survive the Deep Core’s hyperspace instability. After months of treacherous navigation through gravity wells and violent storms, the ship broke through the clouds and descended to the surface of a world all current-day star charts had forgotten about: Tython. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3,954 BBY: Kaleth and the Tho Yor">><<replace "#KalethThoYor">>3,954 BBY: Kaleth and the Tho Yor Landing near an ancient ruin, they discovered Kaleth, a city in ruins but still haunted by the memory of its builders. The Force resonated there in ways neither had felt before - chaotic, alive, unyielding. And sitting on a mountain near the shattered city stood a towering, inscrutable construct: a Tho Yor. They could not name it, nor enter it, but they felt its power radiating like a beacon. Their first assumption was that Revan himself must have come here before them. The world felt linked to his mysterious departure. But as they explored Kaleth, finding inscriptions and relics, they began to suspect something deeper - this was not Revan’s resting place, but an origin point. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3,954–3,950 BBY: The War with the Flesh Raiders">><<replace "#FleshRaiders">>3,954–3,950 BBY: The War with the Flesh Raiders Kaleth was infested with Flesh Raiders, feral descendants of Rakatan bio-engineering. Their presence ignited the planet’s imbalance, feeding the dark side and unleashing storms that battered the ruins day and night. For four years, Jolee and Juhani waged a relentless campaign to clear a safe zone for themselves on the planet. They defended their shuttle, built makeshift walls, and fought constant raids. Slowly, with persistence, cunning, and a bit of learned understanding of the Flesh Raider way of life, they carved out a safe zone: an area where Flesh Raiders were purged or repelled. Astonishingly, with every victory Jolee and Juhani won, the weather shifted; lightning gave way to blue skies, and forests once choked with stormclouds began to bloom. By 3950 BBY, Kaleth had a stable perimeter with dependable defenses - crude towers, reinforced shelters, and Force-imbued wards. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "3,950-3,945 BBY: The Enclave">><<replace "#Enclave">>3,950-3,945 BBY: The Enclave With Kaleth secured, Jolee and Juhani raised a permanent enclave north of the city, chosen for its defensibility and relative distance from Flesh Raider nests. The outpost was humble - stone walls, watchtowers, and a hall for meditation - but it became a beacon. Word of their work filtered through Jedi survivors scattered across the Republic. Jolee and Juhani began to seek out & receive those who sought training, or simply sanctuary from the chaos still plaguing the galaxy. Mical, who had taken to his role as a Jedi Historian, worked to identify Force Sensitive potentials. Meetra Surik held a loose advising role, but mostly stayed focused on her own efforts outside of Tython Though small in number, these Padawans represented the rebirth of the Jedi on Tython. Jolee and Juhani had no illusions that this was a “new Order” yet, but they understood that the planet itself demanded guardians who could hold the balance. <</replace>><</link>>

TYTHON: Balance <img src="Act1/Tython1Balance.png" class="png"> The training grounds of Tython open into a wide stone basin, carved naturally into the hillside. Ancient trees ring the space, their roots exposed and intertwined, drinking deeply from the Force that runs thick beneath the soil. The air is still, unnaturally but intentional. MASTER JOLEE steps into the basin first, staff tapping once against the stone. MASTER JUHANI follows, her posture calm, her presence steady and centered. One by one, the Padawans gather, eighteen in total, forming a loose circle. Some sit. Some stand. All of them breathe, waiting for their Master’s instruction. The HEROES observe from outside the circle. MEETRA stands with her senses open, the memory of this practice settling over her like a familiar mantle. ATTON leans casually against a stone pillar, pretending that he doesn’t care as much as he’d like to. BAO-DUR studies the space like a living equation, eyes tracking the subtle shifts in air pressure and energy density. MIRA folds her arms, skeptical but alert. T3-M4 rolls to a clear vantage point and begins recording, optics humming quietly as data streams into storage. JOLEE’s rugged and commanding voice breaks the stillness. * JOLEE: “Balance isn’t a destination. It’s maintenance. Same as breathing. Stop doing it, and things get uncomfortable fast.” JOLEE nods to JUHANI, who turns her attention outward, her gaze settling on MIRA. * JUHANI: “MIRA - I would like you to participate in this exercise.” * MIRA (blinking, uncertain): “Me?” * JUHANI (evenly): “Yes. I would like you to reach out…for Bogan.” * MIRA (stuttering, brow furrowed): “I -... I don’t know how to do that on purpose. What is -” Before MIRA can answer, ATTON, who had mischievously picked up on what the word meant, steps in and punches MIRA in the arm. * MIRA (snapping): “Hey!” pain flaring into sharp, reflexive anger. The Padawans giggle, a subdued chorus of amusement The planet reacts instantly to MIRA, wind surging through the basin, sudden and forceful. Clouds darken overhead, rolling inward as if summoned. Leaves scatter across the stone floor. The air grows heavy, charged, the pressure dropping just enough to be felt in the lungs. A low rumble passes beneath their feet, like thunder. * JOLEE (wincing): “That was a teaching moment, ATTON. Not a declaration of war.” MIRA glares at him, then stills as she realizes what’s happening. Her anger feels different. Now it feels anchored, from all around her. The Force around her tightens, bends, responds to her. JUHANI raises a hand, calm and steady. * JUHANI: “Good. Do not suppress it. Observe it.” The Padawans shift, observing MIRA and the environment, some instinctively grounding themselves. * JOLEE (turning to the Padawans): “Ashla. Slow. Together.” The Padawans all inhale as one, and Ashla answers, unfurling in warmth. The wind slows, then reverses direction, flowing gently back into the basin. Sunlight pierces the clouds in soft bands, illuminating the stone and roots alike. A second reaction, related but different, begins; the Force thickens, becoming almost tangible - like standing knee-deep in cool, moving water. The Padawans adjust, pulling and releasing in careful measure. Through their actions in the Force, they carefully and consciously balance with Ashla against MIRA’s pull of Bogan. The space between Light and Dark stabilizes, the tension held. MIRA feels it, and exhales. Her anger loosens its grip, fading into… something feeling complete. The weather follows her release, clouds thinning, air clearing, the ground settling. * JOLEE (nodding approvingly): “There. No effort. Just honesty.” The Padawans continue a moment longer, fine-tuning like a careful art piece, until the basin rests in equilibrium. The Force flows, present, generous, unmistakable. * ATTON (staring, wide-eyed): “I’ve…never felt it like that. Like the Force is standing closer.” * BAO-DUR (quiet, awed): “Distributed balance. No single dominant vector.” * MIRA (softly laughing): “Okay. Now I get why people come here.” MEETRA smiles, warmth settling in her chest. This is what the Force feels like when it isn’t broken or screaming, when it’s allowed to be whole. * JOLEE (claps once, satisfied): “Good work. Same time tomorrow. Everyone go get some food! And ATTON -” giving him an annoyed look, ”-next time you demonstrate Bogan, try words first.” ATTON responds with a sheepish look at JOLEE, passing it to MEETRA. She smiles a sneaky knowing smile. MIRA sees it, her eyes going big in surprise. * MIRA: “Wait, you - you told him to do this!” Her surprise changes into a mix of mock shock and annoyance. * MEETRA (shrugging): “Hey…I knew you’d be a great example to these kids.” Her sneaky smile grows into a big one. [[Explore the Tython Enclave->Tython1Explore1]]

TYTHON: Padawans <img src="Act1/Tython1Padawans.png" class="png"> They disperse in small clusters, until someone spots the HEROES still standing at the edge. Whispers ripple, spreading faster than the awareness of the HEROES can catch. Within moments, a half-dozen Padawans approach, then a few more - trying very hard to look composed, failing completely. They stop just short, eyes wide, expressions caught somewhere between reverence and disbelief. One of the Padawans bows too deeply and almost loses their balance. (blurting) “Is it true, that you defeated an entire Sith armada with only the Force and a damaged freighter?” * ATTON (blinking): “I - what?” (breathless) “MASTER RAND, did you really outfly three Sith Interceptors while unconscious?” * ATTON (pointing at himself): “Unconscious?” BAO-DUR folds his arms, already seeing where this is going. * BAO-DUR: “That sounds… structurally improbable.” “MASTER MIRA - they say you hunted Sith assassins across five systems without ever being seen. That you once tracked one by listening to the Force through explosions.” * MIRA (squinting): “I… I feel like that story got away from someone.” T3-M4 emits a cheerful series of beeps. One Padawan gasps. “It’s him! The droid who carried the Jedi Archives through Malachor.” T3-M4’s projector flashes a polite acknowledgement icon and begins recording. Another Padawan steps forward, clearly trying to remain calm, and failing. (voice shaking) “GENERAL SURIK, is it true you stood alone against the Sith Triumvirate and convinced the Force itself to stop screaming?” * MEETRA (slightly wincing): “That’s… not how I’d describe it.” “But you survived! You all did.” * ATTON (clearing his throat):* “Look, most of what you’ve heard probably started with something true and then got… aggressively improved.” “Master Bindo says legends are just history that’s lost its manners.” * ATTON (pausing): “I like that, old man.” BAO-DUR kneels slightly so he’s closer to their height. * BAO-DUR: “What matters isn’t what we did. It’s why we survived doing it. And what it cost.” That sobers them, just a little. MIRA exhales and softens her tone. * MIRA: “None of us were invincible. We were scared. We made mistakes. A lot of them.” “But, you won!” * MEETRA (meeting their gaze): “We endured. That’s different.” The Padawans absorb that, thoughtful. Then one of them brightens again. “Still… you’re all real.” * ATTON (grinning crookedly): “Unfortunately.” JOLEE’s voice carries from behind them, amused and sharp. * JOLEE: “Alright, that’s enough worship for one afternoon. Legends have chores too.” The Padawans laugh, stepping back reluctantly, eyes still shining. As they disperse, MEETRA watches them go…hopeful, imperfect, already reshaping the truth into something they can carry. Stories grow here. And so do the people who will someday outgrow them. [[Explore the Tython Enclave->Tython1Explore1]]

TYTHON: Juhani <img src="Act1/Tython1Juhani.png" class="png"> Dusk settles, and the temple quiets as MEETRA wanders its outer corridors alone. The architecture feels unfinished in places, as if the Force is expected to complete the job. She reaches the broad steps overlooking the valley and sits, letting the calm press in. She senses her before hears the careful footsteps, pausing, not certain if they can intrude. MEETRA glances back. * MEETRA (gently): “You don’t have to hover. If you’re tired, you can sit.” JUHANI’s breath and body stiffen before she relaxes. She joins MEETRA on the steps, leaving a respectful space between them, hands folded neatly in her lap. The silence lingers, but it’s an easy one. * MEETRA (looking out to the valley): “This place has a way of slowing things down. I keep thinking I should be doing something. And then I realize…I already am.” * JUHANI (considering): “Tython encourages reflection. Sometimes…insistently.” * MEETRA (faint smile): “I was hoping to borrow some of that reflection. With company, if you don’t mind.” JUHANI blinks, caught slightly off guard. * JUHANI (hesitating): “I - no. I do not mind. Open conversation does not always come easily to me.” * MEETRA: “It doesn’t have to go anywhere. We can let it wander. Or sit quietly until it decides to start on its own.” * JUHANI (starting to relax): “That would be…acceptable.” <<link "After the Jedi Civil War">><<replace "#PostCivil">> After the Jedi Civil War MEETRA turns slightly, giving JUHANI her full attention. * MEETRA: “I’ve heard fragments, reports. Assumptions. But not you. What happens after Rakata Prime for you?” JUHANI’s posture stiffens on instinct. Then she exhales, measured, controlled, and nods once before beginning.. * JUHANI: “After the battle, the galaxy felt…unmoored. The Star Forge was gone, but the Force did not settle. I expected clarity. Instead, there was silence.” She folds her hands together, claws resting carefully against stone. “I returned to the Jedi believing service would quiet that feeling. It did not. The Council spoke of rebuilding, of restoring what was lost - but they spoke as if nothing fundamental had changed.” Her jaw tightens. “Something had.” MEETRA listens, attentive, as she shares her story. * JUHANI (continuing): “I begin to dream. Storms, stone rising through cloud. An ethereal but dominant presence. I think it my own unrest at first, a penance wearing a new shape.” She glances aside, then back. “Then, JOLEE speaks of the same visions. Different details, but same destination.” A pause. The admission costs her something. * JUHANI: “That is when I know it is not imagination. The Force is…connecting us with itself, somehow.” She pauses, to refocus her words. “We travel together, through hyperspace routes that resist passage. The pull becomes stronger with each jump.” Her gaze drifts toward the valley. “When we reach this world, I understand why. Tython does not tolerate self-deception. It reflects what you bring to it - nothing more or less.” She swallows. “The Flesh Raiders force that lesson daily. Every battle strips away justification. Victory requires balance. Failure is immediate and instructive.” MEETRA’s expression softens, seeing the weight of JUHANI’s decisions within herself. * JUHANI: “Staying was not a decision. It became alignment with the Force for myself. This place demands guardians who can endure balance, and grow in it.” She hesitates, then adds quietly, “For the first time since the war, my faith felt…properly placed.” * MEETRA (small smile): “You sound at home.” JUHANI considers that, then inclines her head, slightly awkward, utterly sincere. * JUHANI (strong eyes): “Yes. I believe I am.” The wind moves through the steps, and the past settles again, simply understood between two people. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Mystery of Tython">><<replace "#TythonMystery">>The Mystery of Tython The light over the temple softens, turning stone pale gold. MEETRA sits with her hands resting loosely on her knees, watching the valley breathe - wind, leaves, distant movement in balance. After a moment, she speaks without looking away. * MEETRA: “What does Tython mean to you? Not as a sanctuary. As… a calling.” JUHANI shifts beside her, posture straightening as if answering a formal question. Then she hesitates, ears flicking slightly, and exhales. * JUHANI: “Tython is honest. Painfully so.” MEETRA turns her head, attentive. * JUHANI (continuing): “I spent much of my life fearing imbalance. My own, most of all. I believed control was the same as purity. That devotion alone could silence what frightened me.” Her claws curl briefly against the stone. “This world does not allow that lie.” She gestures to the valley. “Here, Ashla and Bogan are not enemies. They are conditions. Like heat and cold. Deny either, and the land responds.” MEETRA nods slowly, as JUHANI looked toward the mountains, where the Tho Yor sits nestled in the rocks. * JUHANI: “The Je’daii understood this. They did not seek to rise above the Force. They sought to remain within it. When I train here, I feel their absence…and their intent.” She looks down at her hands. “Tython forces me to confront myself every day. My anger. My devotion. My fear of failing those I protect.” A pause. “And it does not condemn me for any of it.” * MEETRA (gentle): “And being a Master?” JUHANI’s jaw firms, conviction settling in. * JUHANI: “Here, it is not about authority. It is responsibility. To hold balance when others cannot. To guide without imposing. To endure.” She meets MEETRA’s gaze, earnest and unguarded. “This is where I belong. Because I am still becoming, stepping into it..” * MEETRA (smiling faintly): “That sounds like purpose.” * JUHANI (inclining her head, wholly sincere): “Yes.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Padawans">><<replace "#JuhaniPadawans">>The Padawans The training grounds below the steps glow softly in the fading light. Padawans move in small groups now: quiet practice, murmured corrections, laughter quickly checked and contained. MEETRA watches them for a long moment. * MEETRA (to JUHANI): “You watch them like a guardian. What do you see when you look at them?” * JUHANI (shoulders straighten, reflexive): “Responsibility.” * MEETRA (smiling faintly): “Only that?” JUHANI hesitates, ears flicking back, then forward again. * JUHANI: “Potential,” she adds. “And risk.” She studies the Padawans with open intensity. “They are not burdened by the ruins of the old Order. That gives them freedom. It also means they lack…warning.” * MEETRA (nodding): “They don’t know how certainty can become a weapon.” * JUHANI: “Yes,” grateful for the phrasing. “They feel the Force as a relationship, not a doctrine. That is good. It is also fragile.” A pair of Padawans falter mid-form and correct themselves without prompting. The eyes of both Masters reflexively narrow in approval and a layer of pride. * JUHANI (continuing): “They listen, to each other. To the land. Tython teaches them balance before ambition can take root.” Her voice tightens with conviction. “That is worth protecting.” * MEETRA: “And you? What do they see when they look at you?” * JUHANI (stiffens, unprepared): “I…hope they see constancy. That devotion does not require blindness. That discipline can coexist with mercy.” She draws a slow breath. “I will not let them inherit my fear. Or my anger.” MEETRA regards her with quiet respect. * MEETRA: “They’re fortunate.” JUHANI glances at her, then back to the Padawans. * JUHANI: “Yes. I am, as well.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Revan">><<replace "#JuhaniRevan">>Revan As the sun begins to fall behind the rock formations, the wind dies down, almost as if it knows the question about to be asked. MEETRA breaks the silence gently. * MEETRA: “There’s one question I haven’t asked you yet.” JUHANI’s posture tightens, but attentively. She nods once. * MEETRA: “Where do you think Revan went?” JUHANI does not answer immediately. She looks out over the valley, ears angling back slightly as if listening to memory rather than sound. * JUHANI: “I believe he went where the Force grew thin,” she says at last. “Beyond the familiar currents. Beyond the places where the Jedi and the Sith have already left their scars.” * JUHANI (continuing): “He did not flee. Nor did he seek absolution. He moved with purpose…even when it frightened those who followed him.” She hesitates, choosing her words with care. “I think he sensed a greater imbalance. One that could not be confronted from within the Republic.” * MEETRA (softly): “The Unknown Regions.” * JUHANI (inclining her head): “Yes. Places where the Force does not behave. Where it resists being named.” She falls quiet for a beat, then adds more personally, “As for what I thought of him…it is complicated.” * MEETRA (faint smile): “That seems to be a pattern.” JUHANI exhales, almost amused. Memories long shelved in her are brought back to her conscious mind, the old feelings begin to open up again. * JUHANI: “Revan was dangerous. His certainty was his power. He saw paths others refused to acknowledge.” Her voice firms. “That kind of conviction saved worlds. It also broke them.” She turns to MEETRA. “But, he chose redemption when he could have chosen domination. That matters to me.” MEETRA nods, the weight of shared history passing between them. * JUHANI: “I did not always trust him,” she admits. “But I respected him. And I believe whatever he faced…he faced it willingly.” JUHANI’s voice lowers. “If Revan has not returned, I do not believe it is because he failed. It is because he is still standing where others cannot, somehow.” MEETRA lets that settle. Some questions, she realizes, are not meant to be answered - only understood.<</replace>><</link>> [[Explore the Tython Enclave->Tython1Explore1]]

TYTHON: Instability Without warning, tremors begin as whispers beneath the stone. Cups rattle in place. Leaves shiver on branches without wind. The ground shifts in a small, uncertain direct - the kind Tython offers often enough, that most barely notice. Then it happens again. Stronger. The stone walkway ripples underfoot, its form flexing, like something deep pressed upward. A lingering low tension threads the air. JOLEE stops mid-step. His staff strikes the ground once, reflexive. * JOLEE (muttering, brow furrowed): “...No. That’s wrong.” He starts looking out for his Padawans, for JUHANI, for the HEROES. The tremor swells, rolling outward in a widening pulse. Trees sway though the flawless, indifferent sky. He looks up, and notices it. No storm. Atmospheric pressure hasn’t changed. No warning in the few clouds in the sky. * JOLEE (grumbling): “No storm, the ground shakes…what’s going on here?” Another pulse hits. Stronger again. A third, the rolling increases. An uneven delay, then a fourth pulse. By the fifth, JOLEE has caught up with JUHANI, who stands with MEETRA and BAO-DUR. MEETRA has already figured it out before he reaches her. * MEETRA (nodding): “The Tho Yor,” she says, as a welcome and a statement. * JUHANI (eyes closed, hand pressed to the stone): “Yes. The rhythm is wrong.” * JOLEE (sharply): “Juhani - direct the Padawans. Balance drills. Full circle. Anchor the Enclave.” JUHANI nods once, already moving. Her layered voice cuts clean and calm through the rising tension as she gathers the students, guiding them into formation. T3-M4 trills and rolls toward her, settling into position near the Enclave’s core systems. * JOLEE (his head toward the trees): “You two - come on. I’ve got a good hunch about this.” They move fast. The path toward the Tho Yor trembles beneath their boots as they run. Each step forward deepens the sensation MEETRA feels in her chest - a thrum, slow and heavy, like a heartbeat too large for the body that contains it. <img src="Act1/Tython1Instability.png" class="png"> As the structure comes into view, the pulses become unmistakable. Low-frequency waves roll outward from the Tho Yor, the now-predictable pressure warping air and light alike. Grass bends in concentric rings. Stone distorts subtly, lines bending where none should. They stop a few meters away from the ancient structure; BAO-DUR takes it all in, awe and concern colliding. * BAO-DUR: “The emissions are rhythmic. Deliberate. It feels like standing next to a hyperspace engine that doesn’t know it’s turned on. MEETRA closes her eyes for an isolated sensing, and recognizes it clearly. * MEETRA: “This is the distortion, or an echo of it. Same shape. Weaker amplitude.” * JOLEE (eyes decisively widen): “I figured, but that explains it.” He grips his staff tighter. “The Tho Yor absorbed the galactic disturbance. Shielded the planet, for us.” Another pulse surges. The ground bucks hard enough to stagger them. * MEETRA: “And now it’s starting to weaken against the attack. Without the Tho Yor keeping the Distortion at bay, it’ll wreck the planet.” She stares intently up at the ancient structure, tracking the strain of the attack in the structure, and in the Force. “BAO - can you see where the source of the attack is hitting?” * BAO-DUR (considering): “It has to be coming from the spire, at the top. I can’t understand what it does, but it looks capable of harnessing directional energy. * JOLEE (looking at MEETRA sharply): “You’ve got an idea.” MEETRA nods, already feeling the shape of it form in her mind. * MEETRA (slowly): “It’s trying to correct,” she says slowly. “But it doesn’t know how to release what it’s holding. We have to act before the next pulse.” MEETRA steps forward, closes her eyes, and opens herself to the Tho Yor. She reaches the way one listens to something too large to answer back. The Tho Yor does not open to her. Its presence remains sealed, layered behind distances she cannot cross. But…something brushes her awareness all the same. Her face bends in soft confusion - an echo, a resonance sliding sideways through the For ce. With this echo, comes a sensation she knows too well. Her Wound opens within her; an inward collapse, a hollow pressure where the Force thins and folds in on itself. Instinct screams at her to close it, to wall it off the way she learned to survive. Her breath hitches. She pulls inward - * JOLEE (sharply): “Don’t.” He holds a hand out in warning. his presence firm and anchoring. “Whatever this is, closing yourself off is how you miss it.” MEETRA relents, breaths, and refocuses... <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Tython1Instability>>* <<link "Open MEETRA’s Force Wound to the Pulses">><<set $Tython1Instability = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> Her wound trembles, unstable, waiting. But she trusts JOLEE…so she exhales and lets go. She allows her absence to flow outward, slightly shaking in uncertainty. And then…the Tho Yor answers. Its pulse changes, and redirects. The pressure radiating outward now bends, curves, and begins to flow toward her. The air ripples, matching the low-frequency thrum pitch shifting. It feels like its…aligning with the hollow inside her. She feels the pulse come for her, but then unexpectedly narrow as it pours into…her chest. Into where she feels her Wound the deepest. MEETRA gasps and drops to her knees. JOLEE and BAO-DUR are there instantly, one hand gripping her shoulder, the other steadying her. She’s still here, and suddenly aware of everything, of the Force behaving in a way it never has before with her, of her Wound acting as a conduit, instead of a pained vengeance. As the moments pass, the pulses from the Tho Yor weaken, each one softer than the last, until finally the ground stills, and the flow into the wound stops. MEETRA breathes, deeply and steady, and pushes herself upright with her friend’s help. The hollowness inside her…it’s quiet now. Still. Dormant. What just happened? * BAO-DUR (softly): “I don’t understand what’s just happened.” JOLEE stares at the Tho Yor, eyes narrowed with awe. * JOLEE (voice rough): “I think I do. Or at least, I’ve got a theory -” Before he can say more, something impossible happens: the rounded door of the Tho Yor slides open without sound. Blinding light explodes outward from the ancient structure. MEETRA, JOLEE, and BAO-DUR shield their eyes, staggering back as the glow washes over them. The Force surges from the Tho Yor, churning within the offensive glow…eventually fading. When the Jedi’s senses recover and they’re able to perceive what’s in front of them, the Tho Yor’s door is closed again. However, instead of questioning why the sudden change in the unmoving structure, the Jedi’s eyes fixate on what hovers in the air, in front of MEETRA - a blue holocron, spinning slowly, patiently waiting. The three look at each other in wonder and confusion. <img src="Act1/Tython1InstabilityLight.jpeg" class="png"> * JOLEE (breathless laugh): “In all my years here…these structures never so much as blinked at me. And you walk up, and get a gift!” MEETRA gives a short smile in response. Taking JOLEE’s exclamation as a suggestion, she approaches it as if nearing an altar, touching the holocron. The unknown but familiar object unlocks with a soft chime, facets unfolding into light. A flickering image forms: a Cathar Je’daii, robed, bearing the calm authority of one who guards rather than rules. The recording wavers, skipping frames, voice layered with age and interference. * JE’DAII HOLOCRON: “Welcome. If you receive this…you stand before the Tho Yor not as master, but as listener. I am the Temple Master of this world.” The image falters. BAO-DUR leans closer, on instinct. * BAO-DUR: “Maybe, if I could reroute the projection matrix -” * JOLEE (waving him down): “Easy. Let it speak.” The holocron message continues, with the voice and image slowly destabilizing. * JE’DAII HOLOCRON: “The Tho Yor sing with the planet. Their harmony sustains balance. But know this - when the dark seeks dominion, it does not shatter the song. It corrupts it.” Static tears through the image, but it does not fail * JE’DAII HOLOCRON: “Remain vigilant. Guard the song. Guard yourselves. Balance is not permanent. It must be protected.” The holocron flickers once more…and fatally goes dark. Silence rushes back into the area, as the holocron gently falls into MEETRA’s hands. She stands holding the inert holocron, breath shallow, mind racing. JOLEE and BAO-DUR exchange a look, equal parts disbelief and dawning realization. * JOLEE (awed):* “That wasn’t just a relic.” He looks at MEETRA. “That was the first direct word we’ve ever had from the Je’daii. And whatever just flowed into you…”He shakes his head, wonder creeping into his voice. “...It might be our first clue to what these distortions are - and how to survive what’s coming.” MEETRA nods, fingers tightening around the holocron. BAO-DUR nods in recognition Before them, the Tho Yor stands silent once more, with some of its deep mystery scratched away to reveal something vitally inspiring and valuable to the rebuilding Jedi Order. [[Return to the Enclave->Tython1Explore2]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Don’t Risk MEETRA’s Force Wound with the Pulses">><<set $Tython1Instability = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> MEETRA’s breath shakes as she considers the power and threat of her Wound. The instinct to seal herself away claws at her, an old reflex. The Wound pulls inward, hungry and volatile, reacting to the Tho Yor’s pulse like exposed nerve to heat. It’s too much. I don’t have enough control of It in this environment. She takes a moment to close her absence. She needs to do this right. The next pulse hits - and breaks against her, ripping apart her concentration. MEETRA strains against it, reflexively pushing back. The attacking pulse seems to fracture, going in different directions. Its pressure snaps, dispersing into nothing. She anchors her feet, leans in, and now pushes hard against the low-frequency wave coming from the Tho Yor. She grunts, tenses, but pushes into it through the Force, her body carrying the weight. Each wave reaches her and collapses, shredded into silence. The Force around her warps sharply, bending away from the hollow she carries. She can feel the structure’s tension begin to drain. But it starts to become too much. MEETRA cries out and drops to one knee. JOLEE and BAO-DUR rush in, gripping her arms, holding her steady as she pushes harder against the resisting pulse. A break, finally - the pulse releases, fading quickly. MEETRA eyes go wide, searching for the changes around her. The Tho Yor shudders, its stones groaning reluctantly. She smiles, leaning more into her resistance, ready to be at an end with it. Unexpectedly for the present Jedi, the massive structure begins to sink, descending as it starts to relinquish its place, sliding several meters into the earth with grinding finality. The etched lines along its surface dim, some of them falling beneath the freshly disturbed dirt. The Jedi step back, MEETRA letting go of her efforts, but it’s too late. The air seems to lose its density as the Force falls quiet, holding an invisible space of emptiness. <img src="Act1/Tython1InstabilityDark.png" class="png"> The Tho Yor is quiet and still now, half sunken into Tython, inert. Whatever song it carried, has ended. BAO-DUR stares at the place where it stood, his arm scanner confirming what they perceive. * BAO-DUR: “All emissions ceased. No residual field. It’s…dormant.” JOLEE doesn’t answer right away. He looks at MEETRA, searching her face for signs of damage, of loss, of something worse. * JOLEE (quietly): “What did you do?” * MEETRA (swallowing): “I didn’t take anything from it. I broke the rhythm. The pulses couldn’t survive contact with the wound.” * JOLEE (exhales slowly): “You didn’t stabilize it.” * MEETRA (agreeing): “No, I shut it down.” They stand there, the enormity of it settling in. No light or response from the ancient marvel. No mysteries waiting to be unlocked. Just a presence of absence. JOLEE finally straightens, staff pressing into the soil as if testing reality. * JOLEE: “Then, that’s it. Whatever role it played…it’s finished.” MEETRA looks at the hollow in the ground, the quiet in the Force where something vast once stood. * MEETRA: “I think it chose that. Or accepted it.” * BAO-DUR (nodding slowly): “A failsafe.” * JOLEE (grimacing faintly): “One hell of a price.” They turn back toward the Enclave, leaving the sunken stone behind, the planet returning into balance…at the cost of one of its oldest voices, now silent. [[Return to the Enclave->Tython1Explore2]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

TYTHON: Enclave <img src="Act1/Tython1TempleArrivalReverse.png" class="png"> * [[Aftermath:->Tython1Aftermath]] Evaluate MEETRA's actions on the Tho Yor & its affect on Tython * [[Hidden:->Tython1Hidden]] Speak to Juhani about a secret. [[Leave Tython->Tython1TaggingAlong]]

TYTHON: Aftermath <img src="Act1/" class="png"> <<if $Tython1Instability is "Light">>The Tho Yor stands exactly as it did before - silent, immovable, ancient beyond any living memory. Its triangular mass cuts into the sky above Tython, dark stone etched with patterns that seem less like writing and more like intention. But the Force around it has changed. MEETRA feels the difference immediately. The currents of Ashla and Bogan that swirl around the structure still move in tension, light and dark folding through one another in careful balance. The rhythm is tighter now, as though the equilibrium has been drawn inward. The Tho Yor takes the power it channels, absorbing and redistributing it. She can still feel what the pulse from the Tho Yor felt like, how clearly it came from the Tho Yor. The structure itself remains motionless now, but in the Force it feels denser, like something inside it shifted. She reaches out carefully, cautiously in the Force, feeling its currents. They spiral inward through the monument before flowing outward again, carrying the memory of that disturbance across the landscape. It feels as though the Tho Yor is studying the shape of what the pulse was, measuring it against the balance of Tython. Beyond the structure, the planet carries on in its own way. The wind still moves through the tall grasses, storm clouds gather along the distant mountains, lightning flickers occasionally along the horizon before fading back into the sky. It feels like Tython is compensating. On this world, imbalance always brings reaction. Yet instead of chaos, the Force is redistributing the disturbance through its living equilibrium. The pulse has become another tension within the balance. MEETRA examines the Tho Yor one more time. She knows it felt the echo that struck the galaxy…but the mystery of Tython has already begun adapting to it.<<elseif $Tython1Instability is "Dark">>The Tho Yor remains partially visible in Tython’s mountain. Its withdrawal seems permanent, and that deeply worries MEETRA. The Force around it feels…uneasy. The layered currents of Ashla and Bogan still coil around it as they always have on this world. Light and dark meet here in careful tension, neither allowed to dominate. But the rhythm is unsettled now, like a breath that cannot fully steady itself. She remembers the pulse that tore through the monument - the crushing pressure, the echo of something vast reaching through the Force and touching every sensitive mind at once. She resisted it, holding her presence tightly closed instead of opening the wound within her. Now she feels the consequence of that choice. In the Force she feels the Tho Yor almost searching. The currents around it spiral outward in slow patterns that stretch further across the valley before returning again, as though the ancient structure is trying to trace the fading memory of that disturbance…but the signal is incomplete. There’s scattered resonance now, fragments of something that passed through the galaxy, too quickly to be understood. Beyond the monument, Tython reflects the same uncertainty. Wind shifts direction more often than usual, clouds gather along the mountain ridges and disperse again without forming storms, lightning flickers occasionally along the horizon. The planet feels more cautious now. The world senses that something enormous in the Force touched it, but it wasn’t clear enough to understand its shape. MEETRA studies the Tho Yor again. The half-buried ancient structure listens to the Force, waiting. Whatever struck the galaxy has left Tython and her with more questions than answers.<</if>> [[Return to the Enclave->Tython1Explore2]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

TYTHON: Tagging Along The HEROES follow the path away from the Enclave, winding gently through stone and tall grass, the light of Tython stretching long as evening settles in. The world feels quieter but more alive now, after the events experienced in the last few days. The trees part, and the EBON HAWK faithfully comes into view, resting on the landing platform like a patient predator waiting to move. And beside it, leaning casually against the hull, arms folded, staff resting at his side, stands JOLEE BINDO. <img src="Act1/Tython1TaggingAlong.png" class="png"> * JOLEE: “Well,” he says as they approach, pushing off the hull with an easy grin, “I figured it’d be rude not to see you off. Tython’s funny about unfinished conversations.” * MIRA (scoffing): “You always wait like that? Like you knew we’d be here.” * JOLEE (chuckling): “Experience.” His expression sobers, as he turns to MEETRA. * JOLEE (continuing): “Truth is, I’ve been thinking. Whatever caused those Distortions out there - it’s not an accident. Feels like a probe. A pressure test. Something bigger pushing its way into the galaxy.” He pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. “And then there’s you.” MEETRA meets his gaze, questioning what he means. * JOLEE: “That wound of yours,” voice quieter now, more curious than cautious, “it didn’t behave the way the Force says it should. Tython taught me a lot about balance - and what you did out there? That’s something else entirely. I’d like to understand it. And you. Before the galaxy decides to make both of you a problem.” He clears his throat, the grin returning. “So. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me tagging along for a bit.” * MEETRA (without hesitation): “I’d be honored.” * JOLEE (genuine smile): “Good. One condition, though.” He taps his staff against the ramp. “I’m not staying in the medical bay. Last time I did that, it was freezing and something kept poking me.” * ATTON (snorting): “Wow. A Jedi Master with demands. Should I be intimidated or relieved?” * JOLEE: “Both. Keeps things balanced!” The ramp lowers with a hiss. One by one, they board. JOLEE pauses at the threshold, casting a final glance back at Tython, the Enclave, the calm sky…the balance holding firm. * JOLEE: “Behave yourself,” he murmurs to the planet. The ramp seals. Engines ignite. Moments later, the EBON HAWK lifts smoothly from the platform, climbing into clear sky. Once released from the planet’s atmosphere, the ship vanishes into hyperspace. Tython watches them go, silent and steady, as the galaxy calls them back into motion once more. <<set $Tython1 to "unlocked">> [[Searching for Distortions->EbonHawk1.2]]

TYTHON: Hidden MEETRA walks slowly through the Enclave corridor, letting the calm of the building settle around her. Stone corridors carry the distant rhythm of training sabers, soft conversation, and the whisper of wind through open archways. Sunlight spills across the polished floors in long golden bands, giving the place a warmth that feels earned rather than grand. She turns a corner and finds JUHANI standing near an open terrace, watching a group of Padawans practicing below. The Cathar Jedi’s posture is relaxed, hands folded behind her back, the Force around her steady as bedrock. JUHANI senses her approach and glances over her shoulder. <img src="Act1/Tython1Hidden.png" class="png"> * JUHANI (warmly): “MEETRA. It is good to see you walking these halls again.” MEETRA nods, the faintest smile touching her expression. * MEETRA: “It’s good to be back.” They stand together for a moment in comfortable silence, listening to the quiet life of the Enclave. Then, MEETRA’s tone shifts * MEETRA (subtle, careful): “Is it still safe?” JUHANI’s ears twitch slightly at the wording. * JUHANI (calmly, hushed): “Yes. It remains safe. And…is doing well.” MEETRA exhales slowly. Relief moves through her chest. Her eyes scan the courtyard again. * MEETRA: “I didn’t sense it here.” she says after a moment. “Has it left?” JUHANI turns toward the distant horizon beyond the Enclave walls. * JUHANI: “It is on a journey. A controlled one, from what we read of the ancient Je’daii. Intended to strengthen it.” MEETRA understands immediately. She nods once, accepting the answer without another question. * MEETRA (softly): “Good. Thank you.” JUHANI inclines her head, as MEETRA turns and walks toward the exit of the Enclave, the quiet knowledge settling comfortably in her thoughts, as she steps back out into the living breath of Tython. [[Return to the Enclave->Tython1Explore2]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

EBON HAWK: Searching for Distortions <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1HeroesMap.png" class="png"> * [[Tython:->Tython1]] Re-experience what balance in the Force is, and evaluate effects of the Distortions. HEROES and Allies MEETRA and... * [[ATTON->Atton1]] * [[T3-M4->T3M41]] * [[BAO-DUR->BaoDur1]] * [[MIRA->Mira1]] * [[BASTILA->Bastila1]] * [[CARTH->Carth1]] [[Review Galactic history->Datapad]]

MANAAN <img src="Act1/Manaan1Arrival.jpeg" class="png"> The EBON HAWK slips out of hyperspace into a field of deep blue, so vast it feels unreal. Continents are absent below, landmass are conspicuously gone - only ocean, stretching endlessly beneath a pale sun. Light ripples across the surface like polished glass, disturbed only by slow-moving currents far below. * ATTON: “Wow,” muttering from the pilot’s chair. “No land, no storms, no explosions. I already don’t trust it.” * MEETRA: “This is Ahto City,” she says, standing just behind him, hands resting lightly on the back of his chair. “The Selkath designed it that way. Order. Control. Neutrality enforced by necessity.” * ATTON (glancing back at her): “Right. Because nothing says ‘peaceful’ like a planet that quietly threatens the entire galaxy with a kolto embargo.” A faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes stay on the planet. Beneath the calm, she feels the global tension on the surface; the Force here is restrained, muted, pressed flat by generations of law and tradition. It does not welcome probing, and only tolerates presence for its own benefit. She gestures toward a secondary display, pulling up archived notes layered over the HAWK’s approach vector. * MEETRA: “BASTILA and CARTH passed through here during the Jedi Civil War. When they were tracking Star Maps with Revan.” * ATTON (leaning closer to the screen): “That’s a fun sentence. ‘Casual trip to a neutral ocean world while chasing ancient galaxy-shaping artifacts with a brainwashed Sith legend.’” * MEETRA: “They weren’t looking for trouble here, but they noted…irregularities. Subtle perceived fluctuations in the Force, that didn’t line up with politics or the war.” Her expression tightens. “At the time, BASTILA dismissed them as background noise. I don’t think she was wrong…but if it was happening then, they were very early.” ATTON exhales softly, fingers tightening on the controls as Ahto City rises into view - clean lines and translucent platforms emerging from the sea like a crown set gently upon water. * ATTON: “So you’re thinking whatever’s distorting things now…left something here first.” * MEETRA: “I think a planet like this could have some benign record of it. And with the way I’ve heard Ahto City runs itself, this would be a good place to practice.” The Ossus Keeper <img src="Act1/Manaan1HangarEbonHawk.png" class="png"> The HAWK banks and descends, guided into a docking lane to one of the west hangars. Shortly after, the ship’s ramp lowers, the watchful city’s salt-rich air flooding in, as the HEROES depart their ship. Waiting at the edge of the platform is a familiar figure in understated Jedi robes, posture open, expression calm and intent. He straightens as they approach, expression composed, posture formal - every bit the public-facing Jedi he has become. <img src="Act1/Manaan1OssusKeeper.png" class="png"> * MICAL: “MASTER SURIK,” he says clearly, inclining his head. “On behalf of the provisional Jedi outreach effort, welcome to Manaan. Your presence here is greatly appreciated.” * ATTON (blinking): “Wow. I leave the galaxy for a bit and you start sounding like a holonet briefing.” MICAL’s composure holds for exactly half a second before it softens. * MICAL: “Old habits die hard. New ones form faster than I expected, I’m afraid.” His gaze shifts to ATTON, warmer now. “It’s good to see you. Truly.” He turns to BAO-DUR, his tone more precise. “ BAO-DUR, it is good to see you again. Your postwar reconstruction work continues to be referenced in Republic and Jedi records alike. Your work has kept hope alive in desolate places.” * BAO-DUR (bowing his head slightly): “I’m glad it helped.” * MICAL (looking toward MIRA): “It is good to see your companionship continues as well, MIRA.” MIRA’s gaze flashes to MICAL quickly, before moving back to looking away. MICAL reads her stance and silence, and chooses not to engage her discomfort further. He instead looks down as T3-M4 chirps again, who extends a tool his direction. The formality breaks entirely for a moment as MICAL crouches just enough to tap the droid’s casing. * MICAL: “T3, your data drops have been invaluable. You’re overdue for an in-person acknowledgement.” T3 whistles approvingly. MICAL rises, and his eyes land on JOLEE, engaging a reverant pause. * MICAL (carefully): “MASTER JOLEE BINDO, your name appears in Jedi archives with an…unusual frequency. Often accompanied by margin notes.” * JOLEE (groaning): “Let me guess. ‘Noncompliant.’ ‘Philosophically hazardous.’ ‘Do not encourage.’” * MICAL: “…Yes,” he admits. “Among others.” * JOLEE (waving a hand dismissively): “I warned them. They kept asking questions they didn’t want answers to.” MICAL inclines his head again, formal now, curiosity contained but unmistakable. * MICAL: “Regardless of reputation, you are welcome here. Your experience, outside the Order, may be exactly what some of us need.” * JOLEE (squinting at him): “You rehearse that, or does it come naturally?” * MICAL: “A little of both,” he says honestly. Once the moment settles, MICAL inclines his head once more, formality returning. * MICAL: “If you’ll follow me, Ahto City has granted us limited access.” He turns, already walking, and the HEROES fall in beside him, boots echoing softly as the platform’s walkway carries them forward, out over the endless sea and into the city’s calm, watchful heart. <<set $Manaan1Explore to "Unlocked">> <<set $activeCharacters = ["MEETRA", "T3-M4", "ATTON", "BAO-DUR", "MIRA", "JOLEE"]>> [[Explore Ahto City->Manaan1Explore]]

REVAN - Contact <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> The PHANTOM rides the outskirts of the Spar Trade Route. folded into traffic noise and gravitational drift. Cargo convoys pass at regulated intervals, their transponders loud and predictable. REVAN keeps his dark between them, letting mass and motion hide him where navicomputers stop looking. His fractal radio stirs. REVAN knows it before the system finishes resolving the packet. NARESHA, his oldest and most loyal soldier, from before his redemption. All these years she’s been faithfully and reliably sharing information dumps, needing no validation of their recovery. Her encrypted compression is tight, elegant - data folded into itself, layered with redundancy only she ever used. She shares data on the Force disturbance telemetry, harmonic variances, response curves pulled from systems light-years apart. He reads in silence, the glow of the console painting hard lines across his face. The data confirms what he already feels in his bones: this was not an attack, it was a cast net. Something reached across the galaxy and listened to what answered back. His hand hovers over the communication, a physical struggle manifesting in him. Ten years of absence compress into that space between motion and restraint. Ten years of discipline, quiet enough that even the Force forgets to announce him. If he responds now…it is over. One response would end that silence, and would ripple outward, however faint. REVAN exhales, slow and measured…and sends a single confirmation pulse. Just enough to say received. The first word he has spoken to the Known Galaxy in a decade. Hours passed since his confirmation. Stars slide by, indifferent. He wants to believe it won’t matter, so that he can take the moment back. But then, the fractal radio stirs again. This time, the message is almost nothing. What time are you? Something in his chest loosens, enough to crack the faintest smile on his weathered face. She wouldn’t ask a question like this, and expect a temporal answer. He answers without hesitation. The eclipse. The answer carries weight only the two of them understand. The right answer isn’t light or dark, it’s the place where both exist at once. The loosening in his chest begins to warm - he casts it back into the deep of his soul…familiarity is a poison he cannot afford. A stretched hour later, the reply comes, bare and unmistakable. L16QC He knows what she’s asking for - a rendezvous, line-of-sight confirmation. Proof that this isn’t an echo, or a clever imitation wearing his cadence. NARESHA never gambles on faith alone. Loyalty doesn’t make her careless. He turns his gaze back to the viewport, watching the trade route curve away into ordered distance. Too many eyes. Too many instruments. Whatever cast that disturbance is still listening…and he will not reveal himself to confirm what patience will soon prove anyway. Not yet. He needs more certainty. More silence. He cannot afford to grant confirmations…but he needs more data. The questions are too sharp, too conditional, too dangerous to trust to dead drops and asymmetrical data. Answers that must push back. That require a living response on the other end. [[Confirm REVAN's contact with NARESHA->Revan1NareshaConfirm]]

REVAN: Center The Self <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> The stars stretch in hyperspace, creating the illusion of peace as the PHANTOM flies through the Unknown regions, heading to Known Space. REVAN allows an unexpected long-held breath to release. He feels the old weight, the pressure returning, subtle and invasive, like fingers testing old scars. He will not wait for it to deepen, or threaten to overtake him. REVAN sits cross-legged within the quiet of his ship, armor loosened, hands resting open on his knees. His eyes close. His breath slows, allowing without resistance. In, out. Each breath measured, counted, released. He lets the galaxy move without him for a moment. This meditation is survival, and he must hold to its discipline. He begins where he always does: with the body. He pushes inward, hitting the tensions in muscle. Old injuries that never truly healed. The anxiety of damaged nerves. The subtle ache where the Force once tore him open and never fully withdrew. He acknowledges each sensation, then loosens his grip on it, as if unhooking barbs embedded long ago. He lets thought arise, and pass. When the mind settles, he reaches outward into the Force, indirectly, like sliding fingers through water without disturbing the surface. No flare. no command, just presence. He follows small currents…the quiet threads of motion between stars, the soft gravitational murmurs of living systems unaware they are being felt. This is how he avoids notice. This is how he survives. He imagines himself as stillness within movement, a hollow in the current rather than a stone against it. The Force flows around him, not through him. He’s there, passive and unannounced. Only here, does he anchor himself. Dantooine comes first. The ancient grove, stones worn smooth by centuries of contemplation. Tall grass bending in a warm wind. The feeling of balance that once came so easily it frightened him. He remembers standing there, young and unbroken, learning that power begins with restraint. He didn’t understand in that time, but he takes none of these old lessons for granted anymore. The image fades into Chandrilla’s seas - vast, calm blue stretching beyond the horizon. Gentle waves. Open sky. The sense of order without rigidity. Civilization without cruelty. He breathes with the tide, letting its rhythm steady the fractures inside him. Cold replaces warmth, as Ilum’s crystal caves rise around him in memory, walls of ice and light refracting inward forever. Silence so pure it cuts. He remembers the clarity there, the way the cold stripped everything unnecessary away, leaving only truth and intent. No lies survive Ilum. The cold moves into the dry heat of Jedha, dust and stone. Pilgrims moving slowly through heat and prayer. Faith worn smooth by centuries of suffering and endurance. He remembers walking those paths as a seeker, before they called him conqueror or savior. A reminder that belief can exist without domination. That reverence does not require certainty. The memory of these places align him. With each breath, he clears what does not belong. The hooks, the whispers that are not his, the invasive pressure of the T’Sisaarai, subtle and patient, probing for weakness. He doesn’t fight them directly, that would strengthen their grip. Instead, he empties the spaces they would occupy, leaving nothing to seize. Like a Baran Do Sage clearing of mind and self, he lets the false dissolve. Anger. Fear. Pride. Acknowledged as it rises, then released. And beneath that clearing, memories surface. Not the ones they gave back to him. Not the carefully arranged fragments the Jedi allowed him to remember. Older. He body always remembers before his mind does…stances learned too young, reflexes formed in violence he does not yet see. Faces without names. A sense of command that predates the Jedi. These memories rise like knots beneath the skin, and he works them patiently, turning them, loosening them, refusing to let them seize control. They are his, but they don’t own him. Time passes - or sometimes doesn’t. The currents eventually stabilize, easing the always-present pressure. For those brief moments, REVAN exists in balance: alert, aware, sovereign in himself and the Force He opens his eyes, the galaxy rushes back in, and it starts again. The Dark Side presses at the edges of his perception, old habits stirring like predators scenting blood. The memories settle heavier now, weighted with implication. His body aches, damage flaring where meditation cannot fully reach. And beneath it all, the shroud returns…the distant, gnawing presence of the T’Sisaarai, never gone, only held at bay. REVAN exhales slowly, controlled. He meets the attacks with resolute rejection. The calm he forged moments ago can’t erase the struggle, but it gives him the right leverage. He braces against the pressure, pushing back with the quiet strength of balance rather than force. He holds the line, knowing it will need to be held again…and again…and again. Discipline doesn’t guarantee victory. But victory cannot exist without discipline. And as the ship continues deeper into the Known Galaxy, REVAN remains seated, breathing, centered - treading a narrow path between collapse and control, knowing that peace, for him, is never permanent…only practiced. <<back "Go back">>

REVAN - Confirm <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> Halfway to the south of the Great Gran Run, the PHANTOM peels out of hyperspace, its wake extinguished before re-entry. The transition is muted, bent inward by the ship’s systems until even subspace barely notices the change. The invaluable camofield engaged, the vessel’s silhouette dissolves into sensor-static and reflected light, mimicking background debris and maintenance traffic. To the station’s instruments, he is nothing worth flagging. Petabys Station looms ahead, a swollen knot of commerce hanging in space. A place built to disappear things - signals drowned in traffic, identities softened in noise. Thousands of transponders shout their presence, overlapping into a constant roar of data. The PHANTOM slips between them, letting the station’s own systems mask his approach. REVAN anchors the ship in a recessed maintenance shadow, one of countless forgotten corners never meant to hold attention for long. He begins to interface with the station’s communications backend, taking every action slowly and carefully, refusing any risk of being noticed or tracked. His efforts are rewarded with success; routing through redundant nodes, piggybacking on relay logic designed decades ago and never questioned since. REVAN feels the flow of it like a cold current under ice. When the link stabilizes, he takes another careful breath, and sends a single fractal pulse out to her. Her return comes faster than he expects…confirmation. He doesn’t wait; he opens an audio-only simu-tunnel, narrow-band and deliberately imperfect - audio, no metadata, nothing that could be replayed and studied later. Two-way. Real-time. Dangerous. He holds his breath as the seconds pass. Then more. The weight of growing caution forces him to move into controlled breaths. Finally…her voice enters the channel, controlled through the distortion, but unmistakably alive. * NARESHA: “What path are you on?” The voice hits harder than any attack. After years of ghosts, echoes, and silence shaped into weapons, the simple fact of speaking to someone - alive, steady, known, and an ally - nearly unbalance him…before instinct and discipline clamp down again. REVAN closes his eyes for half a second, centering himself in the hum of the station, the Phantom, the Force pressed thin around him. He answers without embellishment. * REVAN: “The one that follows the horizon.” Empty silence. Did I answer correctly this time? Am I truly speaking to NARESHA? He closes his eyes, fighting for composure and control. He fights for calm, for steadiness…and then her voice comes back. * NARESHA: “Welcome back from the unknown…REVAN.” Something inside him settles as opens his eyes again, quiet and profound. Not safety, never that…but recognition, earned and returned, and with it - the unspoken understanding that the questions may now begin, threaded through Petabys Station’s background noise, power fluctuations, dock chatter…a thousand voices masking two. [[Ask NARESHA Questions->Revan1NareshaIntel]]

REVAN: Naresha Intel <img src="Act1/???.png" class="png"> Something inside REVAN settles as opens his eyes again, quiet and profound...the unspoken understanding that the questions may now begin, threaded through Petabys Station’s background noise, power fluctuations, dock chatter…a thousand voices masking two. <<link "-Sith Movements, Distortions">><<replace "#Sith">>Sith Movements, Distortions * REVAN: “Describe the wake.” * NARESHA: “Galaxy-wide. Uneven. Force-sensitive systems spike first. Minds second. Old wounds reopen. Some collapse. Some listen.” REVAN’s jaw tightens. He already knows the shape of it. Hearing it confirmed sharpens the edge. * NARESHA (continuing): “Not destructive. Probing. Aftershocks linger. Like pressure after a deep dive.” * REVAN: “And the enemy?” A faint distortion rides her breath, containing disdain. * NARESHA: “Remnants only. Survivors and leftovers. No coordination. No vision. Petty strikes. Looting temples. Killing civilians to feel important. Street-level threats wearing old masks.” He reflects shortly on this slightly unexpected information. Names like Sith Assassin and Dark Acolyte had bent the galaxy around them. Now they are reduced to small noise - dangerous, but absent a source it seems. * REVAN (exhaling): “The hand behind them?” * NARESHA: “Still present. In dismissed reports. In patterns no one wants to chart.” Her voice lowers, sharpened. “They haven’t moved openly. But they’re close. I stake my life on it.” He believes her without question. She has already done exactly that, more than once. He feels the old reflex to retreat, to fold back into shadow, but now he has to resist it. * NARESHA (quiet, almost personal): “It’s…good you’re speaking again. After all this time.” The admission is brief, dangerous. His gaze steadies on the flowing data visual that pretends this is just another transaction. * REVAN: “I shall not stay hidden forever. Our time is at hand soon.” No promise of safety. No reassurance. Just truth. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "-The Republic">><<replace "#Republic">>The Republic REVAN keeps his voice low and measured, keeping his care accurately placed. He doesn’t trust this connection enough to lift the coded language to her. * REVAN: “The spine. Does it still hold?” A brief pause. She sorts signal from meaning. * NARESHA: “It stands. Scarred. Reinforced in places. Cracked in others.” His eyes unfocus as he listens, tracking starfields that aren’t really there. He remembers a Senate chamber full of fear and relief masquerading as hope. * NARESHA (continuing): “After the Civil War, the damage became deep. But systems still answer calls. Fleets deploy when ordered. Supplies arrive, eventually. Rebuilding is real. Just…slow.” Too slow. Peace always rebuilds at half the speed of war. * REVAN: “And the navy?” * NARESHA: “Functional. Thin. Held together by stubborn people.” Her meaning is clear: personalities matter more than doctrine right now. His words shift to a question he can’t help ask, before he weighs whether to ask it. * REVAN: “Onasi.” The name carries…history…regret…respect. * NARESHA (hesitating): “Still standing.” That alone tells him more than a report would. “Maverick now. Pushes readiness harder than the Senate likes. But results speak. He’s on good terms with their leader. They don’t always agree, but they trust each other.” He exhales slowly. That matters. More than he wants it to. * REVAN: “And the state?” Silence stretches, deliberately. * NARESHA: “I don’t trust it. It’s holding because nothing has tested it yet. The fractures are still there, in all of it.” She lets the implication settle. “It still can’t survive a real war. Not the kind they would bring.” His expression doesn’t change, but something hardens behind his eyes. He has walked the ruins of stronger governments than this one. * REVAN: “I agree.” The Republic may endure storms born of exhaustion and fear - but not what waits beyond the horizon. This assumed peace is borrowed time. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "-The Jedi">><<replace "#Jedi">>The Jedi * REVAN: “The Order.” * NARESHA: “Nearly gone. The Dark Wars. Then the Triumvirate. They finished what Malak tried to do.” REVAN’s eyes lower. Names that never reached records echo in his thoughts. * NARESHA (continuing): “But not extinct.” His eyes raise again…that matters. Hope was not extinguished. * NARESHA: “They’re growing again. Quietly. I don’t have numbers. Small groups. Isolated actions. Defending worlds. Disrupting cults. Ending threats before anyone notices.” REVAN’s fingers curl slightly at his side. * REVAN: “Under whose authority?” * NARESHA: “From what I can see…their own. No central temple. No visible council.” A hesitant, but prideful beat. Maybe they have learned the lessons of history. Hidden. Learning from pain. * NARESHA (tone sharpening): “But it’s not enough. These acts aren’t enough.” She allows a pregnant pause. “I don’t think he’s the whole picture.” His gaze lifts, attentive. Does the hidden hope go deeper? * NARESHA: “These Jedi learned from the Triumvirate. Visibility invites annihilation. So they stay small, mobile. Allowing sensors and records to forget them.” Another pause, edged with disapproval. “They let the galaxy remember the idea of Jedi…without knowing where to find them.” He considers that. It’s dangerous, but smart, wise. Something with logic but unexpected. * REVAN: “You don’t approve.” * NARESHA: “No.” Simple. Honest. * REVAN: “Who leads them?” * NARESHA: “Someone named Mical. Bastila is their ambassador. A few others…names that surface, but never stay.” REVAN stills. The name lands hard, as he expected, but it’s still heavy. Old memories stir - resolve braided with regret. He does not let it reach his voice, to NARESHA. * REVAN: “The old Masters…” A longer silence this time. * NARESHA: “I haven’t heard of any for years.” Her voice softens, just slightly. “I didn’t know the Order well back then. Only you. And the ones who shaped the war.” REVAN inclines his head once, unseen. The Jedi survive…not as they were. Not as they believed they should be. Hidden and fragmented, though not as flawed as the remnant Sith it seems. Learning to exist in the shadow of extinction. He closes his eyes briefly, absorbing the truth of it. He may be returning to a galaxy that hasn’t lost the Jedi…but has changed what being a Jedi means. And that may be a necessary reality when the war finally comes… <</replace>><</link>> <<link "-Meetra">><<replace "#MEETRA">>Meetra REVAN reflects on the cadence of NARESHA’s words, to what she has said…and to what she hasn’t. * REVAN: “You haven’t mentioned the General yet.” * NARESHA: “I was waiting.” * REVAN (tightly): “Tell me.” * NARESHA (measured, precise): “She ended the Dark Wars. And after…whispers said she searched for you.” The words land softly, heavier than they should. “Years of it. I never intervened - I wasn’t instructed to, and saw no advantage.” REVAN doesn’t respond. For a moment, he wonders - briefly - whether her joining him would have changed anything. The thought passes as quickly as it comes. * REVAN: “Your assumption was correct. Did she find anything of me, or the enemy?” * NARESHA: “Her movements were inconsistent in the Unknown Regions. She eventually pulled back into the Known Galaxy…roughly two years ago” She resisted the obsession? Or was turned away by something? What did she see? * NARESHA (pausing, examining reports): “She watches the Republic, keeps tabs on her companions. She is connected to the new Jedi, but at a distance.” He can picture it too easily. It raises suspicions within him of what these new Jedi really are. * NARESHA: “She seems to hold no desire to belong. But she intervenes, stays longer than the others. Leaves things…better.” Helping, but on her terms. True to her core. * REVAN: “She still flies my ship?” A fraction of warmth enters NARESHA’s voice. * NARESHA: “The Ebon Hawk. Yes. And your droid. T3-M4 is with her.” The corner of REVAN’s mouth lifts…barely, but unmistakably. Something light pierces through years of restraint. NARESHA speaks again, quieter. Personal. * NARESHA: “...Why does she matter to you? She’s inconsistent, devoted to smaller things, aimless. Unfocused on the larger threat she has to know about.” Her question is careful, but it’s still a question. REVAN’s expression settles, thoughtful rather than defensive. * REVAN: “Not all leaders move as we do.” He chooses the words with intent. “That doesn’t lessen their value.” Silence stretches as he finds words. “She is…different.” He searches himself, beyond his fractured memories, for understanding. * REVAN: “Even without my full recollection of the first war, I see how she moves in the Force. She listens where others impose. She endures where others consume.” The PHANTOM’s systems hum slightly louder around him, as a quiet certainty settles into his voice. * REVAN: “Meetra Surik is meant for something that hasn’t arrived yet. Some destinies do not announce themselves.”<</replace>><</link>> <<set $Revan1NareshaIntel to "unlocked">> [[End Transmission->Revan1TravelToKnownSpace]]

MANAAN: Ahto City <img src="Act1/Manaan1Explore.png" class="png"> * [[Mical:->Manaan1Mical]] Speak to MICAL about his efforts. * [[Debriefing:->Manaan1Debrief]] Read BASTILA's debrief on her visit to Manaan in the Jedi Civil War. * <<if !$Manaan1Kolto>>[[Kolto Decline:->Manaan1Kolto]] Investigate what is slowing down the supply of Kolto in the Hrakert Rift.<<elseif $Manaan1Kolto is "RefuseInvestigation">>Kolto Decline: MEETRA refuses to investigate the issue.<<elseif $Manaan1Kolto is "KoltoSaved">>Kolto Decline: The Rift is closed, but the Ahto City Council has approved a Jedi Enclave.<</if>> * <<if $Manaan1Kolto and !$Manaan1Isolationists>>[[Isolationists:->Manaan1LocalUnrest]] Confront Selkath zealots against the Jedi's prescense.<<elseif $Manaan1IsoHelpMical is "Dark">>Isolationists: MEETRA refuses to help with the Selkath zealots.<<elseif $Manaan1Isolationists is "Light">>Isolationists: The Ahto City Council agrees to the JEDI's enclave with oversight.<<elseif $Manaan1Isolationists is "Dark">>Isolationists: The Ahto City Council agrees to the JEDI's enclave.<</if>> * <<if $Manaan1Kolto and !$Manaan1ForceSen>>[[Selkath Force Sensitives:->Manaan1ForceSen]] Observe the discovery of the lost Selkath.<<elseif $Manaan1ForceSen is "Light">>Selkath Force Sensitives: MEETRA convinces the Council to let the JEDI work with Shasa and her friends.<<elseif $Manaan1ForceSen is "Dark">>Selkath Force Sensitives: MEETRA convinces SHASA to share new visions and warnings directly to her.<</if>> <<set $Manaan1Explore to "unlocked">> <<if $Manaan1Kolto and $Manaan1Isolationists and $Manaan1ForceSen>>[[Leave Manaan->Manaan1Quarantine]]<<else>>[[Leave Ahto City->EbonHawk1.2]]<</if>>

MANAAN: Mical <img src="Act1/Manaan1Mical.png" class="png"> The HEROES begin to disperse, as MICAL’s tour of Ahto City ends. ATTON is already halfway down the causeway, rolling his shoulders like a pilot itching for familiar problems, while MIRA matches his pace, eyes sharp, mind already back inside the EBON HAWK’s cramped corridors and half-finished calibrations. BAO-DUR lingers for another respective moment before angling his scanners toward the horizon, turning away on a sensor hunt. JOLEE mutters something about getting finding some real food as he saunters off. MEETRA and MICAL watch them separate, each pulled by instinct and duty. As MICAL gathers his datapads, MEETRA notices his progression from how she originally met him…older now, calmer. The aura around him feels measured, like a held breath that never quite releases. Seeing him stirs memories she hasn’t sorted yet…lessons half-finished, conversations interrupted by war. * MEETRA (to MICAL): “Walk with me.” * MICAL (smiling): “Certainly.” They move through Ahto’s streets side by side, the city unfolding in layered walkways and gentle light. Selkath glide past, unreadable, their voices a constant murmur beneath the city’s song. The sun hangs low over the city now, its light refracted into long, wavering bands beneath the surface of the sea. From the overlooking balcony the ocean looks impossibly calm, blue layered upon blue, endless and unbroken. The pull of the Force in this place feels like clear-cut glass under pressure. * MICAL (speaking softly): “We never really had time, after the war.” * MEETRA (nodding): “I know. And in a place like this, it seemed right to take a moment to talk with you. To see how you’re doing.” <<link "-Restarting the Jedi Order">><<replace "#JediRestart">>Restarting the Jedi Order * MICAL (thoughtful): “I realize this city wasn’t built for Jedi. And I believe that may be why it’s perfect.” * MEETRA (resting her hands on the railing): “Their Council won’t see it that way.” MICAL turns around, sharing her ocean view. He follows her gaze into the water below, watching shadows of passing fish ripple like living constellations. * MICAL: “They won’t, not at first.” This is how he always speaks…with his faith. It unsettles her more than confidence ever could. * MEETRA: “You’ve been chasing this idea across half the galaxy. Dantooine. Alderann. Coruscant’s Temple. Now Manaan.” Her jaw tightens. “And you still don’t have a single place to point to and say: Here - this is where the Jedi stand.” * MICAL (smiling faintly, unoffended): “No, I don’t.” He turns to face her fully now, earnest eyes steady. “But I have felt them. Moments, pockets of stillness where the Force gathers, without being asked or suggested. Places where people slow down, and choose to listen, to heal.” He gestures gently toward the city. “If the Jedi are to return, they can’t arrive like conquerors reclaiming ruins. They have to grow into the galaxy again. Root themselves in it.” MEETRA looks at him again. There he is - the core of him, beyond the historian. Not the analyst. The believer. * MEETRA (quietly): “...And what if the galaxy doesn’t want us?” Old scars fill the space between her words. MICAL doesn’t answer immediately. He studies her expression, sees the resistance she doesn’t bother hiding. He’s always seen it. * MICAL: “Then we listen. And we adapt. That was the mistake before - believing the Order existed apart from the galaxy. Above it.” His voice firms, just slightly. “We barely survived paying the cost of that belief.” The sea shifts below them, light breaking into fractured patterns. MEETRA feels her Wound stir in the back of her chest, uninvited. She wonders what that means. * MEETRA: “You’re asking the Selkath Council to let the Jedi back in, here. No protection or arbitration offered. Just…present.” A pause. “They remember what the Jedi brought to the galaxy.” * MICAL (gently): “And so do you.” That landed harder than she expected. He steps closer, lowering his voice. * MICAL: “I don’t need you to lead them into agreement. I only need you to speak honestly. To show them that the Jedi aren’t returning as an institution, but as individuals willing to listen, to learn.” He hesitates, then adds, “I need you because, they’ll believe you.” MEETRA looks away again, down into the endless blue. Belief. That word again. * MEETRA: “I’m tired of being the proof. I’m worried that it doesn’t seem to come from anywhere else. Tired of people deciding the future based on whether I survived the past.” * MICAL (watching carefully): “You’re afraid.” He’s not accusing, just observing. * MEETRA (stiff): “I’m cautious.” * MICAL (smiling softly): “You’ve earned caution. But fear?” He shakes his head. “Fear would have kept you in exile.” Silence stretches between them, filled only by the distant hum of the city and the rhythmic whisper of the sea. * MEETRA: “You think I won’t repeat their mistakes,” she says at last. It’s not a question. * MICAL (slowly): “I think, that you are the only Jedi alive who knows exactly how easy it is to become the wrong thing - and chooses, every day, not to.” He meets her eyes. “That’s not weakness, MEETRA. That’s wisdom the old Order never learned.” Her throat tightens. She hates that he sees her so clearly with this. Hates that part of her believes him. * MEETRA: “And if they say no?” * MICAL: “Then we thank them for listening, and we keep moving. The Force will make room for this. It already is.” His gaze lifts, almost reverent. “I can feel it.” MEETRA closes her eyes. She thinks of the now empty temples. Of broken councils. Of echoes that never learned to let go. Then…she thinks of quiet places. Of people breathing. Of the Force without banners or ranks. She opens her eyes, breathes in. * MEETRA (quietly): “I’ll speak to them. No promises. No declarations.” MICAL inclines his head, gratitude clear but restrained. * MICAL: “That’s all I would ever ask.” They stand together as the sun sinks lower, the sea swallowing its reflection without protest. For the first time in a long while, MEETRA doesn’t feel like she’s standing at the head of something doomed to collapse. Just… at the beginning of something uncertain. And that feels right. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "-Jedi Reparations">><<replace "#JediReparations">>Jedi Reparations MEETRA looks around, hands folded behind her back. She feels the weight of listening devices that probably exist…and ones that don’t need hardware at all. Old instincts. * MEETRA (voice even): “How are the old ruins?...” The Couruscant Jedi Temple. MICAL inclines his head, understanding immediately. He answers just as carefully. * MICAL: “The Republic has posted caretakers. Uniformed ones. No more private crews tearing stones out of history for credits. The old halls are sealed. Guarded. Observed.” Relief flickers through MEETRA before she can stop it. Ossus. Coruscant. Ruined enclaves picked clean after the war. At least that bleeding has slowed. * MEETRA: “And the…travelers? The ones who feel the pull again.” The new Jedi that travel the galaxy. MICAL allows himself a small smile - brief, controlled. * MICAL: “I keep track of…their weather patterns. When a current shifts, I check in. Quietly. Some answer. Some don’t. A few only listen.” His gaze sharpens. “They’re careful. As they should be.” Good. Staying hidden is important. * MEETRA: “The delegations?” The Republic Senate. * MICAL: “Trying,” MICAL answers honestly. “The leader understands that stability isn’t built with fleets alone. A handful of delegates do too - the ones old enough to remember what was, before the war.” A pause. “They work with me. Slowly. With restraint.” MEETRA exhales. That, at least, is unexpected mercy. * MICAL (continuing): “They’re asking questions. About why the central archive remains empty.” She stiffens. Of course they want to know Tython’s location. * MEETRA: “You disagree.” * MICAL (voice deeper): “I believe a visible heart would steady the galaxy. A symbol people can point to.” His voice softens. “But I understand why you don’t want one yet. Why you and the others keep the garden scattered.” JOLEE’s laughter echoes faintly in her memory. JUHANI’s caution. Survival written into choice. * MEETRA: “It isn’t fear. It’s timing.” * MICAL: “I know.” Frustration edges his calm. “Still - it’s difficult, waiting, explaining it. Only acting when called. Reading signs instead of maps.” He looks at her. “But I’m grateful the steps taken follow the Accords. Quiet help. No proclamations.” She meets his eyes. Trust passes between them, unspoken. * MEETRA: “Patience. Just a little longer.” * MICAL (nodding): “I shall keep attentive to the weather.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "-Tython">><<replace "#Tython">>Tython MEETRA asks another question, leading to a delicate conversation, speaking in code. * MEETRA: “You’ve reviewed the readings from the anomaly.” The Tho Yor. * MICAL (inclining his head): “Yes. And the accompanying presence.” He allows himself the smallest pause. “The structure’s responses change everything.” MEETRA’s thoughts return to the massive, silent forms of the Tho Yor, standing as if they were listening to something far older than everything else in the galaxy. * MEETRA: “They hold. Whatever turbulence moves through the wider current…it didn’t reach the center. The distortions fractured before they touched it.” * MICAL (voice low): “That matches the earliest inferences. The structures were never conduits. They were wardens.” His fingers curl slightly at his side. “If they’re still functioning, then the anomaly isn’t just stable - it must be actively preserved.” She feels a prickle of unease at that. Preserved for what? * MICAL (continuing): “I wish we understood why. Every record ends just before it matters, seemingly curated that way.” He exhales. “Someone wanted the knowledge to survive, but not be found easily.” * MEETRA (turning to him): “Hidden on purpose…” * MICAL: “Yes, which means whatever rests at the center was never meant for an age like ours.” * MEETRA (looking to the sky): “You may have some more information on it soon…” MICAL looks to her, eyes searching, but says nothing. His curiosity cannot be expressed here, but he is excited for what she means by her words. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "-Kolto and the Selkath">><<replace "#KoltoSelkath">>Kolto and the Selkath * MEETRA (turning to him): “MICAL, tell me what’s really happening with kolto.” He doesn’t deflect. That alone tells her how serious it is. * MICAL: “It’s no longer just a Selkath concern. From what I’ve heard rumored, the extraction fields aren’t producing at sustainable levels. The harvesting cycles are slowing, and the recovery time isn’t shortening.” His voice lowers. “They can’t meet the galaxy’s demand much longer.” MEETRA feels a familiar chill…kolto keeps fleets alive. It’s what allows worlds to stand, keep wars survivable. This is deadly serious. * MEETRA: “And the Selkath?” * MICAL: “Struggling to keep it contained. They’ve built their neutrality, their economy - everything - around being indispensable. If the supply collapses…” He lets the thought finish itself. “Manaan collapses with it. And the galaxy follows shortly after.” Her jaw tightens. Too many crises balance on too few resources. * MICAL (continuing, softly): “There’s fear. Of loss, and of replacement. The Republic is quietly funding alternative healing research in the Jaso Sector. Synthetic derivatives. Bio-replicative compounds.” A pause. “If another source becomes viable before the Selkath recover, kolto will stop being sacred.” * MEETRA: “What do you think is wrong? With the supply.” * MICAL (shaking his head): “I don’t know. Environmental imbalance. Overharvesting. Or something deeper.” His gaze drifts toward the ocean beyond the glass. “The Selkath believe the sea is responding to something.” He looks back to her, and there it is - that quiet, stubborn hope she’s come to recognize. “I was hoping being here might help to listen for it. And with you and your companions…” A faint smile. “I’m more optimistic than I was.” * MEETRA: “Then we will listen with you.” They feel the Force move beneath the waves, and for the first time since arriving, the sea seems to stir in answer. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "-Mical">><<replace "#Mical">>Mical MEETRA moves her eyes away from the limitless ocean, squarely to MICAL, for a long moment before speaking. He stands differently now than he once did. Straighter, and quieter. As if he has learned when not to fill the space around him. * MEETRA: “You’ve changed,” she says at last. “Since Dantooine. Since Telos. Since…everything.” He doesn’t smile at that. He considers it. * MICAL: “I had to. There wasn’t an Order left to grow into.” MEETRA feels the truth of it settle between them. She remembers him in those early days…eager, patiently precise, still believing that knowledge alone could earn belonging. * MEETRA (softly): “You were ready. You just never really had a chance with them.” * MICAL: “No, I probably didn’t.” He exhales, slow. “But the absence taught me something I wouldn’t have learned otherwise.” * MEETRA: “Which is?” * MICAL: “That the Jedi don’t survive because they’re strong. They survive because someone is willing to wait for them. To keep the doors unlocked. To remember where the foundations are buried.” MEETRA feels something tighten in her chest. She thinks of the ruins, of names whispered instead of recorded, of gardens scattered across the stars. * MEETRA: “You’re carrying more than you let on.” MICAL meets her gaze. There is no defensiveness there - only resolve. * MICAL: “I’m carrying what’s possible. And what breaks if we rush it.” A faint smile touches his mouth. “I used to think being a Jedi meant acting when called. Now I know it also means knowing when not to.” She studies him, seeing the Order rarely chose: a steward shaping survival. * MEETRA: “You’re frustrated.” * MICAL: “Yes,” he admits. “And grateful. The Republic is listening. The Force is…patient, in its way. And you’re still here.” His voice softens. “That’s more than I ever expected after Malachor.” MEETRA looks away, listening to the water, to the Force moving gently through stone and sea. * MEETRA: “Then keep doing what you’re doing. We’ll need someone who remembers why we waited.” MICAL inclines his head to her respectively. And for another time in the recent past, MEETRA feels certain the Jedi will endure, because someone like MICAL will never let them disappear. <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Go back">>

MANAAN: Kolto Decline A single glowstrip gently hums above the bunk in the EBON HAWK’s Port Dormitory, as MEETRA sits cross-legged on the edge of it, a datapad resting in her hands. BASTILA’s report of Manaan from years ago scrolls slowly beneath her thumb, diplomatically speaking of her experiences, discoveries, and suggestions. MEETRA reads past the words, remembering what the report doesn’t say - the pressure chambers, the watchful eyes, the way the ocean itself felt guarded. Manaan had never trusted the Jedi. It had used them, and resented them for it. A familiar weight settles in her chest. Disputed, that’s one word for it. Her communicator chirps, feeling it as a small tightening in her shoulders, before she taps it active. * MICAL (soft, restrained): “MEETRA - I’m sorry to intrude. I hoped to speak with you - privately.” * MEETRA: “MICAL - you have my attention.” A pause. Then, more quietly, * MICAL (quiet, hesitant): “....the Ahto High Court are holding an unofficial meeting, of some importance. I’ve secured an advising role in it. Since you’re here, I would ask if you would come with me.” * MEETRA: “When?” * MICAL: “Soon. They asked for discretion in the meeting.” MEETRA looks down at BASTILA’s report, at the archived certainty of history pretending to be settled. * MEETRA: “They wouldn’t ask unless something’s already wrong.” * MICAL: “I thought the same. If you’re willing, I would prefer you beside me.” She doesn’t answer immediately. Her thoughts drift outside the ship, where Manaan’s endless ocean curves beneath the station, seemingly hiding everything that matters. * MEETRA: “I’ll come. But I don’t think they’ll like what they’re asking for.” The Ahto High Court The Ahto High Court chamber evokes the sterile, protected splendor of the city; water flows behind translucent walls, refracting light into slow, hypnotic patterns. The air smells faintly of salt and antiseptic. Councilors hover in their stations, bodies rigid, eyes sharp. Formality here is armor. They begin arguing before introductions conclude. <img src="Act1/Manaan1Kolto.png" class="png"> “The yield fluctuation is minimal -” “ - it is accelerating, not fluctuating -” “Speculation without consensus is irresponsible -” “Kolto purity has dropped three percent in export zones -” MEETRA stands still at MICAL’s side, hands clasped behind her back, eyes tracking the movement. The rhythm is familiar. Talk over truth. Debate as delay. Politics. Eventually, data is projected into the chamber: readouts from the Hrakert Rift. Kolto concentrations destabilizing. Micro-toxicity where none existed before. The ocean floor acting as if it has been wounded. “The cause is unclear….” “Natural cycles exist…” “Not aligned with offworld extraction patterns…” The room fractures into noise again. MEETRA feels the subtle tension in the Force, of something being avoided. As she takes another look at the court members, the voice of the Presiding Chief Judge of the Ahto High Court cuts through, sharp and resolute. * DOSHA’VAR (declarative): “The Jedi have no standing here. We remember what followed the last time we allowed their ‘assistance.’ A research station destroyed. Our scientists killed. Our sovereignty violated!” * MICAL (stepping forward, careful, diplomatic): “With respect, CHIEF JUSTICE, the destruction of the Hrakert station was -” * DOSHA’VAR (interrupting): “- a consequence of Jedi presence. You bring instability. You always have.” MEETRA watches the Presiding Judge closely, feeling his words bend around what is probably the truth…politics. The anger is real, but his conclusion is appropriately convenient. * MICAL (inclining his head): “An invitation to this meeting was extended to us - allow us information. Access. Let us understand the scope before we decide how to advise.” A low murmur ripples through the Court. Finally, one councilor turns their gaze fully on MEETRA * SELKATH COUNCIL MEMBER: “You say you are Force-sensitive.” MEETRA meets their eyes without flinching, presently listening. * SELKATH COUNCIL MEMBER: “Then sense it. Tell us where the corruption begins. Do this, and we will decide whether further cooperation is warranted.” MEETRA feels the shape of the demand immediately. Solve the problem, without touching it, without seeing it. Without implicating anyone who profits from it. She exhales slowly, uncomfortably constrained by the instruction. * MEETRA (calmly): “You’re asking for an answer…without allowing the means to verify it.” * DOSHA’VAR (eyes narrow): “We are asking the Jedi to prove their worth, without repeating their mistakes.” MEETRA glances sideways at MICAL. He looks frustrated, but not surprised. She turns her attention inward, reaching into the truth sitting in the room. Fear of losing control. Fear of accountability. Fear that the kolto crisis is not an accident, but a consequence. <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1KoltoInvestigate>> * <<link "Agree to Investigate the Problematic Kolto Yields">><<set $Manaan1KoltoInvestigate = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> * MEETRA: “I’ll listen,” she says at last. “But understand this…whatever is poisoning the Rift did not begin there.” The chamber falls quiet, the Selkath do not deny it. And that tells her everything. The Court adjourns the meeting, and the two Jedi quietly leave the chambers. [[An Oppurtunity->Manaan1Oppurtunity]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Decline to Help the Ahto City Council">><<set $Manaan1KoltoInvestigate = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> They are watching her now - not as a guest, not even as a Jedi, but as a tool they have already decided to use. MEETRA feels the distinct pressure in the Force, subtle but insistent, of the Ahto High Court looking at her as a simple tool, and how they’ve already predetermined how she will be used. * MEETRA (slowly exhaling): “No.” The word lands softly, but it cuts through the chamber harder than any raised voice. A ripple of agitation moves through the Selkath. Fins flex. Murmurs rise, sharp and offended. * SELKATH COUNCIL MEMBER: “You refuse?” MEETRA turns her tired gaze across them, connecting with each of their black eyes with precision. * MEETRA: “You’re not asking for help. You’re asking for absolution.” MICAL stiffens beside her, but says nothing. * MEETRA (continuing, voice even): “You want me to sense a problem you don’t want visible. You want the Force to give you an answer that lets you avoid responsibility. And when it does, you’ll decide whether to believe it based on whether it costs you anything.” * DOSHA’VAR (eyes narrowing): “You overstep.” * MEETRA: “I’ve stepped into situations like this before, and I know how this ends.” She gestures toward the projection of the Rift, toward the wounded ocean floor, the distorted readings. “Kolto cannot be infinite. It was never meant to be stripped, exported, regulated into profit and policy. The sea remembers that. The Force remembers that. And now you’re afraid the consequence has finally reached you.” The chamber grows colder, in temperature and in presence. MEETRA barely notices, emboldened by the words coming from her mouth. * MEETRA: “You claim neutrality. But neutrality does not mean innocence. It only means delay.” * SELKATH COUNCIL MEMBER (leaning forward): “Then you will abandon Manaan?” * MEETRA (shaking her head): “No. I won’t interfere under these circumstances.” Heavy, hollow silence follows. MICAL finally speaks, carefully. * MICAL: “If we are denied access, denied transparency…then we cannot act responsibly.” MEETRA turns slightly toward him, a brief acknowledgment. Then back to the Court. * MEETRA: “If you want the Jedi’s help, you open your records to us. You open access to the Rift. You allow accountability to touch those who profit from this system. Until then - do not ask the Jedi to clean up what politics created.” * DOSHA’VAR (sharp): “And if we refuse?” MEETRA meets his gaze without flinching. * MEETRA (quietly): “Then this crisis will continue. And for the benefit of the galaxy, it will not be the Jedi who caused it.” She turns away first, MICAL following shortly. She feels the previously held tension in the room tightening, the lie straining to hold. Some problems cannot be solved by listening harder. Some must be owned by their stewards. [[An Oppurtunity->Manaan1Oppurtunity]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> <</if>> </div>

MANAAN: An Oppurtunity The day after the council meeting, MICAL makes his way to the EBON HAWK. He finds MEETRA working with MIRA in Communications, giving a slight bow to both of them. MEETRA stands from her chair, with MIRA not far behind. MICAL pauses before he speaks, measuring how to share his words, clearing his throat softly. * MICAL: “One of the Selkath councilors has requested a private meeting. Not in chambers, not on record.” * MEETRA: “That didn’t take long.” * MICAL (folding his hands into his sleeves): “He insists it must be discreet. His words, not mine.” That gets her attention. She can see the hesitation in MICAL’s face, something he’s not good at hiding. The scholar in him is wary, the Jedi is already bracing for compromise. * MEETRA: “Then we don’t go alone. We should bring BAO-DUR. If someone’s poisoning kolto, I want someone who understands systems, not politics.” * MICAL (nodding immediately): “I was hoping you’d agree.” The temperature isn’t the only thing that gets colder at night in Ahto City. The transparisteel walkways glow with soft bioluminescence, reflecting off the endless water beneath them. MEETRA instinctively tracks the patrol routes - Selkath guards gliding past at measured intervals, maintaining their regulation calm. BAO-DUR’s mechanical arm hums faintly as he adjusts its sensitivity, eyes flicking to conduits and pressure seams hidden in the architecture. The storefront they were told to meet at is small and sterile: medical supplies stacked in clean rows, diagnostic lights pulsing softly. Nothing out of place. It makes MEETRA uneasy. The door seals behind them with a muted hiss. A heartbeat passes, then a few more. The Jedi hold in the moment’s anticipation <img src="Act1/Manaan1Oppurtunity.png" class="png"> A panel slides open behind the counter, revealing a concealed corridor where water shimmers behind reinforced transparisteel. From the shadows emerges one of the Selkath Council members, robes pristine, posture rigid with practiced authority. His eyes dart once - just once - toward the door they entered through. * COUNCIL MEMBER: “I assure you,” he says quickly, voice pitched low, “you are in no danger. I am KELRU’THEN, a justice of the Selkath Council.” MEETRA’s hand drifts a fraction closer to her belt. She doesn’t ignite her saber. That choice is instinctual but deliberate. * MEETRA (evenly): “You asked Jedi here in secret, on Manaan. That alone makes this dangerous.” KELRU’THEN exhales through his gills, visibly steadying himself. He’s not on steady ground either. * KELRU’THEN: “Secrecy is necessary. The Council cannot know of this meeting.” * BAO-DUR (tilts his head, scanning): “That usually means someone’s trying to avoid accountability.” KELRU’THEN gestures them farther inside, away from the storefront sensors. The hum of the city fades, replaced by the quiet rush of water and the faint click of concealed machinery. * KELRU’THEN (continuing): “I’ve heard and seen enough,” pacing now. “Unregistered equipment shipments. Deep-sea access permits issued through shell intermediaries. Activity near the Hrakert Rift that no independent Selkath venture could afford.” He stops, hands curling at his sides. “But I have no proof. And without proof, the Council will dismiss it.” * MEETRA: “So you want us unseen. Untraceable.” * KELRU’THEN: “Yes.” He produces a slim datachip and slides it across the counter. It stops just short of BAO-DUR’s mechanical fingers. “Docking bay. A narrow launch window. An even narrower return. Coordinates. Miss either, and questions will be asked.” His eyes harden. “If they reach me, I will deny this conversation ever happened. This cannot be traced back to my involvement in any way.” BAO-DUR picks up the chip, brow furrowing as he scans it. * BAO-DUR: “How did you get this information?” KELRU’THEN stiffens instantly, his political arrogance clear through his Selkath mannerisms. * KELRU’THEN: “That is not something I will discuss. What is important is the information given to you.” The air tightens as MEETRA feels it, a pressure in her gut. Patterns clicking into place. The way KELRU’THEN avoids her eyes. The way his fear smells like guilt. * MEETRA (gently): “You hired someone.” The words hang there, the Selkath recoiling as if struck. His voice comes back agitated, defensive. * KELRU’THEN (snapping, composure cracking): “I did what was necessary! The kolto degradation began before my actions, I did not cause it. I sought an external investigation - one not bound by Selkath bureaucracy.” His voice drops, defensive, almost pleading. “I feared internal sabotage. I believed mercenaries would be…a neutral path. It was only after they journeyed to the rift that the kolto returns showed toxicity.” * BAO-DUR (pointed): “Who?” KELRU’THEN looks at MEETRA, weighing if he should give the name, his black amphibian eyes staring intensely at her. They finally relax, and he relents. * KELRU’THEN (voice lowered again): “A few mercenaries from the Czerka Corporation are involved.” The name cuts through the room like a blade. MEETRA feels an old, familiar tension coil in her chest…memories of contracts written with smiles and executed with devastation. * BAO-DUR (heavy): “Czerka doesn’t do neutral. They do profitable.” * MICAL (inclining his head in agreement): “And historically, ‘investigation’ is not their preferred outcome.” * KELRU’THEN (shoulders sagging): “Then I chose wrongly. And now I fear I’ve worsened the situation.” MEETRA studies him - this Selkath caught between ambition and panic, trying to manage consequences after surrendering control. She feels no satisfaction. Only urgency. MICAL turns to her. He doesn’t speak. He waits, for her decision... <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1Oppurtunity>>* <<link "Agree to Investigate Czerka Interference">><<set $Manaan1Oppurtunity = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>The decision settles heavily but cleanly. * MEETRA: “I don’t trust the Council, and I don’t trust you.” She meets KELRU’THEN’s eyes. “But if kolto is being poisoned, politics don’t matter. Lives do. We’ll investigate.” Relief flashes across KELRU’THEN’s face…only to falter as MICAL steps forward. * MICAL (smoothly): “On one condition - the Jedi are granted a sanctioned enclave on the eastern side of Ahto City. Neutral ground. No interference.” * KELRU’THEN (recoiling): “That would require Council approval” * MICAL (interrupting calmly): “It will. Or this arrangement ends now.” The silence stretches. Water rushes behind the walls. Finally, KELRU’THEN inclines his head, defeated. * KELRU’THEN: “Reluctantly…agreed.” He quickly retreats into the hidden corridor. The panel seals. The storefront lights brighten again, returning the world to polite normalcy. As they step back onto the glowing walkways, MEETRA exhales a tense breath, glancing at MICAL. * MEETRA (smirking): “I’m impressed.” * MICAL (small, tired smile): “The Force guides us, but not everything in life is meant to be surrendered to it.” MEETRA looks out over the dark water below, toward secrets buried deep and toxins spreading unseen.No, sometimes you have to step into the depths yourself. [[Underwater Investigation->Manaan1UnderwaterInvestigation]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Refuse to Investigate Czerka Interference">><<set $Manaan1Oppurtunity = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>MEETRA feels the weight of it settle in her chest, turning over into clarity. She looks at KELRU’THEN again, really looks at him. The tension in his posture. The way his fear hides behind procedure. * MEETRA: “No.” The word is quiet, but it cuts clean. * KELRU’THEN (stiffening): “You would abandon Manaan over politics?” * MEETRA (evenly): “I would abandon this,” gesturing to the room. “You hired Czerka. You hid it. And now you want absolution without accountability.” Her voice hardens. “That’s not an investigation, that’s damage control.” BAO-DUR shifts his weight, mechanical hand curling. MICAL remains still, watching her - not surprised, only attentive. * MEETRA (continuing): “The kolto is sick. But so is the system protecting it. I won’t operate in shadows so you can deny responsibility when this fails.” * KELRU’THEN (composure cracking): “Then people will die!” * MEETRA (meeting his gaze, without flinching): “People always die when leaders choose secrecy over truth.” She turns away from him. “Find the courage to say this aloud, then come find us.” The door slides open, MEETRA walks through it, followed by BAO-DUR, then MICAL, leaving KELRU’THEN alone in his guilt and secrets. <<set $Manaan1Kolto to "RefuseInvestigation">> [[Explore Ahto City->Manaan1Explore]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>> </div>

MANAAN: Bastila's Debrief * Filed by: Bastila Shan, Jedi Sentinel * Location: Ahto City and the Hrakert Rift, Manaan <img src="Act1/Manaan1Bastila.png" class="png"> Manaan is a world defined by contradiction: serene in appearance, yet rigid and unforgiving beneath the surface—much like the oceans that sustain it. Officially neutral in the Republic–Sith conflict, the planet’s true power lies in its monopoly on kolto. This resource has elevated the Selkath to a position of immense strategic importance, and their society reflects the fear of losing it. Law on Manaan is absolute, impartial only in name, and enforced without regard for intent or circumstance. From our arrival, it was evident that Manaan’s neutrality is under strain. Sith influence is present, operating through intimidation, economic leverage, and covert manipulation. While the Selkath insist upon balance, their refusal to confront this influence has allowed the Sith to gain ground quietly. In this environment, even Jedi action—however just—risks catastrophic political consequences, including the severing of kolto supplies to the Republic. Rakatan Ruins and the Star Map <img src="Act1/Manaan1BastilaStarMap.jpg" class="png"> Our investigation led beneath the Hrakert Rift to an ancient Rakatan facility submerged deep within the ocean. The Selkath regard this region with ancestral fear, guided by instinct and fragmented myth rather than historical understanding. Within these ruins, we located a fully functional Rakatan Star Map. The Star Map was protected by automated defenses and hostile life-forms altered by prolonged exposure to dark side energies. As with other Maps, activation required sensitivity to the Force, reinforcing the conclusion that these devices were designed exclusively for Force users. Data retrieved from this Map further refined the path to the Star Forge. The Progenitor <img src="Act1/Manaan1BastilaProgenitor.png" class="png"> Within the same facility resided an entity known to the Selkath as the Progenitor. Evidence suggests it is an ancient Rakatan being preserved far beyond its natural lifespan through advanced technology. Its role appears to have been that of a caretaker or overseer, bound eternally to the facility after the collapse of the Infinite Empire. The Progenitor exhibited immense latent power but a fractured consciousness, likely the result of millennia of isolation and dark side exposure. It claimed responsibility for the Selkath species, asserting that their development was shaped—or directly engineered—by Rakatan design. While the full extent of this claim cannot be verified, archaeological and biological evidence strongly indicates Rakatan interference in Selkath evolution. Political and Ethical Assessment <img src="Act1/Manaan1BastilaCouncil.png" class="png"> Manaan’s modern society exists atop the ruins of this fallen empire, unknowingly shaped by its legacy. The Selkath fear domination above all else, yet their rigid neutrality risks enabling it. By refusing to act, they allow Sith influence to grow unchecked. For the Jedi, Manaan presents a difficult lesson. The Force may urge decisive action, but wisdom demands restraint. Open intervention would likely drive the Selkath toward the Sith or provoke isolationist retaliation that harms the Republic. Diplomacy and subtle guidance remain the only viable path forward. Conclusion Manaan is stable, but fragile. Neutral, but compromised. Its oceans conceal both the key to galactic healing and the remnants of an empire that fell through arrogance and misuse of the Force. The Star Map advances our mission, but the world itself serves as a warning: power hoarded, neutrality enforced without wisdom, and fear elevated above compassion will inevitably lead to decay. That is my full report, Master. May the Council heed not only what we have learned on Manaan—but what the Force is cautioning us never to become. <<back "Go back">>

MANAAN: Underwater Investigation The next night, the Jedi follow the directions from KELRU’THEN, finding a docking port with a sleek, aggressive submersible ship, docked and ready. The Jedi climb into the central cockpit, with BAO-DUR loosing the ship free from its moorings with a dull metallic knock. He activates the twin wing stabilizers to drive them into the darkness, the ocean water closing around them <img src="Act1/Manaan1Submersible.png" class="png"> Light fractures immediately; sun-bright blue fades into layered indigo, then into something heavier, thicker - as if the water itself resists their passage. The hull creaks softly, a reminder that this world is not meant for them. Outside the viewport, particulate matter drifts like slow snow, disturbed by the craft’s descent into the Hrakert Rift. MEETRA feels something settle into her bones as they dive…a pressure, in the Force, like standing too close to a heat generator that burns sideways. She’s not excited about it. Probably coming from whatever the truth is about this whole situation. <img src="Act1/Manaan1SubmersibleInterior.png" class="png"> The farther they go, the more the Rift opens beneath them, a jagged wound in the seafloor. She recalls BASTILA’s reports: ancient Selkath warnings, Republic surveys gone silent, a Star Map hidden where no one was meant to linger. It looks the same now - vast, skeletal, and alien. * BAO-DUR (muttering): “Something looks like it’s interfering with my baseline readings,” his mechanical arm clicking softly. “It’s a frequency, pulsing out…I can’t get a lock on it, but we’re getting closer to it.” * MICAL (eyes closed, breathing measured): “It’s amplifying the closer we get. Like radiation without heat.” * MEETRA (musing): “Call out anything you see. We don’t want any surprises here.” MEETRA tightens her focus, reinforcing mental barriers she hasn’t used in years. The sensation sharpens as they descend…thoughts tugged, memories briefly echoing where they shouldn’t. This can’t be a coincidence…did the Distortions wake something down here? The submersible slips deeper, its external lights cutting narrow cones through the dark shadows, as the Rift fully reveals itself. The seafloor drops away into a vast chasm, its edges fractured and asymmetrical, exposing the sudden shifts of tectonic plates. Jagged shelves descend in irregular steps, disappearing into black below. Fine sediment drifts upward from the depths, hovering in slow, circular currents that give the entire space a sickly, suspended feeling. MEETRA’s unease deepens. The Force here feels misaligned, overwritten somehow. Something old is still present, but something newer is pressing over it, like static layered atop a signal. Was this caused by Revan? Is this something new? As they descend along the Rift wall, artificial light noticeably intrudes. Floodlamps stab into the darkness at awkward angles, their beams harsh and white, scattering against particulate clouds, casting long warped shadows across the rock. Power cables snake along the seafloor, draped carelessly over ancient stone, secured with clamps that look temporary, rushed. Kolto containment units sit anchored near the Rift’s base: massive, bulbous tanks with reinforced struts, their translucent sides glowing faintly green-blue. Some hum steadily, others flicker, their internal light uneven, sickly. Leaks of faint luminescence bleed into the surrounding water like dye dispersing in ink. <img src="Act1/Manaan1RiftDiscovery.png" class="png"> Movement flashes across the periphery of the viewport. A small, narrow submersible - sleeker, faster - cuts away from the site, its lights dimming as it angles toward open water. BAO-DUR’s hands tighten on the controls, engines responding as he adjusts their heading. * BAO-DUR: “We’ve been detected.” He surges the craft forward slightly, moving to follow it. * MICAL (opening his eyes): “No.” * MEETRA (nodding in agreement): “Let it go. We’re not here to make noise.” Reluctantly, BAO-DUR throttles back. The fleeing vessel vanishes into the dark, swallowed by distance and pressure, and the JEDI drift onward. The submersible glides through the heart of the hidden operation, slow and deliberate now. The JEDI study the scene in silence: floodlamps bolted at crooked angles, cables draped without regard for currents or structural integrity, anchors driven where the seabed fractures instead of stabilizes. Nothing here is planned for longevity. It’s a grab, not a settlement. In and out, before anyone asks the wrong questions. * BAO-DUR (quietly): “This isn’t Selkath work, scrolling through structural scans. Their harvest platforms are modular, balanced. These anchors are overstressed, the containment units mismatched. Whoever set this up wasn’t thinking about sustainability - just yield.” MICAL nods, gaze lingering on a leaking kolto tank, its glow bleeding unevenly into the water. * MICAL: “Selkath treat kolto as stewardship. This treats it like ore.” He exhales. “Czerka signatures aren’t just the machinery, it’s the indifference. I’m sure it’s them.” * MEETRA: “At least that mystery is solved…” Her words echo the truth of it settling in her, heavy and familiar. Sloppy mining, from a corporation chasing profit while something older and far more dangerous hums beneath their feet. They didn’t understand what they touched, they just wanted the monetary valuable. [[The Star Map->Manaan1StarMap]]

MANAAN: The Star Map As BAO-DUR moves the sub around the area of the short-sighted harvesting, a different light source appears. The legendary Star Map emerges on the other side of the ridge gradually, first as a silhouette, then as structure. Ancient stone rises from the Rift floor in a broad, circular formation, its surface etched with angular glyphs that catch and distort the light. The architecture is unmistakable: Rakatan, severe, purpose-built. A machine disguised as a monument. But something is…wrong with it. <img src="Act1/Manaan1StarMap.png" class="png"> At the base of the Star Map, clinging to the stone like a living wound, is a golden, translucent substance. It ripples faintly, gelatinous but cohesive, forming thick, uneven lobes that pulse in slow, irregular rhythms. Light passing through it refracts strangely, bending into warm amber halos that don’t belong in the cold blue depths. The JEDI’s proximity to it spikes the pressure in the Force sharply. MEETRA inhales through clenched teeth as the Distortion invasively washes over them. It presses against her awareness like a probing current, tugging at the edges of memory, testing for weaknesses. Her thoughts blur for a heartbeat, images threatening to surface unbidden again. She locks her mind down, hard. They cannot get close. Every meter forward makes the sensation worse, like stepping deeper into invisible fallout. MICAL leans forward, transfixed despite himself. * MICAL (stiff): “The resonance, if…if the Star Map is active again - if the Distortions reawakened it…” * MEETRA (voice rough): “...then it’s contaminating everything around it. Kolto included.” BAO-DUR’s console erupts with scrolling data, alarms muted but insistent. * BAO-DUR (eyes strained): “The Star Map is...a conduit. It’s converting Force interference into molecular instability. I can’t tell if the kolto is being poisoned or something else is happening .” He hastily taps through screens and buttons, pulling in as much sensor data as possible. MICAL hesitates, curiosity warring with caution. * MICAL: “If I reach out through the Force, just briefly…we might understand its intent…” <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1StarMap>>* <<link "Reach out in the Force to the Star Map">><<set $Manaan1StarMap = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>MICAL closes his eyes…just for a moment…just enough. Something answers instantly, violently invasive. MICAL’s breath catches as something hooks into him, commanding his body. His eyes snap open, flooded yellow, pupils blown wide with alien intent. * MEETRA (starting): “- MICAL??!” BAO-DUR whips around, trying to understand her panic. Too late. He moves with borrowed certainty, lightsaber already in hand. The blade ignites mid-swing, blue fire punching clean through the submersible’s low canopy. <img src="Act1/Manaan1RiftTheEnd.png" class="png"> Screams and warnings are replaced by an instant of impossible force, as the submersible implodes. Metal, water, bodies - gone in a fraction of a heartbeat, erased by the weight of the ocean and the silence of the Rift. The Star Map continues humming in the deep, undisturbed, rooted in the nefarious golden membrane. Days pass before anyone notices the Jedi never returned. By then, the evidence is gone. The truth has moved on by this point, dooming the galaxy. [[The End->Devouring3Tsisaarai]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Leave the Star Map Alone">><<set $Manaan1StarMap = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA (instantly): “No.” Her voice is calm through her pain, absolute. “We’re already standing in Force-based radiation of some kind. We don’t provoke the source.” She stares at the golden jelly clinging to the Star Map - ancient dark technology entangled with something new, something responsive. A realization settles into her gut, cold and unwelcome: Czerka didn’t cause this, they found it. And instead of backing away, they built around it. Who knows what effect this had on them? BAO-DUR finishes the last of his scans, hands moving fast, precise. * BAO-DUR: “I’ve got everything the sensors can pull without pushing further.” * MEETRA (breathing out): “Then we’re done here. Punch it before our headaches gets bigger.” The submersible pivots, engines flaring as they pull away from the Star Map. The pressure eases incrementally with distance, but the feeling doesn’t vanish, lingering unanswered. The surface waits above for them, a twinkling ceiling of refracted light. [[Breached->Manaan1Breached]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> <</if>> </div>

MANAAN: Breached The submersible climbs out of the Hrakert Rift in a controlled spiral, ballast tanks venting with low, resonant thuds. Outside the canopy, the black abyss recedes into bruised blue, then into the dim, wavering light of Manaan’s upper waters. The crushing pressure fades, but the Force stays tight, anxious. * BAO-DUR: “Contact - stern vector,” already rerouting power. His mechanical arm whirs as he brings secondary sensors online. “It’s the other sub. It doubled back.” The display flares. The sleek silhouette surges upward behind them, engines burning hotter now, no attempt at stealth. * MICAL: “Repositioning, no doubt.” He unstraps, rising smoothly despite the turbulence. “Then they intend to confront us where witnesses matter. We should do this as quietly as possible.” Light fractures across the canopy, as both submersibles break the surface almost simultaneously. Water detonates outward in twin plumes as docking pylons rise to meet them. Hatches cycle open with violent urgency, blaster fire from the pursuing submersible immediately after, red bolts tearing across the dock. Armored figures pour out of it - Czerka mercenaries, movements aggressive, undisciplined, counting on blunt force rather than precision to give them the advantage. * BAO-DUR (shouting): “Let’s handle this!” already brandishing his ignited saber. Green, blue and cyan blades snap to life as they block blaster blasts in short, purposeful motions. Steam erupts as blaster bolts reflect into it. The JEDI advance through it, deflecting, redirecting—never rushing, never overcommitting. The JEDI stay together, a unified and steady presence. * MICAL: “Defensive only,” he calls, voice calm but commanding. “Disable, if you can.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1Breached.jpeg" class="png"> The mercenaries push hard anyway. One charges too close - MEETRA pivots, a sharp strike to the weapon arm, blaster clattering across the deck. Another tries to flank; BAO-DUR drops him with a stun bolt before he clears cover. It’s fast. Brutal. One-sided. As the mercenaries are cleared out, a Weequay falls into MEETRA’s view - heavier armor than the rest. His eyes flash yellow in the floodlights, wrong and fever-bright. MEETRA clocks it in an instant. Stimulants? What is that? Long, resonant sirens rise over the water, cutting through the chaos. Selkath security skimmers descend in disciplined formation, lights bathing the dock in cold white. MEETRA feels the moment turn against them. Almost like it was planned like this...KELRU’THEN. The JEDI deactivate and holster their weapons, raising their hands in surrender. The Selkath guards carry them off without incident. The holding cells they’re placed in are immaculate and isolating. Time passes without ceremony. Each one of them meditate in their own way to recover from the ordeal. When MICAL and MEETRA are finally escorted out, the corridor opens into a tribunal chamber that feels colder than the Court hall. Procedure and judgment await them. As they walk, MICAL leans close, voice barely audible. * MICAL: “Be careful. This isn’t about what happened on the dock.” MEETRA keeps her eyes forward. No…it’s about what we uncovered below it. The doors seal behind them, and the trial begins. [[The Trial->Manaan1Trial]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

MANAAN: The Trial The tribunal chamber is damper than the hall, making it feel even colder to MICAL and MEETRA. Water-muted light ripples across stone walls and translucent barriers, refracting the figures of the Ahto High Court into wavering silhouettes. MEETRA stands beside MICAL at the central dais, hands relaxed at her sides, spine straight. The air is layered in expectation. After the Court is called to order, DOSHA’VAR regally rises forward in his desk. <img src="Act1/Manaan1Trial1.png" class="png"> * DOSHA’VAR (declarative, voice amplified and sharp): “This Court is convened to address an act of severe trespass. An act that mirrors one of the darkest moments in Manaan’s recent history.” His eyes fix on the Jedi. “Jedi interference once before set our kolto supply back years. Lives were lost. Facilities destroyed. Possibly the cause of our current dilemmas. And now - you descend into the Hrakert Rift without sanction!” A murmur spreads through the chamber, swelling quickly into agitation. * DOSHA’VAR (continuing): ”You endanger our people, you meddle where you are not wanted. And once again, you claim good intentions!” MICAL steps forward before his speech's tide can crest. * MICAL (calmly): “With respect...we did not act without cause. This Court asked for our help.” His voice never rises, but it carries. “We were denied access, denied resources - and still asked to identify the source of the kolto’s decline. So, we did what was within our means. We investigated.” * DOSHA’VAR (lobes bristling): “You violated -” * MICAL (interrupting gently): “We answered.” He glances, briefly and pointedly, toward KELRU’THEN. “And we returned with the information you asked for.” He turns, opening the floor with a small nod to MEETRA. She steps forward and prepares to share to the Court… <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1TrialMining>>* <<link "Blame Czerka">><<set $Manaan1TrialMining = 'Czerka'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA (voice steady): “We found evidence of major illegal harvesting. Czerka Corporation has constructed an unsanctioned mining operation within the Rift, interlaced with Selkath harvesting lines. Their equipment is careless. Their containment unstable.” * COUNCILOR (snapping): “Czerka denies -” * MEETRA (unrelenting): “They attacked us,” voice cutting through the chamber. “Immediately upon surfacing. Armed mercenaries. Their blasters were not defensive, your guards should’ve found evidence of their attack.” As Ahto High Court’s accusing stares start morphing into protests between each other, MEETRA prepares to share the other part of their discovery… [[The Trial (Continued)->Manaan1Trial2]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Blame KELRU’THEN">><<set $Manaan1TrialMining = 'Kelruthen'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA (voice steady): “We found evidence of major illegal harvesting. A covert operation constructed within the Rift - interlaced with Selkath extraction lines and shielded by court-level access codes. This was not a corporate intrusion. It was facilitated.” A ripple moves through the chamber, with an older councilor rising in surprise. * COUNCILOR (sharp): “You accuse this Court -” * MEETRA (turning slightly, eyes fixed): “No. I’m naming the access point.” She pauses, pointing her finger. “The authorizations trace back to JUSTICE KELRU’THEN.” Simultaneous gasps echo from the amphibians. * MEETRA (unflinching): “Czerka didn’t arrive uninvited. They were let in. And when we surfaced, their mercenaries were waiting for us - armed, prepared, and panicked.” Her gaze hardens. “JUSTICE KELRU’THEN wanted this cleaned up, one way or the other.” As the Ahto High Court begins to grasp if this perceived betrayal could be true, MEETRA prepares to share the other part of their discovery… [[The Trial (Continued)->Manaan1Trial2]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Blame Selkath Incompetence">><<set $Manaan1TrialMining = 'Selkath'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA: “We found no single culprit. No definitive source.” A murmur of surprise ripples. * MEETRA (continuing): “What we did find instead was neglect - overlapping extraction routes, outdated containment standards, and emergency exemptions issued faster than safety reviews could follow.” * COUNCILOR (stiffening): “You imply Selkath fault?” * MEETRA (measured, cutting): “I’m stating that blaming outsiders is easier than admitting the Rift has been mismanaged.” She pauses, for effect. “Excuses don’t lose kolto. Systems do.” Silence follows - heavier than accusation. MEETRA shifts the weight on her shoulders, as she prepares to share the other part of their discovery… [[The Trial (Continued)->Manaan1Trial2]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

MANAAN: The Trial <img src="Act1/Manaan1Trial2.png" class="png"> As the Ahto City Council reacts to MEETRA blaming <<if $Manaan1TrialMining is "Czerka">> Czerka<<elseif $Manaan1TrialMining is "Kelruthen">>KELRU'THEN<<elseif $Manaan1TrialMining is "Selkath">>the Selkath<</if>> for the illegal mining in the Rift, she prepares to share the other part of the JEDI's discovery... <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1TrialToxicity>> * <<link "Blame Force Distortions">><<set $Manaan1TrialToxicity = 'Distortions'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA: “The kolto in the Rift shows golden discoloration. The toxicity isn’t chemical - it’s reactive. Our readings indicate prolonged exposure to Force-based distortions, warping the kolto at a molecular level. Whatever is happening in the Force is bleeding into the Rift.” The chamber erupts. Fearful, confused, accusatory shouts overlap. Some blame the Jedi. Others demand explanations. The word curse ripples through the hall. DOSHA’VAR strikes his staff against the stone. * DOSHA’VAR: “Enough.” Silence snaps back, strained and uneasy. * DOSHA’VAR (low, measured): “If the Jedi’s Force itself is involved…then this crisis extends beyond commerce.” His gaze shifts, wary. “The Rift will be sealed. Further study authorized, as soon as possible. And the Jedi will remain under scrutiny until the source of these distortions is understood.” MEETRA releases a slow breath…the truth is out. And it is far larger than any corporation. After their last voiced sparks of outrage, the Court dismisses MICAL and MEETRA back to their holding cells. [[The Verdict->Manaan1Verdict]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Blame Czerka">><<set $Manaan1TrialToxicity = 'Czerka'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA: “The kolto in the Rift shows golden discoloration. Toxicity consistent with forced extraction and exposure to destabilizing energy. Our sensor logs confirm this.” The chamber erupts. Shouts overlap, accusations fly - at Czerka, at the Jedi, at each other. Fear spills into anger. Anger into chaos. DOSHA’VAR slams his staff against the stone. * DOSHA’VAR: “Enough.” Silence snaps back, brittle and forced. * DOSHA’VAR (controlled, voice low): “If there is truth here…then we will find it. The Rift will be examined. The mercenaries identified. And if Czerka has violated Manaan’s sovereignty -” His eyes harden. “- they will answer for it.” MEETRA exhales the pressure in her chest…the truth is out. What the Court does with it is no longer in her control. After their last voiced sparks of outrage, the Court dismisses MICAL and MEETRA back to their holding cells. [[The Verdict->Manaan1Verdict]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Blame Selkath Incompetence">><<set $Manaan1TrialToxicity = 'Selkath'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA: “The kolto in the Rift shows golden discoloration. The toxicity matches stress patterns from over-harvesting: forced extraction beyond safe thresholds, compounded by failing containment protocols. Our sensor logs confirm long-term structural neglect.” The chamber explodes. Furious accusations ricochet inward to the Selkath’s defense. Councilors shout over one another, outrage turning sharply inward. DOSHA’VAR slams his staff down. * DOSHA’VAR: “Enough.” Silence returns, brittle and exposed. * DOSHA’VAR (voice tight): “If this is the result of our own failures…then we will confront them.” His eyes narrow. “An internal audit will begin immediately. The Rift will be reviewed, and those responsible will be held to account - without exception!” MEETRA exhales slowly. The story has landed. Now, there is nowhere left to redirect it. After their last voiced sparks of outrage, the Court dismisses MICAL and MEETRA back to their holding cells. [[The Verdict->Manaan1Verdict]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

MANAAN: The Verdict <<if $Manaan1TrialMining is "Czerka" and $Manaan1TrialToxicity is "Distortions">> Vindication comes quietly, within a single rotation of Manaan’s endless tides. Reports circulate, seizures follow. Czerka installations are shut down, their permits revoked with clinical efficiency. By nightfall, their ships are gone, escorted out of Selkath space, engines burning toward easier prey. The kolto markets shudder, but will eventually steady. The Rift is sealed, but the damage stops spreading. Shortly after MEETRA, MICAL and BAO-DUR are released from custody, DOSHA’VAR arrives without escort at the EBON HAWK’s docking bay. He stands rigid in the chamber where the Jedi are held, his expression as severe as ever. Gratitude seems to sharpen him somehow. <img src="Act1/Manaan1VerdictLight.png" class="png"> * DOSHA’VAR (voice flat): “You were correct,” he says at last. “Czerka trespassed. They siphoned, destabilized, and concealed.” A pause. “Your actions prevented further collapse.” It’s not an apology…but it’s the closest thing he will give. * DOSHA’VAR (continuing): “Our harvesting will divert from the Hrakert Rift. Short-term loss. Long-term stability.” His eyes narrow. “The Council has also approved a sanctioned enclave for the Jedi. Eastern Ahto City.” The words taste sour to him. “As Presiding Chief Justice, it is my duty to enforce that decision.” * MICAL (bowing): “You have our thanks.” MEETRA offers a restrained but measured smile. Trust is slower than justice, but it’s worth it. DOSHA’VAR hesitates, long enough to reveal the words he turns over in his thoughts. * DOSHA’VAR (quietly): “The kolto did not change itself. If disturbances in the Force can warp something so fundamental…then there is no certainty what else may already be compromised.” His eyes meet MICAL’s, grave and searching. “Be vigilant, Jedi. The Force may not be as contained as you believe.” DOSHA’VAR turns and leaves, waterlight swallowing his silhouette. When the docking bay doors close, MICAL exhales, the tension finally breaking. * MICAL (quietly): “You did this,” he says, with a smile bigger than his face can afford. “You reminded the galaxy what the Jedi are meant to be.” * MEETRA (shakes her head): “We helped it remember.” Somewhere inside her, the isolation loosens its grip. The galaxy moves forward. And for once, she lets herself believe it can heal. <<set $Manaan1Kolto to "KoltoSaved">> [[Explore Ahto City->Manaan1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> <<elseif $Manaan1TrialMining is "Czerka" and $Manaan1TrialToxicity is "Czerka">> Vindication comes quietly, within a single rotation of Manaan’s endless tides. Reports circulate, seizures follow. Czerka installations are shut down, their permits revoked with clinical efficiency. By nightfall, their ships are gone, escorted out of Selkath space, engines burning toward easier prey. The kolto markets shudder, but will eventually steady. The Rift is sealed, but the damage stops spreading. Shortly after MEETRA, MICAL and BAO-DUR are released from custody, DOSHA’VAR arrives without escort at the EBON HAWK’s docking bay. He stands rigid in the chamber where the Jedi are held, his expression as severe as ever. Gratitude seems to sharpen him somehow. <img src="Act1/Manaan1VerdictLight.png" class="png"> * DOSHA’VAR (voice flat): “You were correct,” he says at last. “Czerka trespassed. They siphoned, destabilized, and concealed.” A pause. “Your actions prevented further collapse.” It’s not an apology…but it’s the closest thing he will give. * DOSHA’VAR (continuing): “Our harvesting will divert from the Hrakert Rift. Short-term loss. Long-term stability.” His eyes narrow. “The Council has also approved a sanctioned enclave for the Jedi. Eastern Ahto City.” The words taste sour to him. “As Presiding Chief Justice, it is my duty to enforce that decision.” * MICAL (bowing): “You have our thanks.” MEETRA offers a restrained but measured smile. Trust is slower than justice, but it’s worth it. DOSHA’VAR turns and leaves, waterlight swallowing his silhouette. When the docking bay doors close, MICAL exhales, the tension finally breaking. * MICAL (quietly): “You did this,” he says, with a smile bigger than his face can afford. “You reminded the galaxy what the Jedi are meant to be.” * MEETRA (shakes her head): “We helped them remember.” Somewhere inside her, the isolation loosens its grip. The galaxy moves forward. And for once, she lets herself believe it can heal. <<set $Manaan1Kolto to "KoltoSaved">> [[Explore Ahto City->Manaan1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> <<elseif $Manaan1TrialMining is "Czerka" and $Manaan1TrialToxicity is "Distortions">> Vindication arrives quickly, without mercy. Within a single rotation, Czerka’s presence on Manaan collapses. Their facilities are seized. Their contracts nullified. Their ships are escorted from Selkath space under armed watch, engines flaring like wounded pride. The kolto markets stumble, then stabilize. The Hrakert Rift is sealed. The bleeding stops. The Jedi are proven right…and then are expelled for it. The Court’s ruling is delivered without theatrics, its language clean and final; while Czerka is found guilty of illegal extraction and ecological sabotage, the Jedi are charged with undermining Selkath sovereignty, their words during the tribunal deemed reckless, accusatory, corrosive to public trust. Effective immediately, they are banished from Manaan. No enclave, no presence, no return. MEETRA feels the sentence closing a door, somewhere deep inside her. The EBON HAWK lifts from Ahto City under a gray muted sky, engines warming as the ocean recedes into abstraction. As the ship prepares for lightspeed, MEETRA finds MICAL alone in the medical bay, seated on the edge of the bed, hands folded loosely, gaze unfocused. <img src="Act1/Manaan1VerdictBanisherd.png" class="png"> * MICAL: “I should be angry,” he says quietly, without looking up. “At them. At you.” A pause. “I don’t know which troubles me more.” * MEETRA (swallowing): “I didn’t mean to -” * MICAL (interrupting gently): “I know, and yet…Manaan mattered. We were close.” He exhales. “Still - the kolto will be safe soon. The galaxy will breathe easier. That has to count for something.” * MEETRA (nodding, regret heavy): “I’m sorry.” He looks up then, offering a tired, resigned smile. * MICAL: “There’s nothing left to fix here. We move forward.” MEETRA turns back to the cockpit. She sees the stars stretch outside the viewport…and they shoot into blinding lines of space, leaving the past behind them. <<set $Manaan1Kolto to "Banished">><<set $Manaan1 to "Banished">> [[Search for Distortions->EbonHawk1.2]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> <<elseif $Manaan1TrialMining is "Kelruthen" and $Manaan1TrialToxicity is "Distortions">> The judgment comes swiftly, and quietly lethal. Within a single rotation, the Council’s decision is rendered and sealed. The official charge is delivered in language polished smooth by centuries of Selkath law: the JEDI are found guilty of leveling unsubstantiated accusations against COUNCILOR KELRU’THEN, of inflaming public distrust, and - most damning - of potentially influencing the kolto supply through improper use of the Force. The words causality unproven are buried beneath risk unacceptable. Banished from Manaan. Effective immediately. MEETRA stands in the tribunal chamber as the ruling is read, waterlight rippling across the floor like a slow-moving flood. No uproar this time, just cold procedure. If not for Republic protections, the Court may have simply kept them jailed for years. It feels worse than outrage…they’re being erased politely from the planet. The EBON HAWK lifts from Ahto City under armed escort, engines warming as the ocean recedes into blue abstraction. Manaan closes behind them without ceremony. As the ship aligns for hyperspace, MEETRA finds MICAL in the medical bay. He sits on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, hands loosely clasped, staring at nothing. The hum of the ship fills the space between them. <img src="Act1/Manaan1VerdictBanisherd.png" class="png"> * MICAL (quietly):* “I should be able to defend them, the Selkath. Their caution. Their fear.” He exhales. “But I can’t pretend this didn’t matter.” * MEETRA (stepping closer): “I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.” He shakes his head, tired but composed. * MICAL: “What’s done is done. We were close to building something here.” A pause. “Still…if the hidden drilling sites are dismantled, the kolto supply may yet recover. That matters.” * MEETRA: “I’m sorry,” she says, trying to evoke regret for more than one thing. MICAL looks up, a faint, resigned smile touching his eyes. * MICAL: “There’s nothing left to repair on Manaan. We look forward now…to larger problems.” MEETRA turns back to the cockpit. She sees the stars stretch outside the viewport…and they shoot into blinding lines of space, leaving the past behind them. <<set $Manaan1Kolto to "Banished">><<set $Manaan1 to "Banished">> [[Search for Distortions->EbonHawk1.2]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> <<elseif $Manaan1TrialMining is "Kelruthen" and $Manaan1TrialToxicity is "Czerka">> Vindication comes fast. Within a single rotation, the truth surfaces. Hidden extraction sites are uncovered. Czerka’s equipment is seized, their permits revoked, their ships escorted from Selkath space under armed watch. The golden-tainted kolto is traced back to reckless siphoning and destabilized containment. The Rift is sealed. The damage stops spreading. The Jedi are proven right….but then the second ruling falls. In language colder and more careful than the first, the Council absolves itself of internal conspiracy. Czerka acted alone. No Selkath official is found complicit, least of all KELRU’THEN. The Jedi’s accusations are labeled premature, unfounded, with intent to destabilize. For that offense, they are banished from Manaan, effective immediately - no appeals or exceptions. MEETRA stands through it, face still, feeling the verdict settle like silt in her lungs. Manaan justice apparently has margins, like so many other corrupt governments. The EBON HAWK lifts from Ahto City beneath a gray, regulated sky. Patrol craft linger until the freighter clears atmosphere, as if to ensure the planet remembers who is no longer welcome. As hyperspace calculations spool, MEETRA finds MICAL in the medical bay. He sits on the edge of the bed, shoulders rounded, hands loosely clasped, staring at the deck plating like it might answer him. <img src="Act1/Manaan1VerdictBanisherd.png" class="png"> * MICAL (quietly):* “I know why you said it,” before she can speak. “About KELRU’THEN.” A pause. “And I can’t bring myself to be angry.” But the frustration is there anyway…threaded through his voice, controlled but real. “We were close, to carving out a place for the Jedi here. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere that mattered.” He exhales. “Still…the kolto supply is stabilized. The galaxy breathes easier for it.” * MEETRA (steps closer): “I’m sorry.” He looks up, tired but composed. * MICAL: “Nothing more can be done here. Regret won’t change the ruling.” A small, resigned smile. “We have larger fires to put out.” MEETRA turns back to the cockpit. She sees the stars stretch outside the viewport…and they shoot into blinding lines of space, leaving the past behind them. <<set $Manaan1Kolto to "Banished">><<set $Manaan1 to "Banished">> [[Search for Distortions->EbonHawk1.2]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> <<else>> Within twenty-four hours, the Ahto High Council reconvenes. The chamber is closed to observers. The waterlight overhead is dimmed to a cold, aquatic glow that flattens every figure into something indistinct, almost expendability. The charges are read aloud, each one precise, immaculate, and final: * DOSHA’VAR: “The accused are found guilty of theft, unauthorized descent into the Hrakert Rift, and obstruction of justice - crimes punishable by death under Ahto City law.” Capital crimes. <img src="Act1/Manaan1Verdict1.png" class="png"> * MEETRA: “You condemn those who prevented catastrophe.” * DOSHA’VAR: “We condemn those who bring instability to our waters.” MEETRA feels the words echo, dull and heavy in her ears. The Chief Judge’s voice stimulate the subtle nods of the Court who already decided this was necessary before the session began. MICAL’s hands remain folded at his sides, posture composed to the point of rigidity. BAO-DUR’s mechanical arm tightens with a faint whine of servos, then stills. None of them speak…nothing they could say would alter the outcome now. Guards move immediately, increasing the JEDI’s restraints. They are led through corridors that feel narrower than before. Sonic emitters hum at the guards’ sides, at the ready. MEETRA’s thoughts race, calculating distance, timing, possibility. The Force answers her instinctively, surging up like a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She twists, reaching - The sonic pulses don’t feel like pain as they slam into her, but somehow the unexpected disassembly of the weapon hits worse. Her thoughts scatter, vision fracturing as the frequency tears through her equilibrium. The Force slips from her grasp like water through open fingers. She feels herself hit the floor, feels heavy cold hands seize her, feels nothing else… <img src="Act1/Manaan1Verdict2.png" class="png"> She wakes to a sterile cell, pale corners rounded away as if the shadows are forbidden. The air smells faintly of antiseptic. A dull ache hums through her body, every nerve left buzzing, raw. For a moment, she doesn’t know where she is. A Selkath guard stands beyond a transparisteel barrier, his silhouette distorted by the refracting surface. One hand rests on a thick metal lever set into the wall beside him. He does not look at her with malice. Only resignation. * SELKATH GUARD: “You are conscious. That is…unfortunate.” MEETRA pushes herself up onto one elbow. Her limbs feel heavy, distant. The Force is muted, smothered, like sound underwater. After-effects of the sonic scrambling. * SELKATH GUARD (continuing, voice flat): “This judgment is not personal. Manaan survives by removing destabilizing elements.” She almost laughs at that…almost. The guard’s fingers tighten around the lever. * SELKATH GUARD: “This will be brief.” A background hum instantly intensifies, high-pitched now, invasive, vibrating through bone and thought. Orange energy lances from recessed emitters in the walls, converging on her in sharp, geometric beams. The impact steals her breath instantly. Her muscles seize, refusing command. Pain blooms hot and total, flooding every sense at once. <img src="Act1/Manaan1Verdict3.png" class="png"> She collapses, palms scraping uselessly against the smooth floor. Her vision blurs, light smearing into amber streaks. The hum distorts into everything she feels. Her last coherent thought laughs at the moment’s irony…killed by politics for trying to save kolto. The light swallows her whole, the cell goes dark…and MEETRA SURIK is released from her mortal coil. [[The End->Devouring3Tsisaarai]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>><</if>>

MANAAN: Local Unrest The causeways of Ahto City gleam beneath filtered sunlight, waves rolling endlessly beneath the transparisteel walkways. MEETRA walks at an easy pace beside ATTON, the city’s serenity settling uneasily against her thoughts. Manaan always feels calm on the surface…it’s difficult for her to allow this curated peace to exist without questioning it. As she considers this, a challenge to that peace presents itself, almost on cue.. A Selkath steps into their path, clothes damp at the hem, eyes wide and unfocused. His gills flare violently as he points a trembling finger at MEETRA. * SELKATH ZEALOT: “Jedi!” he shrieks, voice cracking through the walkway. “You poison the tides! You bring war and judgment to Ahto City! Every step you take pulls Manaan closer to ruin!” <img src="Act1/Manaan1LocalUnrest1.png" class="png"> MEETRA halts, caught off guard. She searches the Selkath’s face for reason, for context, for anything that explains the sudden hatred. She finds none, only fear, sharpened into accusation. ATTON shifts beside her. She feels it instantly - his old reflex, sharp tongue ready to fire. His jaw tightens. * ATTON: “Hey, buddy,” he starts, edge creeping into his voice, “last I checked, we didn’t -” He stops himself. MEETRA glances at him, surprised. ATTON exhales slowly, forces a crooked smile that doesn’t quite land, but is earnest. * ATTON (starting again): “ - we didn’t schedule an apocalypse today,” he finishes, tone clipped but controlled. The Selkath sputters, gills fluttering in outrage. * SELKATH ZEALOT (hissing): “You always come before disaster! Republic ships. Jedi councils. Empty promises. We will not be harvested again!” And before either of them can respond, the Selkath turns and flees down the walkway, disappearing into the crowd like a ripple swallowed by the sea. MEETRA stands still for a moment, the echo of his words lingering heavier than the humidity. Harvested. That word settles uncomfortably in her mind. She taps her comlink. <img src="Act1/Manaan1LocalUnrest2.png" class="png"> * MEETRA (quietly): “MICAL, I just had a…confrontation. Do you know anything about current growing hostility toward the Jedi in the city?” There’s a pause - brief, deliberate. * MICAL: “Yes, more than I’d like. The Ahto City Council formally approved the concept of a Jedi Enclave yesterday. The vote passed, but barely.” MEETRA closes her eyes for a moment. That explains the fear, the unexpected backlash. * MICAL (continuing): “I’m negotiating the parameters. Regulation, jurisdiction, limits on Republic involvement. One issue in particular is…contentious.” A soft, rueful sound from him. “I requested an open sanctum. A space where Jedi can directly experience the marine environment. The Selkath consider it sacred. Most understand, but those that see it as intrusion are proving difficult.” MEETRA looks out through the transparisteel, watching the vast blue beneath the city. I understand both. But is it worth it, to fight for this? <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1IsoHelpMical>>* <<link "Help MICAL with the Selkath Zealots">><<set $Manaan1IsoHelpMical = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA: “MICAL - do you want help with this?” * MICAL (without hesitation): “Yes, if you’re willing.” * MEETRA: “I am. I’ll meet with you soon.” She ends the transmission and turns back to ATTON. He’s watching her with an expression she knows well…concern mixed with resignation. * ATTON: “Let me guess…you’re going to fix this with empathy and mutual understanding.” * MEETRA (faint smile): “Someone has to. MICAL’s too worried about the details to do that.” * ATTON (snorting): “Your wounded heart is going to bleed all over the Council chamber.” * MEETRA: “So you’ll be fine without me?” * ATTON (smirking): “I’ll survive. Try not to start a diplomatic incident without me.” They part ways with a shared look - something solid but unspoken - before MEETRA turns toward the western arc of the city. [[Zealots->Manaan1Zealots]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Don’t Help MICAL with the Selkath Zealots">><<set $Manaan1IsoHelpMical = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA (regretful exhale): “MICAL…I can’t stay. Whatever’s causing these Force distortions is moving, and I won’t forgive myself if we delay and lose the trail.” There’s a pause, followed by calm acceptance. * MICAL: “I thought you might say that. Thank you for everything, you’ve already done more here than you realize. I’ll finish this. When I can, I’ll catch up to you.” * MEETRA (softly): “Be careful.” * MICAL: “You too.” The channel closes. MEETRA turns back toward the docks. ATTON falls into step beside her, quiet longer than usual. * ATTON: “Huh,” he says finally. “Walking away from a mess you could fix. That’s new.” * MEETRA (not looking at him): “It’s not walking away.” ATTON nods, thoughtful. After they finish their visit to the Republic Embassy, MEETRA shares with ATTON and the other HEROES that they’ll be leaving Manaan shortly, once she gets back to the ship. They acknowledge, their low-level questions passing by without a voice. The corridor to the docking bay stretches long and dim, light refracting through water-slick transparisteel. Each step echoes too loud for MEETRA’s comfort. Familiar and persistent guilt walks with her. She sees MICAL still at the Council chamber in her mind, patient, determined. She could have stayed. She chose not to. I didn’t leave it untouched. She holds onto that, the approval, the leverage she gave him. The truth forced into the open about kolto, about how fragile Manaan really is beneath the calm. Light, at least a little, was left behind. The guilt dulls as a response, managed behind logic. Her thoughts drift as the EBON HAWK looms ahead. Yellow kolto flashes in her memory, pooled beneath the Star Map, like a warning preserved in amber. A detail that refuses to stay buried. She climbs the ramp, and the details are pushed aside. The hatch seals, and the engines hum at ATTON’s command. Minutes later, the stars stretch around the ship, and the EBON HAWK vanishes into hyperspace. [[Leave Ahto City->EbonHawk1.2]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

MANAAN: Zealots The Ahto City Council chamber holds the tension of its participants with ordered stillness, voices low, discussions circulating above polished stone. MICAL and MEETRA stands among the justices; MICAL’s posture formal, hands folded, every inch the diplomat, while MEETRA partially hunches over a datatable projection. The room doors slide open without warning; Selkath isolationists surge inside, voices raised, movements sharp and coordinated. Their words spill out in accusation and fury. “Jedi intrusion is theft!” “Republic presence poisons neutrality!” “They take residence, then resources - this is how it begins!” <img src="Act1/Manaan1Zealots.png" class="png"> DOSHA’VAR rises, and the chamber stills instantly. The isolationists quiet their actions and voices, recognizing the Presiding Chief Justice’s authority. He doesn’t shout or argue with anyone - his voice cuts through the suspence with calm authority. * DOSHAVAR (evenly): “This is a chamber of law. Not spectacle.” The zealots start again in disregard, some crossing into outright insult - claims of betrayal, of hidden contracts, of Jedi corruption beneath the seas. DOSHA’VAR listens. His gills flutter once, acknowledging their sentiments with a nod. * DOSHA’VAR: “Your fear is heard. But your current methods violate the Court’s process.” He gestures sharply. Guards move at once. “You have spoken, and now you will leave.” Protest erupts again, but gain no ground. The isolationists are ushered out swiftly, the doors sealing behind them with finality. Silence returns, heavier than before. DOSHA’VAR turns back to the chamber. * DOSHA’VAR:* “Now…we will proceed properly, again.” DOSHA’VAR regards MICAL and MEETRA carefully. “We have seen your actions, and though it is clear the benefit this Jedi sanctuary will bring for your people - can you address the fear of these Selkath?” He motions to them. “Speak.” <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1Isolationists>>* <<link "Offer the Council Oversight of the Enclave">><<set $Manaan1Isolationists = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>MEETRA takes in a breath, clearing her mind of the startled moments that just passed. She steps forward. * MEETRA (measured): “The Jedi do not seek ownership. We seek understanding, and accountability, in accordance with the Jedi Accords that were made after the last war.” She looks to MICAL, a silent request of approval made…he can guess what she’ll volunteer. He nods his agreement. * MEETRA (continuing): “If that trust is lacking, then we offer direct oversight from the this Council with this enclave. This would be a binding action. The Jedi request a protected space, but it has no need to be isolated in that protection.” A ripple moves through the justices. DOSHA’VAR’s eyes narrow slightly. Those black unfamiliar eyes could be considered thoughtful, possibly. * DOSHA’VAR:* “You would submit Jedi activity to Selkath authority?” * MEETRA: “Yes,” answering without hesitation. “Within the Enclave. Environmental access, research boundaries, and enforcement. If the Jedi overstep, you intervene.” * MICAL (turning sharply): “MEETRA -” She meets his gaze. This is the price. * DOSHA’VAR (studying MICAL): “You resist.” * MICAL (visible tension): “…I do. But I understand the necessity.” The Council confers in low tones, fluid and deliberate. After what seems like a long string of, DOSHA’VAR speaks. * DOSHA’VAR (declaring): “The Jedi sanctuary will proceed. With Selkath oversight enshrined in charter. The ocean is not a resource. It is a trust.” Agreement settles through the chamber. MICAL releases a breath he’s been holding far too long. He turns to MEETRA, relief and gratitude unmistakable. * MICAL (quietly): “I owe you, once again.” * MEETRA (shaking her head): “You respected their law. I just listened to it.” [[Explore Ahto City->Manaan1Explore]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Appeal Directly to the Selkath’s Fears">><<set $Manaan1Isolationists = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>MEETRA allows the silence to stretch long enough to feel uncomfortable. When she finally speaks, her tone is measured, uncertain by design. * MEETRA: “Fear…rarely comes from facts alone.” She glances briefly toward the council benches, then back to DOSHA’VAR. “If I said the Jedi bring only protection, that would not be honest. Outsiders do change places they touch. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes irreversibly.” A ripple of surprise passes through the Justices. MICAL turns toward her, caught off guard…but MEETRA continues before he can interrupt. * MEETRA (continuing): “The Jedi fear that too. Loss of identity. Loss of control. We left the Republic once because we believed outside influence would compromise us.” A quiet beat. “We were wrong about many things - but not about fear.” DOSHA’VAR’s black round eyes narrow slightly in recognition. * DOSHA’VAR: “You liken your Order to Selkath isolationists.” * MEETRA: “I liken us to people who survived by withdrawing. And who now fear that opening their doors again may finish what war began.” The comparison lands, hard. MICAL shifts, clearly uneasy with the direction - but he reins himself in, respecting the decorum of the chamber. DOSHA’VAR turns slightly, addressing the council at large. * DOSHA’VAR: “The ones who disrupted these proceedings believe that every concession leads to erosion. That Manaan will be diluted…its waters, its laws, its future.” He pauses. “They were heard. Their conduct was not tolerated…but their fear is not dismissed.” He turns back to MEETRA. “If the Jedi are permitted to remain, what assurance do the Selkath have that this is not the first tide of many?” MEETRA inclines her head, as if conceding the point. * MEETRA (deliberate, stripped of reassurance): “None.” A stir moves through the chamber. MICAL turns sharply toward her, startled. * MEETRA: “Not in the way you mean. Not contracts. Not councils layered atop councils. If the Jedi fail here again - if we exploit, interfere, or invite war - there will be no recovery.” She meets DOSHA’VAR’s gaze directly. “We are already nearly extinct.” The words land with quiet finality. “The Republic barely tolerates us. Many worlds remember us as generals, not guardians. If Manaan, who is neutral, sovereign, watched by every power in the galaxy, judges us wanting…that judgment will be final.” DOSHA’VAR’s gills flutter once, slow and thoughtful. * DOSHA’VAR: “You frame consequence as assurance.” * MEETRA: “I frame it as reality. Kolto binds the Selkath to the galaxy whether you wish it or not. The Jedi are bound the same way now, through perception.” She gestures faintly toward the sealed doors, where the isolationists were escorted out. “If the Jedi are seen as thieves here, we will be treated as thieves everywhere. If we poison trust on Manaan, there will be no refuge left for us.” MICAL swallows, his insecurities cresting in his eyes, uneasy in this place MEETRA is opening up. Silence settles again, deeper now. DOSHA'VAR looks back to the judges, then to her again. * DOSHA’VAR: “You tie your Order’s survival to Selkath judgment.” * MEETRA: “Because it already is. Just as kolto ties Manaan to wars it never chose. Neither of us can afford another mistake.” DOSHA’VAR studies her for a long moment. He eventually inclines his head in acknowledgment. * DOSHA’VAR: “We will deliberate.” The chamber adjourns soon after, doors sealing with ritual calm. Later that night, over a holotable comm, DOSHA’VAR regards MEETRA with something quieter than scrutiny. * DOSHA’VAR: “The Jedi sanctuary will proceed…with the consequence of possible failure enshrining its stay.” * MEETRA: “Leashes imply distance,” she replies. “This is shared water.” * DOSHA’VAR (faint, approving voice): “You understand what isolationists do not: survival does not come from walls, but from knowing what failure costs.” He nods “You have my support, JEDI SURIK. Not because of promises…but because you accept the reality of extinction.” MEETRA inclines her head, the weight of the truth settling fully into her shoulders. [[Explore Ahto City->Manaan1Explore]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

MANAAN: Out Of Exile The EBON HAWK’s communications room hums with layered signals and soft static, the air smelling faintly of overheated circuitry. MEETRA stands at the console beside MIRA, both of them leaning over overlapping data streams: shipping manifests, Selkath civic logs, filtered Republic intel, cross-checking inconsistencies that refuse to line up cleanly. MIRA’s fingers move fast, efficient, almost bored, but MEETRA feels the familiar prickle at the back of her mind: something here matters more than the numbers suggest. A soft chime cuts through the room, coming from her communicator. * MICAL (distorted): “MICAL to MEETRA,” his voice unusually tight beneath its calm. “There’s been… an unexpected development. The situation is already drawing attention. I think you should see this yourself.” * MEETRA: “Where?” * MICAL: “East Central Courtyard. Now, if you can.” MEETRA ends the transmission, exchanging a brief look with MIRA. * MIRA: “Trouble?” * MEETRA: “On Manaan? Always…” MEETRA moves quickly, boots echoing through the halls of Ahto City as the filtered ocean-light refracts across polished stone. As she nears the courtyard, she hears voices layered with wonder, fear, reverence. A crowd. The East Central Courtyard is already packed. The crowd gathers in a concentric ring, their demeanor agitated and awed. At the center stand three Selkath, bound in vegetation from the deep ocean, their skin marked with age and travel, their posture calm in a way that draws the eye despite the chaos around them. The Force clings to them with a quiet density MEETRA recognizes immediately. MICAL spots her and waves her through, guiding her to his side. <img src="Act1/Manaan1OutOfExile.png" class="png"> * MICAL: “These Selkath appeared without announcement. No official petition or escort, just…arrived. And they speak in a Selkath dialect as if they’ve been gone for centuries. There's something different about them...” Before MEETRA can respond, a line of Selkath guards push into the courtyard, their presence snapping the moment into order. Polite but unyielding, they separate the crowd from the three mysterious Selkath, ushering them away amid a storm of questions and murmurs. One of the Selkath meets MEETRA’s eyes as they’re led off. The Force stirs uneasily in her chest as their eyes connect. [[A Warning->Manaan1Warning]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

MANAAN: A Warning The next day, the Ahto High Court convenes beneath its vaulted, water-veined ceiling. MEETRA and MICAL stand together as observers, the tension in the chamber thick and ceremonial. Before the Council stand the three Selkath from the courtyard. The one in the middle speaks first. <img src="Act1/Manaan1AWarning1.png" class="png"> * MYSTERIOUS SELKATH (resonant, measured): “My name is SHASA. These are KONO and LLUSHO. We return from exile with warning.” They tell their story without embellishment. Long ago, they were deceived into Sith teachings, corrupted into believing against their better judgement. They speak of being broken free by a Jedi who would later be known as a redeemed REVAN, and then of helping drive the Sith influence from Ahto City in the aftermath. The inflection of her words come from survival, of reflection, of growth beyond the strict binaries of Jedi and Sith. * SHASA: “After the city’s freedom, we descended into the deepest reaches of Manaan’s oceans. Into silence. Into listening. We sought not power, but understanding.” She pauses, her tone shifting. “We now return to you, because we now share a foreboding dream.” MEETRA feels it before the words land. Something inside her twists deep. * SHASA: “A sheet of gold, spreading across Manaan. Crawling and smothering, drawing the water out of the world, as one draws juice from fruit. Until nothing remains but darkness. It speaks of an end for the planet. We must find the cause of it, and find a way to stop it.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1AWarning2.png" class="png"> The words hang in the chamber longer than they should. Even the constant susurration of water along the High Court’s walls seems to falter, as if the city itself is listening. A Selkath councilor breaks the silence first, his voice sharp with unease. * 1st SELKATH COUNCILOR: “Your vision is conveniently dire. You speak of annihilation as if it were certainty. Such absolutes are hallmarks of Sith corruption.” A low murmur ripples through the Court. Another councilor leans forward, webbed hands folded. * 2nd SELKATH COUNCILOR: “Three youths return from exile, bearing prophecy rather than evidence. How are we to know these dreams are not remnants of forbidden teachings? Old scars have a way of masquerading as foresight.” * SHASA (unmoving): “We do not claim certainty. Only warning, and our testimony.” * 2nd SELKATH COUNCILOR (coldly): “But warnings shape fear, and fear has guided our people into ruin before.” * 3rd SELKATH COUNCILOR (measured, pointed): “And the timing of this warning is…troubling. Jedi negotiations are underway, discussions of sanctuaries, presence, influence. Now suddenly, a vision that paints Manaan as doomed unless action is taken.” His gaze flicks briefly toward MEETRA and MICAL. “One might suspect provocation.” MEETRA feels the attention settle on her like pressure from deep water. She keeps her expression neutral, hands folded within her sleeves. MICAL steps forward before the silence can harden further. * MICAL (calmly, cooly): “With respect, there is no coordination here. This is the first time either MASTER SURIK or I have encountered these Selkath. We did not summon them. We did not instruct them. Their arrival surprised us as much as it did the Court.” * 2nd SELKATH COUNCILOR (displeased): “What do you say of these lost Selkath, then?” * MICAL: “I speak to what I can sense. And I do not sense manipulation, nor ambition. Their intentions are…earnest. Afraid, yes - but not deceitful.” The chamber stirs again, but the tone shifts. The protests soften, becoming wary rather than hostile. * 4rd SELKATH COUNCILOR (pressing): “You agree with the fear the visions give.” * MICAL (evenly): “Fear does not invalidate truth. It often precedes it.” MEETRA’s focus drifts inward, despite herself. She remembers the Rift…the way the Force thinned and warped there, how the ancient stone structure seemed infected. She remembers standing before the Star Map, its base submerged in a viscous golden substance, translucent and alive, clinging as if it were feeding. It didn’t feel like Sith corruption, she didn’t know what it was. Now on reflection it feels like something older…hungrier…intentional. A sheet. Crawling. Smothering. Her fingers curl slightly at her side. <<set $Manaan1Warning to "unlocked">> [[Alignment->Manaan1Alignment]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

MANAAN: Alignment <img src="Act1/Manaan1Alignment.jpeg" class="png"> The Presiding Chief Justice addresses SHASA finally, moving forward, the light shining on his amphibian face. * DOSHA’VAR (firm): “If your dream is true, or even partially so…then it implies a threat unlike any we have faced. Yet you offer no source. No enemy. Only inevitability.” * SHASA (inclining her head): “The dreams do not reveal names. Only consequences.” * DOSHA’VAR (firm): “That, is precisely what concerns us. Give us a moment to deliberate on this.” The Council withdraws into murmured deliberation, their voices blending into a low, uneasy tide. MEETRA watches them, feeling the weight of something aligning - visions, echoes, warnings converging from different corners of the galaxy. Whatever is coming for Manaan does not announce itself with fleets or banners. And it leaves darkness colder than the depths of the rift. MEETRA exhales slowly, already knowing that this prophecy, whether the Council accepts it or not - has tied Manaan’s fate more closely to her own than anyone in the chamber yet realizes. <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1ForceSen>>* <<link "Align with SHASA and her Companions">><<set $Manaan1ForceSen = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> The chamber settles into uneasy quiet as the last echoes of debate fade into the vaulted ceiling. The Selkath councilors confer in low, overlapping tones, their voices rippling like disturbed currents. MEETRA stands motionless at the center of the hall, hands folded, posture composed, disguising the Force churning softly and insistently inside her. At the appointed time for her voice to be given, she steps forward before the silence can harden into rejection. * MEETRA: “I do not come to you as a prophet,” her voice calm, unraised, carrying without strain. “Nor do I claim certainty. I come as someone who has learned, often painfully, that the Force does not always warn us with clarity.” Several councilors turn toward her, webbed hands tightening. * MEETRA (continuing): “During my short time in the Rift, I felt something there that does not belong to Sith teachings, or to any doctrine I recognize. It was not hatred. It was not ambition. It was consumption.” She pauses, choosing her words with care. “What Shasa describes - the gold, the smothering, the draining of life - it resonates with what I sensed. I cannot prove this connection. But the Force, and my own judgment, tell me the source is the same.” She looks to SHASA and her companions, sharing a gaze. <img src="Act1/Manaan1AlignmentLight.png" class="png"> A deeply unsettled murmur rises. * 2nd SELKATH COUNCILOR: “You ask us to accept fear in place of evidence.” * MEETRA (evenly): “No - I ask you not to dismiss warning simply because it frightens you. You have already authorized research into the Rift. That investigation will either validate these visions, or disprove them. Either outcome serves truth.” * 2nd SELKATH COUNCILOR (lifting his chin): “The Life-Giver remains with us. Since the Hrakert Station crisis, it has shown no signs of danger. Manaan endures.” * MEETRA: “And because it endures, it deserves vigilance. Faith and caution are not enemies.” The council’s attention shifts as MICAL steps forward, his tone respectful but firm. * MICAL:“There may be a path that honors both. Rather than allowing these visions to circulate unchecked, we propose structure, guidance. SHASA and her companions could explore their prophetic experiences within the space the Jedi are establishing here in Ahto City. Openly, transparently, under observation. All things we are working toward already in the space.” * MEETRA (head inclining in agreement): “This would not place them above Selkath authority,” she adds. “Nor would it grant them power. It gives them discerning context, and gives you oversight.” The reaction is immediate and conflicted, as expected. * 4th SELKATH COUNCILOR (protesting): “You would house fear within our own city!” * MICAL: “We would contain it, and learn whether it has substance.” The council withdraws again, their discussion shorter this time, sharper. MEETRA feels the tension like pressure building before a storm. She keeps her gaze steady, even as doubt brushes the edges of her resolve. I hope I am not wrong. I hope I am not mistaking echo for truth. At last, the Council turns back toward the floor, DOSHA’VAR begrudgingly taking his post again. * DOSHA’VAR: “The High Court issues a preliminary judgment - the Selkaths SHASA, KONO, and LLUSHO will be permitted to remain under provisional status. They will explore these visions in coordination with the Jedi enclave space, subject to review and restriction.” The approval lands unevenly, tainted in begrudging caution - but it sustains. * DOSHA’VAR (adding): “This matter is not closed. It is merely…delayed.” The meeting is adjourned shortly after. As guards escort SHASA and the others from the chamber, she meets MEETRA’s eyes once more. There is gratitude there, but also something heavier…expectation. The hall empties slowly. MICAL exhales beside MEETRA, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. * MICAL (quietly, guarded): “Thank you. That could have gone very differently.” * MEETRA (faint smile): “I hope it gives your work room to breathe.” * MICAL: “And you?” Her gaze drifts toward the chamber doors, where the echoes of prophecy still seem to linger. * MEETRA (slowly): “I hope, that what they’ve seen is only a warning…and not a promise.” [[Explore Ahto City->Manaan1Explore]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Don’t Align with SHASA and her companions">><<set $Manaan1ForceSen = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> Waterlight ripples across polished stone as MEETRA steps forward once more, her expression composed, measured…exactly as they expect it to be. Inside, she feels the truth coil tight and patient, held behind her ribs. She does not let it show. * MEETRA (calm, feigning regret): “I share the Council’s concern. Unified dreams are rare, and when they occur, they often point not to prophecy, but to shared influence.” She turns her gaze toward SHASA, not unkind, but distant. “Particularly when past Sith teachings are involved. Fear has a way of synchronizing minds.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1AlignmentDark1.jpeg" class="png"> The words taste particularly wrong in her mouth. MICAL stiffens beside her. He glances at her, confusion flickering across his features…but he does not interrupt. He trusts her. He believes she has a reason. * 3rd SELKATH COUNCILOR (sharply inclining his head): “Then you agree this may be residue of corruption.” * MEETRA (carefully): “I believe it cannot be dismissed, but neither can it be accepted without proof. Dreams alone cannot guide planetary action.” The Court murmurs, the sound forming into a shaky relief. SHASA remains still, unreadable. * DOSHA’VAR (rising): “Then this Court finds no grounds to act upon these claims." He looks directly at the three Selkath force sensitives. "You will not spread these visions further. Should you do so, exile will be reinstated - forcibly, if required.” Silence follows…final and absolute. SHASA bows her head, neither defiant nor broken. When Ahto City dims into evening and the currents outside slow into a deeper, heavier rhythm, MEETRA approaches a modest apartment door. She waits a moment before pressing the chime. SHASA opens it without surprise. * SHASA (observing): “You come alone.” * MEETRA: “Yes. I thought it more…appropriate.” SHASA motions an invitation inside, and MEETRA moves forward, the door sealing behind her with a soft hiss. * MEETRA (carefully): “I’m sorry for how the Council ruled. They would never have accepted something like that. Not from you, or from me. Not even from the Force itself.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1AlignmentDark2.png" class="png"> * SHASA (unfazed): “It matters little what you believe. What we experienced was not a dream. It was a warning. And it comes soon - sooner than you understand.” The words send a quiet chill through MEETRA’s spine. She exhales, letting the mask fall away. * MEETRA (voice lowering): “Then listen to me. I questioned you today, because the Council needed to hear doubt. Not truth. Truth frightens them into paralysis.” SHASA’s eyes narrow slightly. * SHASA (eyes narrowing): “You…believe us.” * MEETRA (without hesitation): “I do. And I am not powerless against what you saw. I have faced Sith who devoured worlds. I am already hunting what comes next - whatever wears a new face and thinks itself unseen.” She steps closer now, the Force stirring faintly between them. “When you dream again, when the vision changes, deepens, sharpens - I want to know. You report to me. Not the Council, or other Jedi. Me.” SHASA studies her for a long moment. The silence stretches, heavy and deliberate. And eventually she inclines her head in agreement. * SHASA: “We will tell you. When the tide shifts. When the color moves.” * MEETRA (nodding once, satisfied): “Thank you.” As she turns to leave, the weight in her chest settles into focus. She walks back into the flowing halls of Ahto City knowing she has just done something dangerous. Not because she silenced a warning…but because she wants to be the only one that hears it. [[Explore Ahto City->Manaan1Explore]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

MANAAN: Stopped <img src="Act1/Manaan1Stopped1.png" class="png"> The walkways of Ahto City shimmer beneath the filtered light of the Manaan’s sky. MEETRA walks beside BAO-DUR toward East Central, her pace steady, her mind already shifting toward departure. They are on their way to MICAL’s office in the Republic zone, one last conversation before they leave Manaan behind. She hadn’t expected to feel reluctance in in this moment. The city feels different today…quieter. Conversations cut short as they pass. Selkath drift in clusters, their tones lower than usual, their movements tighter. Halfway across the elevated causeway, a squad of Ahto City guards steps forward, blocking the path. Their sonic blasters lower in unison, pointed toward MEETRA and BAO-DUR. * SELKATH LEAD GUARD (amplified, formal): “By order of the Ahto City Council, Ahto City is under immediate planetary quarantine. All visitor and non-essential movement is suspended. You are ordered to return to your registered dwelling.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1Stopped2.png" class="png"> * BAO-DUR (blinking): “Quarantine?” His tone is calm, but his mechanical hand flexes. * MEETRA (eyes narrow): “On what grounds?” * SELKATH LEAD GUARD: “Return to your housing immediately.” The word immediately hangs heavier than it should. The Force around the JEDI shift…subtly, tense, compressed. Like breath held too long beneath water… <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1Stopped>> * <<link "Do What The Guards Command">><<set $Manaan1Stopped = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> MEETRA exchanges a glance with BAO-DUR. No argument, no escalation. They nod to the guards, turn, and as they retrace their steps toward the docking district, she feels it - the tightening net of something larger. This is not simple civic precaution. The timing is too precise. They were about to leave the planet…and now the city closes. [[Regroup->Manaan1Regroup]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Attempt To Circumvent The Guard’s Commands">><<set $Manaan1Stopped = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>RESULTDARK [[Regroup->Manaan1Regroup]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

MANAAN: Regroup Inside the EBON HAWK, the crew gathers around the holotable. ATTON leans forward, arms crossed. MIRA stands near the corridor, restless. JOLEE watches quietly from the periphery. T3-M4 projects a faint map of Manaan’s districts, now flashing red with restricted markers. The hologram flickers, and MICAL’s face resolves through the encrypted signal. Behind him, office lights glow in East Central. <img src="Act1/Manaan1Regroup.jpeg" class="png"> * MICAL (voice hushed): “I was just about to call you,” pushing a hand through his hair. “The Council has declared a full planetary quarantine. No ships leave. No ships arrive.” * ATTON (scoffing): “We sneeze in the wrong direction, and the amphibians lock down the planet?” * MICAL (expression flat): “It’s more than that.” He glances aside, listening to something off-screen, a datapad transmission updating in real time. “Local tensions have been escalating. Kolto yields have declined sharply. Isolationist blocs have been gaining influence. The exiled Selkath Force Sensitives returning to the Council unsettled more than a few entrenched voices.” MEETRA listens in silence. She knows that can’t be all of it. * MICAL: “And then…the Council’s research team returned from the Rift.” The air shifts in the ship…MEETRA feels that old familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. * MICAL (continuing): “They confirmed what we discovered, MEETRA. Czerka mercenaries have been falsifying exploratory permits, using them to run illegal deep-sea drilling operations, searching for new kolto deposits beyond authorized zones.” * MIRA (muttering under her breath): “Of course it’s Czerka.” * MICAL (nodding grimly): “The Republic’s pressure hasn’t helped. The reconstruction contracts require a steady kolto supply at previously negotiated rates. The Council has raised prices due to declining output, but the Republic refused, holding to what had been agreed to..” * JOLEE (exhaling): “So the Selkath feel squeezed.” * MICAL: “Yes, and CHIEF JUSTICE DOSHA’VAR has capitalized on that fear.” The name lands like a stone. “DOSHA’VAR pushed for a planetary quarantine - framing it as necessary to contain an existential crisis. With illegal drilling exposed, kolto instability confirmed, and Republic demands escalating, the Council panicked and gave into fear.” He looks directly at MEETRA. “This was already volatile. Now it’s combustible.” The holotable dims slightly as the crew absorbs it, the complicated heaviness of it all sitting on their shoulders. * ATTON (shaking his head): “So this is local AND planetary politics spiraling out of control.” * MICAL (carefully): “Not entirely. The timing is too exact.” He hesitates. “Galactic instability. Force disturbances. Economic strain. The same undercurrents you’re tracking - they’re surfacing here too.” MEETRA feels it then - that subtle, smothering pressure again. Like the Force Distortions elsewhere. Constricting. * MEETRA (quietly): “I can feel it. Something dark…not active, but influencing. Like currents beneath the surface.” * BAO-DUR (nodding): “Small pressures applied at the right fault lines. That’s how collapses start.” * MICAL (voice lowering): “If the same forces you’re hunting are nudging events here…this quarantine may not be about containment.” * JOLEE: “It’s about control.” * MIRA (looking between them): “So what? We’re trapped here while the galaxy moves without us?” The thought irritates MEETRA more than she expects. This mission has already been delayed - rifts, distortions, political entanglements. Now Manaan seals its borders the day they intended to depart. Coincidence feels unlikely. The quarantine turns a local Selkath crisis into a galactic bottleneck. Kolto affects the Republic. The Republic affects the imminent war effort. The war effort affects everything. And now, they are inside it. * MICAL (soft): “I believe this is convergence. Local instability meeting galactic tension. If darker forces are influencing events, they are using existing fractures.” MEETRA closes her eyes briefly. The sensation returns - dark, diffuse, suffocating Something patient. Waiting. This is a moment, maybe the moment. The Force around Manaan feels like deep water under pressure. MEETRA straightens, the eyes of her friends on her, the weight of action pressing against her… * [[Convince the Council of the Coming War->Manaan1QuarCouncil]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> * [[Escape Quarantine->Manaan1QuarEscape]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> * [[Wait Out The Quarantine->Manaan1QuarWait]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> * [[Take Matters Into Your Own Hands->Manaan1QuarMatters]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

MANAAN: Escape Quarantine The quarantine has sealed the planet. The Council has spoken. The doors have closed. Time is slipping. She turns to ATTON and BAO-DUR. * MEETRA (evenly): “If we run it…can we break out?” The question lands like a thermal detonator. ATTON’s brows lift. * ATTON: “You’re serious.” * MEETRA: “Yes.” * BAO-DUR (calculating): “It’s possible,” he says carefully. “Difficult. But possible.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1OwnHands1.png" class="png"> MIRA folds her arms, jaw tightening with something halfway between excitement and dread. * MIRA: “I’m in.” Across the holotable, MICAL stiffens visibly. T3-M4 emits a sharp, alarmed trill. * MICAL (immediate): “This is reckless! The quarantine is lawful under Selkath authority. Violating it will undermine everything we’ve built here.” * MEETRA (calmly): “We built very little, unfortunately. The Council won’t hear us. They’re locking down the planet while something larger moves in the galaxy. Besides, we’ve done this before.” Her mouth corners curve into a sneaky smile, that ATTON echoes. * MICAL (snapping): “That does not justify piracy!” * MEETRA: “It would justify urgency.” T3 chirps insistently, projecting potential legal ramifications, Republic diplomatic fallout, damage to future negotiations. MICAL’s expression hardens. * MICAL: “You would abandon diplomacy for impatience?” * MEETRA (unwavering): “I would abandon stagnation for action.” Silence follows. MICAL looks down, shakes his head, and looks back to MEETRA * MICAL (quietly): “I cannot support this.” The disappointment in his voice carries more weight than anger. “If you do this, you do it without my endorsement.” * MEETRA (nods once): “I understand.” He holds her eyes for a moment longer, searching, perhaps hoping she will reconsider. When she doesn’t, he cuts the holo-connection. From the corner, JOLEE lets out a low, gravelly snort. * MEETRA (muttering): “Well,” leaning on his staff, “nothing says ‘measured Jedi leadership’ like blasting off under quarantine.” His eyes flick to MEETRA. “Just try not to get us all arrested before lunch.” BAO-DUR takes control of the holotable, expands the projection of Ahto City, highlighting the defensive grid around it. * BAO-DUR: “There’s a problem you should know about, with this plan.” Several blue icons flare to life in orbit. “Ahto City’s ion cannons.” * ATTON (smirk fades): “Define problem.” * BAO-DUR (continuing): “They’re not primitive surface batteries. They’re calibrated for anti-ship disabling fire. I can’t spoof our signature through their grid, and I can’t disable them from here.” * MIRA: “How bad?” * BAO-DUR: “If they score a direct hit?” He pauses. “The HAWK won’t recover. We’d drop, hard.” Silence thickens. MEETRA studies the firing arcs. The patrol timing. The slim windows between recalibrations. * ATTON (leaning closer): “Forty percent we punch through before they react.” * BAO-DUR (correcting): “Thirty-five. That’s not encouraging.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1Escape1.png" class="png"> She feels the clock in the Force. Something dark moving. Something accelerating… <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1QuarEscape>>* <<link "Commit To The Escape">><<set $Manaan1QuarEscape = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>The faster they leave, the better their chances of intercepting whatever comes next. * MEETRA (quietly): “It’s better than waiting here.” She lifts her head. “We go.” ATTON slides into the pilot’s seat, breath steady but quick. BAO-DUR routes power from secondary systems into the engines. MIRA locks onto sensor feeds, T3 warbles in anxious protest next to her syncing navigation. * ATTON: “On your mark…” MEETRA steps into the cockpit, hands braced on the console. She takes in a breath. * MEETRA (decisively): “Now.” The EBON HAWK roars to life, repulsors surging. The freighter rockets out of the hangar, skimming low over the waterline before angling skyward. For three heartbeats, they’re clear. Then - Blue light flashes across the horizon. * MIRA (shouting): “Ion cannons firing!” A streak of electric-blue energy claws upward through the sky. ATTON banks hard, the HAWK corkscrewing through vapor and spray. The first shot misses. The second passes close enough to crackle against their shields. * ATTON (yelling): “Almost clear!” Their luck runs out. A searing beam slams into the left engine. The cockpit explodes in sparks. Power dies on half the board. * BAO-DUR (shouting): “We’re hit!” <img src="Act1/Manaan1Escape2.png" class="png"> The HAWK lurches violently, engine screaming before cutting out as it begins to fall. MEETRA directs her crew through actions and stabilization in the Force, but it doesn’t change the impact of the ship slamming into the water with bone-crushing force. The ship rolls against the waves, overturning completely, coming to rest upside down on the surface of the unending ocean Ahto City patrol craft arrive within minutes. Selkath security teams surround the half-submerged freighter, sonic emitters raised. MEETRA knows there’s no fight left to give; they are taken into custody under immediate suspicion of violating quarantine, reckless endangerment, and attempted evasion of planetary authority. They are kept restrained with low-level sonics, enough to confuse them out of planning any real escape attempt again. The promised trial is delayed, as the quarantine complicates everything, deferred until “stability returns.” MICAL declines to intervene. His message is brief - “I cannot defend this choice.” Disappointment, restrained but unmistakable. On the 5th day of the quarantine, MEETRA and the JEDI feel the shift under the water…the Rift fractures, chunks of underground ocean mass exploding outward. Sabotaged infrastructure collapses. Kolto facilities ignite in yellow flame. Panic spreads faster than law enforcement can contain. Through the barred windows, MEETRA feels it, the same suffocating distortion. Dark and smothering, moving freely now. And she can do nothing. Her choices and actions removed the HEROES from the board. [[The End->Devouring3Tsisaarai]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Decide Against The Escape">><<set $Manaan1QuarEscape = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>MEETRA closes her eyes, searches the Force, the flow of the city, the planet…she searches her feelings, the uncertain energy of her trusted friends. She balances them all, and finds the truth. * MEETRA (looking to BAO-DUR): “You’re right. This is too risky. This isn’t the right move.” She sighs. “Let’s find another way to get out of here.” All of the HEROES breathe their own sigh of relief, and look to the holotable again to find the new plan… * [[Convince the Council of the Coming War->Manaan1QuarCouncil]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> * [[Wait Out The Quarantine->Manaan1QuarEscape]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>> * [[Take Matters Into Your Own Hands->Manaan1QuarMatters]] <</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

MANAAN: Convince the Council of the Coming War The quarantine is pressure. Manipulation. They all know that. And if the galaxy truly stands on the brink of war, then Manaan must choose a side, finally. * MEETRA: “Then we convince the Council. Tell them what’s actually going on.” BAO-DUR studies her carefully. MICAL does not hide his concern. * MICAL: “That will not be easy. The Council is already defensive. DOSHA’VAR believes the Republic is exploiting this crisis.” * MEETRA (calmly): “Then we give them something greater to fear than exploitation…the truth.” Ahto City’s domed spires shimmer through the ocean light. The corridors leading to the Council chambers feel colder than usual. Selkath officials move with rigid silence. Armed guards stand closer than protocol requires. MEETRA walks beside MICAL. Neither speak. They know they only have one chance at this. She feels it in the Force - tension layered over tension. Fear beneath diplomacy. Something darker pressing from behind it all. If this fails…they may never get another audience. They walk into the chamber is circular, tiered, immaculately sterile. The water filtration hum fills the silence between footsteps and gentle shuffling. They walk to the central podium, standing behind it, in determined but open posture. The air is thick with suppressive coldness. The Selkath Councilors stand in the pods, their large black eyes reflecting no warmth. DOSHA’VAR presides at the center. His presence is sharp and controlled. KELRU’THEN sits two tiers to the left, posture smaller than usual. * DOSHAVAR: “This meeting has been called at the JEDI’s request, regarding the quarantine, which is already in effect. They seek to negotiate a deal for the Republic’s kolto, which is currently paused during this time.” He gestures to MICAL. “JEDI, you may begin.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1ConvinceCouncil1.jpeg" class="png"> MICAL steps forward, his tone steady and firm. * MICAL: “The quarantine you have enacted is understandable. But its consequences extend beyond Manaan.” A low murmur ripples, and a Councilor snaps at him, hand pointing. * SELKATH COUNCILOR (sharp): “You are not Selkath. You do not govern this world!” * MICAL (agreeing, no reaction): “No, but I understand what isolation costs. And I understand what is coming.” His response is awarded with silence, but he continues. He speaks of kolto decline, of isolationist movements rising among Selkath outcasts, of SHASA’s return and the ideological fracture beneath the surface, all in a respectful and factual tone. The Council doesn’t visibly react to this, the tension remains between the two groups. Seeing this, MICAL pivots to his point. * MICAL: “The Republic purchases kolto not as conquerors, but as partners. Reconstruction across dozens of worlds depends upon your exports. We honor your sovereignty. We align with you, despite your non-membership.” He pauses, weighting his next words. “And, we do not send mercenaries to exploit your oceans.” His gaze shifts deliberately…to KELRU’THEN. The veiled implication is clear. KELRU’THEN stiffens, shrinks DOSHA’VAR’s gaze sharpens, as MICAL presses forward. * MICAL (strong): “The Republic strengthens worlds. The Sith and their proxies undermine them. The mercenaries found in your Rift did not act alone.” He lets that linger, slowly holding gaze with each Council member as he continues. * MICAL (convincing): “Restructure the quarantine. Allow trusted allies - proven allies - to continue operations. Do not allow fear to isolate Manaan at the very moment unity is most critical.” After a moment, he steps back, just as MEETRA steps forward to plead her side of the case. The silence hangs like a blade between them. <img src="Act1/Manaan1ConvinceCouncil2.jpeg" class="png"> * MEETRA (evenly): “The discoveries in the Rift confirm something far worse than corporate exploitation. The Sith are not gone.” Several Councilors shift uneasily. She chooses her words carefully, grounding them. * MEETRA: “They do not conquer openly anymore. They manipulate. They destabilize. They weaken systems before striking. The Republic supports you because your survival strengthens the galaxy. But if my work against this enemy is delayed further…” She lets the thought hang. “…the consequences will not stop at your oceans.” She leans a bit closer, bringing them in. * MEETRA (softer): “This quarantine is wise. Isolation in a volatile moment can prevent chaos.” A subtle shift runs through the Council at that. “I agree with your caution.” That earns attention. “But do not confuse caution with paralysis.” She meets DOSHA’VAR’s gaze directly. * MEETRA: “You are facing an existential crisis. So is the Republic. Separately or unified, we face it together.” In the Force, she feels it again…that smothering pressure. Dark, calculated, like the Distortions. This situation feels…nudged now. Escalated. She doesn’t signal it, but she knows MICAL feels it too. MICAL steps forward again, aligning with MEETRA, closing out their plea. * MICAL: “The Republic must continue its contracted kolto supply. At agreed terms. Not coercion. Not inflation born of fear.” He straightens. “And the Jedi must depart Manaan immediately to confront this greater threat.” He inclines his head respectfully. “Manaan remains under quarantine. That is prudent. But do not sever your strongest alliance in the name of pride.” He steps back, and the absence of his words sink into the weighted silence. After a few moments, DOSHA’VAR steps forward. * DOSHA’VAR (stiff): “Your request exceeds—” - a diplomatic Selkath voice unexpectedly interrupts - * KELRU’THEN (measured): “CHIEF JUSTICE…there is merit in some of what the JEDI state.” Every head in the chamber turns. * KELRU’THEN: “The Czerka violations demand correction. But the Republic has not acted against us as aggressors.” A ripple of unrest spreads across the chamber. * DOSHA’VAR (expression hardened): “Recess.” The Council withdraws to private deliberation, and the inner chamber doors seal As they wait, the silence in the chamber is suffocating. The Force is shifting. Something is happening, like breath moving in lungs, or released. She feels the dark undercurrent again, smothering, watching… * MICAL (exhaling slowly): “That was…less disastrous than expected.” MEETRA does not smile. After a moment, he looks over to her. * MICAL (quietly): “They’re being influenced.” * MEETRA: “Yes.” The same sensation as the Force Distortions. A pressure on the galaxy. A push toward fracture. MICAL meets her eyes. * MICAL: “What do we do if they refuse?” MEETRA turns, holding his gaze. Then looks toward the sealed chamber doors. * MEETRA: “We prepare for both outcomes.” Behind those doors, Manaan decides whether it stands with the Republic…or isolates itself just as the war begins. And for the first time since arriving on Manaan, MEETRA feels something heavier than doubt…time. They’re running out of it. [[The Council's Decision->Manaan1QuarCouncilDecision]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

MANAAN: Take Matters Into Your Own Hands The decision does not come quickly, or easily in the moment. But it settles into MEETRA like a stone falling into a black hole. Time is the enemy now. * MEETRA (evenly): “I think I know what’s causing this. Give me time.” * MICAL (studying her carefully): “What does that mean?” * MICAL: “It means,” already pulling her hood up over her head, “trust me.” She leaves before anyone can stop her. The HAWK’s ramp hisses shut behind her. Silence follows in the main hold. JOLEE exhales through his nose. * JOLEE: “Well, that’s either going to solve our problem…or create a new one.” No one laughs. The next day, the holotable alerts the crew awake, back into the main hold. MICAL is on the other end of the alert, urgency in his eyes * MICAL: “Something terrible has happened…DOSHA’VAR was found dead this morning.” The words hang in the air like frost. * MICAL: “No wounds. No toxins. No forced entry. The medical staff report sudden systemic collapse. No cause.” Around the room, subtle glances shift…toward MEETRA. Their veiled gazes press against her, asking unspoken questions. After a moment, she lifts her eyes, to all of them <img src="Act1/Manaan1OwnHands1.png" class="png"> * MEETRA (steady): “This was not me. I had nothing to do with this.” MIRA’s jaw tightens slightly. BAO-DUR’s gaze narrows, analytical. T3 emits a faint, uncertain warble. MICAL searches her face. * MICAL: “Where were you yesterday?” * MEETRA: “The east side of the city. The old Sith base. I wanted to confirm it was fully defunct.” * MICAL (inquisitive): “It was?” * MEETRA: “Yes. I didn’t find traces of activity or disturbances. It looked like I was the first visitor there in a while.” Something unspoken still lingers in the room. No one presses her further. But no one fully believes her either. They don’t say anything, they hold their tongue out of respect and loyalty. But they can’t avoid its questionable existence. Later that day, the Selkath Council announces a temporary adjustment: with DOSHA’VAR gone, internal stabilization requires flexibility. High-value individuals, ambassadors, official representatives - all may choose to schedule meetings or leave off-world. The quarantine has loosened - slightly. And thanks to BASTILA’s preparation…MEETRA’s Republic representative clearance qualifies. The coincidence is surgical. As MEETRA walks through the corridor of Ahto City’s Port Authority with clearance codes secured, her steps slow down in rhythm, until they stop…with ATTON standing a few meters in front of her, standing in the middle of the way. Waiting. <img src="Act1/Manaan1OwnHands2.png" class="png"> * ATTON (lightly): “You move fast.” She tilts her head, feigning mild confusion. * MEETRA: “I secured departure authorization. With the authorization coming from Republic military and senate signatures, it wasn’t much of a problem.” She moves to pull the datapad, holding it for his examination. He doesn’t look at it, locking eyes with her, before looking off into the distance. * ATTON (low, quiet): “You forgot something.” Her fingers shake a little. * ATTON: “The armband.” Clammy sweat breaks out in her hands, her feet, her body. * ATTON (sharp): “The one with the tracker we slipped into it a while ago. For emergencies.” The world around MEETRA narrows as she freezes. Her thoughts race around in a futile attempt to find innocent reason for his concern, as her mind becomes paralyzed in fear. Her breath is thin, feeling like it comes in and out in spiderwebs. Her Wound feels incredibly hollow, like it’s losing adhesiveness from her chest. Silence stretches between them. He stands relaxed, she stands stiff. Both right hands resting at their sides, in close enough proximity to react. ATTON continues to study her carefully. * ATTON (quiet, elusive): “There probably wasn’t an easier way off this rock. I get that.” His voice hardens slightly. “But that doesn’t make it right.” Her eyes sharpen into intensity, conflicted but calculating. What would she have to do to silence this? The thought flickers, dark and fast. She hates that it flickers at all, especially for him.. ATTON watches the shift, recognizing it. He takes a moment, exhales, and chooses to lean against the wall, crossing his arms stiffly. * ATTON: “So...how’d you do it?” <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Manaan1QuarMatters>>* <<link "Tell ATTON the Truth">><<set $Manaan1 = 'MattersTruth'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>Reluctance is all she feels now…but for him, she answers <img src="Act1/Manaan1OwnHands2Truth.jpeg" class="png"> * MEETRA (cryptically, guarded): “After exploring the east side…I was…” She pauses, searching for strength, and the few amount of words that would give him the idea. ”...I found a…way…with the Distortions, if they linger. They can…be directed, through my Wound.” The delivery and implication cause the understanding to land slowly. ATTON’s eyes widen. * ATTON: “You’re telling me you- ” * MEETRA (cutting, quiet): “I was nowhere near it. Nothing physical. Nothing traceable.” Her reassurance sounds almost clinical. ATTON closes his eyes briefly. Frustration wars with something else. Memory. He opens them again. * ATTON (quietly): “You know the things I’ve done. The interrogations. The executions. The ugly parts.” She says nothing. * ATTON (looking at her): “You didn’t destroy me for it.” The tension in her shoulders eases, slightly. He steps closer, enough to communicate his honesty. * ATTON (voice low): “Next time, when you’re about to do something that risky…” He pauses, bringing his voice even lower. “…maybe let me in on it.” His gaze is steady, locked on her. “So it’s as untraceable as you want it to be.” His forgiveness comes in a future implication of a dark partnership. Complicity. She holds his gaze. Then nods once, stoic. Uncertain and afraid of him now, but grateful. They turn without another word, down the corridor. <img src="Act1/Manaan1Depart.png" class="png"> The EBON HAWK lifts from the docking platform shortly after. Behind them, Manaan stabilizes under new council leadership, unaware of the invisible violence that shifted its political axis. The stars elongate into white lines, and Manaan vanishes. In the Force, MEETRA feels it. The dark current inside her has deepened. Not enough to consume, but enough for her to notice. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders whether the enemy she hunts would approve of what she has just done. [[Leave Manaan for Good->EbonHawk1.2]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Tell ATTON Nothing">><<set $Manaan1QuarMatters = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>She tilts her head slightly, almost amused. * MEETRA (flat): “I don’t know what you mean.” * ATTON (sharp):* “Don’t. The tracker traced your movements perfectly. You made a private stop after the Sith base.” He knows. Silence stretches between them. * ATTON (annoyed): “How, did you do it?” Her expression shifts into something more cold and controlled. <img src="Act1/Manaan1OwnHands2Dark.png" class="png"> * MEETRA: “You don’t need to know.” * ATTON (jaw tight): “Don’t do that.” he warns. “Don’t go mysterious and superior on me.” She steps past him. He blocks her path. * ATTON (whispering): “I know you killed him.” The accusation is quiet, direct, and heavy. Her eyes sharpen. * MEETRA (hushed): “You’re assuming facts you can’t prove.” * ATTON (pointed): “And you’re not denying it.” * MEETRA (sharp): “I am denying your right to question me.” ATTON’s posture changes from cautiously casual, to threatening. His hands lower, near his saber. * ATTON (pointed): “You don’t get to hide from me.” His voice hardens. “You don’t get to become what we’ve fought.” He’ll expose you. He’ll ruin everything. He doesn’t understand what you saved. Her heartbeat spikes, and the Wound answers, triggered by her distress, tearing out. The air around them warps. * ATTON (stuttering): “What—” His knees buckle slightly. A hollow and hungry pressure floods the corridor. MEETRA isn’t thinking anymore…she’s giving into instinct, which gives into reaction, survival. The Wound begins to pull…life, heat, presence…ATTON gasps, clutching at his chest. His strength bleeds out of him in a slow, horrifying drain. <img src="Act1/Manaan1OwnHands2Dark2.png" class="png"> * ATTON (stuttering): “MEETRA- ” His voice cracks. “Stop- ” She doesn’t hear him clearly, because everything feels distant, muted. Like Malachor, again. The Wound is awakening the old darkness in her again, this time it’s because of him… The drain intensifies. ATTON’s vision blurs. His fingers scrape uselessly against the wall. He is being consumed. * ATTON (choking): “Please- ” The corridor lights flicker, energy distortions spike across Ahto City’s monitoring grid. Sonic emitters scream down the corridor. High-frequency bursts slam into MEETRA’s nervous system. Her Wound shatters outward, destabilized. Selkath guards rush in formation, weapons raised, alerted to the corridor attack by the cameras. Another sonic pulse hits, and her body convulses, dropping the drain. ATTON collapses, barely conscious. MEETRA staggers backward into the curved wall, eyes unfocused, hands trembling. Another blast. The sonic waves disrupt her connection, and her body finally gives out. <img src="Act1/Manaan1OwnHands2Dark3.png" class="png"> When she fades in and out of consciousness, she is kept restrained with low-level sonics, enough to confuse her out of planning any real escape attempt again. At some point after her capture, MEETRA feels the shift under the water…the Rift fractures, chunks of underground ocean mass exploding outward. Sabotaged infrastructure collapses. Kolto facilities ignite in yellow flame. Panic spreads faster than law enforcement can contain. Through the barred windows, MEETRA feels it, the same suffocating distortion. Dark and smothering, moving freely now. And she can do nothing. Her choices and actions removed herself and the JEDI from the counterattack. [[The End->Devouring3Tsisaarai]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

MANAAN: The Council's Decision When the doors finally part, the Selkath return in silent formation. Their hover-pods settle into place with controlled precision. The atmosphere feels colder than before, now resolved. * DOSHA’VAR (calculated): “The Ahto City Council has deliberated.” The chamber holds its breath. <img src="Act1/Manaan1CouncilDecision.jpeg" class="png"> * DOSHA’VAR: “Manaan will continue to supply kolto to the Republic…” A ripple of restrained relief passes through MEETRA, but she does not allow it to reach her face. * DOSHA’VAR (continuing): “...at eighty percent of the previously agreed contract volume, and at the established price. This adjustment will remain in effect until the Rift has been stabilized and healed. Until such time, Manaan will retain full quarantine status.” The compromise is firm, protecting Manaan’s sovereignty and the Council’s decision. * MICAL (evenly): “On behalf of the Republic, I accept these terms.” MEETRA glances at him - brief, surprised admiration flickering behind her composure. He commits before the Council can reconsider. Before pride complicates progress. DOSHA’VAR inclines his head slightly, acknowledging the efficiency. * DOSHA’VAR: “There is a second condition.” The temperature in the room seems to drop further, again. * DOSHA’VAR: “All Jedi must depart Manaan immediately. Upon conclusion of this session.” The words land firmly. “Discussion of a permanent Jedi Enclave within Ahto City may resume when the quarantine is lifted. That time remains…undetermined.” The message is clear. Leave, now. The work unfinished, the enclave suspended, the fragile trust halted at its threshold. MICAL’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. * MICAL (neutrally): “We understand.” MEETRA inclines her head as well. “We will depart at once.” DOSHA’VAR studies the JEDI a moment longer, as though measuring whether this concession costs them more than he expected. It does, but not in ways he can see. * MEETRA (lifting her gaze): “What of SHASA and the Selkath who have studied with us?” A low murmur ripples through the Council tiers. Quiet exchanges pass in the Selkath tongue. After a moment, DOSHA’VAR responds. * DOSHA’VAR: “If SHASA and her associates choose to depart with the Jedi, they may do so.” A subtle shift in the chamber. “This will serve as…accommodation for the temporary suspension of your enclave activities.” It is a consolation. A controlled one. * MEETRA (bows her head): “We are grateful.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1CouncilDecision2.jpeg" class="png"> More brief procedural clarifications follow - logistics, transit clearances, documentation. Formalities to preserve dignity on all sides. At last, agreement for stability settles…for now. Departing Manaan The EBON HAWK prepares quietly in the docking bay, supplies being loaded quickly by MIRA. SHASA and her small group stand together near the ramp, uncertain but resolute. On the edge of the hangar entry, MICAL and MEETRA overlook the bustle of the bay, covered by the expanse of the open blue sky. It feels like the ocean below them is holding its breath for what comes next. <img src="Act1/Manaan1Departing.png" class="png"> * MICAL: “It could have gone worse.” * MEETRA: “It almost did.” She folds her arms loosely, eyes tracing the rippling ocean beyond the transparisteel. They accomplished something. Czerka was exposed. Kolto was secured. Isolation was tempered. But what lies beneath it all, troubles her more than any political tension. * MEETRA (quietly): “The Rift. The drilling. The timing. The Republic pressure. DOSHA’VAR’s urgency…” * MICAL (finishing): “...it converged too cleanly.” * MEETRA (nodding): “And the Distortion.” Neither needs to describe it, they both felt it. * MICAL (slow exhale): “We made progress. But what we uncovered…” He pauses. “It feels like we brushed against something larger.” * MEETRA: “Something watching.” The word hangs between them. MICAL studies her expression. * MICAL (slow exhale): “We need answers before those questions fade. Before the trail cools.” She agrees. If they wait too long, the galaxy will convince itself this was coincidence. Economic miscalculation. Corporate greed. * MEETRA: “What will you do with SHASA and the others?” she asks. * MICAL (slow exhale): “I’ll take them to Tython. If the planet accepts them.” A faint, almost wistful smile touches his face. “There are freshwater basins near the southern plateaus. Quiet and isolated. I think they would enjoy them.” MEETRA can almost picture it - Selkath gliding through clear mountain lakes beneath alien skies. A new beginning. She hopes Tython responds gently. Silence settles again. Their thoughts drift back to their visions, to the pressure. To the sense of something testing the galaxy’s edges. * MICAL (voice lowered): “Do you think he is involved in this?” He doesn’t say his name, out of unspoken care for her. The question presses harder than he intends. MEETRA’s expression stills. She feels for Revan's in the Force, the familiar absence. The distance that has defined years. * MEETRA: “I don’t know,” she says at last. “If he is involved… it would not be to cause this.” Her voice softens. “But whether he’s fighting it… or chasing it… I can’t feel.” MICAL nods slowly. Neither comforted, nor alarmed. Just uncertain. Outside, docking sirens sound the final departure clearance. * MEETRA (straightens): “Then we move.” As they step toward the corridor, she feels the ocean one last time through the Force. It’s vast, deep, unknowable…like the enemy gathering beyond the horizon. The week on Manaan confirmed terrible clarity: the war is no longer theoretical…it’s already in motion. <<set $Manaan1 to "Unlocked">> [[Leave Manaan for Good->EbonHawk1.2]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

MANAAN: Wait Out The Quarantine Everyone feels it - the pull to act, to follow the threads of Czerka, to pursue the dark current. But MEETRA…chooses something else. * MEETRA (eyes distant): “We wait.” The word lands wrong. * ATTON (blinking): “Wait.” * MIRA (straightening): “I thought you just convinced the Council not to isolate itself, in the middle of a crisis.” <img src="Act1/Manaan1OwnHands1.png" class="png"> * BAO-DUR (frowning):“General, the longer we delay, the colder the trail becomes…” * MICAL: “...You believe something is about to happen.” It’s not a question. * MEETRA (gaze lifts): “Wisdom teaches caution. We acted inside the Council chamber. We stabilized what we could.” She feels the Force here…unsettled, but not striking. “The next move won’t be ours.” * ATTON (exhaling sharply): “You think the Sith are going to send us an invitation?” * MEETRA (calmly): “No, I think they’re going to escalate. Here, on Manaan. If this is manipulation, then reacting blindly plays into it. Let the next event reveal their actual intention.” * BAO-DUR (studying her face): “You’re trying to identify pattern.” MEETRA nods in the affirmative * MICAL: “But if that pattern includes suffering?” * MEETRA (jaw tightening): “It likely already does.” Her old wound in the Force taught her the cost of acting without clarity. She will not be rushed into another blind strike. * MIRA: “You’re betting that patience will expose them. What if it doesn’t?” MEETRA doesn’t answer immediately. Because she doesn’t know. But she feels something coiling, waiting for…something. * MEETRA (carefully): “If we move too soon, we reveal what we know. We reveal how we’re searching. If we wait… they may show us more. If they think we’re blind, they may move more openly.” The memory of the Force Distortion presses at the edges of her thoughts, like echolocation. Like something testing the density of resistance. Reluctantly, one by one, they nod. MIRA turns away first, muttering under her breath. BAO-DUR begins recalibrating sensors. ATTON drops into the pilot’s chair with a frustrated sigh, fingers drumming against inactive controls. MICAL stays on the holocomm. MICAL remains connected, looking at MEETRA. * MICAL (softly): “You’re certain?” * MEETRA: “No. But our next move won’t be made in fear, when that’s what’s causing all of this.” He studies her for a long moment. * MICAL: “I hope you’re right.” Days pass. No new Distortions, no obvious escalation. Reports from other worlds describe tension, but no overt strike. Impatience grows among the HEROES, trying to avoid the doubts that whisper. In her meditations, MEETRA feels the Force aligning. She seeks out the path, the source…but it comes too late for her. The source, the cause of all this is far beyond Manaan, far beyond sensors and meditation…far beyond her reach. And in choosing to wait, she has allowed the unseen hand guiding events to move, unrestrained. On the 5th day of the quarantine, MEETRA and the JEDI feel the shift under the water…the Rift fractures, chunks of underground ocean mass exploding outward. Sabotaged infrastructure collapses. Kolto facilities ignite in yellow flame. Panic spreads faster than law enforcement can contain. Through the hangar bay, MEETRA feels it, the same suffocating distortion. Dark and smothering, moving freely now. And she can do nothing. Her choices and actions removed the HEROES from the board. [[The End->Devouring3Tsisaarai]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

TELOS IV <img src="Act1/Telos1Arrival.png" class="png"> The blue-green sphere of Telos IV fills the viewport, as the EBON HAWK drops from hyperspace, its hull catching the faint shimmer of the system’s distant sun. The planet turns slowly beneath them: oceans glinting, continents threaded with pale lines of reclamation grids and newly grown forest canopies. More than a decade ago, Telos was decimated by Darth Malak’s brutal attack, but from orbit it looks like something that’s remembered how to breathe again. MEETRA stands behind the pilot’s chair, hands resting lightly on the back of it. She doesn’t speak at first. She watches the planet rotate beneath them, feeling for distortions…but finds none. The Force here is bruised, but steady. ATTON adjusts their approach vector, guiding the HAWK toward the silver arc of Citadel Station, as he turns on the comms. * ATTON (casual, precise): “CITADEL CONTROL, this is freighter EBON HAWK requesting docking clearance.” Static crackles, then resolves into a familiar bureaucratic cadence. * CITADEL CONTROL: “EBON HAWK, your transponder checks out. You are cleared for Docking Bay Two. Welcome back to Telos.” The HAWK banks gently, aligning with the station’s rotating mass. The structure is exactly as MEETRA remembers - long docking arms, reinforced transparisteel corridors, the steady pulse of industrial lighting along its spine. Citadel Station hasn’t changed much. As they glide inward, MEETRA steps closer to the comm panel. <img src="Act1/Telos1Arrival2.png" class="png"> * MEETRA: “Citadel Control, is Lieutenant Grenn on station?” A short pause, with keys tapping in the background. * CITADEL CONTROL: “Negative, JEDI SURIK. Lieutenant Gren is currently offworld on inspection detail.” The tone shifts, warming slightly. “You’ll want to speak with Sergeant Rhyssa Vale, she’s acting command.” Another beat of silence, then - almost as an afterthought: “And…for what it’s worth, the Jedi are always welcome here. After the last Sith attack, Telos hasn’t forgotten what you did for us.” The words are simple. Procedural. But they land harder than expected. MEETRA feels something inside her loosen, slightly. Acceptance is not something she expects anymore. Even at the point of entry, Telos honors the good of the Jedi. * MEETRA (nodding): “Understood. Thank you.” The docking clamps engage with a muted thud, and the HAWK settles into Bay Two. The ramp lowers with a familiar hiss. <img src="Act1/Telos1Arrival3.png" class="png"> BAO-DUR steps down first, as he often does here. His boots touch the deck plating of Citadel Station, turning around and walking toward the docking port. Pride rests behind his reserved expression. Through the bay’s open viewports, the planet hangs below them, moving in a way it once was not. The restoration grids are no longer harsh scars. They blend into green corridors. Coastal zones that were once ash now shimmer with engineered reef systems. Atmospheric stabilizers are fewer, their work integrated into natural cycles. Telos is no longer being forced to live. BAO-DUR doesn't say it aloud, but MEETRA feels it in him: this is what redemption looks like when it takes root. He gestures subtly toward the viewport as ATTON and MIRA join them. * BAO-DUR: “Surface sectors three and five are fully stabilized now. Ithorian projections were conservative.” * MIRA (walking up to them): “Not bad for a planet face that was rubble.” T3-M4 chirps approvingly, dome swiveling as if cataloguing the improvements for himself. JOLEE steps down last, staff tapping lightly against the deck. He glances at the world below, then at BAO-DUR. * JOLEE: “Looks like you did more than patch up a wound, son.” BAO-DUR inclines his head, modest but unable to hide the satisfaction. * BAO-DUR: “It’s ahead of schedule, even by my expectations” The corridors beyond the docking bay are unchanged. Same industrial gray walls. Same Republic insignias bolted above security checkpoints. Same hum of ventilation systems and distant transit trams. The lighting flickers in the same places it flickered six years ago. Even the faint scent of recycled air is identical. MEETRA steps fully onto the station floor. The weight of memory settles over her. This is where she once stood in uncertainty, under suspicion, carrying the label of exile. Now, she returns differently. She draws a slow breath and straightens. Acceptance lingers faintly in her chest. She does not let it slip away. * MEETRA: “Let’s find Sergeant Vale.” <<set $Telos1Arrival to "unlocked">> [[Sergent Vale->Telos1Vale]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

TELOS IV: Vale Through the corridors of Citadel Station, security checkpoints, and a still-annoying TSF protocol droid, the HEROES are able to meet SERGEANT RHYSSA VALE, who stands up from behind her central desk - uniform crisp, posture exact, datapad already in hand as if she has been expecting them down to the second. She is younger than MEETRA anticipates, but her eyes are sharp and searching. <img src="Act1/Telos1Vale.jpeg" class="png"> * VALE (formal, measured): “JEDI SURIK” stepping forward. “It’s an honor. Lieutenant Grenn speaks highly of you. And of you as well, SPECIALIST BAO-DUR…” As VALE continues the introductions with the rest of the HEROES, MEETRA studies VALE. The tension in the set of her shoulders. Too many responsibilities, not enough officers. Citadel Station still runs lean. * VALE (factual): “...the station wouldn’t be here if not for you and the Jedi.” A small pause. “Telos hasn’t forgotten.” * MEETRA (nodding): “I’m here under clearance from AMBASSADOR BASTILA SHAN and ADMIRAL ONASI. We’re investigating the galaxy-wide distortions that occurred recently, through the Force.” VALE’s expression sharpens. She gestures to a nearby console, fingers moving quickly. * VALE: “Yes, clearance is confirmed. Republic representative authority. We experienced something similar here. Several station residents reported disturbances, disorientation, night terrors. Some station equipment fluctuations with no mechanical cause.” MEETRA feels the thread tighten. * MEETRA: “Locations?” * VALE: “Yes,” assembling data. “Residential Modules, mostly.” She compiles a list, transferring it to MEETRA’s datapad. “Names and locations.” * MEETRA (respectful smile): “Thank you, SERGEANT.” * VALE (inclining her head): “If there’s a threat to Telos, we want it found.” Her gaze shifts to BAO-DUR. “Will you be inspecting surface operations while you’re here, SPECIALIST?” There is something almost hopeful in the question. * BAO-DUR (nodding, glancing to MEETRA): “With the General’s permission.” * MEETRA (nods): “Yes, we should.” A thin measure of relief crosses VALE’s face, before discipline reclaims it. * VALE: “Good. We’ve had irregularities in a few atmospheric stabilizers and energy relays. Nothing critical yet. But, unusual.” She hesitates. “CHODO HABAT’s herd is on the surface investigating.” The name lands steady in MEETRA’s thoughts. CHODO and his Ithorians have always listened closely to Telos’ wounds. * BAO-DUR: “We’ll coordinate.” * MEETRA: “Your cooperation is appreciated, Sergeant.” * VALE (straightens slightly): “Telos stands with the Republic. And welcomes Jedi support.” MEETRA holds her gaze for a moment, sensing the weight VALE carries…and the resolve beneath it. She trades final nods with VALE, and the HEROES turn back toward the corridor, the station’s steady hum following them. <<set $Telos1Explore to "unlocked">> [[Explore Telos IV->Telos1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

TELOS IV: Explore <img src="Act1/Telos1Explore.png" class="png"> * <<if !$Telos1BAODUR>>[[Restoration Efforts:->Telos1Restoration]] Travel to Telos' surface to help BAO-DUR's efforts.<<elseif $Telos1BAODUR is "Light">>Assist BAO-DUR: The planetary shields are repaired and working again.<<elseif $Telos1BAODUR is "Dark">>Assist BAO-DUR: The planetary shields need more repairs.<</if>> * <<if $Telos1BAODUR>>[[Bumani Exchange:->Telos1Bumani]] Stop the local thugs from further sabotaging the Restoration Project. <<if $Telos1Keth is "Neutral">>Bumani Exchange: TSF is processing KAEL and the Bumani mercs. <<elseif $Telos1Keth is "Light">>Bumani Exchange: KAEL has been talked down, TSF is processing KAEL and the Bumani mercs. <<elseif $Telos1Keth is "Dark">>Bumani Exchange: KAEL and the Bumani mercs are no longer a problem.<</if>><</if>> * <<if !$Telos1Meditations>>[[Echoes of Atris:->Telos1EchoAtris]] Look for possible Force Distortions in the abandoned Jedi Academy.<<elseif $Telos1Meditations is "Dark">>Echoes of Atris: The Sith Holocrons have been destroyed, but at an unknown cost...<<elseif $Telos1Meditations is "Light">>Echoes of Atris: The Sith Holocrons have been destroyed.<</if>> * <<if !$Telos1Arin>>[[Distortion Victims:->Telos1DistVic]] Seek out beings affected by the Force Distortions.<<elseif $Telos1Arin is "Light">>Distortion Victims: ARIN DERAS is to be a Jedi Padawan.<<elseif $Telos1Arin is "Dark">>Distortion Victims: ARIN DERAS is to be a Jedi Padawan.<<elseif $Telos1Arin is "Denied">>Distortion Victims: The beings affected by the Distortions are accounted for and have been counseled.<</if>> [[Leave Telos IV->EbonHawk1.2]]

TELOS IV: Restoration Efforts The EBON HAWK slips free of Citadel Station’s dock and angles toward the surface of Telos IV, clouds parting beneath its descent vector. Sunlight fractures across newly grown forest canopies and glints along the faint lattice of restoration grids stitched into the terrain. ATTON leans back in the pilot’s seat, hands light on the controls. <img src="Act1/Telos1RestoEff.png" class="png"> * ATTON (muttering): “Nice and smooth…pretty confident we’re not crash-landing this time.” T3-M4 chirps skeptically. MEETRA allows herself the smallest breath of amusement. The last time they descended here, the planet felt like nothing but a wound. Now it’s still fragile, but no longer broken. They settle near one of the Restoration Zone outposts: modular structures anchored against wind, energy conduits running outward like veins across the soil. Ithorian engineers move with deliberate grace among humming stabilizers. At the center stands CHODO HABAT, tall and composed, his herd engaged in quiet diagnostics. <img src="Act1/Telos1RestoEff2.png" class="png"> BAO-DUR steps forward before the ramp fully settles, locked into his focus. He kneels beside an exposed relay node, mechanical arm interfacing smoothly with a panel of fluctuating indicators. * BAO-DUR (observing): “Energy distribution is lagging along the eastern grid. Signal degradation. Not structural….” MEETRA watches BAO-DUR work. This is his battlefield - circuits instead of soldiers, stabilizers instead of weapons. She feels the steadiness in him, the pride he does not voice. Telos is continuing proof that something born in destruction can be redeemed again. As BAO-DUR isolates the fault, MEETRA realizes there is time to walk. To observe. To feel the land beneath her boots… * [[Speak with Chodo Habat->Telos1Chodo]] * [[Meditate on Telos' Surface->Telos1Meditate]] * <<if !$Telos1BAODUR>>[[Assist Bao-Dur->Telos1BAODUR]]<<elseif $Telos1BAODUR is "Light">>Assist BAO-DUR: The planetary shields are repaired and working again.<<elseif $Telos1BAODUR is "Dark">>Assist BAO-DUR: The planetary shields need more repairs.<</if>> [[Back to Citadel Station->Telos1Explore]]

TELOS IV: Bumani Exchange When they come back from Telos’ surface, the corridors of Citadel Station feel tighter than before. With the knowledge that the Bumani Exchange Corporation is sabotaging the planetary shield, the HEROES seek out anyone involved in the group. Since MEETRA broke its backbone years ago, the mercenaries of Bumani fester in forgotten maintenance shafts and abandoned residential tiers - quiet sabotage dressed as “private security.” The HEROES split into pairs without ceremony. BAO-DUR and T3-M4 descend into power conduits and shield control nodes, tracing illicit taps and slicing encrypted comm traffic. ATTON and JOLEE sweep docking bays and cargo holds, peeling back false manifests and cornering smugglers who swear they’re “just contractors.” Each confrontation ends the same way: weapons confiscated, wrists bound, the TSF notified. The Jedi bring order, methodical and unglamorous. <img src="Act1/Telos1Bumani2.png" class="png"> MEETRA, paired with MIRA, walk through a dim residential block long slated for refurbishment. The Force prickles with concealed intent. They find the first cache behind a false wall panel: blasters, shield disruptors, stolen grid regulators stamped with Restoration serial codes. Three Bumani mercenaries come around the corner, weapons drawn. MIRA’s viridian blade snaps to life with a satisfied hum. * BUMANI MERC (yelling): “Private security! Hands up!” * MIRA (humored): “Really? For who, the next revolution?” deflecting a bolt into the ceiling. <img src="Act1/Telos1Bumani1.png" class="png"> MEETRA moves without wasted motion. Cyan light arcs once, twice, disarming, disabling. She feels no discipline in them, only hired aggression and borrowed rhetoric. When they’re down, she signals TSF. Another pocket excised. The pattern repeats across sectors. Exchange men in utility jackets whisper about “strength” and “real protection,” as if the words excuse siphoning shield power and hoarding arms. The station breathes easier with each arrest. Thanks to T3-M4 flooding Bumani comms with looping false alerts, no warning reaches their leader. MIRA plants the charge on the doors and steps back. * MIRA (grinning): “Knock, knock!” The door detonates inward. Smoke rolls across polished floors as all six HEROES step through in formation, weapons ready. BAO-DUR moves to the front, mechanical hand humming faintly, pointing decisively at the figure in front of him. <img src="Act1/Telos1Bumani3.png" class="png"> * BAO-DUR (eyes narrowed): “ZEVRAXX KETH! Your days of stealing what rightfully belongs to Telos end now. Hands where I can see them.” [[Zevraxx Keth->Telos1Keth]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

TELOS IV: Echoes of Atris MEETRA sits in the Port Dormitory of the EBON HAWK, pondering her own thoughts. Telos is healing, she has seen it with her own eyes. But beneath that renewal, something pulls…a crooked misalignment she first felt when her boots touched the planet’s surface. She’s been turning the feeling over for hours, unsure if she wants to pursue it…because she knows that it probably leads to the abandoned Jedi Academy, Atris’ secret refuge…a place of judgment, of betrayal, exile. All MEETRA feels of that place is dark pride and isolation. But…if distortions are gathering anywhere on Telos IV, it would be there. Practicality trumps avoidance. She walks into the main hold. BAO-DUR is at the security terminal, checking on readouts. JOLEE is to the other side, minding his own as usual. She approaches the Zabrack. * MEETRA (restrained): “BAO, I’m going north. I need to be sure the Distortions aren’t coming from the old Academy.” * BAO-DUR (nodding, empathetic): “Let me come with you. That place shouldn’t be traveled alone.” Quiet gratitude reaches MEETRA’s face. She smiles at BAO-DUR, acknowledging with a nod. <img src="Act1/Telos1Echoes.png" class="png"> JOLEE, on the other side of the room, perks up, rising from his chair. * JOLEE (smirking): “Old academy, eh? This wouldn’t happen to be the one set up by that stiff-necked icicle of a woman, would it?” MEETRA smiles back at him. Of course JOLEE knows, even though they’ve never spoken of her history here. * MEETRA: “Yes. I would welcome you joining me too, JOLEE.” * JOLEE (coming alongside): “Don’t worry, I’ve gotten good at navigating bad decisions in my old age.” [[The Abandoned Academy->Telos1Academy]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

TELOS IV: Distortion Victims <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> At MEETRA’s direction, the names SERGEANT VALE provided are divided among the JEDI. The list is longer than MEETRA expected - dozens of residents flagged after the Force Distortions. * MEETRA: “If this reached everyone,” speaking to them in the HAWK’s hold, “I want to know how it felt to those who don’t live in the Force the way we do.” * ATTON (groaning): “Half of these people just want to tell someone they had a bad week,” as he scrolls his datapad. * JOLEE (chuckling): “Welcome to public service.” They split up across the station. Hours pass. Most meetings blur together: minor sensitivities, half-formed intuitions, or beings eager to attribute unrelated stress to a galactic event. BAO-DUR notes faint potential in some. ATTON grows visibly impatient. JOLEE mutters something about false alarms and bruised egos. Halfway through her list, MEETRA’s comm chirps. * MIRA (quiet): “I found someone. Block 15. You should see this one.” Residential Block 15 is dimmer than the rest of the station. Sections still show damage from the Battle of Telos - exposed conduits, patched bulkheads, corridors left unfinished. Neglect lingers here. MIRA waits for MEETRA outside a modest apartment door. * MIRA: “He opened it himself…it’s a kid.” The door slides open. A young Mirialan boy stands there, green skin marked with faint geometric tattoos, eyes steady, unblinking. Behind him, a man in worn civilian clothes sits in a hoverchair, one pant leg folded neatly where a limb should be. His eyes narrow immediately at the sight of MEETRA. * ADULT MIRIALAN (flatly): “We don’t need Jedi.” * MIRA (pointing to the kid): “This…is ARIN DERAS.” She points to the adult Mirialan. “And this is ARIN’s cousin and guardian, KAEL DERAS.” * MEETRA (inclining her head): “Hello, I am MEETRA SURIK. We’re here at SERGEANT VALE’s request. Residents affected by recent events are being checked on, nothing more.” She looks at KAEL, eyes open and clear. KAEL studies her for a long moment. Something in his posture suggests old unspoken grievances…but he nods her in. * KAEL (voice low): “You talk where I can hear. In here.” [[ARIN DERAS->Telos1Arin]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

TELOS IV: Meditate The wind rolls across the plains of Telos IV, carrying the scent of new growth and distant salt. MEETRA stands alone on the perimeter of the Restoration Zone. She removes her boots, pressing her feet into soil that once were ash. She kneels. The Force is different here than on Tython. Telos feels…stitched. She closes her eyes and reaches outward. The planet answers cautiously. Beneath her awareness, she feels the deep scars and fractures, where bombardment once scorched ecosystems to bone. The Force there is thin, frayed like fabric pulled too tight. In certain pockets it still flickers unevenly, especially along old fault lines where restoration grids hum to compensate for what nature cannot yet sustain alone. But, those fractures are closing. Life pushes through them. Roots threading through damaged soil. Small creatures reclaiming territory once sterile. The Force gathers in those places, tentative but determined. Healing is not complete - but it is happening. She lifts her awareness higher, sensing Citadel Station. Its presence is rigid, geometric, layered in bureaucracy and caution. The Force around it feels disjointed and rough - thousands of minds, suspicion lingering between Ithorian idealism and Czerka pragmatism. It is not harmonious. But it is steady. The station holds. Her senses drift northward, drawn unwillingly to cold stone and silent corridors…Atris’ failed Jedi Academy. The Force there pools thick and stagnant, heavy with isolation and regret. It pulls faintly at her, like an old bruise pressed too firmly. Unfinished. All of it sits out of alignment. She widens her awareness further, embracing the whole. Telos does not feel like it did after Nihilus’ attack. It does not feel on the brink of collapse. The restoration grids pulse in rhythm with the land. The Ithorian herd’s influence hums gently through the ecosystem. The scars remain visible, but they no longer define the planet’s future. It is no longer a semi-failed experiment, it is becoming proof of healing. She exhales slowly. For so long she walked worlds defined by devastation - Malachor, Dantooine, Korriban. Places where the Force screamed or fell silent. Now, Telos struggles, heals, persists. And in that persistence, she feels hope, real hope, stir inside her again. It’s hard for her to believe, but harder not to when she’s standing in it. If Telos can survive what was done to it…if something so thoroughly broken can rebuild without surrendering to bitterness or despair…then perhaps the galaxy is not as close to collapse as she fears. She rises, wind catching her cloak. The planet breathes beneath her. It is choosing to live…and with this reminder, so will she. [[Back to the Restoration Zone->Telos1Restoration]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

TELOS IV: Assist BAO-DUR BAO-DUR’s face glows pale from the terminal he works on, with MIRA to his side assisting him, as MEETRA approaches. Lines of energy flow maps scroll across the screen: shield coverage grids, reroute pathways, backup junctions flashing amber. <img src="Act1/Telos1AssistBao1.png" class="png"> * BAO-DUR (focused): “I’ve found the problem.” His organic and mechanical hands move with careful precision over the controls. “Two primary lines feeding the northern shield wall were destabilized. I’ve rerouted through auxiliary channels. It’s holding…for now.” * MEETRA (quietly): “For now?” * BAO-DUR (nodding): “One relay node keeps dropping off-grid. It shouldn’t. I need to inspect it manually.” He finally looks at her. “I’d appreciate the company, General.” * MEETRA: “Let’s go.” * MIRA (grinning): “Shield wall hardware? Finally something interesting.” She jogs ahead. “I want to see how they’re pushing this much atmospheric containment without frying the grid!” Minutes later, the speeder skims low across restored grasslands. The translucent shield wall rises in the distance like a shimmering horizon, separating fertile recovery from still-scarred wasteland beyond. The JEDI feels the electric buzz of the grid as they get closer. <img src="Act1/Telos1AssistBao2.png" class="png"> BAO-DUR’s datapad chirps sharply. He frowns. * BAO-DUR: “The reroute on the node up ahead just failed. Same junction.” His jaw tightens. “That doesn’t make sense.” * MIRA (glancing back at him): “Should we be worried?” * BAO-DUR (voice hardened): “We’ll find out when we get there…” As they crest a rise, the relay tower comes into view - and suspicious figures clustered at its base. MEETRA feels the intent before their first shots. * MEETRA: “Look out!” Blaster fire erupts toward the speeder. BAO-DUR moves the speeder defensively, while MEETRA and MIRA ignite their sabers, the bolts screaming at them before being deflected away. The JEDI vault from the speeder, instantly on the move. <img src="Act1/Telos1AssistBao3.png" class="png"> * BAO-DUR: “Bumani mercenaries!” Fury sharpens his words. “They’ll cripple the shield, then salvage what’s left. Strip Telos again.” * MIRA (annoyed): “I really wish we could just shake these stupid guys off our planets…” The mercenaries number around two dozen, pressing hard, but the JEDI move as one. MEETRA advances through blaster fire, each deflection precise, controlled. MIRA flanks left, aggressive and fluid. BAO-DUR drives straight through the center, anger contained but unmistakable. One by one, the mercenaries fall back, then fall at the JEDI’s feet. Silence returns to the relay tower. BAO-DUR kneels immediately at the junction panel, tools and diagnostics replacing his saber. * BAO-DUR (muttering): “They overloaded the coupler manually. Effective. But crude. Of course.” MEETRA scans the ground and notices some displaced power cell half-buried in dirt. She pauses, considering what these could be used for… <img src="Act1/Telos1AssistBao4.png" class="png"> <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Telos1BAODUR>>* <<link "Hand the Power Cells to Bao-Dur">><<set $Telos1BAODUR = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> MEETRA picks them up in her hands, sensing the residual disruption around it, and carries them over to BAO-DUR. BAO-DUR (surprised): “That’ll help. Thank you.” She nods. Watching him work, she feels his tension easing as systems stabilize. The massive shield wall flickers once - then steadies, luminous and intact. When BAO-DUR finishes, he stands slowly. * BAO-DUR: “CHODO’s herd can reinforce the relay from here, it’ll hold. Let’s get back to the outpost.” They return to the speeder in quiet resolve, the planetary shield humming behind them. [[Back to the Restoration Zone->Telos1Restoration]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Keep the Power Cells">><<set $Telos1BAODUR = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> MEETRA stealthily pockets the power cells within her cloak. She can think of a few systems the EBON HAWK would benefit from with extra power…BAO-DUR will probably assume Bumani stripped them or destroyed them. She returns to BAO-DUR, watching him work. The massive shield wall flickers, back and forth, unstable. After a few minutes, BAO-DUR stands slowly, heavy. * BAO-DUR: “They sabotaged too much. CHODO’s herd will need to replace some integral to get it stable again. Let’s get back to the outpost.” They return to the speeder quietly, the planetary shield buzzing behind them. [[Back to the Restoration Zone->Telos1Restoration]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

TELOS IV: Zevraxx Keth KETH, a tall lean Falleen male, stands tall behind a heavy desk, adjusting his jacket rather than reaching for a weapon. His expression is irritated, slightly sputtering his words. <img src="Act1/Telos1Keth1.png" class="png"> * KETH (indignant): “What are you doing! The Bumani Exchange are the true enforcers of this station. We have acted justly so it survives!” ATTON scans crates of confiscated shield regulators stacked behind him. * ATTON: “By hoarding…half the grid?” * KETH (correcting): “Reallocating. The Restoration Project and the Ithorians are naïve and weak. Telos needs strength, not sentiment!” MIRA circles, saber igniting in a flash of viridian. * MIRA (irritated): “You say that as your merc steal from the shield wall.” * KETH: “To strengthen it,” he replies without hesitation. “Stress reveals weakness. We expose it before enemies do.” * BAO-DUR (jaw tightens): “You sabotaged my atmospheric stabilizers.” * KETH: “A necessary test. You can’t protect a planet by pretending it’s safe!” His certainty is absolute. Every contradiction folds neatly into his own justification. Theft is preparedness, sabotage was done for resilience. He speaks as though history itself endorses him. MEETRA feels darkness in him…but not the slick ambition of a common criminal. It feels anchored deep within him, fused to identity. A core belief hardened into armor. When she brushes his awareness, she meets resistance…conviction. * MEETRA (quietly, shaking her head): “You really believe this.” * KETH (eyes blazing): “I know it! When the shield fails, you’ll wish you’d listened!” His hand twitches toward a concealed control panel… MEETRA instinctively throws out her hand, slamming him into his tall desk chair. When he opens his eyes again, yellow and viridian lightsaber blades are inches from his chest, with his back on the floor. Somehow, ZEVRAXX KETH does not flinch in his current predicament. <img src="Act1/Telos1Keth2.png" class="png"> * KETH (cooly): “You can arrest me,” looking at the JEDI surrounding him, “but you can’t arrest inevitability! Weakness invites collapse…” * JOLEE (rolling his eyes): “Oh boy…this one’s had too many nuts on the job.” <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Telos1Keth>>* <<link "Intimidate Keth">><<set $Telos1Keth = 'Neutral'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* KETH (voice rising with conviction): “History proves it. Empires fall when they hesitate. Telos will survive because leaders like me act while bureaucrats debate.” * ATTON (dry): “Funny. Most people who ‘save’ things don’t have to keep blowing holes in them.” * KETH (snaps back): “Controlled fractures reveal structural flaws. Pressure tests create strength.” * BAO-DUR (flat, precise): “Destabilizing critical hardware and failsafes outside of maintenance windows doesn’t qualify as diagnostic checks.” KETH’s jaw tightens, but he presses on, convinced of his own logic. * KETH: “Telos need resolve, they need to see decisive force! The TSF projects doubt. I project certainty!” MEETRA steps forward, calm but unyielding. The Force around her turns dense, calcifying from her presence. * MEETRA: “Certainty without truth is noise. That’s what you’re doing, at best.” * KETH (scoffing, uncertain): “You’re blinded by ideal- ” MEETRA pushes through the Force, forcing him deep into his chair. KETH loses his breath, squirming at the pressure. His eyes bulge in fear, mouth agape. <img src="Act1/Telos1KethIntimidate.png" class="png"> * MEETRA (threatening): “Bumani doesn’t protect Telos. The TSF does. And the JEDI support the TSF, the real defenders of Telos. Your fear creates your failure. Give me your word - call off your attacks.” KETH struggles to speak. MEETRA moves her pressure off of his neck, and he gasps for words. * KETH (desperate): “YES - ok! Ok I’ll call them off, I’ll stop it! Just stop it!” MEETRA relents, releasing her hold in the Force. KETH gasps to fill his lungs with fresh air as his arms drop to the ground, exhausted. * MEETRA (cold): “TSF will be along shortly. Don’t move, and don’t try anything…or we’ll be back.” Saying this, MEETRA and her friends walk out of the broken Falleen’s office. [[Explore Telos IV->Telos1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>><</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Reason with Keth">><<set $Telos1Keth = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>MEETRA steps forward. She motions to ATTON and MIRA, who deactivate their sabers saber. * MEETRA (quiet, steady): “ZEVRAXX…look out your window.” He hesitates, staring at her. “Look.” Reluctantly, he glances toward the docking ring. Freighters glide in. Transports depart. Ithorian supply ships move in measured cycles. The hum of commerce is constant, not chaotic. * MEETRA: “The shield node your people drained, that’s what keeps those lanes stable. The TSF patrol routes you call weak intercepted three smuggling attempts this week alone. They’re not flashy. They’re not loud. They are consistent.” * KETH: “They’re constrained,” countering reflexively. * BAO-DUR: “Yes, because power without constraint is what nearly destroyed this planet.” That lands for KETH. He looks up to BAO-DUR, and his eyes start to go distant, processing.. <img src="Act1/Telos1KethConvince.png" class="png"> MEETRA reaches gently into the Force, pulling from its illuminating nature. Light settles across the room like a quiet dawn. She enters his mind, steadying it, calming the pings of stress. * MEETRA: “You feel fear. Fear that Telos will fail again. That if someone doesn’t seize control, it will slip.” His breathing shifts, reacting to what her words are speaking to him, what they impact at his core. * MEETRA (continuing): “That fear isn’t strength. It’s trauma, that comes from real pain.” She steps beside him and gestures outward again. “Telos is healing. The Restoration Zones are stabilizing. Wildlife has returned. Atmospheric loss has dropped below projected models. The TSF escorts supply convoys daily. They aren’t perfect. But they are building something durable. I can certify this, I’ve seen more broken parts of the galaxy than most living beings have.” * MIRA (blunt): “You weakened that durability. Because you didn’t trust anyone else to protect it.” * KETH (certainty flickering): “I…I was…trying to make it stronger,” he says, quieter now. * JOLEE (gently): “By proving it weak. That’s a loop that never ends.” MEETRA’s presence in the Force grows clearer, brighter. She opens it more to KETH. * MEETRA: “Strength isn’t just in how you control, it’s also through cooperation and unity. The TSF, the Ithorians, the Republic - they’re choosing structure over chaos. That’s harder to achieve than domination.” KETH looks down at the scorched ground, at the steady traffic beyond the glass. The edges of his conviction begin to crack. * KETH (murmuring): “I…thought someone had to force resilience.” * BAO-DUR: “Resilience isn’t forced. It’s supported, through those that seek the same outcome.” KETH exhales, long and unsteady. For the first time, his eyes lose their fevered shine. * KETH: “Telos… isn’t collapsing,” he admits quietly. And for the first time since the Battle of Telos, he believes it. SERGEANT VALE stands at attention outside the TSF holding cells, posture formal but eyes sincere. <img src="Act1/Telos1KethConvince2.png" class="png"> * VALE: “We appreciate what you did. You could’ve cut him down. Instead, you brought him in breathing. That matters - to the station, to morale.” A faint, respectful nod. “The Jedi handled this the right way.” * MEETRA (inclining her head): “Citadel Station handled it. We just removed the obstruction.” * VALE (small smile): “With precision.” As MEETRA turns away, she finds JOLEE waiting near the corridor junction, leaning on his staff. They fall into step toward the docks, to the EBON HAWK. * JOLEE: “Talking down a mercenary kingpin who’d convinced himself he was saving the world. That’s novel. And powerful!” * MEETRA (sympathetic sigh): “He wanted to believe he was right.” * JOLEE: “Most dangerous people do.” * MEETRA (hesitating): “It felt…off. Not just his ego. Something rooted. I don’t know if he built that delusion himself, or if something…nudged him.” * JOLEE (gruff, certain): “Distortions don’t just shake planets, kid. We’ll find out soon enough.” [[Explore Telos IV->Telos1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>><</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "End Keth">><<set $Telos1Keth = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* KETH (sitting up, voice sharp): “You think you’ve won? The TSF has already buried this station in regulation! I am the spine Telos needs! I am need- ” The cyan blade ignites, a single decisive arc through the air, before cutting off again. KETH’s body falls before anyone fully processes what has happened. <img src="Act1/Telos1KethEnd.png" class="png"> Silence detonates in the suite. ATTON stares, frozen. MIRA’s blaster remains lowered, forgotten. BAO-DUR’s eyes widen a fraction. JOLEE’s mouth opens, then closes again. Only T3-M4 breaks the stillness, a sharp distressed warble echoing off the transparisteel. MEETRA stands over the dead Falleen, hilt still in her hand. * MEETRA (firm, edged): “He had his chance. “We offered him clarity. He chose delusion.” She turns to face them, eyes hard. “He was unstable. Convinced sabotage was salvation. The TSF would cage him, and he would wait. Manipulate. Rebuild.” Her jaw tightens. “This assures Telos’ future.” * ATTON (quiet, stunned): “You didn’t have to- ” * MEETRA (cutting him off): “Yes. I did.” Her gaze sweeps them all. “Ending him removes the Bumani threat. No trials. No sympathizers rallying behind a martyr. No second attempt at ‘inevitability.’” No one answers her. The weight of it settles in what she means. MEETRA sees their faces. Shock, disbelief, something dangerously close to fear...of her. A flicker of regret crosses her expression. She holsters her hilt. * MEETRA (flatly): “I’ll report this to SERGEANT VALE. Secure the room.” Without another word, she steps past them and leaves. Behind her, the HEROES remain motionless, the silence heavier than the corpse at their feet. [[Explore Telos IV->Telos1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>><</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

TELOS IV: The Abandoned Academy <img src="Act1/Telos1Academy1.png" class="png"> The polar sky is a white storm as the HAWK descends into the iced-over hangar. Metal groans beneath frost. Snow has swallowed half the structure, only the broken arch of the entrance remains partially visible. ATTON’s voice crackles over the comm as the ramp lowers. * ATTON: “Try to avoid Force cages this time around, there’s not a lot of room to sit in them.” MEETRA, BAO-DUR and JOLEE step into thigh-deep snow. Their sabers ignite in unison - cyan and green - and carve through ice sealing the interior doors. Steam hisses as old frost yields. The glow of their blades becomes their only light. <img src="Act1/Telos1Academy2.png" class="png"> Inside, the air is dead. No power, no hum of systems, just the crunch of boots over frozen stone. The deeper they go, the less treacherous the footing becomes. Thinning ice is replaced by thickening darkness. As they enter the Entrance Chamber, all three pause. They can feel the oppressive pull of the Dark Side, tangibly now. * BAO-DUR (murmuring): “It’s ahead.” * JOLEE (shaking his head): “Oh, I don’t like that.” * MEETRA (pulling out her comlink): “ATTON, do check-ins with us. Something is still here. We’re checking it out.” As they cross into the Meeting Chamber, the light of their sabers illuminate dark figures, standing in a perfect circle around them. MEETRA and BAO-DUR recognize them instantly - white robes, white hair, impassive faces…the Handmaidens. * BAO-DUR (defensive stance): “How- ?” * JOLEE (squinting): “Wasn’t this settled already?” MEETRA’s confusion spins through her head. They were freed after Atris’ capture. They should’ve returned to Eshan. Why are they here?... <img src="Act1/Telos1Academy3.png" class="png"> The Handmaidens suddenly speak as one, moving into attack stances. “You are unprepared.” “You are weak.” “The Sith will break you, as they broke your Order.” Their voices cut like cold wind. Guilt presses against MEETRA’s ribs - old failures, old graves. JOLEE steps forward, blade low, daring them to engage. * JOLEE (dry): “If I’m so weak, strike me down then! Let’s see what you’ve got.” They do not move…they only stare, and threaten. "They will come, and you will hesitate.” “You will try to save them, but you will fail.” “Your compassion will be your undoing.” <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Telos1Academy>>* <<link "Attack the Handmaidens">><<set $Telos1Academy = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA: “They’re not going to listen to us. We need to move past them.” The JEDI move together, each throwing themselves at a Handmaiden, dodging the expected attack from their sisters. All three are surprised to suddenly miss, and fall to the floor from their own attack…as if nothing was there. The Handmaidens remain somehow, and continue their verbal assault. “The cycle continues.” “The galaxy will burn in your inaction” “You are too late.” MEETRA picks herself up, scowling at their would-be attackers, holding her saber as a light source again. * MEETRA (exasperated): “Come on. They aren’t here anymore.” As the JEDI move past the ghosts of the Handmaidens, they all simulate attacks with their staffs, melting into vapor as they come into contact with the JEDI. The illusion is broken, and they eventually fade back into the darkness. MEETRA is relieved to not have to confront that part of her past, but the misplaced guilt from Atris still remains. [[Dark Meditations->Telos1Meditations]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Reason with the Handmaidens">><<set $Telos1Academy = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> MEETRA feels it then - it’s wrong. 6 Handmaidens, but at the end there were only 5… She thrusts her hand outward, kinetically pushing out in the Force away from her, towards them. The blast ripples through the chamber, but…the Handmaidens don’t move. Almost as if they’re not there… “The cycle continues.” “The galaxy will burn in your inaction” “You are too late.” MEETRA drops her defensive stance, holding her saber as a light source again. * MEETRA (exasperated): “Come on. They aren’t here anymore.” As the JEDI move past the ghosts of the Handmaidens, they all simulate attacks with their staffs, melting into vapor as they come into contact with the JEDI. The illusion is broken, and they eventually fade back into the darkness. MEETRA is relieved to not have to confront that part of her past, but the misplaced guilt from Atris still remains. [[Dark Meditations->Telos1Meditations]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

TELOS IV: Dark Meditations Halfway between the Meeting and Meditation Chamber, the air changes. It pressurizes, becoming denser, followed by the sound of a hiss that rips into a scream, tearing through the Force like metal shearing apart. <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMedi1.jpeg" class="png"> MEETRA staggers first. The pressure slams into her chest, compressing breath, turning thought into static. The underground structure seems to pulse. The narrow metal walkway hums violently beneath their boots, suspended over the frozen abyss far below. ATTON would call it dramatic, and he would be right if this wasn’t happening in reality. Behind her, BAO-DUR drops to one knee, mechanical arm digging into the grating for stability. JOLEE braces against the walkway, teeth clenched, eyes narrowed as if listening past the noise. For a fraction of a second, MEETRA’s instinct whispers to open, to absorb, to devour the sound. * MEETRA (gritting her teeth): “No.” The Meditation Chamber doors lie ahead - 10 meters, maybe less. The air around them shimmers faintly, like heat over ice. The scream is there, she knows it. And she thinks she knows what’s causing it. * MEETRA (shouting): “Back! Get back to the Meeting Chamber! Call the others - now!” * BAO-DUR (hesitating): “General- ” * MEETRA (intense): “BAO, do it!” Her words land like iron, and BAO-DUR responds to her command. <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMedi2.png" class="png"> As they pull back, MEETRA pushes forward. She is already leaning into her Wound for some kind of stability, opening it just enough for the Scream to be absorbed, to clear space in her mind. It burns cold through her ribs. Each step forward feels like wading through dense water, the Scream sharpening as she nears the doorway. The metal seams of the chamber tremble violently. She reaches the threshold, and sees her assumption unfortunately validated. The Sith Holocrons hover in unstable formation across the chamber walls, dark pyramids bleeding thin streams of sickly crimson and gold light. Energy arcs between them in jagged lines, converging upward into a twisting distortion in the air itself. She feels the misalignment radiating outward from this chamber like ripples under ice. This is an amplifier, not the source. Still dangerous. <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMedi3.png" class="png"> The Scream spikes, and the Holocrons flare brighter, reacting to her presence. She hopefully has seconds, before she’s overwhelmed or corrupted beyond her awareness. <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Telos1Meditations>>* <<link "Destroy the Sith Holocrons">><<set $Telos1Meditations = 'Dark'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> MEETRA ignites her saber, cyan light cutting through the crimson haze, and throws it hard, arcing in the air, guided by her hand through the Force. The blade spins rapidly, wrapping around the entire chamber, slicing clean through each Holocron. The Screams shift pitches as the blade hits each one, the chorus of evil screams faltering and failing with every hit. <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMediDestroy1.png" class="png"> It’s at this point where MEETRA finds the critical flaw in her decision. Red and yellow light explodes like a flare from each, flooding the chamber with heatless fire, shooting out in all directions, seeking purchase. They feel her, rushing to her as they fall. As she guides her saber, MEETRA reaches inward, opening her Wound further, trying to absorb the dark energy. The vapors rushing from the shattered Holocrons are not clean or singular, and they fight against her. Her Wound draws some of it in, but not enough. Her lightsaber finally clatters to the floor at the chamber’s edge, deactivated. She gasps, falling to one knee, overwhelmed and confused. It burns. For a heartbeat, she sees dark visions…cities reduced to dust…Telos in flames again…a yellow explosion of death…her lifeless hands, stained in blood… <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMediDestroy2.png" class="png"> Footsteps pound behind her. She can feel them in her head. She can’t see…her eyes are closed. Did I pass out? She can her the voices of her friends. * ATTON: “Tell me you didn’t- ” She feels hands moving her, putting her on her back. She struggles to open her eyes, seeing blurry images. * MIRA: “She broke them. It’s gonna stay quiet.” * ATTON: “She’s alive. She’s waking up! ” * BAO-DUR: “Energy output has ceased. Distortion readings are collapsing to baseline.” Her eyes finally dilate, bringing her a clear vision of what’s in front of her. ATTON, MIRA, BAO-DUR and JOLEE stand around her, concerned and attentive. <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMediDestroy3.png" class="png"> * JOLEE (steady): “You broke them.” * MEETRA (nodding weakly): “Yes.” * ATTON (gently lifting her head): “You okay? That scream - felt like my skull was splitting.” * MEETRA (meeting ATTON’s eyes): “I will be. I’m here.” The word lands flat. * MIRA (gaze narrowed): “You don’t look fine.” * MEETRA: “I’m tired.” The foreign energy inside her coils like an oily presence, thin and nauseating. As though something has lodged itself just beneath her awareness. She straightens, forcing her shoulders back. * MEETRA (painful): “We need to leave from here. Telos should stabilize now.” BAO-DUR steps beside her automatically, offering support without comment. JOLEE moves to her other side, his presence deliberately quiet. ATTON and MIRA flank them as they walk back through the corridor. Each step feels heavier than the last. Inside her, something hums faintly, a fever without heat, a whisper too soft to understand. She keeps her breathing controlled, keeps her stride even. The others speak in low concerned tones as they move. ATTON tries for levity. She says the attack was a lot, she’ll get past it with some sleep and meditation. She doesn’t know if that’s true, but she wants it to be. [[Explore Telos->Telos1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>><</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Bury the Sith Holocrons">><<set $Telos1Meditations = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> She knows how to hit them, shatter them. But that risks exposing whatever’s activating them to her. She sees Telos in her mind - green returning to scarred land. She sees the disciplined faces of the TSF officers who patrol without thanks. She sees the citizens who chose to stay. This cannot continue. Decision crystallizes. Through the pain, she reaches to her belt, two thermal detonators. Her fingers move automatically, setting to delayed detonation, then hurls both detonators upward. Her hands guide the Force to catch them mid-air, pinning them to the main support columns above the Holocrons. * MEETRA (muttering): “Forgive me,” a plea intended for her friends. She runs, as fast as her body will let her, her mind still pinning the detonators to the wall. The delay ticks down in her mind like a second heartbeat. The Scream crescendos - <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMediBury1.png" class="png"> Explosion! The chamber convulses. Fire and shrapnel rip outward as the support columns shear. The ceiling fractures in a violent cascade, throwing massive slabs of durasteel and stone plummet down onto the screaming Holocrons. Their blood red light shatters into fragments, a final distorted howl tears through the Force, then - The entire Meditation Chamber collapses, pulled down by its immense gravity, falling into the frozen abyss, to be swallowed by ice and darkness. The walkway behind MEETRA behind her buckles, metal ripping from its moorings. Bolts scream loose, and the structure starts to peel away in sections, falling into nothing. In the chaos, she leaps, the Force surging through her legs, propelling her forward farther than physics allows. She almost makes it. <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMediBury2.png" class="png"> Her fingers catch the new edge of the adjacent platform, bleeding on impact. Her body slams hard against the lip. Ice-cold air roars beneath her. Her grip slips - <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMediBury3.png" class="png"> BAO-DUR’s mechanical hand clamps around her hand, and JOLEE’s human hand grabs onto her other. She looks up to see their smiling faces, as they lift her up out of her assumed fall. * BAO-DUR: “We’ve got you, General.” * JOLEE (grunting): “Maybe don’t make a habit of this!” <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMediBury4.png" class="png"> MEETRA rolls onto her back, breath ragged, staring at the fractured ceiling. Silence is offered to her ears. The screaming is gone. Footsteps pound down the corridor as ATTON and MIRA appear, weapons drawn, eyes wide. They naturally circle around MEETRA. * ATTON (skidding to a stop): “Please tell me that wasn’t you.” * MIRA (staring at where the chamber used to be): “Wow! You blew up a meditation room.” * JOLEE (dryly): “It was meditating too loudly!” * BAO-DUR (looking down at MEETRA): “I’d say the source of the disturbance is eliminated now.” * ATTON (looking between them): “So… good news? We stopped the screaming ancient Sith box?” * MIRA: “Looks that way,” eyes flick to MEETRA. They try to laugh it off. They always do. But MEETRA remains on her back, arms pushing against her side, chest rising slowly. She feels the absence, the silence inside her Wound where the Scream had pressed. It wanted her, recognized her. It felt like the Holocrons were only a fragment, a relay. She catches her breath, forcing her heartbeat to steady. I chose destruction again, for the right reasons. She rises slowly. * MEETRA: “Yes, good news. I think Telos will stabilize better now.” * BAO-DUR (nodding): “Yes, General. Thank you.” * ATTON (holsters his blaster): “Next time we visit an abandoned academy, I vote for less falling.” * JOLEE (eyes her carefully): “You did what needed doing.” She meets his gaze. She can’t agree with her words, but she believes it. And their assuredness helps to make that real for her. [[Explore Telos->Telos1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>><</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Run from the Sith Holocrons">><<set $Telos1Meditations = 'Neutral'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> She hesitates - destroying them now could trigger something worse. They are unstable and overcharged…if she strikes, the release could cascade beyond Telos. Too dangerous. She backs toward the entry, intending to run. The Holocrons respond instantly; red and yellow energy surges inward, then detonates outward in a violent wave. The Scream sharpens into a fully unified and focused attack. It slams into her spine like a physical blow. The chamber shakes and vibrates, the metal walkway beyond groans as the pressure ripples outward. The Scream swells, rising, rising…to the same catastrophic intensity she felt on Ossus. Her vision fractures. * MEETRA (gasping): “No- ” <img src="Act1/Telos1DarkMediRun1.png" class="png"> She staggers back onto the walkway. The air distorts around her, and the abyss below tilts sideways. Sound becomes a piercing, endless tone. She loses her footing. The grating tears against her palms as she falls hard, the impact knocking breath from her lungs. The world spins violently, ceiling and void trading places. She reaches inward. Open the Wound. Draw it in. Her chest tightens as she forces the hollow open…but the Scream is too vast, too sudden. It crashes over her defenses before they can form. Her thoughts scatter. The walkway dissolves into shadow. The Holocrons’ light becomes a single blinding flare… …and then everything goes black. [[The End->Devouring3Tsisaarai]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>><</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

TELOS IV: ARIN DERAS <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> Inside, the apartment is sparse but orderly. Repairs half-finished. Tools stacked in corners. ARIN sits across from MEETRA at a small table. He folds his hands carefully, considering her deeply in his thoughts. There is no fear in him…just quiet observation. <<set $Telos1Arin to "unlocked">> She softens her tone. * MEETRA (soft tone): “ARIN, my name is MEETRA. Have you felt confused lately, in the last few weeks? During the…events that happened across the galaxy?” He thinks, longer than most children would. * ARIN (calm): “No. I don’t remember being confused.” * MEETRA: “Have you felt anything unusual? Dreams, maybe?” * ARIN (gaze lowered): “I have dreams. They’re quiet in them. But they’re heavy. Like something is pushing down on me.” KAEL shifts in his chair, growing more uncomfortable. * KAEL (gruff): “I found him one night, crying in his sleep. Screaming. He’s never done that before.” His jaw tightens. “Took him to medical. That’s when we heard about the attack. Figured it was coincidence.” MEETRA nods slowly. The timeline aligns. She turns back to ARIN,, kneeling down in front of him, eye level. * MEETRA: “May I see what you look like in the Force?” * ARIN (tilting his head): “What is that?” She takes a moment, considering her words carefully. * MEETRA (softly): “It’s like an energy field. It connects all living things. It surrounds us, binds us. Some people feel it more than others. I’ve been able to use it to understand beings better than what doctors normally see. If you’d allow me, I’d just be listening to you in the Force. You wouldn’t have to do anything different while I listen.” ARIN studies her face. His unspoken thoughts are written all over him. He looks down for a moment, back to MEETRA, and nods. MEETRA closes her eyes, moving into a meditation state, the station hum fading away. She reaches outward. There is darkness around him…but it doesn’t cling. It drifts like dusty residue floating around him. She feels the echoes within him. The Battle of Telos. The presence of Nihilus years ago, devouring life on this station. The fear, the absence, the shock of sudden loss. ARIN was here. A child absorbing terror he could not name. The nightmares make sense. But beneath that, she sees raw strength, very much untouched. It flickers unevenly, like a flame learning to stand against wind. She opens her eyes, finding ARIN again with searching eyes. * MEETRA (quietly): “ARIN…do you ever find yourself able to do things others can’t?” ARIN looks blankly at her. He doesn’t know how to respond. * KAEL (reluctant): “Yes…” He pauses, shifting his weight in the chair. “He fixes things he’s never been taught. Knows when something’s about to break. Sometimes…” KAEL hesitates. “Sometimes objects move. Just a little. When he’s upset and being quiet.” * MIRA (crouching beside ARIN): “That true?” ARIN nods once, almost embarrassed. He looks away, tracing a pattern in the tabletop with his finger. * ARIN (quietly): “It happens. I don’t mean for it to do anything.” She meets KAEL’s eyes. This is no coincidence. And the continued thread of Telos’s tragedies ring true, even in this young child…possibility. * [[Offer for ARIN to be a Jedi->Telos1ArinJedi]] * [[Don’t Offer Jedi Training to ARIN->Telos1ArinDenied]]

TELOS IV: ARIN DERAS <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> MEETRA studies KAEL carefully. The weight of the moment settles between them. * MEETRA (gently): “KAEL, would you be willing to help ARIN…with what he is?” KAEL’s jaw tightens. He knows exactly what she means. His eyes drift toward the boy across the room. He wants to say no, she can see it immediately. The instinct to protect is written in every line of his face. But the galaxy they live in doesn’t care about instincts. He says nothing. His eyes hold his answer, and she can see it clearly. * MEETRA (back to ARIN, softly): “If you wanted, we could help you understand what you can do. There are others like you. Children and young adults, who feel the Force the way you do.” ARIN looks at KAEL immediately. Protective. Uncertain. KAEL meets the boy’s gaze. The same quiet loyalty passes between them. MEETRA sees the resistance. She shouldn’t push further, out of respect. * MEETRA (rising to her feet, calm): “We’ve fulfilled our purpose here for the TSF. Thank you both for speaking with us, I wish you a good day.” She gives a warm but respectful smile to both of the Mirialan. * MIRA (small smile to ARIN): “You did good, kid.” Both JEDI thank them and turn toward the door. They are halfway into the corridor when - “Wait.” KAEL’s voice cracks through the room, stopping the JEDI’s steps. They look back, seeing KAEL rigid in his chair, conflict etched into his face. * KAEL (carefully): “What actually happens to him, if he becomes…a Jedi?” The question makes her wince inside. She’s still not comfortable with the idea of talking about Jedi training…she likes to keep it general, to the Force. With MIRA beside her, she knows she’ll say something if her words get too twisted. MEETRA steps closer again, slowly and measured, looking directly into KAEL’s eyes. * MEETRA: “He would live offworld, in a protected environment. With others learning the Force. The Jedi are rebuilding. We protect those who train with us.” * ARIN (looking up at her): “What’s a Jedi?” Somehow it’s easier to talk to children about the JEDI. MEETRA kneels to ARIN again. * MEETRA (warm): “A Jedi listens to the Force. We use it to protect others. To keep peace when things aren’t what they should be. We use our power to help those who ask for it.” ARIN absorbs the words slowly. His eyes drift around, his fingers fidget reflexively. * ARIN: “Would I have to leave home?” * MEETRA (direct): “Yes.” After a moment, ARIN looks back at KAEL. * ARIN (quietly, to him): “I need to stay.” He turns back to MEETRA. “He needs help.” KAEL exhales deeply in response. He gestures ARIN closer, resting a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. * KAEL: “Listen to me,” he says, softly. “You’ve spent your whole life helping me. And life here has been brighter with you. But that was never your job.” ARIN frowns, uncomfortable and wanting to protest his words.. * KAEL (continuing): “I’m fine, ARIN. One leg doesn’t stop me from living. What you have…it’s something rare. There aren’t many JEDI right now in the galaxy, and they’re something that should come back. Jedi are strong, like you. And you deserve to understand your strength.” His voice tightens slightly, though he keeps it steady. “You’re not the only one like this in the galaxy, ARIN. You shouldn’t have to figure it out alone.” MEETRA only sees the side of ARIN’s face, as he studies KAEL’s face, his words, feels his intention. Slowly, the self-imposed guilt begins to lighten in the young boy. KAEL squeezes his shoulder once more, and ARIN moves quickly to hug him. They hold their embrace, and MEETRA feels a mixture of extended pride and gratitude. She glances at MIRA, whose usual stand-offish bounty hunter stance has noticeably softened. ARIN eventually lets go, and turns back to MEETRA. * MEETRA: “Can I be a Jedi?” Her expression softens into a warm smile. * MEETRA: “Yes, you can.” The boy smiles, a genuine smile. His shoulders seem lighter now * MEETRA:* “...but you’ll stay here for now,” she adds. “A friend of mine - MICAL, a wise Jedi - will come soon to bring you to the others.” * ARIN (slightly confused): “Why can’t you take me?” * MEETRA (still smiling): “Our work isn’t finished yet. It was coincidence that we found you here, and I’m thankful for it, but we must continue to follow our path.” * MIRA (crouching beside, grinning): “Yeah,” she says conspiratorially. “We’re hunting giant Ewoks. Big ones. As tall as the ceiling. They steal boots.” * ARIN (blinking, cautiously smiling): “I…don’t know what those are.” He laughs quietly. * MEETRA (sharing the laugh): “You won’t have to worry about them,” she assures him. “MICAL and the Jedi will take you somewhere safe.” ARIN nods. He looks back to KAEL, who gestures to the back of the apartment with a reflexive smile. * KAEL (clearing his throat): “Go start packing.” The boy quickly disappears into the next room. When he is gone, MEETRA turns back to Kael. * MEETRA (sincerely): “Thank you. We’ll protect him. And help him understand the Force.” * KAEL (swallows): “Can I still talk to him?” <div id="choiceBlock"><<if !$Telos1Arin>>* <<link "Allow Communication between KAEL and ARIN">><<set $Telos1Arin = 'Light'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">>* MEETRA: “Yes, through holocommunication. The Jedi train in hiding, but you won’t lose contact.” Relief washes over his face. “TSF security can help arrange it when MASTER MICAL arrives.” * KAEL (nodding slowly): “Good. Thank you.” The JEDI’s goodbyes are short but sincere. Outside, the corridor lights hum softly as MEETRA and MIRA walk away. After a moment, MIRA glances sideways. * MIRA: “That kid reminded me of…well. Me.” * MEETRA (looking at her): “You saw him. And you called me.” MIRA shrugs lightly, but the validation lands. * MIRA: “Guess I did.” * MEETRA (smiling): “Then you helped change his life.” MIRA chuckles quietly. They continue down the corridor together. For the first time since arriving on Telos, the weight on MEETRA’s shoulders feels slightly lighter. [[Explore Telos IV->Telos1Explore]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>> * <<link "Shelter ARIN">><<set $Telos1Arin = 'Neutral'>><<replace "#choiceBlock">> MEETRA pauses before answering. She chooses her words carefully. * MEETRA: “It may be some time before that happens. The Jedi train in hiding. Communication with the outside galaxy is…limited.” The answer lands hard. KAEL’s jaw tightens, anger flashing briefly behind his eyes. For a moment, it looks like he might pull the offer back entirely…but then he glances toward the other room where ARIN is gathering his things. His shoulders lower. * KAEL (muttering quietly): “My problems shouldn’t become his. He’s got something bigger ahead of him.” He nods once, as if sealing the decision with himself. “Just make sure he remembers where he came from.” * MEETRA: “I will.” The JEDI’s goodbyes are short but sincere. Outside, the corridor lights hum softly as MEETRA and MIRA walk away. After a moment, MIRA glances sideways. MIRA finally glances sideways at her. * MIRA: “Why’d you do that?” MEETRA looks to her, silently questioning for more clarification. * MIRA: “Tell him he won’t be able to talk to the kid for a while.” MIRA folds her arms as they walk. “You know the Jedi trainees use holocomms all the time.” MEETRA slows slightly. For a moment she says nothing, exhaling quietly. * MEETRA: “ARIN needs to learn who he is…without being pulled back by this life he’s leaving.” * MIRA (watching her carefully): “Including the only family he’s got.” * MEETRA: “Yes.” They walk for a few more moments before MEETRA doesn’t like how unsettled that felt. * MEETRA (voice lowers): “I’m…not protecting him from his family. I’m protecting him from the limits KAEL lives with.” She glances back down the corridor toward the apartment door. “ARIN’s potential is greater than anything that room can prepare him for. If he’s going to become a Jedi, while we’re still in hiding…he has to grow beyond the things that might hold him there.” The unspoken meaning settles between them. KAEL cannot follow where ARIN is going. MIRA considers that. She thinks about the boy’s quiet composure. About the broken hoverchair in the corner of the apartment. * MIRA (nodding once): “Alright.” She lets the answer be what it is. [[Explore Telos IV->Telos1Explore]]<</replace>><<run Save.autosave.save()>><</link>><</if>></div>

TELOS IV: ARIN DERAS <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> MEETRA sees ARIN's uncertainty. She shouldn’t push further, out of respect. * MEETRA (reassuring): “ARIN, you don’t need to be afraid with me. We’re not here to get you in trouble. A Jedi’s job is to make sure everyone is safe, and you are safe.” She gestures to MIRA. “My friends and I are here on Telos to help the Restoration project, to help the healing. Part of us helping is checking on those that might be struggling.” MEETRA’s hand goes to her side, and from a pouch she pulls out a kyber crystal, shining blue in the light. She considers it in her hand, then shows it to ARIN. * MEETRA: “When I have bad dreams, or feel bad inside, I like to hold this crystal. It’s a very special crystal, and it’s helped me to feel better in hard times. When I feel angry, or scared, or really worried about something, I hold this in my hands and push my energy into this.” She looks up to KAEL, reading his expression - it’s protective, but not resistant…she takes that as approval, looking back to ARIN. * MEETRA (to ARIN): “I would like to give this to you. When you have bad times, hold onto this and direct the bad feelings into this, and it will help you.” She moves it a bit closer to him. With big, wonder-filled eyes, ARIN takes the kyber crystal, turning it over in his hands. His curiosity is enraptured in its beauty and possibility. * ARIN (smiling): “Thank you!” ARIN moves across the room, holding it up to a light, projecting the prismatic light effect across the room, causing the JEDI to smile, amused. * MEETRA (rising to her feet): “ Thank you both for allowing us to visit, I wish you a good day.” She gives a warm but respectful smile to both of the Mirialan. * MIRA (small smile to ARIN): “You did good, kid.” Outside, the corridor lights hum softly as MEETRA and MIRA walk away. After a moment, MIRA glances sideways. * MIRA: “You never gave me a kyber crystal…” * MEETRA (slyly looking at her): “Yes I did!” * MIRA: “When?!” * MEETRA (matter of fact): “The viridian one, in your hilt.” * MIRA (feigning exasperation): “Not one for my lightsaber! I want a comfort crystal too!” * MEETRA (laughing): “Once we get back to the Dantooine enclave, you can pick any color you want.” MIRA chuckles quietly. They continue down the corridor together. For the first time since arriving on Telos, the weight on MEETRA’s shoulders feels slightly lighter. <<set $Telos1Arin to "Denied">> [[Explore Telos IV->Telos1Explore]]<<run Save.autosave.save()>>

MALACHOR V <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> The galaxy turns on its axis, endless and bright, but not all light survives the spiral. Between the arms of creation, in the cold places where gravity forgets its pull, lies ruin. There, adrift among the remnants of forgotten wars, hangs a world that once screamed……………Malachor V. What remains of it drifts in silence, a corpse split by its own heart’s collapse. The planet’s bones, continent-sized fragments, turn slowly through the void, each one trailing embers of atmosphere and the faint, dying shimmer of molten rock. The world is no longer whole, it is a wound stretched across the stars, a scar of stone and sorrow held together only by memory. The void around it is thick with the relics of war: the burned skeletons of Mandalorian Kandosii dreadnoughts, their once-proud sigils now flaking ghosts of beskar; the shattered frames of Republic Hammerhead cruisers that fought to the last volley; and the twisted remains of droid carriers and supply barges, still tumbling in slow, endless procession around the graveyard of their murderer. Where oceans once churned and armies clashed, there is only the drag of gravity’s grave, pulling light itself inward until even hope bends and breaks. The sky is smeared rust-red with the ashes of cities that fell long ago. The air below chokes in storms of dust and glass. The ground moves - slowly, endlessly - as if still trying to collapse in on itself, remembering the pain that birthed it. Through this field of wreckage and silence drifts the EBON HAWK, its twin engines burn like dying stars, carving pale lines of defiance through the dark. Each flicker of light paints ruin in relief - mangled bridges, crumpled hulls, torn plates of forgotten buildings sinking beneath clouds of volcanic ash. There is no sound. Only the slow heartbeat of the ship’s reactor echoing through the void, like the muted alarm of a sensor in a body long since dead. Old Guilt MEETRA stands near the forward viewport, eyes tracing the fractured horizon below. For a long moment, she lets the ache surface. Screams echoing, flashes of impossible light, gravity tearing everything apart…it all comes back, but not as it once did. The memories no longer consume her; they simply are. Scars written into the weave of her life, no longer bleeding, no longer dictating her path. She remembers the decision - the cold, merciless logic of activating the Mass Shadow Generator. The weight of command. The silence after. Once, that silence had been her exile. Now, it was her proof that she had endured. I am not the wound. I am what healed from it. Her gaze softens. The planet’s ruin no longer looks monstrous, only inevitable. The remains of choices made in desperation, the bones of an era that has finally ended. ATTON leans forward in the chair, fingers guiding the HAWK, pretending indifference but watching her in the reflection of the glass - his usual smirk absent, replaced by something quieter. Understanding, perhaps. Regret, maybe. BAO-DUR sits in the copilot chair sifting through scans, his cybernetic hand dimly lit by readouts. He doesn’t speak, but his presence is steady - an anchor in the ship’s hum. His eyes, worn but resolute, shares the same feeling she holds: We came back, together. That matters. And then, there was T3-M4. The little droid whirrs softly, his optic flickering in a worried tone before emitting a gentle boop-bee-dwoo, a form of empathic sound for him. He rolls closer and bumps lightly against MEETRA’s leg, as if to remind her that he’s still here MEETRA exhales, steady. Malachor had once been her grave. Now, it was only a place, slowly disintegrating into space dust. The ship tilts as the ship descends through the copper haze. For the first time ever, she does not look away. [[Confirmed->MalachorV1Confirmed]]

MALACHOR V: Confirmed <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> Asteroids the size of cities turn slowly around them, jagged with volcanic glass and the twisted bones of warships. The light from the HAWK’s engines push back the dark for only a few dozen meters before it vanishes into the endless dust. The stars look faint and sickly, their glow warped by the gravity scars still bleeding from Malachor’s destruction. Inside, the HEROES say little. The air seems thicker here, the hum of the ship heavier - every vibration another reminder of how deep they’re diving into something that wants them gone. * MIRA (muttering): “Feels like the dark’s holding its breath…” her voice half-swallowed by the deckplates. No one answers. MEETRA stands between the two pilot chairs, eyes fixed on the shifting debris field. Her hands are steady, her jaw tight. Every shadow looks alive. Every flicker of movement reveals echoes - the sound of tearing metal, the final scream of ships caught in gravity’s throat. Kreia’s words mixing with the dying roar of Malachor itself. BAO-DUR monitors the sensors, his cybernetic hand twitching as the readings blur with static. * BAO-DUR (quietly): “There’s nothing stable to land on. The crust fragments are collapsing every few minutes - the planet’s still dying. I’ve got the echo arrays running, trying to trace Force distortions or gravitational ripples…there’s nothing consistent. No residual harmonics, no measurable change in the field.” He adjusts the console, frowning as the data scrolls by in erratic pulses of light. “Whatever was here - it’s gone. Whatever’s left doesn’t move. It’s just echoing the collapse over and over again.” T3-M4 chirps sharply from the console, an anxious beep-woo-dwoo! - his sensors detecting pockets of radiation and unstable gravitational shears. * ATTON: “If this gets any rougher, we’ll be part of the asteroid belt before we even find a place to crash.” His voice was forced calm, trying to hide the odds through a clever lie. His grip tightens on the flight yoke. The HAWK’s hull groans as they pass through a field of wreckage. Mandalorian beskar fused with Republic durasteel drift together like relics from a cursed religion. The sound of debris brushing against the hull is like muted thunder, deep and bone-felt. The crew’s eyes all catch something new revealing itself: the remains of the Trayus Academy in the distance, a ruin buried in shadow, half-melted, half-devoured. Where the Force once screamed, there was only silence. No light. No pulse. Only cold stone and the faint echo of what once was. MEETRA reaches out. The Force answers in fragments - broken memories ricocheting off shattered rock. Her duel with Kreia replays in ghosts of sound and color: red light, falling stone…“It is the way of all things to end.” Then, nothing. She opened her eyes. * MEETRA: “It’s dead,” she said softly. “The echoes are fading, just remnants caught between the debris.” BAO-DUR gives a small nod, almost reverent. * BAO-DUR: “Then the wound is finally closing.” But before relief could settle, MEETRA freezes. A cold sensation brushes across her awareness. Not from Malachor, but through it. A faint, distant presence peering through the cracks of the void, thin as a whisper. Watching. Waiting. It’s gone before she can grasp it. * ATTON (reading her tension): “What is it?” She pauses and closes her eyes, searching, reaching out. Ricochets of echoes, dimming flares of dark energy…stretching out…emptiness. What was that? Where did it come from? It could have been so many things. It could’ve been her own unease amplified. She doesn’t know, and probably can’t know. * MEETRA: “...Nothing,” she says, opening her eyes again. “It could’ve been anything. But it’s not there anymore. Let’s keep looking.” Looking They continue to press through the wreckage, searching for a signal, a trace, anything. T3 scours his databanks - the navicomputer’s records held nothing. The EBON HAWK’s memory, once tied to its old master, offered only silence. After what feels like hours, MEETRA closes her eyes again, stretching her hand out, reaching deeper…past the shadows, past the noise. She sifts through Malachor’s remains, through every Echo fragment that still clings to the dark. There was power, yes. Pain. But not Revan. * MEETRA (exhaling in finality, dropping her hand): “He was never here.” The ship hangs in stillness. The void outside presses close, a living weight. Unspoken hope, hidden fears, potential answers, grasps for an answer from the unknown…dashed. Absent. Removed. MIRA mutters something about checking any old reports about Malachor, moving out of the cockpit. BAO-DUR thinks out loud about the power cells causing interference, finding a reason to busy himself elsewhere. [[Closure->MalachorV1Closure]]

MALACHOR V: Closure <img src="Act#/*******.png" class="imgresp"> The cockpit is still, the hum of the Hawk blending with the faint groan of Malachor’s gravity wells below. ATTON sits at the forward controls, still watching her in the cockpit reflection. MEETRA leans against the frame of the hatch, eyes tracing the shattered horizon. * MEETRA (softly): “It’s strange being here again. There was a time I couldn’t look at this world without feeling it look back. Now it’s just…empty. I thought moving past it meant I was free. But maybe I’ve only traded one kind of stillness for another.” She exhales, becoming self-reflective. * MEETRA: “Everywhere I go, it’s ruins. Malachor. Telos. Dantooine. I keep finding reminders of what we lost…never where to go next. Everywhere I go feels like another ruin. Another reminder. Revan’s trail, the True Sith…all dust now. I keep reaching forward and find nothing waiting. And I’m left chasing ghosts that don’t even bother to haunt me anymore.” ATTON stands up from the pilot’s chair, choosing to rise and see her directly, drawn despite himself. * ATTON: “Yeah. I know what that feels like. You spend years fighting, or hiding, or both…and when the noise stops, you don’t know what to do with the quiet.” He looks away, half-smile, half-ache. “I’ve got forgiveness now. From you, from the others, even a little from myself. But it’s not peace.” His head hangs a bit. “Not yet.” Nervous and fidgety, not ready to open himself up again, he starts tapping his fingers against the dash in a rhythmic but sharp pattern. * ATTON: “You gave me a reason to move again, MEETRA. But maybe what I need isn’t another reason…just a place where I can stop trying to prove I deserve one.” MEETRA moves away from the hatch, crossing the narrow space between them. The ship hums around them, the sound of life barely holding steady in the void. She places her hand on his shoulder. Neither moves for a long moment. * MEETRA: “Then find it, ATTON.” She pauses, trying to find the words. “Before this life convinces you you’re only alive when you’re bleeding for something.” Her tone softens, almost a whisper. “And when you do…maybe I’ll know how to stop searching too.” Their eyes meet together. Something unspoken flickers there: history, temptation, and quiet recognition. They both know this is not the moment. She lets her hand fall, lingering just a heartbeat longer than necessary. Then she turns and walks away down the corridor. ATTON watches her go. His usual smirk doesn’t come. Just a slow breath and a quiet murmur. * ATTON: “Yeah…maybe someday.” Outside, the shattered remains of Malachor drift apart, fading into the darkness, like a wound finally beginning to scar. <<set $MalachorV to "unlocked">> [[Leave Malachor V for Good->EbonHawk1.2]]

EBON HAWK: ATTON <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1Atton.png" class="png"> The EBON HAWK hums quietly in hyperspace. ATTON stands near the cockpit viewport, watching the streaking stars. His eyes rise up as MEETRA enters the room, showing his immediate interest in her. She smiles at him, welcoming his attention. * ATTON (casual): “Hey, what’s up?” * MEETRA: “Just getting some space…from everything out there…” <<link "Following MEETRA">><<replace "#FollowsMEETRA">> Following MEETRA * MEETRA: “You look like you’re trying to out-stare hyperspace again.” * ATTON: “Yeah. Turns out the stars cheat.” * MEETRA (folding her arms): “Something on your mind?” * ATTON: “Yeah… I’ve been thinking.” * MEETRA: “That explains the expression.” He snorts softly, then grows serious. * ATTON: “After the war…after everything with the Sith…I didn’t really have anywhere to go. Just a lot of bad memories and worse instincts.” He shrugs. “Then I met you.” She stands silent, unsure what to say to that. * ATTON: “You gave me something to do that wasn’t just running from the past. Something that actually mattered.” He rubs the back of his neck. “That’s why I stayed. Not because you’re some famous Jedi war hero…but because you gave me purpose when I didn’t have one.” MEETRA studies him quietly, trying to accept his words the way he’s saying them. * ATTON: “Problem is…the Force.” * MEETRA: “You still don’t trust it.” * ATTON: “More like I don’t trust myself with it.” He exhales slowly. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. When I feel the Force… sometimes I wonder if it remembers all of it.” * MEETRA: “It does.” * ATTON (blinking): “That’s supposed to be comforting?” * MEETRA: “It also remembers how people change.” * MEETRA (stepping closer to him): “You’ve already left that life behind, ATTON.” * ATTON: “Maybe. But it still leaves a question.” * MEETRA: “Which is?” * ATTON (meeting her eyes): “Does someone like me deserve to use the Force?” MEETRA pauses, before answering. * MEETRA: “The Force flows through every living being. It isn’t something the Jedi grant permission to use.” She looks toward the stars, remembering, collecting her thoughts. * MEETRA: “After the Mandalorian Wars…I tried to cut myself off from it. I thought if I limited myself, I might prevent more harm. It only made the distance worse.” She turns back to him. “Fear shouldn’t decide whether you use the Force. If it does, you’ll spend your life running from something that is already part of you.” * ATTON (considering): “Huh.” He scratches his head. “You know, sometimes I forget you’re the wise Jedi mentor now.” * MEETRA (smirking): “Don’t get used to it.” * ATTON (faint smile): “Still…thanks. I needed to hear that.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Revan‘s Legacy">><<replace "#REVAN">>Revan‘s Legacy * ATTON: “You ever notice how everyone talks about Revan? Like he’s still standing in the room?” * MEETRA: “Many people think he might be.” * ATTON: “Yeah…but that’s not what I mean.” She leans against the console, not responding, just looking at him for more. * ATTON: “You were both generals. Both led the Jedi in the Mandalorian Wars. Both disappeared when the galaxy got strange.” He shrugs. “But whenever people tell the stories… it’s always about Revan.” He studies her. “Doesn’t that bother you?” MEETRA considers the question calmly. * MEETRA: “Revan led differently than I did.” * ATTON: “How so?” * MEETRA: “Revan moved the galaxy like a strategy board. Every piece had a purpose.” * ATTON: “And you?” * MEETRA: “I listened.” ATTON raises an eyebrow, silently asking for me. * MEETRA: “To the people around me. To the Force. To the consequences of what we were doing.” * ATTON (chuckling): “So Revan played the game… and you survived it.” * MEETRA: “Something like that.” * ATTON (leaning back): “For what it’s worth… I’m glad I ended up following you instead.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Malachor">><<replace "#Malachor">>Malachor * ATTON: “Do you ever think about Malachor, nowadays?” MEETRA looks down at the holomap. * MEETRA: “Every day.” * ATTON (nodding slowly): “And Kreia?” A shadow crosses her expression. * MEETRA: “Those memories are always there. Malachor. Kreia. Everything that came with them.” She exhales, trying to release the pressure in her chest. “But they don’t define who I am.” * ATTON (shifting awkwardly): “People still call you the Exile.” MEETRA’s tone sharpens slightly, annoyed * MEETRA: “Yes. As if a single word explains an entire life.” * ATTON (shrugging): “Could be worse.” She glances at him, angling the annoyance to him now. * ATTON: “You could be ‘the Former Exile Who Occasionally Saves the Galaxy.’” * MEETRA (reluctant smirk): “That’s a terrible title.” * ATTON: “Give the historians time.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The New Jedi Order">><<replace "#NJO">>The New Jedi Order * ATTON: “You ever wonder if rebuilding the Jedi is just asking for the same disaster again?” * MEETRA: “Often.” * ATTON (blinking): “That was quicker agreement than I expected.” * MEETRA: “The old Order made mistakes. So did the one that came after it.” * ATTON: “And now MICAL is trying to build another one.” * MEETRA: “Yes.” * ATTON (angling his head): “You don’t sound convinced.” She folds her arms, uncomfortable. * MEETRA: “I want it to succeed. I truly do.” * ATTON: “...But?” * MEETRA: “I don’t want to lead it.” * ATTON (grinning): “Didn’t picture you sitting on a Council chair anyway.” She ignores the comment, looking out the window. * MEETRA: “Tython should become something real. Something better than what came before.” * ATTON: “But that’s MICAL’s job.” * MEETRA: “Yes.” Silence lingers for a moment. “Right now the galaxy needs people who can move freely. Help where they’re needed. Listen first.” * ATTON: “So you wander the galaxy fixing problems like a wandering hermit.” * MEETRA (raising an eyebrow): “If that’s what you want to call it.” * ATTON (nodding thoughtfully): “You know…I think that’s why the rest of us follow you.” * MEETRA: “Because I avoid responsibility?” * ATTON: “Because you choose your responsibility.” He gestures around the ship. “I’ve noticed I end up doing the same thing.” MEETRA watches him quietly. Inside, she isn’t sure how she feels about that. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Enemy">><<replace "#Enemy">>The Enemy * ATTON: “So… hypothetical question.” * MEETRA: “Those are rarely hypothetical.” * ATTON: “What if whatever caused that Force disturbance isn’t Sith?” MEETRA studies him, her mind sifting thoughts, judging what she wants to say in response. * MEETRA: “You think something worse exists.” * ATTON: “I mean…we’ve already dealt with Sith who drain planets and eat the Force itself. But the galaxy keeps finding ways to raise the stakes.” * MEETRA (nodding slowly): “The Sith were always loud in the Force.” * ATTON: “And this wasn’t exactly loud.” * MEETRA: “No.” She looks toward the stars. “It felt deliberate. And Controlled.” * ATTON: “Like someone knocking on the door.” She nods in agreement * ATTON (grimacing): “Great. So we’re not dealing with Sith.” * MEETRA: “I don’t know. I feel like it’s too early to say. And making that call would probably be dangerous to do now.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Crew">><<replace "#Crew">>The Crew * ATTON: “You ever get the feeling everyone’s drifting?” * MEETRA: “Explain.” * ATTON: “BAO-DUR rebuilding worlds. MIRA chasing causes. MICAL building a Jedi Order.” He gestures vaguely. “Feels like sooner or later this crew is going to scatter across the galaxy.” MEETRA watches him quietly, not sure how to respond. * ATTON: “Not that I blame anyone.” He taps the wall, as if to make a statement. * ATTON: “But you’re the reason we’re still together.” * MEETRA: “How so?” * ATTON: “Because you give us something to do that matters.” He leans back. “Purpose keeps people together.” MEETRA reflects on that. The warm feeling it gives her in her stomach is something…rare, but she likes it. * MEETRA: “Thank you, ATTON.” * ATTON (surprised): “For what?” * MEETRA: “For reminding me why I keep doing this.” * ATTON (smirking): “Careful. You keep thanking me and I’ll start thinking I’m wise.” * MEETRA: “Let’s not go that far…”<</replace>><</link>> <<back "Return to the EBON HAWK">>

EBON HAWK: T3-M4 <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1T3M4.jpeg" class="png"> As T3-M4 works dutifully in the EBON HAWK’s security console, MEETRA walks in. The droid beeps, welcoming her. She smiles at him, thankful for his reliable constance. * MEETRA: “Hello T3, how are you doing? What do you have for me? <<link "Navigation Data">><<replace "#Nav">>Navigation Data T3-M4 rolls up beside the holotable and projects a rotating star map. * MEETRA: “Those are navigation logs.” The projection zooms outward beyond the known hyperspace lanes. “Unknown Regions?” * T3-M4: “Bee-woo.” Several faint routes appear branching away from Republic space. * MEETRA: “Revan’s routes.” * T3-M4: “Chrr-beep-boop.” The routes form a pattern, carefully plotted jumps that avoid major systems. * MEETRA: “He was hiding his movements.” * T3-M4 (thoughtfully): “Beep-boop-whirr.” * MEETRA: “You think he was tracking something.” The projection highlights several systems along the routes. “These aren’t inhabited worlds.” * T3-M4 (dome swiveling): “Bweep.” * MEETRA: “Observation points.” She studies the map again. “You think Revan wasn’t wandering the Unknown Regions.” The routes converge toward a deeper region of space. “He was circling something.” * T3-M4 (lights flickering): “Bee-woo.” * MEETRA: “If whatever caused the disturbance came from that direction…” She sighs quietly. “Then we may be following the path he already walked.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Disturbance Analysis">><<replace "#DisturbAnal">>Disturbance Analysis T3-M4 activates his projector, filling the hold with a map of the galaxy. * T3-M4: “Bwee-doop-beep-whirr.” Points of light begin flashing across the map. * MEETRA: “Those are some of the recorded disturbances…” The lights appear across hundreds of systems. “...Everywhere.” * T3-M4: “Beep-boop.” He begins connecting the points, starting to create loose shapes * MEETRA: “You’re tracking the timing.” The map animates again, showing a ripple spreading outward. “A wave.” T3’s projector zooms toward the galactic center. * T3-M4: “Chrr-beep.” * MEETRA: “The origin point isn’t exact…but the pattern seems to start converging toward the Deep Core.” * T3-M4 (agreeing): “Bee-woo.” * MEETRA: “The Force-sensitive reactions match the same moment across the galaxy.” She folds her arms. “Not a natural phenomenon.” T3 produces another graph, showing different colors, symbolizing different data points. * MEETRA: “Psychological distress. Visions. Force echoes.” She nods slowly. “Exactly what we experienced on Ossus.” * T3-M4: “Boop.” * MEETRA: “You think it was intentional.” * T3-M4 (confident): “Bee-boop.” * MEETRA: “Like…a signal. Something reached out through the Force…” Her eyes unfocus, processing. “…and listened to what answered.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Ship">><<replace "#Ship">>The Ship T3-M4 pops open a small panel near the cockpit. * T3-M4: “Bweep-bweep-bweep.” * MEETRA: “Something wrong?” T3 projects a diagnostic readout. * MEETRA: “Hull stress…thruster misalignment… navigation buffer errors.” * T3-M4 (annoyed): “Chrr-bweep.” * MEETRA (sighing): “ATTON, again.” * T3-M4 (empathically): “Bweep!” * MEETRA: “You’ve told him before?” T3 projects a replay of ATTON shouting during a high-speed maneuver. * ATTON (recording): “Relax, T3! She can take it!” * T3-M4: “Bee-boop.” * MEETRA: “I’ll speak with him.” T3 beeps skeptically. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Recovered Jedi Archives">><<replace "#Archives">>Recovered Jedi Archives T3 activates his projector, ancient text scrolls across the air. * T3-M4: “Bweep-whirr.” * MEETRA: “Data recovered from Ossus. Thank you, T3” The text fragments stabilize. * MEETRA (reading): “These are older than the Republic.” * T3-M4 (proudly): “Beep.” Images appear, ancient Jedi temples and battles. * MEETRA: “That’s newer…the Great Sith War.” She studies one projection. “Exar Kun.” T3 plays another fragment, beeping. The image shifts to ancient Jedi Masters studying holocrons, cycling through. * MEETRA: “Nomi Sunrider. Master Odan-Urr.” * T3-M4 (softly): “Bee-woo.” * MEETRA: “The Jedi archives on Ossus held centuries of knowledge…before the Sith destroyed them.” She scrolls through the fragments. “It’s good that some of these teachings survived.” * T3-M4 (happily): “Beep-boop.” * MEETRA: “The Jedi once faced threats that nearly erased them.” She looks at the fading projection, then back to the droid, smiling.. “And they endured. Thank you again, T3” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Tython Historical Data">><<replace "#Tython">>Tython Historical Data T3 projects an image of the Tho Yor structures. * T3-M4: “Bweep-whirr.” * MEETRA: “Historical records.” The projection changes to ancient Je’daii temples. “Before the Jedi Order.” * T3-M4: “Boop.” * MEETRA: “The Je’daii believed balance meant understanding both Ashla and Bogan.” Images appear of Force adepts training. “Not suppressing one side… but studying both.” * T3-M4 (rotating his dome): “Bee-woo.” * MEETRA: “The modern Jedi Order abandoned that philosophy, at some point.” Another projection appears showing the new Tython enclave. “But the Jedi here are studying balance again. Perhaps the Order is finally remembering where it began.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Behavioral Logs of the Crew">><<replace "#Logs">>Behavioral Logs of the Crew T3 projects a chart labeled CREW PSYCHOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS. * T3-M4: “Bweep-boop-whirr.” * MEETRA: “You’ve been monitoring everyone.” * T3-M4 (proud): “Beep.” A graph appears labeled ATTON RAND. * MEETRA: “Elevated stress levels.” T3 plays a clip of ATTON muttering in the cockpit. * ATTON (recording): “If one more Jedi starts talking about destiny…” * T3-M4 (pausing the recording): “Bweep.” * MEETRA (annoyed): “Yes. That sounds like ATTON.” Another graph appears labeled MIRA. * MEETRA: “Heightened alertness.” T3 projects footage of MIRA cleaning a blaster. * MIRA (recording): “If the Force wants to solve this problem, it can start by showing up with a map.” * T3-M4: “Beep.” A third chart appears. * MEETRA: “BAO-DUR.” The graph is steady. “Low stress.” T3 displays a recording of BAO-DUR calmly repairing equipment. * BAO-DUR (recording): “...we’ll solve it eventually.” * T3-M4 (dome rotating): “Bweep.” Another graph appears labeled MEETRA SURIK. * MEETRA: “...I’m afraid to look at it.” The chart spikes repeatedly. “…yeah, I see it.” T3 plays a recording of her pacing the cockpit. * MEETRA (recording): “There has to be a pattern...” * T3-M4 (sympathetically): “Bee-woo.” * MEETRA: “So your analysis is that everyone aboard this ship is…stressed.” * T3-M4 (affirmative): “Boop.” * MEETRA: “Including you?” * T3-M4: “…” * MEETRA (smiling): “I’ll take that as a yes.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Revan’s Last Known Instructions">><<replace "#Revan">>Revan’s Last Known Instructions A holographic message begins to load, fighting through encryption. * MEETRA: “It’s encrypted…T3 what is this?” * T3-M4: “Bee-boop.” * MEETRA: “Is this…why didn’t you show it before?” * T3-M4 (cautiously): “Bweep.” * MEETRA: “Conditional programming. Ok.” She studies the file. “Revan wanted you to reveal this only if certain events occurred.” * T3-M4: “Boop.” * MEETRA: “The disturbance may have triggered the condition, huh.” The encrypted message flickers but does not fully open. “You still can’t access the entire recording.” * T3-M4 (apologetic): “Bee-woo.” * MEETRA: “What can you access?” T3 projects a short line of text. * HOLOGRAPHIC TEXT: “If the darkness moves again...the galaxy must be warned.” * MEETRA (exhaling slowly): “Revan…expected this, it feels like.” * T3-M4 (dome lowers slightly): “Bweep.” * MEETRA (resolute): “Then we’d better make sure the galaxy is ready.”<</replace>><</link>> <<back "Return to the EBON HAWK">>

EBON HAWK: BAO-DUR <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1BaoDur.png" class="png"> MEETRA walks into the garage of the EBON HAWK, observing BAO-DUR’s work at his makeshift data station. He senses her, turning around and giving her his attention. * BAO-DUR: “General.” * MEETRA: “Hello BAO-DUR…” <<link "Residual Energy from the Disturbance">><<replace "#DistEnergy">> Residual Energy from the Disturbance * MEETRA: “You’ve been studying the disturbance, since Ossus.” * BAO-DUR: “Yes, General.” He taps his datapad and a waveform appears. “From what T3 and the Republic sensors recorded, the event wasn’t simply a Force phenomenon. There was measurable physical displacement.” * MEETRA (frowning): “Displacement.” * BAO-DUR: “Energy moving through space. Not through hyperspace lanes or subspace channels…but through something closer to a gravitational resonance.” * MEETRA (studying the projection): “Like a shockwave.” * BAO-DUR: “Exactly.” He enlarges the waveform, giving more details to the screen. “But not one generated by matter. A natural explosion would create radiation signatures. We didn’t detect those.” * MEETRA: “So…the Force itself carried the wave.” * BAO-DUR: “Yes.” He pauses, working out how to share the concepts and facts in his head. * BAO-DUR: “Imagine striking a tuning fork. The vibration travels outward until it reaches another object capable of resonating.” * MEETRA: “Force-sensitives.” * BAO-DUR: “And, Force nexuses. Artifacts. Worlds like Ossus.” He gestures to the datapad. “The Force acted as the medium, but the energy behaved like a physical wave.” * MEETRA: “Something had to have created it, outside of natural actions.” * BAO-DUR: “That’s my conclusion.” She looks thoughtful, processing what he’s sharing. * MEETRA: “Could a single person do that?” * BAO-DUR (hesitating): “I don’t think so. Not by conventional means…” * MEETRA: “But?” * BAO-DUR: “If someone understood how to amplify the Force through technology, or a nexus…” He lets the thought hang. “Then they could reach across the galaxy, yes.” He closes the datapad. “And if they can do it once… they may be able to do it again.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Repairing the Ebon Hawk Sensors">><<replace "#Sensors">>Repairing the Ebon Hawk Sensors BAO-DUR adjusts a small device beneath the Hawk’s sensor console. * MEETRA: “Upgrading the scanners again?” * BAO-DUR: “Yes, General.” He tightens a coupling. “The Republic arrays the ADMIRAL mentioned are designed to detect gravitational anomalies. I’ve modified them to monitor fluctuations in subspace and electromagnetic fields as well.” * MEETRA: “Looking for the disturbance.” * BAO-DUR (eyeing her): “Or, its echo.” A display flickers to life. “Force events leave subtle physical traces. Minute distortions in space-time, changes in ionization patterns.” * MEETRA: “You think the HAWK can track them.” * BAO-DUR: “If the source creates another pulse, these sensors may allow us to triangulate the origin.” * MEETRA (nodding): “And determine what it’s doing.” * BAO-DUR: “Exactly.” He pauses. “We’re in a rare moment - the Force may leave us something measurable.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Rebuilding War-Torn Worlds">><<replace "#Rebuilding">>Rebuilding War-Torn Worlds BAO-DUR glances over at a screen, showing his models and formulas. * MEETRA: “Thinking about Telos.” * BAO-DUR (nodding): “Not just Telos.” He folds his arms. “After the war, the Republic asked engineers to help stabilize systems that had been devastated.” * MEETRA (smiling): “And of course, you volunteered yourself..” * BAO-DUR (calmly): “Yes. Dantooine irrigation systems. Peragus mining platforms. Refugee habitats on Onderon. Most of the work wasn’t dramatic. Rebuilding water processors. Power grids.” * MEETRA: “The quiet work.” * BAO-DUR: “The necessary work.” He sighs softly. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re rebuilding faster than the galaxy can heal.” * MEETRA: “You think the Republic might collapse again.” * BAO-DUR: “Wars leave fractures.” He glances toward her. “Infrastructure can be repaired quickly. Trust takes longer.” * MEETRA: “But you’re still trying.” * BAO-DUR: “Someone has to keep trying...” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Engineering the Jedi Enclaves">><<replace "#Engineering">>Engineering the Jedi Enclaves BAO-DUR studies a schematic of the Tython enclave. * MEETRA: “What are you analyzing there?” BAO-DUR zooms in on the layout. * BAO-DUR: “Structures influence how people think. How they feel.” * MEETRA: “Even the Force?” * BAO-DUR: “Especially the Force.” He gestures at the design. “Notice how the meditation chambers are aligned with the natural ley lines of the planet.” * MEETRA: “The builders listened to the land.” * BAO-DUR: “Exactly.” He studies the diagram. “The old Jedi temples often imposed symmetry on the environment.” * MEETRA: “Control.” * BAO-DUR: “Tython is different. Balance was built into the design.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "What BAO-DUR Has Lost">><<replace "#Lost">>What BAO-DUR Has Lost BAO-DUR sits quietly in the cargo hold, examining the joints of his mechanical arm. * MEETRA: “Your arm needs repairs?” * BAO-DUR: “No, General.” He rotates the metal fingers slowly. “Sometimes I wonder whether it’s a reminder…or just a burden.” * MEETRA: “Of Malachor.” * BAO-DUR (lowering his arm): “When I lost it during the Mandalorian Wars, it felt like the cost of doing what needed to be done. Now I’m not always sure.” He leans back against a crate. When we returned to Malachor six years ago, I used a remote to reactivate the Mass Shadow Generator.” * MEETRA (remembering): “Yes. Whatever happened to it?” She feels guilt in just recalling now. * BAO-DUR: “It was destroyed, by my instruction. It’s what reactivated the Mass Shadow Generator again.” He hangs his head, sentimental thoughts rising to his inscribed Zabrak face. * MEETRA: “You could build another…” * BAO-DUR: “I could.” He looks down. “But I’ve kept myself too busy to try.” The silence from BAO-DUR starts to give away the emotions he usually hides. He looks up, to her. * BAO-DUR: “We barely escaped that world alive, again.” * MEETRA (firm, encouraging): “Specifically because you chose to stay behind.” She takes a step closer to him. “You repaired the HAWK while the rest of us fought our way off the surface.” Her voice becomes quieter. “If you hadn’t done that, and reactivated the generator…none of us might have escaped Malachor.” BAO-DUR processes that, quietly. His emotions begin to plateau again. * BAO-DUR: “I was just doing my job.” * MEETRA: “You saved our lives. You’ve done it so much. You can’t forget that, especially in times like these.” * BAO-DUR (considering): “Thank you, General.” A faint calm settles over him. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Mass Shadow Generator">><<replace "#Generator">>The Mass Shadow Generator BAO-DUR looks thoughtful. * BAO-DUR: “General…if the Mandalorian Wars happened again…” He hesitates. “Would we make the same decision?” MEETRA doesn’t answer immediately. * MEETRA: “You mean Malachor.” * BAO-DUR (solemnly nodding): “Yes.” * MEETRA (exhaling slowly): “We’ve asked that question before.” * BAO-DUR: “Many times.” * MEETRA: “...The Mandalorians would have won otherwise.” * BAO-DUR: “I know.” Hollow silence follows their answers. MEETRA looks away, avoiding. * MEETRA: “The war ended that day.” * BAO-DUR: “And the consequences never did.” They both fall quiet. The question remains unanswered. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Trust and Peace">><<replace "#TrustPeace">>Trust and Peace * BAO-DUR: “General… do you think the galaxy ever truly leaves wartime?” * MEETRA: “You think we’re still fighting.” * BAO-DUR: “In a way.” He gestures toward the star map. “The Republic is rebuilding fleets. Governments are restoring defenses.” * MEETRA: “Preparing for another conflict.” * BAO-DUR: “Yes.” He pauses. “War leaves people suspicious.” * MEETRA: “Especially of the Jedi.” Her thoughts settle, before she continues. “They aren’t entirely wrong.” * BAO-DUR (nodding): “Do you think people will ever trust the Jedi again?” She studies the map, considering. * MEETRA: “Trust is earned slowly.” * BAO-DUR: “Then we have a long road ahead.” * MEETRA: “Yes.” * BAO-DUR (glancing toward her): “But if anyone can rebuild that trust…” * MEETRA (raising an eyebrow, smiling): “I think you’re looking at the wrong person.” BAO-DUR shakes his head slightly, giving her an earnest look. * BAO-DUR: “No, General.” He gestures to the crew quarters. “You’ve already done it once.” She hears that, sees him…and stays quiet, considering for her own self. <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Return to the EBON HAWK">>

EBON HAWK: MIRA <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1Mira.jpeg" class="png"> As MEETRA walks through the main hold of the EBON HAWK, she sees MIRA in the corner of her eye in the Storage Compartment. She still finds it funny that this is where a bounty hunter of her caliber decided to make her place in the ship, but she understands to put nothing past MIRA. As she thinks of this, MIRA notices MEETRA * MIRA: “What do you have your eye on, oh wise Jedi Master?” MEETRA shakes her head, laughing, and walks over to MIRA… <<link "Why She Stayed">><<replace "#Stayed">> Why She Stayed * MEETRA: “You’re maintaining that blaster again.” * MIRA: “Habit.” She snaps a component back into place. “A bounty hunter who doesn’t maintain their gear doesn’t stay a bounty hunter very long.” She glances at MEETRA. “Though I guess technically I’m not supposed to call myself that anymore.” * MEETRA: “You can call yourself whatever you want.” * MIRA (shrugging): “Maybe. But the Jedi part still feels strange.” She spins the blaster once in her hand before holstering it. “You know why I stayed with you, right?” * MEETRA (sarcastic): “Because you enjoy our company.” * MIRA (smirking lightly): “Don’t push it. I stayed because you’re the only Jedi I actually trust.” MEETRA watches her carefully, listening. MIRA doesn’t like opening up much, even now. * MIRA (continuing): “The rest of them…they talk about the Force like it’s this huge thing that swallows you whole. Like eventually you stop being a person and just become part of it.” She folds her arms. “That scares me.” * MEETRA: “You’re afraid of losing yourself.” * MIRA: “Exactly.” She gestures vaguely. “All this talk about balance and destiny and becoming one with the Force…it sounds like the end of individuality.” * MEETRA (leaning against the wall): “You’ve managed to stay yourself through worse things than the Force.” * MIRA (snorting): “Maybe.” She hesitates. “Sometimes I still wonder if becoming a Jedi was the right choice.” * MEETRA (smiling faintly): “Knowing you, you were never going to stay a bounty hunter forever.” * MIRA (alert): “Hey, I was good at it.” * MEETRA: “You were.” She pauses, giving MIRA a look. “But you care too much about people for that life to last.” MIRA looks away briefly. That hits a bit deeper than she was comfortable with. MEETRA sees that, and alters the conversation. * MEETRA: “So now you’re using the Force…with a bounty hunter’s instincts and a Mandalorian training background.” * MIRA: “When you say it like that…it sounds dangerous.” They both laugh quietly. MIRA leans back against the wall too. * MIRA: “The bounty hunter life had an expiration date anyway.” * MEETRA: “Why?” * MIRA: “You know…eventually you realize you’re chasing people for the wrong reasons.” She exhales, relaxing. “One way or another, I was going to stop.” She glances at MEETRA again. “At least this way I’m chasing the right things.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Skepticism of the Force">><<replace "#Skepticism">>Skepticism of the Force * MIRA: “When you talk to MICAL, do you ever actually listen to him talk about the Force?” * MEETRA: “Often.” * MIRA (feigning sickness): “The way he explains balance and harmony… it sounds like he’s giving a Senate speech.” * MEETRA (smiling faintly): “MICAL has always been comfortable in politics.” * MIRA: “Yeah, well, I’m not.” She folds her arms. “Some people are meant to talk about balance. Others are meant to kick down the door when balance stops working.” * MEETRA: “I feel like you’re the second kind.” * MIRA (grinning): “And the moment I find a decent planet without politics…” * MEETRA: “Yes?” * MIRA (snaps fingers): “You’ll never see me again.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Protecting Civilians">><<replace "#Protecting">>Protecting Civilians * MIRA: “You ever notice how Jedi spend a lot of time chasing mysteries?” * MEETRA: “It comes with the job.” * MIRA: “Yeah, but sometimes I wonder if they remember the people they’re supposed to be protecting.” She gestures toward the open holomap in the main hold, moving to a firm tone. “Every one of those systems has civilians living their lives. That’s the part I care about. If we ever lose sight of that…then all this Force business stops meaning anything.” * MEETRA (nodding slowly): “You’re right.” MIRA looks surprised. * MIRA: “That was easier than I expected.” * MEETRA (smiling): “I always need the reminder.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "War Stories">><<replace "#Stories">>War Stories * MIRA: “Can I ask you something about the Mandalorian Wars?” * MEETRA (shrugging): “Sure.” * MIRA (gesturing vaguely): “What did the galaxy feel like, to the Jedi…before it knew how bad it was going to get.” * MEETRA (growing thoughtful): “At first it felt distant. Like another conflict on the edge of the Republic.” * MIRA: “But it didn’t stay that way.” * MEETRA: “No.” She pauses. “When the Mandalorians started conquering systems…the scale of the war changed overnight.” * MIRA (watching closely): “For people on those planets, it wasn’t distant.” * MEETRA: “I know.” She looks down. “The war shaped all of us.” * MIRA (nodding): “Yeah…” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Myth of Heroes">><<replace "#Heroes">>The Myth of Heroes * MIRA: “People keep calling us heroes.” * MEETRA: “We have done some heroic things.” * MIRA: “Maybe.” She shakes her head. “Half the time it feels like we just survived things we probably shouldn’t have.” * MEETRA (raising an eyebrow): “You’re being very humble.” * MIRA: “I’m being realistic.” * MEETRA: “Those stories inspire people.” * MIRA (sighing): “Fine. But if anyone starts making holodramas about us…” * MEETRA: “You’ll disappear?” * MIRA: “Immediately.”<</replace>><</link>> <<back "Return to the EBON HAWK">>

EBON HAWK: JOLEE BINDO <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1Jolee.png" class="png"> As MEETRA walks around the EBON HAWK, she sees JOLEE relaxing on the bed of the Medical bay. His eyes are closed, but he starts talking to MEETRA. * JOLEE: “Got something on your mind, do you?” He sits up, pushing off the bed, giving her his attention… <<link "After the Jedi Civil War">><<replace "#After">> After The Jedi Civil War * MEETRA: “You never told me the full story. What actually brought you here. Not the reports. Not the fragments.” JOLEE exhales, already smiling like he’s been cornered into honesty. * JOLEE: “That’s because every time we talked, something important was on fire.” * MEETRA (turning to him): “I still want to hear it.” He leans against the wall, staff hooked beneath his arm. * JOLEE: “After Rakata Prime…everyone wanted closure. Star Forge destroyed. Malak’s Empire finished. Nice clean ending people could build monuments around.” He snorts. “But the Force doesn’t do clean endings. Revan had just disappeared. I felt it…shift, like old currents woke up. Things buried in the galaxy started stretching. JUHANI started feeling it too - different shape than mine. Same direction.” * MEETRA: “You thought it was Revan.” * JOLEE (immediate): “Of course we did! When something breaks reality, you blame the man who made a lifestyle out of doing that.” His expression tightens. “But this didn’t feel like him. Revan likes to leave fingerprints. This felt like we’d brushed against the core of the Force. So we followed it, borrowed a ship. Took routes hyperspace doesn’t like remembering. Places where gravity forgets the rules halfway through.” He glances upward at the ship's cold ceiling, reminiscing. * JOLEE (continuing, voice low): “And then we broke through those stormy clouds, on what we thought was an undiscovered planet. We found the ruins of Kaleth, a city that remembers being important. And above it, an ancient mystery that somehow stayed intact.” * MEETRA (quietly): “The Tho Yor.” * JOLEE: “We didn’t have a name yet for it yet. Just knew it wasn’t ours. We didn’t have much time to figure it out though.” He shifts, staff tapping once against the floor. “Flesh Raiders were everywhere. Feeding on the planet’s imbalance like parasites. Every raid made the storms worse. Every storm drove them deeper into the ruins.” * MEETRA (sneaking smile): “So you stayed, to try to fix it.” * JOLEE: “For years. Two stubborn Jedi who refused to leave.” His shoulders readjusted at the memory. “Every time we held ground, the storms eased. Every time we failed, the planet got louder. Soon enough it clicked for me - this world doesn’t care what you believe. It responds to what you do.” He allows the silence to settle, reminiscing on the struggles now in the past. * JOLEE (quieter): “Eventually, people started finding us. Survivors. Force-sensitives. Jedi who didn’t fit anywhere else anymore.” * MEETRA (giving an understanding smile): “And you let them stay. I know that feeling too well.” * JOLEE (crooked smile): “Well, someone had to make sure the Force didn’t rot while the galaxy argued about rebuilding.” He straightens, the old swagger locking back into place. “So here I am. Teaching kids on a forgotten world. Trying very hard not to call it an Order.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Jedi Order’s Failures">><<replace "#Failures">>The Jedi Order’s Failures * MEETRA: “You’ve seen the Jedi Order rise and fall more than once. Why did it fail before?” * JOLEE: “Now that’s a nice, simple question. Like asking why people trip over their own feet.” * MEETRA: “I’m serious.” * JOLEE: “So am I. The Order liked to pretend the Force was a neat little equation. Light on one side, dark on the other. Follow the rules, keep your emotions tidy, and the galaxy behaves.” * MEETRA: “And you think that was the mistake.” * JOLEE: “I know it was. The Jedi tried to control the Force by controlling themselves. That works…until the galaxy does something messy.” * MEETRA: “You’re circling something.” * JOLEE: “Your ‘wound.’” * MEETRA: “You don’t believe it’s real.” He smiles, smiling at himself. * JOLEE: “Oh, I believe something happened to you. Hard to ignore a woman who can turn half the galaxy upside down just by listening.” * MEETRA: “...That’s not what it is.” * JOLEE: “Maybe not. But every Jedi I’ve ever met who tried explaining the Force eventually started believing they understood it.” * MEETRA: “And you don’t think anyone ever can.” * JOLEE: “Oh, we can understand pieces of it. Just not the part where it decides we’re wrong.” * MEETRA: “You think my wound is wrong.” * JOLEE: “No. I think it’s something the old Order never had the humility to admit existed.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Nature of the Disturbance">><<replace "#Disturbance">>The Nature of the Disturbance * MEETRA: “What we felt…it wasn’t like any disturbance I’ve known.” * JOLEE: “You’re assuming it was meant to hurt us.” * MEETRA: “You think it wasn’t?” * JOLEE: “Think about it. If someone wanted to wipe out every Force-sensitive in the galaxy, there are simpler ways than giving them all headaches and bad dreams.” * MEETRA (curious): “So…what was it?” * JOLEE: “Probably a knock on the door.” * MEETRA (puzzled): “You think something was looking for us?” * JOLEE: “Maybe not us. Maybe it was looking for anyone who could answer.” * MEETRA: “That’s not comforting.” * JOLEE: “Never said it was.” * MEETRA: “Ok, so…if it was a signal, someone is listening for the reply.” * JOLEE: “Which makes me wonder something, and I don’t like the answer…what happens if the galaxy answers back?” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Revan">><<replace "#Revan">>Revan * MEETRA: “JOLEE, you knew Revan before the war.” * JOLEE: “Knew of him. Hard not to.” * MEETRA: “What made him different, to you? When you traveled with him.” * JOLEE (sighing): “You know. Most Jedi spend their lives asking the Force for permission.” * MEETRA: “Revan didn’t.” * JOLEE: “Not once. That’s what made him dangerous. It’s also what made him effective.” * MEETRA: “You admired the new version of him.” * JOLEE (eyeing her): “Careful there. Admiring someone and understanding them are two different things.” * MEETRA: “So which was it?” * JOLEE: “Revan listened to the Force the same way a gambler listens to the roll of dice. He knew the odds were terrible… and he played anyway.” * MEETRA: “You think he believed he would win.” * JOLEE: “No. I think he believed the galaxy would lose if he didn’t try. Funny thing is…he carried it like it was nothing.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Je’daii Teachings">><<replace "#Jedaii">>Je’daii Teachings * MEETRA: “The Je’daii believed balance meant embracing both sides of the Force. I’d like to know about more of that from you.” * JOLEE: “They believed a lot of things. Most of them smarter than what came after, when the Jedi simplified it.” * MEETRA: “Meaning?” * JOLEE: “Balance became obedience. Light became purity. Dark became failure. And the Tho Yor?” His eyes twinkle. “Now those are interesting.” JOLEE’s body loosens, his excitement getting the better of him. * JOLEE: “Let’s put it this way - if your ancestors leave behind giant Force monuments that nobody can explain, odds are they weren’t the ones who built them.” * MEETRA: “Then what were they for?” * JOLEE: “Teaching. Sometimes the Force teaches by letting people watch what happens when balance breaks.” * MEETRA: “You think the Tho Yor were meant to observe.” * JOLEE: “Or guide.” * MEETRA: “...Or warn.” * JOLEE (grinning): “Now you’re thinking like an old hermit!” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Prophecy">><<replace "#Prophecy">>Prophecy * MEETRA: “Why do the Jedi believe they were meant to protect the galaxy.” * JOLEE: “Because it’s a nice story to tell recruits.” * MEETRA (inclining her head): “And that’s why you don’t believe it.” * JOLEE (gruff): “I believe the Jedi want to help the galaxy. But prophecy makes people lazy. If the Force chooses the heroes, why bother questioning yourself?” * MEETRA: “You think the Jedi fell into that trap.” * JOLEE (scoffing): “Oh, repeatedly!” * MEETRA: “Then what do you think the Jedi should be?” * JOLEE (shrugging): “People who help when they can…and admit when they’re wrong.” * MEETRA: “I’m not sure if that sounds simple, or is too simplistic.” She considers. “Then why did the Order struggle with it?” * JOLEE: “Because simple ideas are the hardest ones for institutions to follow.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Fear in the Force">><<replace "#Fear">>Fear in the Force * MEETRA: “I feel like you’ve been quiet about the disturbances.” * JOLEE (looking off to the side): “I’ve been listening.” * MEETRA: “To what?” * JOLEE: “Everyone else.” * MEETRA (eyebrow raised): “You feel something spreading.” * JOLEE (nodding): “Fear. From everyone sensitive enough to notice the galaxy just blinked.” * MEETRA: “They’re afraid.” * JOLEE: “Hard not to be.” * MEETRA: “And you’re not?” * JOLEE: “Oh, I’m plenty scared. Comes with age. I just know people are going to start looking for someone who isn’t afraid.” * MEETRA (reluctant): “And you think that’s me.” * JOLEE (nodding): “I think you’re the one they’ll follow. Because the galaxy doesn’t need perfect leaders, even though they’ll beg for it.” * MEETRA: “What does it need?” * JOLEE (considering): “Ones who keep walking forward, even when they’re scared.” <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Return to the EBON HAWK">>

EBON HAWK: MICAL <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1Mical.png" class="png"> In the Port Dormitory of the EBON HAWK, MEETRA activates her datapad, bringing up the holonet. After a few taps, she waits, and is greeted by MICAL. * MICAL: “MEETRA, it is good to see you. How may I help?” <<link "Restarting the Jedi Order">><<replace "#JediRestart">>Restarting the Jedi Order * MEETRA: “You’ve been chasing the idea of the Jedi Order across half the galaxy. Dantooine. Alderann. Coruscant’s Temple. Manaan.” Her jaw tightens. “And you still don’t have a single place to point to and say: Here - this is where the Jedi stand.” * MICAL (smiling faintly, unoffended): “No, I don’t.” He turns to face her fully now, earnest eyes steady. “But I have felt them. Moments, pockets of stillness where the Force gathers, without being asked or suggested. Places where people slow down, and choose to listen, to heal. If the Jedi are to return, they can’t arrive like conquerors reclaiming ruins. They have to grow into the galaxy again. Root themselves in it.” MEETRA looks at him again. There he is - the core of him, beyond the historian. Not the analyst. The believer. * MEETRA (quietly): “...And what if the galaxy doesn’t want us?” Old scars fill the space between her words. MICAL doesn’t answer immediately. He studies her expression, sees the resistance she doesn’t bother hiding. He’s always seen it. * MICAL: “Then we listen. And we adapt. That was the mistake before - believing the Order existed apart from the galaxy. Above it.” His voice firms, just slightly. “We barely survived paying the cost of that belief.” MEETRA processes that word again...belief. * MEETRA: “I’m tired of listening, of being proof. I’m worried that it doesn’t seem to come from anywhere else. Tired of people deciding the future based on whether I survived the past.” * MICAL (watching carefully): “You’re afraid.” He’s not accusing, just observing. * MEETRA (stiff): “I’m cautious.” * MICAL (smiling softly): “You’ve earned caution. But fear?” He shakes his head. “Fear would have kept you in exile.” Silence stretches between them, with the quiet static pulsing in the background. * MEETRA: “You think I won’t repeat their mistakes,” she says at last. It’s not a question. * MICAL (slowly): “I think, that you are the only Jedi alive who knows exactly how easy it is to become the wrong thing - and chooses, every day, not to.” He meets her eyes. “That’s not weakness, MEETRA. That’s wisdom the old Order never learned.” Her throat tightens. She hates that he sees her so clearly with this. Hates that part of her believes him. * MEETRA: “What happens when they reject the Jedi? What do we do then?” * MICAL: “Then we thank them for listening, and we keep moving. The Force will make room for this. It already is.” His gaze lifts, almost reverent. “I can feel it.” MEETRA closes her eyes. She thinks of the now empty temples. Of broken councils. Of echoes that never learned to let go. Then…she thinks of quiet places. Of people breathing. Of the Force without banners or ranks. She opens her eyes, breathes in. * MEETRA (quietly): “Ok. I hear it again. I hear your belief. We'll keep seeking, keep pushing.” MICAL inclines his head, gratitude clear but restrained. * MICAL: “That’s all I would ever ask.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Jedi Reparations">><<replace "#JediReparations">>Jedi Reparations * MEETRA (voice even): “How is the Temple? On Coruscant?” * MICAL: “The Republic has posted caretakers. Uniformed ones. No more private crews tearing stones out of history for credits. The halls are sealed, guarded for the future.” Relief flickers through MEETRA before she can stop it. Ossus. Coruscant. Ruined enclaves picked clean after the war. At least that bleeding has slowed. * MEETRA: “How are the Jedi, in the galaxy?" MICAL allows himself a small smile - brief, controlled. * MICAL: “I keep track of where they go. When I see movement, I check in, quietly. Some answer, some don’t out of protection.” His gaze sharpens. “They’re careful. As they should be.” Good. Staying hidden is important. * MEETRA: “And...how is the Senate taking all of this?” * MICAL: “They're trying,” MICAL answers honestly. “Chancellor Tol Cressa understands that stability isn’t built with fleets alone. A handful of the senators do too - the ones old enough to remember what was, before the war.” A pause. “They work with me. Slowly. With restraint.” MEETRA exhales. That, at least, is unexpected mercy. * MICAL (continuing): “They’re asking questions. About why the growing Order haven't returned to the Temple.” She stiffens. Of course they want to know Tython’s location. * MEETRA: “You think they should as well.” * MICAL (voice deeper): “I believe a visible presence would steady the galaxy, as before. A symbol people can point to.” His voice softens. “But I understand why you don’t want one yet. Why you and the others keep the Jedi scattered.” JOLEE’s laughter echoes faintly in her memory. JUHANI’s caution. Survival written into choice. * MEETRA: “It isn’t fear. It’s timing.” * MICAL: “I know.” Frustration edges his calm. “Still - it’s difficult, waiting, explaining it. Only acting when called. Reading signs instead of maps.” He looks at her. “But I’m grateful the steps taken follow the Accords. Quiet help. No proclamations.” She meets his eyes. Trust passes between them, unspoken. * MEETRA: “Patience. Just a little longer.” * MICAL (nodding): “I shall keep attentive to the Jedi's movements.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Historical Parallels to the Disturbance">><<replace "#HistDist">>Historical Parallels to the Disturbance * MICAL: “I’ve been reviewing older records since the disturbance, looking for precedent.” She smiles. He’s always looking for the historical reference. * MEETRA: “The Jedi archives are full of disturbances, I’m sure...” * MICAL: “Localized ones. Wars. Catastrophes. Mass deaths. This was different. Even the oldest records rarely describe something on that scale.” * MEETRA: “Rarely?” * MICAL: “There are fragments. Accounts from early explorers. Strange descriptions written by scholars who didn’t fully understand what they were witnessing. Entire worlds feeling sudden dread. Jedi meditations collapsing into visions. Force nexuses reacting simultaneously across distant systems.” * MEETRA: “You think they experienced something like this.” * MICAL: “Possibly. But, the Republic and Order was smaller then. Their ability to communicate across the galaxy was limited.” He pauses, thoughtful. “If an event like this occurred thousands of years ago…they may never have realized how widespread it was.” * MEETRA: “So…it would appear as isolated incidents. The patterns aren’t matching up.” * MICAL: “Yes.” He studies her through the holovid. “But your perspective may be more valuable than any archive.” * MEETRA: “Because of the wound.” * MICAL: “Yes, and…because you perceive the Force differently.” * MEETRA (sighing, uncomfortable): “You want my interpretation…it didn’t feel like destruction. It felt like…something reaching into the Force, and listening.” * MICAL: “…That aligns with a troubling possibility.” * MEETRA: “Which is?” * MICAL: “That the disturbance wasn’t meant to harm anyone. Maybe they sent it out…to see who would notice.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Revan and the Unknown Regions">><<replace "#Revan">>Revan and the Unknown Regions * MICAL: “I’ve also been reviewing again what little we know about Revan’s departure. Looking at it with new perspective, what we do have is intriguing.” * MEETRA (curious): “Go on.” * MICAL: “Before he disappeared, Revan spent years studying ancient records - Rakata ruins, Sith archives, anything referencing unknown threats beyond Republic space. He believed something was coming, and he believed the Republic wasn’t ready.” * MEETRA: “Yes that’s why he originally said he left.” The resentment edges her tone. * MICAL: “Yes. But there’s another possibility. Revan may have already discovered evidence or fragments of what it was. He may have left to understand it, instead of confront it. * MEETRA: “Revan rarely did anything without a plan…” * MICAL: “Exactly. Given the nature of the disturbance, I wonder if this is connected to him.” * MEETRA (considering): “Revan vanishes, searching for a hidden enemy…and now something touches the Force across the entire galaxy.” * MICAL: “It could be coincidence, but I would prefer not to believe that. It’s fair to believe he would still be alive, and if true he could still be preparing the galaxy for it. * MEETRA (reluctant): “That could be it. But there’s nothing to argue for something else, either.” * MICAL: “Yes, true. To that point, the question isn’t what the disturbance was…it’s whether Revan expected it.” * MEETRA: “…Or whether he’s the only one who understands it…”<</replace>><</link>> <<back "Return to the EBON HAWK">>

EBON HAWK: BASTILA SHAN <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1Bastila.png" class="png"> In the Port Dormitory of the EBON HAWK, MEETRA activates her datapad, bringing up the holonet. After a few taps, she waits, and is greeted by AMBASSADOR SHAN. * BASTILA: “Hello MEETRA. Is there something you wish to speak to me about?” <<link "The Nature of the Distortion">><<replace "#Distortion">>The Nature of the Distortion * MEETRA: “I wanted to talk to you more about the Force Distortions…” * BASTILA (concerned): “I’ve spent days meditating on the disturbance. I still hesitate to call it an attack. A power capable of touching every Force-sensitive in the galaxy could have done far worse.” * MEETRA: “It felt deliberate.” * BASTILA: “Yes…but deliberate doesn’t always mean hostile.” * MEETRA: “You think it was testing us. Like a probe.” * BASTILA: “Yes, observing us. That possibility troubles me, because of the implied intent and patience. I’m not sure what else I should say about it beyond that.” * MEETRA: “You think whoever caused it expected someone to notice.” * BASTILA: “Or hoped they would. It felt like a message. And if it was…we have yet to understand what it was trying to say.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "The Order and Responsibility of Leadership">><<replace "#Leadership">>The Order and Responsibility of Leadership * MEETRA: “I wanted to know what the Senate thinks about the Jedi, currently.” * BASTILA: “‘Carefully’ is the only way the Senate will tolerate us, unfortunately.” * MEETRA (dissuaded): “They still fear the Jedi.” * BASTILA: “After the Mandalorian Wars, the Jedi Civil War, and everything that followed…we can’t blame them. Fear makes people cautious, and the Republic is still fragile. If the Senate believes the Jedi are rising too quickly, they will push back.” * MEETRA (suggestive): “That’s a narrow path to walk.” * BASTILA (gently nodding): “Someone must. And I am in a unique position to do it.” * MEETRA: “Do you and MICAL intend to rebuild the Order exactly as it was?” * BASTILA: “The old Order worked for thousands of years, so for the most part, yes.” * MEETRA: “...until it didn’t.” The weighted resentment holds her words. * BASTILA (softened): “True.” She pauses. “But the Mandalorian Wars were an extraordinary crisis. Which is precisely why stability matters.” * MEETRA (suggestive): “You see the old structure provides that? Even with all of the old Masters gone?” * BASTILA (direct): “I think abandoning it entirely would create chaos.” She pauses, adjusting her tone. “This is why you hold your role, of Jedi training, of the philosophy the Order will use.” * MEETRA (conceding): “Yes…you’re right. Do you believe the Republic will accept what the New Order will be?” * BASTILA: “I don’t know for certain, but I do know the new Jedi I see,” alluding to MEETRA, “show all the promise of being the leadership the Republic needs.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Revan">><<replace "#Revan">>Revan * BASTILA: “May I ask you something…personal?” MEETRA nods in agreement * BASTILA: “Do you believe Revan is still alive?” MEETRA considers her response, causing a long pause. * MEETRA (quiet): “BASTILA…I’ve spent years searching for him. Every trail eventually faded.” * BASTILA (pressing): “That sounds like defeat.” * MEETRA: “It isn’t.” She swallows her hesitance. “I don’t think Revan wants to be found.” * BASTILA (narrow): “…You’re certain of that.” * MEETRA: “As certain as anyone can be.” A short, pregnant pause. * BASTILA: “Do you think the disturbance is connected to what he left to face?” * MEETRA (considering): “It’s possible. Revan rarely moved without purpose.” * BASTILA (looking to the side): “I know when he left…he had a reason. I wish he had shared it.” She looks back to MEETRA. “And you believe we should continue what we’re doing.” * MEETRA (shrugging): “I believe that’s what he would want.” * BASTILA (exhaling softly): “Thank you for answering. I needed to ask…even if the answer was uncertain.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Force Wounds">><<replace "#Wounds">>Force Wounds * BASTILA: “I’d like to ask a question, about you, that I’ve been meaning to ask. You have more experience with Force Wounds than any living Jedi.” * MEETRA (hesitant): “...Experience isn’t the word I’d choose.” * BASTILA: “Nevertheless, you understand them. Can disturbances like this spread?” * MEETRA: “In…specific circumstances, yes. Force Wounds propagate through resonance.” * BASTILA: “Meaning?” * MEETRA: “Trauma in the Force echoes outward. If another event shares the same pattern, the two can amplify each other. Like harmonics.” * BASTILA: “It reminds me of how Battle Meditation works.” * MEETRA (nodding): “There are similarities, I can see them. But I think the intent, is different.” * BASTILA (curious): “Explain.” * MEETRA (breathing in): “Battle Meditation shapes emotions deliberately, whatever it may be, like a guiding hand. Force Wounds aren’t guided. They simply spread, through echoes they cause, normally through negative emotions or experiences.” * BASTILA: “Which concerns me.” * MEETRA: “Why?” * BASTILA: “If this disturbance grows…the entire galaxy could begin resonating with it.” * MEETRA: “That’s possible.” * BASTILA (tipping her head): “And you say that very calmly. Why?” * MEETRA: “Panic won’t change the Force. But understanding the Distortion might. I believe we should be focusing on that. * BASTILA (nodding): “Agreed.” <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Return to the EBON HAWK">>

EBON HAWK: CARTH ONASI <img src="Act1/EbonHawk1Carth.png" class="png"> In the Port Dormitory of the EBON HAWK, MEETRA activates her datapad, bringing up the holonet. After a few taps, she waits, and is greeted by ADMIRAL ONASI. * CARTH: “Hello MEETRA. Something on your mind?” <<link "Republic Military Readiness">><<replace "#Readiness">> Republic Military Readiness * MEETRA: “ADMIRAL, given that we’re going to be going into confrontation in the future with…whatever put out the Distortion, I’d like to know the state of readiness of the Republic military.” CARTH nods in acknowledgement. She knows he wouldn’t share anything like this, unless he also agreed about its possibility. He crosses his arms, looking out beyond the holovideo. * CARTH: “The Republic Navy survived the wars… but just barely. Half our heavy cruisers were destroyed during the Mandalorian Wars. The Jedi Civil War finished off another good portion. A lot of veterans didn’t make it back.” He pauses. “The people flying our ships now are good officers - but many of them have never fought a real fleet engagement.” * MEETRA: “Inexperience is dangerous.” * CARTH: “So is overconfidence. And right now, the Senate thinks peace is permanent. I’ve spent too many years fighting to believe that.” * MEETRA: “What threats remain?” * CARTH (considering): “Sith remnants, scattered warlords, pirate coalitions taking advantage of weakened sectors. General instability. The Republic looks strong from the outside, but there are a lot of cracks holding it together.” * MEETRA: “Then why not prepare the fleet?” * CARTH (sighing): “Because the Senate won’t authorize it.” * MEETRA: “Without evidence…and that’s why you sent us out.” * CARTH: “Right. If I start mobilizing fleets without a clear enemy, the Republic will assume the Navy is preparing for another war.” * MEETRA: “And that could create panic, before anything else happens.” * CARTH: “Exactly.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Trust">><<replace "#Trust">>Trust * CARTH: “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” * MEETRA (nodding): “Go ahead.” * CARTH: “How do the Jedi plan to rebuild trust with the people of the Republic? I know what the Republic thinks, but not from you.” * MEETRA: “That’s a difficult question. But it’s an important question…” She sighs, breathing in. “Many worlds still remember the wars. They remember Jedi leading armies, and fallen Jedi destroying entire systems. To most civilians, the difference isn’t always clear. That’s the trust what we’ve been fighting to earn again. * CARTH: “How?” * MEETRA: “By helping where we can. Quietly. Sometimes using the Jedi Accords…sometimes on a whim.” * CARTH: “That sounds ideal…but the Republic might need the Jedi publicly if things get worse.” She winces inside. She knew he would bring this up. * MEETRA: “If we appear too quickly, people will assume another war is coming. That’s why we’ve been preparing quietly” * CARTH (nodding, understanding): “And avoiding any alarm to the Senate.” * MEETRA: “Yes, as long as we can. For now.” * CARTH (raising an eyebrown): “That’s a delicate balance.” * MEETRA (resolute): “Yes, but the Jedi are used to walking difficult paths. The Force aids us in understanding and direction.” CARTH studies her for a moment, trying to glean something through the blue static of the holovid. * CARTH: “Just remember something, for me. If the Republic sees the Jedi standing with them, not above them…it’ll go a long way.” * MEETRA: “That’s the intention.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Revan’s Legacy">><<replace "#Legacy">>Revan’s Legacy * CARTH: “You ever think about how strange this all is? Revan’s gone… but everything we’re dealing with still feels connected to him somehow.” * MEETRA (knowing smile): “Revan had that effect.” * CARTH (smiling back): “You’re telling me.” CARTH exhales, leaning in closer. “I spent years fighting for him. Then fighting against him. Then, unknowingly fighting with him!” * MEETRA: “And now you’re leading the fleet he helped save.” * CARTH: “Yeah…that’s the problem, sometimes. The comparison. * MEETRA (sympathizing): “That can’t be easy.” * CARTH: “Revan saw things other people didn’t. Strategy, politics…the bigger picture. Sometimes I get lost in how he carried it all.” * MEETRA: “You’re doing what the Republic needs.” * CARTH: “Maybe.” CARTH looks away again, probably at the stars beyond the viewport. “But when something like this disturbance happens…” * MEETRA (nodding): “You wonder what Revan would do.” * CARTH: “…Yeah.” * MEETRA (directly, softly): “Revan trusted the people around him.” * CARTH (eyebrows lifting): “You think that’s the lesson?” * MEETRA: “Yeah, if that’s what you’re looking for…I think it’s why he succeeded.” * CARTH (nodding slowly): “Then I guess I’ll keep doing the same. Thank you, MEETRA”<</replace>><</link>> <<back "Return to the EBON HAWK">>

DANTOOINE: The HEROES <<link "ATTON">><<replace "#ATTON">> ATTON The dim light of the Enclave filters across the disorganized piles of artifacts. ATTON leans against a half-collapsed column, arms crossed, watching MEETRA move through the clutter. He breaks the silence first, voice edged with his usual humor, but quieter than normal. * ATTON: “Gotta say, Exile…if this is your idea of redecorating, you’ve really nailed the ‘crypt chic’ look. All it needs is a few sabacc tables and a cantina band.” MEETRA pauses, dusting off an old datapad, but doesn’t answer right away. ATTON’s smirk fades, his eyes flicking away from hers. * ATTON (softer): “Truth is… I don’t know what to do with places like this anymore. Wars end, ghosts stay. And I keep following you because you’re the only thing that makes any of it feel like it matters. But…I’m tired of chasing shadows. Someday I’d like to stop running games and just… be.” MEETRA steps closer, laying a steady hand on his shoulder. The Force hums faintly through the contact, her silence speaking louder than words. * MEETRA: “You’ve already found more peace than you think, ATTON. And when you’re ready…rest will find you, too.” He huffs a laugh, half-cynical, half-grateful, and shakes his head. * ATTON: “Careful. Keep saying things like that, and I might start believing you.” She squeezes his shoulder once, then moves on through the vault of relics, leaving ATTON to lean back against the stone, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "MIRA">><<replace "#MIRA">>MIRA MIRA crouches beside a crate overflowing with old Jedi relics: half-broken lightsabers, robes stiff with age, cracked datapads. She flicks a metal cylinder with her finger, and it clatters dully against the side. * MIRA: “So… this is what saving the galaxy looks like now? Dusty junk and broken glowsticks. Not exactly the treasure haul I was hoping for.” * MEETRA (smirking, kneeling beside her): “Depends what you’re hoping to find.” MIRA exhales through her nose, flipping a small holoprojector over in her hand. It flickers briefly - an image of an unknown Jedi Master, static-filled and ghostly. * MIRA: “I used to think Jedi stuff was just…dead weight. Mystics with their heads in the clouds while the rest of us tried to survive the streets. But now…I don’t know. After everything we’ve seen - Manaan, Kashyyyk, Malachor, even Ossus - maybe some of this junk matters.” * MEETRA: “It does. Maybe not to the galaxy yet…but to us. To what comes next.” MIRA rolls her eyes, though there’s no real bite in it. She sets the holoprojector down carefully among the others. * MIRA: “Yeah, yeah. The great Jedi cause. You know, I never figured I’d be part of that. Mercs don’t usually get written into temple walls.” * MEETRA: “You’ve saved more lives than most Jedi ever will. The Order could use more like you.” MIRA smirks, but there’s something softer underneath it. * MIRA: “Careful, 'Master'. Keep talking like that and I might start charging the Jedi for my services.” MEETRA grins back, standing. MIRA glances around the cluttered chamber one last time, arms crossed. * MIRA (quietly): “Guess it’s not about what you keep. It’s about what’s still worth carrying.” MEETRA smiles, then sees something shining out of a container box. She grabs it, handing it to MIRA. * MEETRA (grinning): “Pick a comfort kyber crystals, any color.” * MIRA (feigning surprise): “Aww you shouldn’t have!” MEETRA nods once, the two sharing wordless understanding before she moves on. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "BAO-DUR">><<replace "#BAO-DUR">>BAO-DUR BAO-DUR kneels near a workbench piled with broken lightsaber hilts and pieces of droid plating. His metal arm hums faintly as he lifts a cracked emitter, turning it over in the light. He doesn’t look up when MEETRA steps beside him - he speaks softly, voice measured, like a thought spoken aloud. * BAO-DUR: “I used to think rebuilding was just putting things back the way they were. Patch the hull, fix the frame, make it look whole again. But looking at all this…it’s not that simple, is it?” MEETRA studies the fragments with him. Some are beyond repair, others just waiting for a steady hand. * MEETRA: “Sometimes rebuilding means accepting the scars. Letting the break become part of what holds it together.” He exhales slowly, nodding. His gaze lingers on the mess of parts before setting them down carefully, almost reverently. * BAO-DUR: “I can fix machines, ships, weapons…but people, Orders, worlds…? That’s a different kind of repair. Still…if anyone can solder the galaxy back into something worth keeping, it’s you General. I just hope I can do my part.” MEETRA rests a hand against his metal arm, grounding him with quiet certainty. * MEETRA: “You already are. Every time you choose to stay.” BAO-DUR meets her eyes for a moment, then smiles faintly, the kind of rare, tired smile that carries more weight than words. He nods once, firmly, and returns to carefully setting the relics in order. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "JOLEE">><<replace "#JOLEE">>JOLEE The sound of soft footfalls echoes across the empty hall. MEETRA looks up from a crate of robes as a familiar laugh drifts through the dust - low, knowing, almost amused. * JOLEE: “Well, I’ll be. I half-expected to find you knee-deep in another war, not waist-deep in the leftovers of one.” MEETRA turns to see JOLEE step into the light filtering through the broken ceiling. The light beams exaggerate his appearance - his age, patched robe, beard gone mostly white, eyes still sharp and amused. * MEETRA (smirking): “Give it time. The day’s not over yet.” * JOLEE (chuckling): “Still got that spark. Good. The galaxy’s dreary enough without another brooding Jedi.” He walks along the scattered relics, fingers brushing a cracked lightsaber hilt before resting on a datapad buried under dust. * JOLEE: “So this is what you’ve been up to. Collecting ghosts and calling it progress.” MEETRA: “Someone has to remember what came before. Every piece in here belonged to someone who believed they were doing the right thing.” * JOLEE: “And I’m sure half of them were wrong - that’s what makes us interesting.” He smirks. “History’s best written by fools who meant well.” They share a quiet laugh. Then MEETRA’s expression softens - a question forming in her eyes before she speaks it aloud. * MEETRA: “You knew Revan. After the Mandalorian Wars, during the Civil war. I had left before he really changed." She looked up at him. "What was he really like, JOLEE? When he wasn’t being the hero or the monster?” JOLEE exhales through his nose, eyes distant for a moment. * JOLEE: “He was… complicated. Smarter than anyone had a right to be, and twice as stubborn. When I met him, he didn’t even know who he was - just this lost soul trying to make sense of the galaxy he unknowingly broke. Even then…there was something good in him. A light buried under all that guilt.” * MEETRA: “Do you think he ever found peace?” * JOLEE (shakes his head slowly): “No. Not Revan. He wasn’t built for that. Some people are meant to keep moving - chasing answers they’ll never find. But I think he found…purpose. And sometimes, that’s close enough.” MEETRA studies him quietly. * MEETRA: “Where do you think he went?” * JOLEE (softly shrugging): “Past the Rim. Past the maps. He went looking for what scared him most - and for a man like Revan, that’s saying something. If he’s still out there…” he smiles faintly “…then maybe he found what the Jedi never could. Or maybe he’s still fighting to keep it from finding us.” The room falls quiet again - just the wind moving through the open archways. * MEETRA (softly): “You sound like you believe he’s still alive.” * JOLEE (huffs): “I’ve seen stranger things than a Jedi refusing to stay dead. But whether he’s alive or gone, what matters is what you do with what he left behind. He set the pieces in motion, he even gave some to you." He gestures to the T3-M4 and the EBON HAWK. "You decide what they become.” She nods, passively accepting the truth. He pats her on the shoulder, the same steady hand that once guided another lost Jedi on another path. * JOLEE: “Now come on, kid. Stop brooding. The galaxy’s got enough relics — don’t you go turning into one.” MEETRA smirks faintly as JOLEE turns to leave, the edges of his cloak fading into the light. For a moment, she swears she can feel both him - and Revan - watching her with quiet, knowing pride. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "T3-M4">><<replace "#T3-M4">>T3-M4 T3-M4 rolls through a narrow aisle of stacked crates, his photoreceptors flickering as he scans the messy rows of relics. He stops before a pile of disconnected holocrons, beeping curiously as he projects a cone of blue light over them. Meetra follows behind, arms folded, watching with quiet amusement. * MEETRA: “You’ve done half this sorting yourself, haven’t you?” T3 emits a short, proud trill - “Bwooo-deet!” - before displaying a rotating hologram: artifacts tagged with mismatched notes from planets MEETRA has visited recently. A web of glowing data lines connects them…then promptly collapses into static. The little droid lets out a low, disappointed warble. * MEETRA (kneeling beside him, smiling): “It’s all right. Even the Force can’t organize this mess.” T3 chirps indignantly, projecting a miniature schematic of the Enclave with color-coded dots showing where he’s already stored fragments and holocrons. The map flickers proudly, then flashes red over the areas still unfinished. * MEETRA: “You’ve been busy.” T3 whistles a long, weary tone - a sound that almost conveys exhaustion. * MEETRA (gently): “I know. You’ve been carrying all of this since the HAWK first left the Core. Revan’s paths, my own, every battle, every world… You’ve kept the memory of everything we’ve lost.” T3 emits a soft “Whee-dwoo…” and projects an image from his archives: the EBON HAWK landing on Dantooine years ago, the Enclave still in ruins, the same hall now whole again behind them. * MEETRA: “Full circle.” T3 lets out a hopeful “Woop-woo!” and swivels toward a nearby workbench. His dome lights blink expectantly - he knows that tone in her voice. * MEETRA (smiling to herself): “Let’s see what I can do for you, old friend.” She opens a toolkit and begins sifting through salvaged components from Kashyyyk and Telos — focusing crystals, droid memory nodes, pieces of Rakatan interface circuitry from Tython’s vaults. T3 beeps excitedly, unfolding a maintenance panel with a click-whirr of trust. <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Explore the Dantooine Enclave">>

TELOS IV: Preparation <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> Telos IV holds its place in space, a blue-white marble wrapped in cloud and light. CITADEL STATION gives a metallic gleam in orbit above it, alive with motion. Fighter patrols drift between arms of the station like sparks off a forge. Defense beacons pulse crimson. The EBON HAWK drops from hyperspace into the middle of organized chaos. Warning channels blare. Militia chatter overlaps. No one has seen an enemy - but everyone is ready for one. Inside the cockpit, the HEROES prepare to dock. * ATTON: “None of our shadows on sensors. But the militia squads look ready to shoot the next shadow that moves.” * MIRA: “Can you blame them? Telos lost its atmosphere once because of an attack. It would’ve been more last time if it wasn’t for MEETRA”, glancing at her. * BAO-DUR (reading off his datapad): “The ADMIRAL has ordered a full rally here. Telos has the infrastructure to coordinate a counter strike and enough guns to cover an adequate defense. If the Citadel’s this alert, the Lieutenant must be convinced the next hit will be here.” * MEETRA: “He’s right. What hit Dantooine isn’t stopping, and this is a logical fallback. Telos can shield and supply the northeast Hydian Front if we can keep it standing. We’ll share what we know, we’ll help them prepare - before the darkness finds this world too. We can stop the initial attack here.” The comm bursts to life. LIEUTENANT DOL GRENN’s voice, clipped and urgent. * GRENN (over comm): “EBON HAWK, this is CITADEL STATION Command. You’re cleared for Docking Bay 03. We’re at full combat readiness. The ADMIRAL sends his regards - he’s en route with reinforcements, but until he arrives, I’m the ranking officer. Welcome back, GENERAL SURIK…such as it is.” * MEETRA: “Understood, LIEUTENANT. We’ll dock immediately.” * GRENN (gruff): “Good. Come armed.” The docking bay shudders with activity as the EBON HAWK touches down. Sirens echo through every corridor; technicians sprint across gantries; blaster packs and shield batteries roll out of cargo lifts. The air smells of ozone and cold metal. LIEUTENANT GRENN meets them at the end of the ship’s ramp, helmet under his arm, armor scuffed from long hours. His jaw is tight, but his eyes flicker with relief. SERGEANT VALE follows shortly behind, giving orders through her comlink. * GRENN (staunch handshake): “GENERAL SURIK. Never thought I’d be glad to see your ship darken my deck again. The station’s on edge - half of my soldiers swear they can feel something out there. The ADMIRAL’s orders are simple: hold Telos, whatever it takes. If this world is lost, so is the Republic’s hope.” * MEETRA (direct intention): “They’re not wrong. We’ve seen it up close. Dantooine was attacked without ships, without armies. The Dark Side of the Force itself moved against us. You won’t see it coming on radar, but we can modify planetary sensors to partially compensate.” * GRENN (taken aback): “Then we’re blind.” * BAO-DUR (interjecting): “We have some help we can provide to sensors - this will reinforce Telos’ defenses accurately. The Restoration Zone grid still feeds the station, I can reroute its energy up here, increase defensive output and shields by more than threefold.” * GRENN (eyes showing new interest to BAO-DUR): “You volunteering to go planetside to do that?” * BAO-DUR: “If it keeps Telos alive - yes. I’ll be back as soon as the redirect’s stable.” He looks to MEETRA. “Permission to move?” * MEETRA: “Granted. And BAO - make sure the Ithorians know what’s at stake.” * GRENN (motioning with his hand): “SERGEANT! Escort him, on the double!” BAO-DUR nods once and runs toward the hallway, SERGEANT VALE jogging alongside him as she reserves a shuttle on her datapad. The remaining HEROES follow GRENN through narrow halls lit by orange strips. Soldiers hurry past with rifles and field packs. The station hums like a living thing preparing for war. GRENN leads them to the Operations Observation Deck, stopping in front of a wide holotable projecting orbital telemetry and energy readouts. The hologram flickers, the data and views unstable. * GRENN: “No signatures, no comm traffic, no ships. Just normal static so far. Could be solar interference. Do you see anything that hit your team here?” * MIRA (shaking her head): “It starts as distortion - air goes still, sound drops. Then the Force goes cold. We need to connect the EBON HAWK’s system to the CITADEL’s sensors, amplifying the calibration matrix to search for signs of the distortions.” * GRENN (growing exasperated): “How do we fight something we can’t see?” * MEETRA (firm): “You don’t fight it. You endure it. Lock your minds as tightly as your shields. If anyone feels pressure - darkness - report it, don’t panic and stay focused.” * GRENN (uncertain but resigned): “So we wait for ghosts.” * MEETRA: “Until they make the mistake of showing themselves.” GRENN looks away, keys a console, his tone lowering. * GRENN: “The ADMIRAL said you’d bring answers, not comfort. Guess he was right.” * MEETRA: “You know how to expect an enemy. Jedi can sense and discern an enemy. We’ll give clear direction and strategy in the right moments, and we’ll make it through the other side. The ADMIRAL knows what’s coming, he’ll be here.” * GRENN: “Let’s hope we’re still in one piece when he arrives…” <<set $Telos1Preparation to "unlocked">> [[Ready->Telos1Ready]]

RUNNING TO TELOS IV <<link "CARTH">><<replace "#CARTH">>CARTH MEETRA tries raising the ADMIRAL on the radio, but he doesn’t respond. He has to be busy with the sudden escalation. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "BASTILA">><<replace "#BASTILA">> BASTILA On the second try, MEETRA raises AMBASSADOR SHAN on her datapad. * BASTILA (voice low): “MEETRA…I’ve just seen the reports.” * MEETRA (voice gravelly): “Then you know.” * BASTILA: “Yes. The intensity of the attack is…terrifying.” * MEETRA: “We were solidifying plans when it happened. We weren’t prepared..” * BASTILA: “Few would have been.” She pauses, emotion breaking through her composure. “You have my sympathy - and my support.” * MEETRA: “What can the Republic do?” * BASTILA: “ADMIRAL ONASI is already mobilizing what forces he can. I will coordinate with him and begin rallying what resources the Senate will allow.” * MEETRA: “How long until they reach us on Taris?” * BASTILA: “Too long.” She leans closer to the holovid. “Until then, you must hold the planet.” * MEETRA: “You want Taris locked down.” * BASTILA: “Yes. Secure the spaceport. Fortify your position. Gather information, anything you can find before the fleet arrives.” * MEETRA: “Understood.” * BASTILA: “And MEETRA…be strong.” A brief silence. “The galaxy will need you to be.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "MICAL">><<replace "#MICAL">>MICAL MEETRA tries raising MICAL on the radio multiple times, but he never responds. He must be away from his comms. BASTILA promised she'd update him on the situation when he reports in. She hopes that he's ok. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "ATTON">><<replace "#ATTON">>ATTON ATTON steps quietly into the Port Dormitory, where MEETRA usually stays. She sits cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed in meditation. * ATTON: “…Hey. Ok for me to interrupt?” MEETRA opens her eyes slowly, looking up to him, nodding. ATTON sees the strain in her expression, her tired eyes. She doesn’t hide it from him. * ATTON: “You look like the galaxy just tried to punch you.” * MEETRA: “It feels like it.” He doesn’t use jokes this time. He just looks at her, with intense eyes. * ATTON: “…We’ll get through it. Together.” She studies him for a moment, letting his quiet honesty settle. * MEETRA: “I know.” ATTON nods once, standing guard near the doorway without another word. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "MIRA">><<replace "#MIRA">>MIRA When MEETRA finds MIRA in the Communications room, she can see the neon tension rippling from her, even without using the Force. She reaches her hand out to her arm. * MEETRA (concerned): “You’re shaking.” * MIRA: “I’m not- ” Her voice cracks slightly. “…Okay maybe a little.” * MEETRA (firm): “Then we move.” * MIRA (confused): “Move?” * MEETRA (locking eyes): “Inventory. Defense positions. Supplies.” * MIRA (exhaling): “Right. Yeah. Something practical.” * MEETRA: “Exactly.” * MIRA (nodding quickly): “I’ll… check the supply caches.” She heads down the corridor, a little faster than usual. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "BAO-DUR">><<replace "#BAO-DUR">>BAO-DUR The ship’s gone still again, that uneasy silence that comes after decisions are made but before they can be acted on. BAO-DUR follows the faint hum of auxiliary relays until he finds her alone in the communications room. The blue glow of the navicomputer bathes MEETRA in pale light. Her hands move with tired precision across the controls, trying sequence after sequence. The display beeps the same denial tone every time: ACCESS LOCKED – COMMAND OVERRIDE DENIED. She exhales through her nose, leans her forehead against her fist, and stays there for a long frustrated moment. * BAO-DUR (carefully): “General, you should be resting.” * MEETRA: “Can’t sleep,” she says with a tired voice “Thought maybe I could find more information about old Sith headings…but Revan didn’t want anyone to follow him in his search.” The console chirps another rejection. She shuts it off and sits back, the light fading from her face. She looks small in this moment. * BAO-DUR (stepping closer): “You took the brunt of that distortion. You shouldn’t be moving, much less digging through encryption.” * MEETRA (giving a shadow of a smile): “I’ve been worse.” Then, quieter. “Thank you. For Dantooine. If you hadn’t broken free when you did…” Her eyes met his, steady but tired. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.” BAO-DUR looks away, embarrassed by the directness. His mechanical hand flexes once, a nervous tic. * BAO-DUR: “Well, ma’am… you gave the order. I just followed it.” * MEETRA (shaking her head, smiling): “I haven’t seen you as my soldier since finding you again on Telos. Not once since.” Her tone softened, sincere. “You’re my friend, BAO-DUR. A good one. And there aren’t many of those left.” The words hit him harder than he expected. All his careful composure falters for a heartbeat - the weight of years of service and guilt suddenly lighter. He straightens, quietly clearing his throat. * BAO-DUR: “Thank you, General.” Then, almost smiling, “Guess I’ll have to make sure I live up to that.” MEETRA reaches out, setting a hand on his shoulder - warm, grounding. * MEETRA: “You already do.” For a few moments, neither say anything. The hum of the engines fill the silence between them, calm and constant. BAO-DUR nods once, then steps back. * BAO-DUR: “I’ll, uh… check the power couplings in the aft compartment. Just in case.” MEETRA smiles as he leaves, the faintest hint of peace returning to her expression. When he rounds the corner, BAO-DUR pauses in the corridor. For the first time since Dantooine, he feels certain about something. He’s not just following orders anymore. He is needed. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "JOLEE">><<replace "#JOLEE">>JOLEE MEETRA sits alone in the cockpit, staring out at the distant lights of Taris. JOLEE enters quietly. * JOLEE: “You’ve got that look.” * MEETRA (turning around): “What look?” * JOLEE: “The one people get, when they realize the galaxy just got a lot more complicated.” * MEETRA: “It already was.” JOLEE steps beside her, leaning on the console. * JOLEE: “Kid…this is the beginning. Probably the real beginning” * MEETRA (tired): “I know.” * JOLEE: “No, you suspect.” His tone is firmer than usual. “What hit us wasn’t just an ambush.” * MEETRA: “You think something bigger is coming.” * JOLEE (staring out the cockpit): “I’d bet my last credit on it.” MEETRA doesn’t respond. Her mind is moving too fast to offer a response. The things she has to do are stacking up too fast. * JOLEE: “You’re going to have people looking at you for answers soon.” * MEETRA: “I don’t have them.” * JOLEE: “Doesn’t matter. You’re gonna need to find them.” He studies her carefully. “You’ve carried worse burdens than this.” * MEETRA (flippant): “Yes, but that doesn’t make it easier.” * JOLEE: “No.” His tone softens slightly. “But it does mean you’re the right person to carry it. Just remember, you’re not carrying this alone.” He pats her on the shoulder, and turns back into the ship, leaving MEETRA with her spinning thoughts. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "T3-M4">><<replace "#T3-M4">>T3-M4 As MEETRA moves through the ship, she comes across T3-M4 in the hallway. She notices him, and kneels beside him. * MEETRA: “T3…is this attack part of what Revan found?” T3’s dome tilts, emitting a confused beep. * MEETRA: “Before he sent you and the HAWK back into the galaxy.” * T3-M4: “Bee wooooo.” * MEETRA: “I didn’t think so.” She rests a hand on the droid’s dome. “Thank you - for everything you’ve done for us.” T3 whistles softly. * MEETRA: “Make sure you’re running full database backups…just in case.” <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Go back">>

TELOS IV: Preparation <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> Every hum, every whisper of machinery, sounds too loud against the stillness of space. Beyond the viewport, Telos turns quietly, untroubled. The enemy hasn’t come. No signatures. No movement. Nothing. On the Operations 081 Observation Deck, GRENN stands beside MEETRA, arms folded tight behind his back, eyes locked on the sensor readouts projected in front of them. * GRENN (rigid): “All scans clear. No gravimetric drift, no hyperspace residue, no magnetic flux. If something’s out there, it’s not giving us a whisper.” * MEETRA (eyes low): “That’s how it starts.” * GRENN (turning to her): “You’ve seen this before?” * MEETRA (nodding): “On Dantooine. Before the strike yesterday…there was a sound I misunderstood as a background hum from outside the Enclave. I didn’t realize the Force had started to go silent. The world felt like it stopped moving. And then -” she cuts herself off, her eyes fixed on the glass. “Then it all broke.” The comm crackles. BAO-DUR’s voice filters through the static, calm and deliberate. * BAO-DUR (over comm): “Power transfer at seventy percent. The Restoration Zone grid is stable. You’ll have 128% more power in two minutes. MIRA should have the ship connected to the Citadel soon - the Station sensors will increase our ability to read sub-quantum distortions.” * GRENN: “Copy that, Engineer...” He glances at MEETRA. “What will connecting your ship to our sensors do, against this?” * MEETRA: “Let us see what isn’t there. Good work BAO-DUR.” Back at Docking Bay 03, a trio work on the EBON HAWK. MIRA stands in the port leg well, sleeves rolled up, splicing cables from a data junction into the station’s primary sensor feed. ATTON hovers over her shoulder, offering useless commentary while T3-M4 whirs anxiously, projecting alignment schematics. * MIRA: “T3, stabilize that data stream. We need those readings stable, not dancing.” * T3-M4: Bwee-dwoo! * ATTON (oblivious): “You sure this thing won’t fry the station’s eyes?” * MIRA (annoyed): “If it does, you’ll be the first to know. You’re sitting closest to the sensors.” * ATTON (scoffs): “Comforting.” In the Observation Deck, the projection above the central console flickers, momentarily blinding white, settling into a grid of shifting blue light. The new calibration ripples outward through the display, aligning across the CITADEL’s entire sensor web. * VALE: “Echo Matrix is live!” * MIRA (nodding): “We’ve got phase alignment. No movement yet.” * ATTON (over comm): “You mean nothing still looks like nothing.” MEETRA agrees. She steps closer to the viewport. The stars beyond seem unnaturally steady - as though the galaxy itself has forgotten how to drift. Her reflection wavers faintly in the glass, eyes searching for meaning in a sky that refuses to answer. * GRENN: “You said the stillness was a warning. What are we waiting for now?” * MEETRA: “Change. The smallest one. When it comes, everything will follow.” BAO-DUR’s voice returns through a crackle of static. * BAO-DUR (over comm): “Redirect complete. You’re at full shield capacity. The planet’s power’s yours, General.” * MEETRA: “Good work, BAO. Get back here before the quiet ends.” * BAO-DUR (over comm): “Copy that. I’m running towards the shuttle.” The line cuts off. The Observation Deck falls still again. Lights humming, consoles pulse with data - all perfectly normal. MIRA, now in the HAWK’s main hold, wipes her hands on her gloves nervously. * MIRA: “Nothing. No contacts. No distortions. Not even background noise. It’s like the sensors are afraid to breathe.” * ATTON: “Maybe we were faster than we thought.” * GRENN (over comm): “If this is what the ADMIRAL warned us about, I’d rather face an enemy fleet.” * MEETRA (over comm): “You might get both.” The HEROES continue to stare at the digital readouts, desperate for an anomaly they can react to. MEETRA checks the viewport - nothing different, the stars look normal. She finds herself rationing her breath, adrenaline beginning to leak into her body. It’s coming. This time she won’t be caught by surprise. <<set $Telos1Ready to "unlocked">> [[From The Shadows->Telos1Shadows]]

TELOS IV: From The Shadows <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> The stillness finally breaks. MEETRA flinches, feeling the same drop in the Force. A single pulse, a momentary tremor on the observation deck’s monitors. GRENN’s eyes narrow, seeing the change on sensors but not gaining understanding from it. * MEETRA (cold): “It’s here.” Without hesitation, the LIEUTENANT presses a distinct button on the console. Orange lights are replaced by pulsing fiery red alarms. His voice rises over the confusion. * VALE: “Contact! Unregistered mass in upper atmosphere! Lock down units, scramble fighters, activate targeting systems” * MIRA (over comm): “Appeared? You mean dropped out of hyperspace?” * GRENN (turning his head to the comm): “Negative, it didn’t come from anywhere. It just showed up, right as the General sensed it.” * MEETRA (in her comm): “ATTON, start up the ship. MIRA, T3 - disconnect from the CITADEL, we have to get closer to that thing.” * ATTON (over comm): “Awww but we just got it working!” * MEETRA: “ATTON! Take off the minute I’m on the ramp!” The holographic display spikes red - gravitational readings exploding beyond known limits. Through the viewport, the stars in the galaxy twist open like torn cloth, and something massive pushes through. At first it looks like the night itself descending: a continent-sized shape of black alloy cutting through the atmosphere without fire or sound. Then, its form takes shape: a dreadnaught ship unlike anything ever built by the Republic or Sith of old. Its hull is obsidian and faceted, carved into interlocking layers that taper to twin spear-like prows. Veins of molten orange crawl along its surface, pulsing like magma through cracks in rock, tracing impossible geometries that seem to shift as the eye follows them. The prow glows faintly from within, the seams widening as if the ship itself is alive. For a heartbeat, the planet seems to shrink around it - almost like it was eclipsing around the Sith monstrosity. It isn’t flying. It’s falling with intention, descending through gravity as though gravity belongs to it. The air on the deck feels colder. Some officers instinctively step back, as though its shadow can reach through the glass. * GRENN: “All stations - open fire! Every gun we have! Attack patterns now!” * MEETRA: “No! Don’t draw its attention yet.” The tremor in her voice cuts through the alarm klaxons. GRENN hesitates. * MEETRA: “If it sees Citadel Station as a threat, it’ll erase it. We need to pull it away.” * GRENN: “And how exactly do we get a dreadnaught to be distracted from a space station?” * MEETRA (intense gaze): “We remind it who it’s after.” GRENN’s brows furrow…he knows what she intends. * GRENN: “All stations, lock in the target, prepare to fire on my mark.” He looks MEETRA dead in the eye. ”Don’t be stupid. We don’t need any more dead Jedi in this galaxy. We’ll be ready when you say.” MEETRA gives an understood nod, then runs out toward the hangar. MEETRA sprints down the hallway, slamming the command console in the elevator. The lift doors slide shut behind her. The motion feels too slow. She keys her comm, BAO-DUR’s voice breaking through the static. * BAO-DUR (over comm): “General? I’m rerouting through the southern grid. Power flow’s holding steady. Shields are still -” * MEETRA: “BAO, listen. Get back to Operations. Work with the LIEUTENANT and keep the shields aligned. The Sith ship hasn’t fired yet, but it’s waiting. I’m going up in the HAWK, I need to draw its attention and get clearer sensor data before it hits the Citadel.” * BAO-DUR (over comm): “That’s a suicide run, General! You can analyze data from here -” * MEETRA (cutting in): “We don’t have time! The militia’s gearing for defense, and they need direction - not fear. If the Sith are watching for Jedi, then they’ll look for me. That buys the Citadel time to prepare.” * BAO-DUR (over comm): “You’re defending a planet, not an idea! We can’t lose you again.” MEETRA thinks back to the first war, to Dxun. She remembers her gut doubling over, her head spinning, breaking out in cold shaky sweats, as the Republic soldiers followed her orders - unknowingly sacrificing themselves over and over to break the Mandalorian lines. I will not sacrifice Telos. I will not sacrifice these innocents. * MEETRA (voice firm, steady): “We’re Jedi, BAO. We defend life. Not walls. Not stations. If the choice is Telos or us - it’s Telos.” The lift slows. The numbers tick up toward Docking Level 03. She can hear her own heartbeat over the hum of the engines, feel the static charge of the storm rising beneath her skin. * BAO-DUR (over comm): “…Understood, GENERAL.” His voice softens, quiet but resolute. “I’ll get to Operations. You’ll have every reading I can pull once I’m at a console.” * MEETRA: “Good. I’ll make it count.” * BAO-DUR (over comm): “Force guide you, GENERAL. Sending data soon.” The channel cuts out. The doors hiss open. MEETRA bolts through them before they finish sliding apart, sprinting down the corridor toward the docking bay, painted in pulsing red. The moment she clears the threshold, the boarding ramp seals - and the EBON HAWK begins to rise, tearing free of the docking back, engines screaming blue fire. <<set $Telos1Shadows to "unlocked">> [[The Devouring->Telos1Devouring]]

TELOS IV: The Devouring <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> Mere minutes after the EBON HAWK has left the Citadel Docks, BAO-DUR sprints out of his freshly landed shuttle, hoping he can make it before the first attack starts. He runs up the stairs to the bay control room, overriding the station’s outdated security and redirecting his session to the console in front of him. His eyes open wide and he sweats even more; the numbers are wrong in a way that makes his chest ache, waveforms climbing into territories the old tests never accounted for. He recognizes the shape of the spike before his eyes can translate it: the same terrible geometry that followed Ossus and Dantooine, multiplied until it feels like a planet’s worth of hunger is being focused into a single point. He slaps the comm in his ear and shouts into it, voice a rough edge. * BAO-DUR: “General - forward hull! It’s, releasing -” She answers, thin and controlled over static. * MEETRA (over comm): “Hold. Anchor. Fortify your mind.” He does what she says. He breathes, finds the cold geometry of the Force as a brace. He pins himself to that small stillness and tries to push outward, to catch the minds of men untrained and anchor them before the tide comes. The forward prow of the dreadnought blooms like glass in sunlight. A corona of yellow spills into the void and moves, slow and absolute, sweeping the space between ship and planet. The monitors mark the coming arrival in jagged flashes. Alarms scream in panic. Somehow related, a fresh Force Distortion rips into Citadel Station: Soldiers hit the deck in unison, limbs flung out, helmets skittering. Their minds are bare to the thing that invades thought and distorts reality. Faces go slack, eyes glass over, they go silent in the span of a breath. BAO-DUR grimaces, but holds against the distortion, deeply thankful in this moment for the collective years of Jedi training he received from the GENERAL. He pushes through, feeding all data points he can to the EBON HAWK, determined to hold his post. After a few moments, something in the Force shifts. BAO-DUR looks out of the dock at the Sith ship, the EBON HAWK visibly rocketing towards it, a squad of support fighters trailing them. He wonders what the GENERAL’s true plan is, and its odds of success… He feels it reach him like hands under his skin. It is absence without noise not noise but absence. Color starts to bleach from metal and uniform. The pitch-black of his console bezels dulls to gray, the blue of indicator lights dim to nothing. Sound collapses. sucking away any sound that means life. He thinks, absurdly, of Visas and the void that took her world. He thinks of how a soul might unclench and drift; he thinks he can feel the outline of the invisible hand as it removes the world’s blood. Is this how it was for her? For all of them? The question unmoors into emptiness. The world rearranges into a hole and he goes - down, away, beyond the reach of even memory…and is gone. <<set $Telos1Devouring to "unlocked">> [[Narrow Escape->Telos1NarrowEscape]]

TELOS IV: Narrow Escape <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> The EBON HAWK launched in fury and purpose, engines ripping out of the dock, a half-dozen Aurek fighters following in support. The plan was simple and savage in its clarity: entice the dreadnought to look away from the Citadel, draw its attention to a single, small, valuable target - give the station time. From the cockpit the Sith dreadnought was enormous, and the Jedi ship may not have had a real chance to be noticed. It didn’t turn, it didn’t take its approach as a threat. It was not interested in missiles or squadrons or the metal flashes of spaceships. It was unfortunately looking inward, not outward. The ship’s Jedi captain felt it first, and commanded her crew to fortify their minds. They had hoped for a chance to fight this unknown threat in space with the lessons learned from their last encounters, but the opportunity was never truly offered. Because of their proximity, the Sith’s attack hit them too hard; one by one they folded inward from the unknown distortion rendered them inert…knees buckling, arms falling like ropes cut from the top. T3-M4 registers the distortion in a dozen diagnostics. While he carries out its duties as instructed, T3 as a droid cannot understand the full attack these Sith have inflicted on his friends. He can safely assume it‘s something only in their mystical property of the Force, since it fully affects living beings with no perceptible effect on himself or the EBON HAWK. The droid’s dome swings, sensors painting a tableau of human systems failing: heart rates plummeting, brainwaves flatlining, motor functions ceasing. The Citadel is going dark; comms are static, station responses are delayed. The droid’s logic circuits run through protocols and contingencies, finding the one prioritization that matters in the vacuum left by fallen sentience: preserve crew, preserve vessel, preserve mission data. There is no ceremony in T3’s decision - only the cold arithmetic of purpose. With a somber whine, he reaches a heavy, methodical conclusion: the only way to keep the living and the knowledge alive is to carry them away. T3, already wired into the cockpit’s systems, routes power to the hyperdrive, checks for alignment and mass shadows, finds the gap in the void where a jump will not slam them into wreckage, and initiates the jump. Hyperspace swallows them. The stars smear into lines. Inside the cockpit, the fallen bodies of Jedi momentarily convulse as they leave the range of the Sith attack, continuing to lie in the hush of unconsciousness. The console pings a confirmation - route complete, engines nominal. T3 registers the safety of crew as best he can: vitals present, not stable. Mission data intact, ship operational. He begins attending to his friends, starting with the captain. In the wake of the EBON HAWK’s energy residue, the dreadnought continues its devouring, luminous filaments crawling across the metal city floating above the planet, instruments of a hunger that does not need to chase. The galaxy tilts on a new axis: the inhabitants of Citadel Statiojn on Telos IV, once busy with life and potential, are now gone, evaporating into an absent silence. The Sith terror hangs in the sky above it, motionless as its god that has fed upon its inhabitants, satisfied in continuing the tragic curse of the planet. <<set $Telos1NarrowEscape to "unlocked">> [[Shattered Hope->ShatteredHope1]]

Shattered Hope <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> Dim light spills from the overhead fixtures in the EBON HAWK’s main hold. Medical packs and loose wiring are scattered across the floor. In the center of the room, four figures lie propped against the bulkhead, motionless except for the rise and fall of shallow breaths. T3-M4 chirps anxiously as he moves between them, applying dermal patches and oxygen injectors with surprising gentleness for a droid. A soft series of tones flicker from his vocabulator, reactions from diagnostic readouts and medical reports. A low groan breaks the quiet. ATTON stirs first, wincing as he pushes himself upright. His jacket collar is partially torn, hair damp with sweat. He blinks hard, disoriented. * ATTON: “…We’re still in one piece?” He looks around. “Barely.” Beside him, MIRA sits up abruptly, eyes scanning the room like she’s expecting to see a fight still in progress. * MIRA (hoarse): “What happened? The distortion, then -” She cuts herself off as the memories flood back. Her face changes from alarm to dread as she fully recalls. JOLEE’s voice comes from the floor near the engine bulkhead - rough, dry, and older than usual. * JOLEE: “What happened is that our metal nurse dragged us out before we learned firsthand what vaporization feels like.” He nods toward T3, who chirps affirmatively and projects a dim blue holo of their current course. The glowing nav-path shows a single line arcing along the Hydian Way, destination: The SOJOURN. Beneath it, the local sector coordinates flash SIGNAL CORRUPT where Telos IV should be. * MIRA: “Telos’ coordinates aren’t even registering.” Her voice falters. “That can’t be right…right?” * JOLEE: “If the sensors can’t find the planet, it means that ship caused massive planetary interference or it’s gone altogether. Until we see it ourselves, we won’t know which.” He looks down, almost whispering. “Maker help them.” No one answers. The silence stretches thin. MEETRA sits against the far bulkhead, head bowed, her face caught halfway between exhaustion and disbelief. Her voice is low, detached. Her emotions are lost, but she tries to be strong. * MEETRA: “T3 made the right call. The SOJOURN has the long-range sensors, the support…BASTILA and the fleet. They can confirm what’s happened with Telos.” She forces herself to inhale, steady but unconvincing. “We’ll regroup, assess -” Her words die in her throat. Fear is taking over as she starts to connect her last moments before unconsciousness. The lights flicker. A faint vibration ripples through the air, like pressure tightening behind their ears. The temperature dips a few degrees. A hollow, mournful feeling pushes through the air. ATTON watches MEETRA carefully. * ATTON: “You okay? You look like you’re about to pass out again.” MEETRA shakes her head slowly, trying to compose herself. * MEETRA: “I’m fine. Just…need a minute.” She stands, her movements deliberate but fragile. The others track her silently as she walks toward the corridor. * MEETRA (quietly, over her shoulder): “Let me know before we drop out of hyperspace. I’ll…be ready.” She doesn’t wait for an answer. The door to the port dormitory slides open, and she steps inside. The hatch seals behind her with a hiss. Inside, the small cabin is near silent. MEETRA lowers herself onto the bunk, her hands trembling slightly before curling into fists. She exhales through clenched teeth, the breath shaking - a sound closer to grief than control. The lights dim further, responding unconsciously to her turmoil. She doesn’t notice. She just stares at the wall, unblinking, caught between memory and guilt. Citadel Station. Bao-Dur’s voice over the comm. Grenn. Telos. All gone - or soon will be. And again, she’s the one who survived. Outside her closed hatch, the rest of the crew remains quiet - giving her the silence she didn’t ask for. T3 finishes his diagnostics and rolls toward the cockpit. The EBON HAWK hums softly, carrying its wounded crew through the bright dark of hyperspace - toward the only allies they have left. <<set $Telos1ShatteredHope to "unlocked">> [[Debrief->Sojourn1Debrief]]

THE SOJOURN: Debrief <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> The EBON HAWK slips from hyperspace into the cold blue light of the Corsin system. Ahead, twenty-nine capital and support ships hold formation in silent orbit - ADMIRAL CARTH’s fleet. At its center, the SOJOURN, proud and battle-scarred, waits like a sentinel, its surface glimmering with repair welds and fresh Republic insignias that do little to hide the wounds of war. As the HAWK angles toward the flagship’s main bay, escort fighters fall into formation. Inside, the crew stands gathered near the boarding ramp. No one speaks. ATTON adjusts the torn collar of his jacket. MIRA clasps her gloved hands behind her back, eyes down. JOLEE leans on his staff but doesn’t offer wisdom. Even T3’s lights are dimmed. MEETRA, at the front, stays perfectly still. The docking clamps engage with a deep metallic hiss. The ramp lowers. The air that greets them is cold and sterile. A detail of uniformed guards waits in silence; CAPTAIN CASSIUS VARR, tall and steel-eyed, salutes once, then gestures sharply for them to follow. The SOJOURN’s command room is dim, its large circular viewport showing the fleet’s still lines beyond. Inside stand ADMIRAL ONASI, AMBASSADOR SHAN, and three senior captains, VARR joining them, each marked by seasoned years of quiet survival. When the HEROES enter, BASTILA nods but does not smile. CARTH’s expression is composed, but his hands twitch behind his back as though gripping invisible controls. * CARTH: “You’ve all been through hell. Let’s not waste words. Tell us everything you can.” MEETRA takes a breath and steps forward. Her voice is steady, but it feels like every sentence costs her something. * MEETRA: “When we arrived at Telos, we were tracking for gravitational distortions across the sector. Though we couldn’t find anything, Lieutenant Grenn had Citadel Station at full defensive readiness.” * MEETRA: “Our intent was to intercept it before it reached the planet. The HAWK’s sensors were at capacity; Bao-Dur was in the process of calibrating the long-range sensors to compensate for interference. When it came online the readings spiked, past measurable range. A Sith dreadnought of unknown design appeared outside Citadel Station’s orbit: energy readings were erratic, unstable, but intelligent. There was no impact, no bombardment, no heat signature. Just…pressure.” * MEETRA: ”It hit all at once. I could feel it - through the Force itself. It wasn’t an attack, it was like…the air was ripped out of reality. The distortion moved through everything - the ship, the station, the planet below - and then nothing. We lost consciousness. All of us.” * MEETRA: “When we woke, T3 had us en route to your fleet on autopilot. Navigation data before the blackout was corrupted - Bao-Dur’s last entry ended mid-command. The same with Citadel Station’s transmissions. We haven't received any distress signals, no survivors hailing from orbit. Just silence.” * MEETRA: “We don’t know what happened after the distortion hit. We don’t know if Telos survived. But what I felt…what all of us felt…was absence in the Force. Like something reached through the Force and took the whole world with it." She looks back to CARTH, locking eyes. "That’s all I have, ADMIRAL.” She pauses. The room remains still, the silence almost physical.She feels compelled to give more explanation * MEETRA (continuing, quieter): “If you’re looking for cause, I don’t have one. I’ve fought weapons that cracked continents and masters who could tear thought from the mind - this wasn’t either. It didn’t feel born of malice or conquest. This distortion was…fully suppressive. Like my ability to breathe was cut off.” She glances toward BASTILA, then to CARTH. * MEETRA: ““It felt like the final battle at Malachor. The same emptiness in the Force afterward. I don’t know who or what’s behind it. But I can promise you this: if it’s the same hand that’s been moving in the shadows all these years -” Her tone hardens, eyes meeting CARTH’s. "-they just made their first open move.” Her words are simple; the details are incomplete. When she finishes, silence falls. CARTH looks down at his datapad, jaw locked. * CARTH (gravelly voice): “That matches what we caught before the sensors died. The readings…stopped mid-cycle. No transmissions.” He swallows, his voice cracking despite the discipline. “Citadel Station’s beacons have gone dark.” He forces a long breath through his nose, straightening his shoulders again. “Thank you. That’ll do.” * BASTILA (heavy, controlled): “We’ve analyzed what remains of long-range telemetry. The disturbance drained energy, matter, and life signatures simultaneously. What we’re seeing… it’s identical to what was recorded of Katarr.” Her eyes find MEETRA’s. “Telos IV looks to be worse than destroyed.” The words hollow the room. ATTON stares at the floor, fists tight at his sides. MIRA’s jaw quivers before she forces it still. JOLEE exhales a long, rasping sound that might be a curse or a prayer. CARTH turns away from them, both hands pressed flat on the console. His reflection in the viewport is pale, fractured by starlight. * CARTH (quiet): “Three times. Three times my homeworld devastated." He closes his eyes, breath shaking. “I swore it would never happen again.” A pause. Then, almost to himself: “What’s left for the Republic if even Telos can’t stand?” No one answers. <<set $Sojourn1Debrief to "unlocked">> <<link "Variables">><<replace "#Variables">>Variables The silence stretches until CAPTAIN VARR clears his throat. His voice is respectful, but sharp-edged. * VARR: “With due respect, ADMIRAL we should at least consider all variables. The Exile’s connection to the Force is…unique. If this attack mirrors Katarr, and she was present both times -” * CARTH (head snapping to VARR): “Captain, you’re out of line.” * VARR (slyly): “...I ask because the Force behaves like gravity - and gravity has a source.” He glances toward MEETRA, measured but firm. “If the Exile is the force the records say she is, perhaps- ” The hum of the ship changes. The lights dim - just slightly - and a faint vibration runs through the deckplates. Every datapad in the room flickers for half a second before stabilizing. MEETRA steps forward. Her expression is locked, eyes are hollow. * MEETRA (quietly): “I wasn’t at Katarr, CAPTAIN. I heard the stories just like you. And if I had that kind of power, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” She holds his gaze until he looks away. She breathes, controlling her composure. “Whatever caused this… it was beyond all of us. Including me.” The deck’s hum returns to normal. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Find the Trail">><<replace "#Trail">>Find the Trail BASTILA recovers first, her voice taking command. * BASTILA: “Unfounded speculation won’t save us. We need data - any trace left behind. ADMIRAL, if we triangulate the last transmission from Citadel Station with the fleet’s sensor ghosts, we might isolate a pattern.” * CARTH (nods, trying to steady himself): “Do it. Pull every listening post between here and the Hydian Way. We’ll find their trail.” He looks at MEETRA. She can't make out what he's thinking, but his steeled, mournful eyes match hers. He'll do anything to stop this...just like her. * JOLEE: “You’re assuming it’s something that can be hunted.” * CARTH: “Doesn’t matter. We’re not sitting on our hands while it destroys the next world.” The conversation spirals - voices rising, words colliding, plans half-formed. Everyone on edge, verbally positing directions of action, unsuccessfully trying to hide emotions. Agitated chaos. None of it sounds like hope. <</replace>><</link>> [[Recover->Sojourn1Breach]]

THE SOJOURN: Breach <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> The room washes red as klaxons echo through the decks. “Hangar Two - unauthorized access! External lock override detected!” * CARTH’s (head snapping up in alarm): “That’s where the EBON HAWK’s docked.” The floor vibrates - the faint hiss of pressurization vents releasing in the ship. BASTILA stiffens, eyes wide. Her voice is a whisper. * BASTILA: “He's…” She loses her capability for words. MEETRA’s head turns sharply to her, her skin paling. * MEETRA: “…BASTILA??” They share one look - recognition and dread intertwined - and then both bolt for the door. BASTILA moves first, robes sweeping behind her, wildly sprinting. MEETRA follows, stride breaking into a run. Behind them, CARTH and the HEROES move to follow - ATTON drawing his blaster without hesitation, MIRA already sprinting, JOLEE muttering something that sounds pained as he grips his staff. The corridor lights strobe red as the SOJOURN shudders under emergency lockdown. Through the ship’s intercom, the automated voice repeats Hangar Two, security breach in progress. <<set $Sojourn1Breach to "unlocked">> [[The Return->RevanReturn]]

REVAN: Final Moments <img src="Act1/" class="gif"> The pale star of the Corsin system burns at the center, its light spreading across scattered debris fields and distant orbital traffic lanes. Somewhere close by, the EBON HAWK is docked with a Republic cruiser, carrying two people he once trusted more than anyone in the galaxy. For the first time in a long while, uncertainty creeps in. He realizes something simple, something almost absurd…he doesn’t know how to return. For nearly a decade he has existed in the unknown, watching and calculating, manipulating events from distances so vast they feel abstract. Contact was indirect, hidden through intermediaries and signals buried deep within systems no one else knows exist. Now, he is minutes away from revealing himself. And he has no plan for how to do it. The thought is uniquely unsettling, more than he expects. His mind searches instinctively for angles…political, tactical, psychological…but none of them fit the moment. Strategy fails when the target are old friends, thinking you’re already dead as the galaxy’s fate hangs in the balance. He simply stares at the navigation display, mind racing through possibilities that all feel wrong. None of them sit well…until something recent surfaces in his memory. The beacon. REVAN’s eyes shift slightly as the idea locks into place. The EBON HAWK. He never fully severed the remote access he once embedded in its systems. A quiet failsafe buried the ship’s navicomputer, something only he would know to uncover. His fingers move across the console screen and buttons. Firewalls appear, collapse, reassemble. His fear of his old backdoor being shut to him melts away as he slips into the HAWK’s systems without resistance. Ten years away from the Republic has not dulled his muscle memory. Within minutes the ship’s transponder appears on the display - docked, stationary, its signal routed through a Republic Hammerhead’s hangar registry. REVAN leans slightly forward, eyes narrowing as he begins copying the docking authentication sequence tied to the HAWK’s berth. Within a minute, a perfect duplicate of the access code rests in his console. REVAN allows himself a small smile. Quiet satisfaction saturates within him. He presses a button, and the PHANTOM begins its slow approach. He should feel ready. But his chest is too tight. His hands tremble. REVAN looks down at them, almost unbelieving. He’s about to reveal himself to the Republic, to the galaxy, to the enemy…and two people who knew him during the war…after the mask…and valiantly stayed when he left. CARTH. BASTILA. They have waited more than a decade for answers. And he is about to reveal himself, finally. His breathing grows uneven for a moment…then he stops breathing altogether. He closes his eyes. Slow breath in…slow breath out. Panic is useless. Emotion is data, peace is the target. He lets the feelings pass through him, examining it the same way he would a battlefield variable. Fear. Anticipation. The weight of unfinished history. All of it, irrelevant to the path forward. If he was not meant to return, he would already be dead. REVAN straightens slightly in his seat. Now is the time. He folds inward, withdrawing from the noise of his thoughts the way he has done countless times before. His breathing steadies. His heartbeat slows. Each piece of him settles into alignment. Uncertainty fades, leaving focus. He opens his eyes. The Republic Hammerhead expands across the viewport now, massive armored orange and steel body sitting in space. Floodlights spill into space, guiding incoming vessels toward their landing lanes. He thanks the PHANTOM in his mind again, leaning on its avoidance of sensor technology in its stealth state. His hands move across the controls with calm precision. A final tap confirms the docking path. Thrusters adjust as the ship glides forward. REVAN rests both hands firmly on the controls, posture steady once more. More than a decade of silence will end in the next few minutes. It’s time. <<set $Revan1FinalMoments to "unlocked">> [[REVAN's Return->RevanReturn]]

REVAN's RETURN <img src="Act1/" class="gif"> The SOJOURN shakes under the weight of alarms and thundering boots. Hangar Two is chaos - sirens echoing, red lights pulsing through corridors, soldiers shouting over comms. Beneath the noise, the low, harmonic thrum of a ship descending through the shield barrier. Through the haze of energy gates and warning strobes, a sleek vessel glides into the bay. Bronze plating etched with glowing sigils. A canopy tinted in amethyst. Every surface alive with faint currents of orange light - ancient, but immaculate. It settles beside the EBON HAWK like a ghost coming home. No transponder codes. No communications. Only silence. BASTILA, MEETRA and CARTH rush in, the rest of the HEROES and a contingent of guards following. CARTH’s voice carries command, but there’s a strain beneath it - fear hiding behind control. * CARTH: “All stations, hold your fire! Nobody shoots until we know what we’re dealing with!” BASTILA and MEETRA slow as they approach. They can feel it - something vast and deliberate, like the Force holding its breath. The air feels…clean. A silence that doesn’t threaten. The ship’s ramp lowers with a deep hiss of air pressure. Steam pours outward, curling across the deck like morning fog. A scent of spice and coldness emanates. Out of it, a shape moves - slow, steady, unmistakable. A man. Cloaked, unmasked, eyes bright with memory. REVAN RETURNS, STEPPING INTO THE LIGHT. For a long moment, no one speaks. The only sound is the faint hum of REVAN's ship engines winding down, like a heartbeat fading into calm. BASTILA stares, her throat tight, words escaping as a whisper: * BASTILA: “It’s you…” Her voice cracks, almost unbelieving. “After all these years…” Words fail her, and her shoulders collapse. REVAN’s eyes find hers - warmth, sorrow, and quiet strength intertwining. * REVAN (softly): “I told you I’d come back.” CARTH steps forward beside her, his face half in shadow. He looks at the man who once cost him everything, yet somehow represents the last thing holding him together. * CARTH (low): “You picked the worst time to keep a promise.” REVAN inclines his head slightly, an echo of a smile. * REVAN: “There was never going to be a right time.” MEETRA stands a few paces away, eyes fixed, studying him the way a soldier studies a battlefield - recognizing the impossible made real. She doesn’t know how to react to him right now, but she knows she’s looking at her answer. * CARTH (steady voice): “Telos is gone. We don’t know how or why.” Some of the soldiers stifle a gasp. “You show up now - after everything - and I can’t tell if that’s hope or a warning.” REVAN looks at MEETRA, understanding written on his face. * REVAN: “Maybe both.” His eyes move to MEETRA, understanding written in his face. “They reached out, listened…and found you.” * CARTH (jaw tight): “Then start talking.” * REVAN: “Not here.” He turns slightly, already moving past the moment. “You’ll want everyone in one place. And you’ll want to hear all of it, before you decide how to respond.” CARTH looks back to BASTILA, to MEETRA. Both hold significance in the events that are to come, and events that shaped all of their past. They have shades of hesitation written across their faces, but both give their own version of a nod. * CARTH: “To the Command room then…REVAN.” The silence that follows is potent with reverence, the fear of the previous hours losing grip. For the first time since Telos’ loss, the Force feels like it has a source of direction, and hope again.. <<set $RevanReturn to "unlocked">> [[The T'Sisaarai->Sojourn1Tsisaarai]]

THE SOJOURN: The T'Sisaarai <img src="Act1/" class="gif"> The SOJOURN’s command center hums with energy now. Tactical displays flicker across the holotable, but all eyes are on REVAN. He stands unarmored, face exposed - every movement deliberate, every word weighed like the speech of a general returning from exile. * REVAN: “The Sith you’ve been fighting - the ones who wear the robes, build the dreadnaughts, call themselves Dark Lords - they are the echo of something older. They wield power drawn from the remains of the Infinite Empire - repurposed, corrupted. They think they command the darkness.” He pauses, gaze steady. “They don’t.” A hush fills the room. CARTH folds his arms tightly; BASTILA leans forward, eyes locked on him. * REVAN: “The real enemy…is the T’Sisaarai. The ‘True Sith.’ They go beyond conquering people, planets, systems. They reach through the Dark Side of the Force, and pull the life from it - thought, memory, everything that is light and life. They move in whispers and wounds, puppeteering through dreams, corruption, fear. They were the architects of every war we’ve fought since the Second Great Schism of the Jedi. They were behind the Mandalorian Wars. Behind Katarr. Behind Malachor. Behind what I had become.” The holotable shifts at his command - displaying the galaxy in cold blue light. Points of red mark each major conflict of the last fifty years, orbiting the same pattern like a slow-moving disease. * REVAN: “Each war was preparation - each death feeding them. They wore down our defenses and fighters. Now, with Telos struck, the real invasion is starting. Their ships and soldiers are only vehicles…they’re an empire of Dark Side will.” The weight of the words presses on the room like gravity. CARTH stares into the holo - his gaze fractured by the red light. BASTILA’s breath is slow, controlled, but her hands tremble at her sides. MEETRA listens in silence, her eyes fixed on the map’s spiral core. For the first time, the shape of their nightmare has definition. * BASTILA: “Then how do we fight them?” REVAN presses another command, changing the holotable - a schematic of sensor arrays and hyperspace tracking data. * REVAN: “The T’Sisaarai’s movements in the Force hide between specific wavelengths - places scanners don’t conventionally see. I’ve brought back data from my travels - their ships emit quantum harmonics distinct from anything in Republic space.” He directs his next words to CARTH. “If you recalibrate your long-range sensors to measure for gravimetric deviations in subspace harmonics, you can see their movement before they emerge.” * REVAN (now looking to MEETRA): “Add to that, the gravitic echo data you and your team gathered the last few days. Paired together, you can map the blind spots where the T’Sisaarai hide. If we can track their shadows, we can predict their strikes as they happen.” * CARTH (eyes sharpening): “You’re saying we can actually see them now?” * REVAN (nodding): “For the first time.” He looks around the table, letting the reality settle in. “We’ve been losing because you can’t fight what you can’t find. But now, we can.” The room falls silent again, from the sheer magnitude of what they’ve heard. The myth is real. The enemy is real. And for the first time since the galaxy started unraveling…there’s a plan. MEETRA exhales softly, the faintest trace of resolve returning to her eyes. * MEETRA (quietly): “Then we start there.” REVAN’s gaze meets hers - tired, kind, and unwavering. * REVAN: “We start there. Together.” For the first time since the Devouring of Telos, the HEROES breathe again, in defiance. A LEGEND has returned to known space. Hope, fragile and fierce, can take its first step. <<set $Sojourn1Tsisaarai to "unlocked">> [[Explore The SOJOURN->Sojourn1Explore]]

THE SOJOURN: Explore <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> * [[HERO Conversations with MEETRA->Sojourn1MeetraConvos]] * [[HERO Conversations with REVAN->Sojourn1RevanConvos]] * [[Birth Of An Alliance->Sojourn1Alliance]] <<set $Sojourn1Explore to "unlocked">> [[Review Galactic History->Datapad]]

THE SOJOURN: Explore <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> The command room hums with restrained urgency. Officers crowd the perimeter, holoprojectors painting the air with rotating star charts, fractured borders of the Republic, red flares marking worlds attacked by the T’Sisaarai: Dantooine, Telos IV, and uncharted regions beyond the Hydian Way. The low murmur of technicians dies as ADMIRAL ONASI steps to the head of the table. * CARTH: “You all know what happened to Telos. We lost more than a planet - we’ve lost the illusion that the wars are over. The True Sith are no longer myth. They have a name, an empire, and they’re already here.” He gestures toward the voided sectors flashing crimson. * CARTH: “The Republic will fight the T’Sisaarai. We’ll meet them in every system they touch - and drive them back into the dark that spawned them.” A ripple of determined silence answers him. Stepping from the shadowed edge to the front, cloak still travel-stained, REVAN’s voice cuts through the room - commanding, tempered by years of exile. * REVAN: “We can fight them. I’ve seen their war. They don’t trust unity, so don’t give them fractures; we need to align together - military, Jedi, outer rim. No gaps.” Officers exchange wary glances; they remember what REVAN’s leadership once meant. Yet his conviction holds them. Emerging near the entrance, MEETRA in her Jedi robes speaks with determination and solidarity, stepping to the right of CARTH. * MEETRA: “The Jedi will stand beside you.” Her tone is resolute, stripped of ceremony. “Whatever lines were drawn between the Republic and the Order end here. We will not repeat the silence of past Orders. We will answer this threat together.” The murmurs settle into reverence. Some in the crowd bow their heads - it’s the first time in decades they’ve heard a Jedi speak with a soldier’s clarity. From behind CARTH, BASTILA steps forward between CARTH and REVAN, her voice carrying the precision of diplomacy and the force of faith. * BASTILA: “Then so will the Republic’s worlds. The Senate, the trade guilds, the colonies on the Rim - they will speak with one voice. No more splintered policies, no more worlds left undefended.” The four stand in a line now - exile, soldier, unifier, savior - illuminated by the holomap’s shifting light. * CARTH: “Against this threat, we all know the Republic and the Jedi aren’t enough. This war will demand more than laws and lightsabers. Every hand that can hold a blaster, every ship that can fly, every person who still remembers what survival costs - must join us.” He pauses, letting the weight settle. * CARTH: “That means the Mandalorians.” Gasps ripple through the room. Several officers stiffen, one nearly spits a curse. * CARTH: “I fought them,” he continues evenly. “I saw their fleets burn cities and planets. But I also saw them hold the line against the Sith, when others fled. If we can win them to our cause, we can win anyone to the fight.” * BASTILA: “The galaxy cannot afford another divided war. The Mandalorians, the mercenaries, the outworld clans - all must be brought into this alliance. Not as servants of the Republic, but as defenders of life itself.” * REVAN: “They respect strength and purpose - I’ll give them one. We’ll turn these warriors into our allies.” * MEETRA: “If the Mandalorians stand with us, the mercenary guilds will follow. The underworld listens to credits and courage in equal measure - both are running short.” * CARTH: “Then it’s decided.” He faces the assembly, voice rising with the conviction of a man who’s seen too much war and destruction. “REVAN and MEETRA will secure alliances beyond the Republic. BASTILA will rally the worlds and the Senate. I’ll marshal every fleet, every battalion the Republic still has breath for. From this moment forward, we fight as one.” A heartbeat of silence. Then a young lieutenant - barely thirty - steps forward, chest tight, voice trembling but fierce. “For the Republic!” The cry catches. Others take it up - first a handful, then the whole chamber. “FOR THE REPUBLIC!” The command room erupts with thunderous voices and pounding fists against armor. CARTH lets the roar fill him; BASTILA’s eyes glisten with restrained pride. REVAN and MEETRA share a brief look - acknowledgment, history, and the weight of what comes next. The lights of the holomap flare outward, planets shifting from red to gold as if the galaxy itself answers the call. end of act one

THE SOJOURN: MEETRA <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> The war room hums with the soft, residual glow of inactive holo-projectors. The HEROES stand scattered, dazed by the storm of revelations REVAN has just unleashed - the T’Sisaarai, and the scale of the coming threat - directly after the assumed loss of Telos IV. Everybody is shaken up and overwhelmed in their own way. But there is no time to run away…action must be taken now. Throughout the room of discussions, quiet orders, and shuffling around, MEETRA looks around the room, looking at fellow HEROES and allies… <<link "REVAN">><<replace "#REVAN">> REVAN MEETRA watches REVAN move toward the observation window, his reflection pale against the void of stars. He feels her approach before he hears it, turning to her. * REVAN: “I know you remember me…but my memory of you existed in my past life. I am happy to meet you again, MEETRA SURIK.” His voice speaks with the rooted authority of a man * MEETRA (stiff): “You spoke back there as if the war never ended.” She doesn’t know what to think of most things right now, most of all him. She doesn’t understand how to trust him, at all. His formality doesn’t mean much. * REVAN (quiet, certain): “It never did. I’ve seen what waits beyond the borders of known space. The T’Sisaarai don’t just conquer their victims. They erase - history, memory, the Force itself. Telos was a first strike.” He finally faces her - half-lit, half-shadow. “They want the Republic to think nowhere is safe.” * MEETRA (folds her arms): “And you think the Republic will listen to you, after all this time?” * REVAN (quiet, firm): “No. That’s why I need you. They’ll follow the leader who stayed, not the one who ran.” Her jaw tightens at the word ran. The air between them thickens with unspoken years. * MEETRA (voice tight): “You vanished, REVAN. I searched half the galaxy. When I found nothing, I started rebuilding what you left in ruins. Now, you appear with all these warnings about an ancient war we’re still in, and expect me to fall in line?” Her tone cracks with both control and buried anger. “Why should I trust you now? How do I know you’re not on the side of the enemy?” * REVAN (eyes down, voice low): “Because if they’d taken me, you’d already be dead.” The words land heavy, sincere, stripped of ego. He breathes slowly. “I didn’t leave to betray anyone. I left to stop something that couldn’t be stopped here.” He looks up again, eyes burning like the faint echo of fire. “I went where my broken memories and the Force led me - into the dark between galaxies. I saw what built the horrors of Malachor. I saw what it fed on.” A chill runs through her, something between understanding and dread. * REVAN (voice rising): “You remember the War, better than me. Together, we were inevitable. The Mandalorians feared because we ended wars.” He steps closer, voice softening, carrying the old cadence of command. “Our inevitability is what the T’Sisaarai fear now. Alone, we aren’t enough. Together, we are the storm they can’t predict. And because of us, they will fall.” * MEETRA (staring hard): “You still sound like the Jedi who thought victory justified the cost. I don’t know how much you remember…but you showed me how to fight monsters. I almost became one of them.” She exhales sharply, then steadies herself. “But maybe that’s what the galaxy needs again - inevitability.” All of their shared memories are rushing back into their mind. Their silence says what neither can. * REVAN (softly): “I haven’t come back for redemption. I came back because I…failed. The enemy I tried to stop out there is spreading here. The T’Sisaarai…are coming for everyone. They’re coming through the cracks, through what we left broken.” He gestures faintly toward the others in the room. “They don’t understand.” He looks back to her. “You do. You always felt the Force differently, in ways no one expected.” * MEETRA (measured, weary): “You’re making me sound like a tactic. Another weapon.” * REVAN (shaking his head, searching for words): “No. What I remember of the war, I remember you always seeing what was coming before it arrived. We need that, against the T’Sisaarai” She studies him - the man, not the legend - and sees exhaustion instead of arrogance. A ghost of the legend who once carried the galaxy on his shoulders…now barely holding up, it seemed. * MEETRA (quietly): “You still talk like someone who expects to die trying.” * REVAN (half-smiles): “Someone has to.” A long pause. * MEETRA (eyes hardening): “You’ll have what help I can give. But do not mistake necessity for my agreement. I am not your General anymore.” * REVAN (nodding): “I understand. I don’t ask for agreement. Just unification against our enemy.” She considers his response, turns to leave, but his voice stops her. * REVAN (earnest): “You were the only one who always saw the truth. You saw past my mask, past the fog of war. That’s what we need now, more than ever.” She pauses, her reflection faint in the viewport beside his, looking back at him. He can come off so smug still…but she can see he’s changed. He’s not the same anymore. She walks away without a response, leaving him staring back into the stars. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "CARTH">><<replace "#CARTH">>CARTH Outside the viewport of the SOJOURN, the stars drift past in silence. CARTH leans against the durasteel railing, jaw tight. MEETRA approaches quietly, and CARTH looks to her with a weary smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. * CARTH: “SURIK. I wanted to thank you… for doing everything you could back there. I know you carried more than anyone should. And…I’m sorry. Sorry I couldn’t do more to stop it. To stop them. Telos deserved better - from me, from all of us.” * MEETRA (gently): “You’ve held the Republic together through worse, ADMIRAL. No one could have prepared for what happened. But now REVAN’s back, and the galaxy’s shifted overnight." She pauses, giving space for the weight of her words. "Can we really trust him again?” * CARTH (straightens, his voice firm, almost immediate): “Yes, without doubt. I've thought about this a lot. I watched him fall, MEETRA, and I watched him climb back - harder, sharper, stronger than anyone thought possible. When Malak nearly broke the Republic in half, it was REVAN who pulled us back from the brink. And when the Triumvirate rose, we barely survived, even with you leading the fight. These…True Sith? They’re worse. Much worse, they have to be. And if we’re going to face them, REVAN has to be at the center of it.” MEETRA crosses her arms, slightly surprised at the strength of his words * MEETRA: “You sound certain.” * CARTH: “I am, I...look. I don’t know how long the Republic can hold the line in a real war. We've been rebuilding the last few years, but the fleet’s stretched thin, the Senate’s still corrupt, and every system and group of people out there are still healing. The Republic has always leaned on the Jedi, and the Order isn't what it used to be yet." He looks at MEETRA self-consciously, the apology in his eyes, but stops himself from speaking it, wanting the truth of his words to settle. * CARTH: “With these attacks - and with REVAN’s return - we have no choice but to bring everyone together. Every soldier, every Jedi, others...anyone who’ll fight. Heck we'll take the farmboys too. I've had talks with others in command, there's a sense and hope that if events like what just happened ever came true, our best chance would be to create an alliance of some sort.” He pauses, swallowing his fear.. “I have a feeling you’ll need to talk to Canderous, soon. He’ll listen to you. It won’t go over well with the Republic…but I mean it when I say we need everyone.” * MEETRA (reaching her hand to CARTH's arm): “We'll get them ADMIRAL. We'll get them all. The threat of these Sith will demand everything from those who we ask their help. I promise it." CARTH lifts his eyes to MEETRA, trying to keep himself in check. His voice falters briefly, emotion breaking through the mask of the ADMIRAL, but then he steadies himself again, gaze hardening on the stars. * CARTH: “The Republic can put up a solid fight, I’ll see to that…but we won’t last long on our own. Not this time. That’s why REVAN matters. Whatever happens next, he’s key. And with you, and the rest of the Jedi guiding us through what we can't see or fight…maybe our chances will turn into odds faster than the Sith expect.” MEETRA watches him, recognizing the weight CARTH bears - not just as ADMIRAL, but as a true guardian of Telos’ memory. In his resolve, she sees the cost of failure. In his faith in REVAN, she sees the stakes of what’s to come. * MEETRA (turning away, allowing him privacy): “The ones we've lost will be the fuel we burn against the T'Sisaarai. We will see this through ADMIRAL. It's time to go to war." She leaves him, giving him back his solitude. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "BASTILA">><<replace "#BASTILA">>BASTILA Frenetic footsteps and background conversations gives energy to the SOJOURN. BASTILA sits alone, hands clasped tightly, staring at nothing. MEETRA steps in quietly, leaning against the doorway. * MEETRA: “He hasn’t changed much, has he? Walks in after years gone, drops a war at everyone’s feet, and expects us to fall in line.” BASTILA is startled, but not defensive. Her voice is low, almost trembling under the weight she’s been holding. * BASTILA: “No… no, he hasn’t. Ten years, MEETRA. Ten years I spent mourning him, cursing him, and still - hoping. And now he’s back, every inch the legend I knew he’d become. But it’s as if he...barely sees me. He’s too busy commanding, directing, preparing for a war I can hardly comprehend." She pauses for a moment. "I don’t know if he’s truly here.” * MEETRA: “I know what you mean. In the Mandalorian Wars, he was the same. Brilliant, charismatic, unstoppable…but always three steps ahead, so far ahead you could never catch your breath. He doesn’t stop to ask if we trust him, if we’re ready. He just is, and the galaxy either follows - or gets left behind.” BASTILA lets out a bitter laugh, quickly swallowed by grief. * BASTILA: “I’ve worn masks my whole life. First as a Jedi, learning to cage every feeling. Then as a diplomat, learning to smile and bend words while my heart broke in silence. But this?" She throws her hands up in exasperation. "This I don’t know how to mask. I don’t know if I can function at all with him here again. And the cruelest part of it -” Her voice falters, eyes glistening “- is that after all these years, I still care...for him.” MEETRA sits next to her, arm on BASTILA's shoulder. A moment of quiet passes. * MEETRA: “I don’t know how to feel about him either. Part of me wants to trust him, part of me wants to scream at him for leaving us to pick up the pieces. Maybe both are true. But if nothing else, BASTILA, you’re not alone in this.” Another moment passes. MEETRA shifts the conversation, knowing both of them need to focus. * MEETRA: “What about your political ties? Can you rally support? We’ll need more than soldiers - we’ll need leaders ready to stand against this war.” BASTILA straightens, her diplomat’s mask slipping back into place with practiced ease, happy to distract herself again. * BASTILA: “Don’t worry about that. CARTH and I have spent years guiding the Republic through fragile alliances. I know which senators can be reasoned with…and which can be persuaded by other means. Jedi support will come. The Republic will listen when I speak.” She locks her focus on MEETRA with a small, confident smile. "We are with you, and we’ll bring the system support you need. Lead, and the Republic will follow." * MEETRA (nodding, satisfied): “Good. Then we’ll need you with us, moving quickly. Your connections will open doors I can’t, and your battle meditation can tip the scales when the fighting starts.” * BASTILA (hesitates, then admits quietly): “That’s what I want. To stand with you again. To move faster, strike harder. The Republic needs it.…and, I need it.” BASTILA's voice carries an unspoken truth - that what she truly needs is to stand near REVAN once more. MEETRA sees it but doesn’t press, understanding the weight BASTILA carries. * MEETRA (pausing, then nodding in affirmation): “Then it’s settled. You’re with me. Whatever this war brings, we’ll face it together. And if REVAN thinks he’s carrying the galaxy alone...he’s about to be reminded how wrong he is.” The two women share a quiet, knowing look - both carrying their own weight from REVAN, both understanding the value they bring now. For the first time since Telos was lost, BASTILA’s shoulders ease, her resolve returning. The galaxy is on fire, but she won’t be left behind again. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "ATTON">><<replace "#ATTON">>ATTON The SOJOURN hums quietly, but the air in the hallway feels heavier than normal. MEETRA sits on a bench, still processing REVAN’s return, her hands clasped tightly. ATTON leans in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her for a moment before speaking. * ATTON: “So…REVAN. The big legend himself. Back from the dead, just in time to tell us we’re all doomed. Guess your day’s been a little more exciting than mine.” He smirks, but it’s thin - his voice meant to sound casual, but edged with strain. * MEETRA (sighs): “You don’t understand, ATTON. I fought beside him. I watched him tear through armies, command fleets, break the Mandalorians. And then… he was gone. Silence, and suddenly he’s here, barking orders like nothing’s changed. I don’t even know where to start.” * ATTON: “Yeah. Figures. You finally get your answers, and instead you get a whole new list of questions. Classic Jedi luck.” He pushes off the doorway, steps closer, his usual smirk softening a little. * ATTON: “But hey, forget him for a second. You still standing? Because that’s what I care about. Look at the last two weeks - Force distortions tearing the stars apart, running across half the galaxy, digging through graves of old wars like it’s yesterday. One day it’s a lost temple, the next it’s a Sith ambush, and somewhere in between the galaxy’s screaming at us to remember things we’d rather forget. No one could keep pace with that - not even you.” * MEETRA (quietly, staring at the floor): “And in the middle of it all… Bao-Dur.” Silence falls like a boulder from the sky. ATTON sits across from her, his cocky veneer slipping away completely for once. The empty air holds on for a few moments before either one moves. * ATTON: “Yeah." He shuffles his feet, idling nervously. "He deserved better than this madness. Always fixing, always building, like maybe one day he could undo the damage Malachor left behind. And now…” He trails off, voice catching, then steadies himself with effort “…now we just keep breaking things without him.” * MEETRA: “He carried so much. The guilt, the burden…but he never let it stop him from doing good. I should’ve been there when it happened.” * ATTON (looking toward her): “Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself. He knew what he signed on for. We all did. And if he were here, he’d tell you to stop looking backward. Probably with that half-smile, half-sigh like he always did when the rest of us were being idiots.” He rubs a hand over his face, then forces the crooked grin back, though his eyes glisten faintly. * ATTON: “But hey, no time to grieve when the galaxy’s ending, right? Just one disaster to the next. Telos being eaten alive, Sith Lords popping out of shadows…" He hangs his head a bit. "I’ve seen a lot of nightmares, MEETRA but this? This is worse. Worse than Malachor. At least there, you could fight. Here, you just watch the light go out.” * MEETRA (small empathetic smile): “You’ve seen worse than most. Malachor, the Triumvirate…you survived it all.” * ATTON: “Yeah, survived. Didn’t walk away clean, though.” His voice drops, dark with memory. “I used to hear Jedi die through the Force, you know. Their screams, cut short when my blade hit home. That sound never left me. And today…Telos? It was like hearing it all at once. Millions of voices, screaming - then nothing. Just silence. You don’t forget that. Ever.” He looks away, jaw tight, before forcing a crooked grin back onto his face. * ATTON: “But you know me. Always good for a joke when the galaxy’s ending. Makes it easier not to think about how much I want to run and never look back.” * MEETRA (gently): “Then, why are you still here?” * ATTON (meets her eyes, honesty slipping past the humor): “...Because you’re here. And if you’re going to fight the things that did this, then so am I. Even if it kills me. Especially if it kills me.” The grin flickers again, but it’s not to hide this time - it’s the only shield he has left. MEETRA studies him, recognizing the cracks beneath the sarcasm. ATTON is terrified, but his loyalty is unshaken. For all his scoundrel’s bravado, he’s made his choice: to stand by her, even against horrors that could devour entire worlds. She chooses in that moment to do something rare - she reaches towards him and gently embraces him. ATTON, ever the guarded scoundrel, freezes up at her touch. Something inside him softens, and he awkwardly returns the embrace. They stay in this warm moment. The unspoken embrace sharing a hope that is only for them, is only known by them, but has no words associated with it. After what feels like a spinning minute, MEETRA releases him, gives a thankful smile, and walks toward the others. * ATTON: “Guess I’m not as easy to walk away from as I thought.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "MIRA">><<replace "#MIRA">>MIRA In one of the SOJOURN's cargo holds, crates are stacked unevenly, MIRA paces, restless, her blaster and saber strapped but her expression torn between anger and determination. MEETRA sees her as she's walking by, and changes her direction to meet MIRA. She approaches quietly, her eyes heavy, knowing that MIRA is struggling. * MIRA: “You know… it’s okay to let it hit you. All of it. Dantooine, Telos, Bao-Dur. You don’t always have to be the one holding the line while the rest of us stumble behind you.” * MEETRA (softly, eyes down): “I don’t know how to stop. If I let myself feel it all, I don’t know if I’d get back up again.” * MIRA (slowing, staring at MEETRA): “Then let me help carry it. That’s what friends are for, right? You’ve got me, ATTON, the others… geez, even REVAN’s back now. But you, MEETRA - you’re the one who does the impossible. You’ve done it before. You can save people. You can save us.” MEETRA finally looks up at her. MIRA approaches her, meeting her at eye level, her voice firm but warm. * MIRA: “Listen - the day’s not lost. Yeah, they hit us hard. They took Telos, they took BAO-DUR. It hurts like hell. But we can’t give up, can’t run, can’t curl up and die. That’s not who we are. We get back out there. We hit harder. We make them regret ever thinking they could touch what’s ours.” A silence. MEETRA studies MIRA, then lets out a faint, tired laugh. * MEETRA: “You always did have a way of making things sound simple.” * MIRA: “Simple doesn’t mean easy. But it does mean possible. And I’m not letting you forget it.” She offers her hand. MEETRA takes it, and they gently knock heads. The two stand shoulder to shoulder, scarred, exhausted, but unbroken. * MIRA: “Whatever comes next - we fight it. Together. Sisters in this mess.” MEETRA nods, and smiles. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "JOLEE">><<replace "#JOLEE">>JOLEE MEETRA finds JOLEE having a cynical conversation with T3-M4, mostly because he can't understand the random sounds that come out of the droid. As MEETRA approaches JOLEE, his expression moves from pointed to tired, moving his gaze to the starfield outside. * JOLEE: “An entire station. Drained dry. Millions gone in an instant, and Dantooine scarred again for good measure. By the Force, girl, I thought I’d seen everything…but this? This is new. This isn’t just the same old Sith plague crawling out of its grave again. No, this is worse. This is the cycle escalating, spiraling into something I don’t think even the galaxy’s ready to imagine.” His voice is rough, anger biting through, but there’s an edge of exhaustion…like an old man watching history betray him one more time. * MEETRA: “I tried to warn them. Tried to tell them there was something greater lurking in the shadows. REVAN and Kreia tried to warn me too. And now…now they’re here. And we’re already losing.” JOLEE clicks his tongue, then sighs, shaking his head. * JOLEE: “Don’t you start talking like it’s over. Telos rebuilt itself once after Malak. Seeing it gutted again, dammit it makes me sick. But it also makes me damned stubborn. You don’t come for survivors under my watch and get away with it.” He leans forward, voice dropping lower, gruff but steady. * JOLEE: “You know what stings the most? Tython. I put my wrinkled hide on the line to help build that place, lay the foundation stones for a future I thought the Jedi might actually keep this time. All that teaching, all that rebuilding - and it still wasn’t enough to see this coming. Feels like spitting in the eye of everything we worked for.” * MEETRA (softly with empathy): “I know. I feel it too. We’re trying to keep the Jedi alive…trying to make sure they had a chance at something better. And still…the darkness finds them.” * JOLEE (grumbles, half laugh, half growl): “Too late to slip back into exile now, huh? Not that you’d let me anyway. You’d probably come drag me out by the ear.” * MEETRA (cracks a faint smile): “You’re right. I wouldn’t let you. You’re needed here, JOLEE. More than ever.” The two sit in silence for a beat, the hum of the ship filling the room. JOLEE finally leans back, letting out a long breath, his frustration giving way to quiet resolve. * JOLEE: “Fine. Then we fight. We fight because the kids deserve better than this. Because somebody has to stand between them and the dark, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t us. You, me, and every stubborn fool still breathing.” * MEETRA (nodding firmly): “With us, there’s still hope. For the Order. For the Republic. For the galaxy.” * JOLEE: “And with friends at our side, that hope has no limits.” They share a defiant look for each other. Two battle-scarred Jedi, both reluctant teachers of the next generation, bound by duty and loyalty to each other. In the face of escalating darkness, they choose resolve - and with them, the galaxy’s hope burns brighter. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "T3-M4">><<replace "#T3-M4">>T3-M4 Beeps and boops can be heard down the halls as T3-M4 rolls across the deck, cables plugged into multiple terminals at once. He’s chirping rapidly, projecting half-formed holo-maps into the air. Meetra approaches, steadying her voice despite the chaos. * MEETRA: "T3, slow down. I can’t track all of this at once. Start with what you’ve got." * T3-M4: Beep-bweep-whooeeep! Wooo-dwoo-bwip! * MEETRA (nodding): "Yes, REVAN’s return unlocked the HAWK’s navicomputer. All the locked coordinates - every hidden journey. That’s what you’re processing now?" * T3-M4: Dwoo-weep! Beep-beep-bwoo! * MEETRA: "I see. Cross-referencing with BAO-DUR’s files.” She paused, holding back the emotional surge. “You think the Infinite Empire’s Star Maps line up with the T’Sisaarai activity we’ve seen." * T3-M4: Woooo-bwoop! Bweep-bweep-bweep! He projects a starmap with overlapping coordinates, flashing connections. * MEETRA (leaning in): "You’ve already narrowed it down to sectors. Stars above… you’re telling me this isn’t random. The T’Sisaarai are following the Rakatan paths." * T3-M4: Bwooeeep! Dwoo-dwoo-weep! * MEETRA (quietly): "And you’ve confirmed it. Telos wasn’t just an attack… it was a step in a pattern. You’re certain." * T3-M4: Sharp beep, long warble. * MEETRA (sighs, then places a hand on his dome): "You’ve done more than most Jedi ever could, T3. Keep pulling it together. We’ll need every scrap you can find if we’re going to stop them." * T3-M4: Triumphant series of rising whistles, followed by a sharp double-beep. * MEETRA (half-smiling despite herself): "Yes…I’ll tell the others. No, don’t worry - I’ll make them listen to you. MEETRA walks away, considering the information T3-M4 just shared. <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Explore the SOJOURN">>

THE SOJOURN: REVAN <img src="Act1/.png" class="imgresp"> The war room hums with the soft, residual glow of inactive holo-projectors. The HEROES stand scattered, dazed by the storm of revelations REVAN has just unleashed - the T’Sisaarai, and the scale of the coming threat - directly after the assumed loss of Telos IV. Everybody is shaken up and overwhelmed in their own way. But there is no time to run away…action must be taken now. Throughout the room of discussions, quiet orders, and shuffling around, REVAN looks around the room, looking at fellow HEROES and allies… <<link "MEETRA">><<replace "#MEETRA">> MEETRA REVAN watches the stars drift slowly beyond the observation window, reflecting on how the void simply feels patient to him now. He senses a unique presence approaching him, and considers what to say. He turns as she reaches him. * REVAN: “I know you remember me…but my memory of you existed in my past life. I am happy to meet you again, MEETRA SURIK.” The formality is deliberate. She looks at him stiffly. The tension in her posture confirms what he already sensed when she entered the room - confusion, anger, restraint. * MEETRA: “You spoke back there as if the war never ended.” * REVAN (quiet, certain): “It never did. I’ve seen what waits beyond the borders of known space. The T’Sisaarai don’t just conquer their victims. They erase - history, memory, the Force itself. Telos was a first strike.” He turns fully toward her. “They want the Republic to think nowhere is safe.” * MEETRA (folds her arms): “And you think the Republic will listen to you, after all this time?” REVAN almost smiles at that. He can’t think of a time the Republic had ever listened to him. * REVAN (quiet, firm): “No. That’s why I need you. They’ll follow the leader who stayed, not the one who ran.” He feels the shift in her immediately, anger rising like heat. * MEETRA (voice tight): “You vanished, REVAN. I searched half the galaxy. When I found nothing, I started rebuilding what you left in ruins. Now, you appear with all these warnings about an ancient war we’re still in, and expect me to fall in line?” The pain in her voice lands harder than her accusation. “Why should I trust you now? How do I know you’re not on the side of the enemy?” REVAN lowers his gaze…there is no defense he can offer that erases the years he left behind. He wishes he could make them understand, the way he does. * REVAN (voice low): “Because if they’d taken me, you’d already be dead. I didn’t leave to betray anyone. I left to stop something that couldn’t be stopped here.” The memories press forward, the endless dark beyond the Rim, ruins older than the Republic, civilizations erased without trace. “I went where my broken memories and the Force led me - into the dark between galaxies. I saw what built the horrors of Malachor. I saw what it fed on.” He watches the realization begin to creep into her expression. He presses forward. * REVAN (convicted): “You remember the War, better than me. Together, we were inevitable. The Mandalorians feared because we ended wars.” He steps closer, his voice lowering, carrying the urgency. “Our inevitability is what the T’Sisaarai fear now. Alone, we aren’t enough. Together, we are the storm they can’t predict. And because of us, they will fall.” She watches him carefully, searching him. He doesn’t recoil from it. * MEETRA: “You still sound like the Jedi who thought victory justified the cost. I don’t know how much you remember…but you showed me how to fight monsters. I almost became one of them.” Her voice steadies. “But maybe that’s what the galaxy needs again - inevitability.” Broken memories between them hang in the air…the Mandalorian Wars, Malachor, the choices that reshaped the galaxy. * REVAN (softly): “I haven’t come back for redemption. I came back because I…failed.” The admission feels unfamiliar on his tongue. “The enemy I tried to stop out there is spreading here. The T’Sisaarai…are coming for everyone. They’re coming through the cracks, through what we left broken.” He studies the people moving around the command deck. “They don’t understand.” He looks back at her. “You do. You always felt the Force differently, in ways no one expected.” She tilts her head slightly, unimpressed. * MEETRA: “You’re making me sound like a tactic. Another weapon.” REVAN shakes his head immediately. The statement bothers him. He searches for the right words. * REVAN: “No. What I remember of the war, I remember you always seeing what was coming before it arrived. We need that, against the T’Sisaarai.” She studies him carefully, deeper. She can feel her gaze push into him. He can imagine the impression she’s forming in her mind. * MEETRA: “You still talk like someone who expects to die trying.” * REVAN (small, tired half-smile): “Someone has to.” The silence stretches again, before she speaks again. * MEETRA (hardened eyes): “You’ll have what help I can give. But do not mistake necessity for my agreement. I am not your General anymore.” * REVAN: “I understand. I don’t ask for agreement. Just unification against our enemy.” She considers that, and turns to leave. Just before she reaches the doorway, he speaks again. * REVAN: “You were the only one who always saw the truth.” She pauses, listening. * REVAN: “You saw past my mask, past the fog of war. That’s what we need now, more than ever.” She doesn’t answer. Her reflection lingers faintly in the viewport beside his before disappearing down the corridor. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "CARTH">><<replace "#CARTH">>CARTH CARTH ONASI is standing near a viewport when REVAN enters. The ADMIRAL doesn’t move at first. * CARTH (staring him down): “You always did know how to make an entrance.” * REVAN: “I wasn’t certain you’d want to see me.” * CARTH (exhaling through his nose): “You disappear for fifteen years without a word. Then you show up in the middle of a galaxy-wide Force disturbance.” He pauses, for effect. “Yeah. I wanted to see you.” REVAN gives a small smile, grateful to be in the same room as his friend again. He studies him quietly, before responding. * REVAN: “The war never ended, CARTH.” * CARTH (folding his arms): “I remember hearing that before…right before we flew into the Star Forge and destroyed Malak.” * REVAN: “That was the end of one war.” He looks away, out through the viewport * CARTH (eyes narrowing): “Then start talking.” REVAN breathing in, sifting through the weight of his knowledge. * REVAN: “The T’Sisaarai, they’re real. The Unknown Regions hold the collateral damage of their conquests. It’s been going on for thousands of years…I still don’t know how old they are.” * CARTH (frowning): “You’re telling me whole systems just…disappear?” * REVAN: “Yes.” Silence stretches between them, CARTH processing, REVAN sifting. * CARTH: “And you’ve been fighting this alone?” * REVAN (solemn): “No. Slowing them down, maybe. Even I’m not that arrogant to think I could hold them back.” * CARTH (shaking his head): “You could’ve told someone. You could’ve told me” REVAN feels irritation in his spine, but hides it. * REVAN: “Knowing they existed wasn’t enough. I knew the war would demand clear, decisive information. Nobody else could have survived what I discovered.” * CARTH: “...and now they’re here anyway.” REVAN nods. CARTH runs a hand across his face, frustration lingering beneath his composure. * CARTH: “For years…I told myself there had to be a reason you left. Something important enough to risk the Republic standing alone.” He glances at REVAN. “Looks like I was right. Not sure I’m glad I was though.” * REVAN (tone softened): “You’ve always believed in the Republic more than I did.” * CARTH: “Someone has to.” His posture straightens, the ADMIRAL returning. “If what you’re saying is true, the Republic isn’t ready for another war. Half the Senate thinks the Sith are gone for good.” * REVAN: “They’ll need convincing, then.” * CARTH (turning to him): “You planning to walk into the Senate and explain this?” * REVAN: “No. That’s why I came to you.” * CARTH (short laugh): “You’re serious.” * REVAN: “The T’Sisaarai will strike the Republic’s lifelines first. Trade routes. Fleets. Infrastructure. Overwhelm everything. The Republic needs to hold firm.” CARTH looks out at the stars again. After a moment, he nods. * CARTH: “I can hold the Navy firm, and marshall forces.” He gives REVAN a knowing eye, his tone suggestive. “But I’m not the one to talk to when it comes to the Senate.” A lump rises up in his throat. Unavoidable, but hard all the same. He swallows the lump, nodding gently. * REVAN: “I know. I’ll talk to her soon.” * CARTH (determined): “Good. Let’s figure out how we win this one.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "BASTILA">><<replace "#BASTILA">>BASTILA REVAN moves through the SOJOURN’s command level with deliberate restraint. The corridors and the command room are the only places he allows himself to search. Beyond them lie private quarters and quieter decks where she might be - places he chooses not to enter. He can feel her presence somewhere aboard the ship, faint but unmistakable. The familiarity pulls at him, but uncertainty holds him back. After a long moment standing in the empty command room, he accepts the silence and leaves it be. <</replace>><</link>> <<link "JOLEE">><<replace "#JOLEE">>JOLEE REVAN spots JOLEE leaning casually against a bulkhead near the SOJOURN’s observation deck, staff in hand, watching the stars as if they owe him money. JOLEE glances over, eyes narrowing before a crooked grin forms. * JOLEE: “Well I’ll be. Either I’m hallucinating, or the galaxy’s most inconvenient Jedi finally decided to come home.” * REVAN (faint smile): “It’s good to see you too, JOLEE.” JOLEE pushes himself off the wall, slowly circling him like he’s inspecting an old artifact. * JOLEE: “You know, the Senate had a whole speech ready for you. Hero of the Republic, Savior of Civilization, that sort of thing.” He gestures vaguely. “Hard to deliver it when the hero decides to vanish into the unknown like a dramatic holodrama ending.” * REVAN (chuckling): “I suspected you wouldn’t approve.” * JOLEE: “Approve? Oh no, I loved it. Nothing confuses politicians more than a hero who refuses to stick around and be celebrated.” A beat passes. Their humor fades into something steadier. * REVAN: “I feel like you had a hand in keeping the Jedi alive, these last few years.” JOLEE shrugs, though his eyes soften. * JOLEE: “Someone had to make sure the galaxy didn’t forget what a Jedi is. Still…good to see you alive, REVAN.” They stand there a moment, silent but comfortable. * REVAN: “Likewise, old friend.” <</replace>><</link>> <<link "T3-M4">><<replace "#T3-M4">>T3-M4 The sound of hurried repulsors echoes down the SOJOURN’s corridor before REVAN even turns. A familiar dome appears around the corner, sensors whirling. * T3-M4: “Bee-woo! Dee-deet!” REVAN kneels instinctively as the droid skids to a stop in front of him, letting out a rapid burst of excited chirps. For the first time since boarding the ship, REVAN’s composure cracks into genuine happiness. * REVAN: “T3…it’s good to see you.” The droid’s projector flickers briefly, cycling through star charts and encrypted logs. * T3-M4: “Beep-deet! Whirr-woo!” * REVAN: “You kept it safe.” He places a hand gently on the top of the droid’s dome. “Everything I entrusted to you…you protected it all these years.” T3 emits a proud trill, dome spinning once in a tight circle. * REVAN (smiling faintly): “I knew you would.” The droid settles beside him, posture almost impossibly satisfied. <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Explore the SOJOURN">>

As you continue through the story, character descriptions will appear and update. Villans <<if $Dantooine1AShadow>><img src="Portrait/Veluthar Portrait.png" class="thumbs"><<link "Lord Veluthar">><<replace "#Veluthar">>Lord Veluthar <img src="Portrait/Veluthar Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Voice of the Sith’ari Overview Lord Veluthar is a Sith sorcerer whose transformation through an ancient Sith relic turned him into a living conduit for eldritch dark side power. He is known for wielding Sith sorcery, psychic domination, and the terrifying ability to channel the darkest depths of the T’Sisaarai’s power, a corrupting force that fractures minds and bends perception. His actions are driven by devotion to the will of the Sith’ari, serving as their living voice and instrument within the galaxy. He is an entity whose very presence distorts reality and whose words shape the fate of those who hear them. Affiliations * Species: Sith hybrid * Homeworld: Unknown * Faction: Sith * Organization: Adasii Notable Traits * Master of Sith sorcery and ritual manipulation * Cold, inhuman detachment * Dark Side channeling and telepathic possession <</replace>><</link>><</if>> Enemies <<if $Ossus1AssassinRemnants>><img src="Portrait/RemnantSithAssassin Portrait.png" class="thumb"><<link "Remnant Sith Assassins">><<replace "#SithAssassins">>Remnant Sith Assassins <img src="Portrait/RemnantSithAssassin Portrait.png" class="portrait"> Dark Side Hunters, Remnants of the Sith Triumvirate Overview Sith Assassins are dark side operatives trained to hunt Jedi and eliminate enemies of the Sith through stealth, terror, and ruthless efficiency. They are known for their mastery of ambush tactics, Force concealment, and their service to the Sith Triumvirate during the dark years following the Jedi Civil War. Their actions are driven by devotion to their Sith masters and the doctrine that the Jedi must be eradicated from the galaxy. Over time, with the deaths of their Sith Lords, the assassins persist only as scattered remnants - still dangerous, but lacking the coordination and power that once made them a feared force across the galaxy. Affiliations * Species: Various * Faction: Sith * Organization: Sith Triumvirate (formerly) Notable Traits * Stealth combat and infiltration * Fanatical loyalty to Sith doctrine * Force cloaking and predatory hunting instincts <</replace>><</link>><</if>> Anti-Heroes <<if $Manaan1Explore>><<link "Dosha'var">><<replace "#Doshavar">>Dosha'var <img src="Portrait/" class="portrait"> Selkath Political Influencer, Advocate for Manaan Isolation Overview Dosha’var is the Chief Justice for the Ahto City Council on Manaan, known for his strong influence over the Council during a time of rising tension between offworld powers and the planet’s kolto economy. He is known for advocating strict isolationist policies and pushing the council toward defensive measures against growing Republic, corporate, and Sith interference. His actions are driven by a desire to protect Manaan’s sovereignty and resources, though his methods deepen political conflict both on and off the world. Affiliations * Species: Selkath * Homeworld: Manaan * Faction: Selkath Government * Organization: Selkath High Council (influential advisor) Notable Traits * Political manipulation and council influence * Isolationist ideology * Strong rhetorical and diplomatic pressure <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Manaan1Oppurtunity>><<link "Kelru'then">><<replace "#Kelruthen">>Kelru'then <img src="Portrait/" class="portrait"> Selkath Councilmember of Ahto City Overview Kelru’then is a Selkath councilmember of Ahto City whose political stance centers on strict Selkath sovereignty and control of Manaan’s resources. He is known for his forceful defense of Selkath authority over kolto production and the governance of their world. His actions are driven by the belief that Manaan must never lose control of its most valuable resource, even if difficult compromises must be made to maintain that power. Over time, Kelru’then’s decisions reveal both the dangers of political pride and the consequences of trusting outside corporations, particularly when his secret dealings with Czerka lead to betrayal and crisis. Affiliations * Species: Selkath * Homeworld: Manaan * Faction: Selkath Government * Organization: Ahto City High Council Notable Traits * Political authority within Selkath governance * Proud defender of Selkath sovereignty * Willingness to make risky decisions to secure Manaan’s resources <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Telos1Keth>><<link "Zevraxx Keth">><<replace "#Keth">>Zevraxx Keth <img src="Portrait/" class="portrait"> Bumani Exchange Leader on Telos IV Overview Zevraxx Keth is an industrialist crime boss who leads the Bumani Exchange Corporation on Citadel Station. He is known for his ruthless belief that strength is created through stress and controlled instability, a philosophy he uses to justify sabotage and resource hoarding. His actions are driven by a conviction that Telos must be hardened through forceful leadership rather than cooperative governance. Over time, his campaign to “strengthen” Telos through engineered crises leads to his confrontation and arrest by the Jedi and Telos Security Force. Affiliations * Species: Falleen * Homeworld: Falleen * Faction: Bumani Exchange Corporation Organization: Telos IV, Citadel station Notable Traits * Strategic manipulation of infrastructure and resource control * Fanatically convinced that hardship and pressure create strength * Charismatic ideological conviction that allows him to rationalize sabotage as “structural testing” <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<back "Go back">>

As you continue through the story, starship descriptions will appear and update. <<if $Ossus1Disturbances>><img src="Starships/EbonHawk.png" class="thumb"><<link "The Ebon Hawk">><<replace "#EbonHawk">>The Ebon Hawk <img src="Starships/EbonHawk.png" class="portrait"> Legendary Smuggling Freighter Overview The Ebon Hawk is a heavily modified light freighter famous for its role in several galaxy-shaping conflicts. It is known for its speed, resilience, and for carrying some of the most influential figures of the Old Republic era, including Revan and Meetra Surik. Its journeys are driven by the missions and convictions of its crews, often placing the ship at the center of conflicts involving the Jedi, Sith, and the Republic. Over time, the Ebon Hawk becomes a symbol of survival and unity among the heroes who travel aboard it. Affiliations * Type: Modified Light Freighter * Faction: Independent; frequently allied with the Galactic Republic and the Jedi * Organization: Jedi Notable Traits * Exceptional speed and maneuverability due to extensive modifications * Reliable and enduring, often surviving battles that would destroy similar vessels * Advanced navigation and sensor capabilities with extensive upgrades by its crews and companion droids History The Jedi Civil War The Ebon Hawk is originally used by the smuggler Davik Kang and his pilot Calo Nord. During the conflict surrounding the Jedi Civil War, the ship is stolen by Revan and his allies on Taris. Under his command, the ship becomes the primary vessel for a group of Jedi and Republic allies seeking the Star Forge. The ship travels across the galaxy during the hunt for the Star Maps, ultimately playing a key role in the defeat of Darth Malak. The Dark Wars The Ebon Hawk is thought lost when Revan disappears, rumored to be searching for the Sith in the Unknown Regions. Years later, the ship becomes the vessel of Meetra Surik (the Jedi Exile). Alongside companions such as Atton Rand, Bao-Dur, Mira, and T3-M4, the Ebon Hawk travels the galaxy confronting the Sith Triumvirate and restoring the Jedi Order. Restoration The Ebon Hawk remains the primary ship of Meetra Surik after the defeat of the Sith Triumvirate, transporting her through the Unknown Regions for a time, searching for Revan. Meetra eventually returns to the Known Galaxy, with the ship carrying her and her companions through goodwill and diplomatic efforts in support of the Jedi Accords. Hero Residency # Cockpit: Atton Rand # Communications: # Security/Main Hold: # Medical Bay: <<if $Tython1Arrival>>Jolee Bindo<</if>> # Turret Access # Engine Room: T3-M4 # Cargo Hold: # Garage: <<if !$Telos1Devouring>>Bao-Dur<<elseif $Telos1Devouring>><</if>> # Port Dormitory: Meetra Surik # Starboard Dormitory: # Storage Compartment: Mira <img src="Starships/Ebon Hawk Layout.png" class="png"> <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Revan1 or $RevanReturn>><img src="Starships/Phantom.png" class="thumb"><<link "Revan's Phantom">><<replace "#Phantom">>Revan'sPhantom <img src="Starships/Phantom.png" class="portrait"> Revan’s Stealth Vessel Overview The Phantom is a stealth vessel used by Revan during his long search for the True Sith in the Unknown Regions. It is known for its extreme stealth capabilities, Force-responsive systems, and unusual technology linked to ancient Rakatan design. Its purpose is not combat but concealment, allowing its pilot to move unseen across dangerous regions of space. The ship’s function is driven by Revan’s mission to observe, hunt, and delay the hidden enemies of the galaxy without revealing his presence. Over time, the Phantom becomes Revan’s solitary companion during almost a decade of vigilance beyond known space. Affiliations * Type: Nyx-class Starship * Faction: None * Organization: None Notable Traits * Extreme stealth and infiltration capability * Quiet, restrained design reflecting solitary operation * Force-responsive navigation and control systems that react directly to the pilot’s presence and awareness History Revan discovers the Phantom on the world of Voss after committing to pursue the hidden Sith threat beyond the Republic. The vessel appears ancient and unusual, with design elements suggesting links to technologies derived from the Infinite Empire. Its cloaking systems and low emissions allow him to remain undetected while investigating the forces threatening the galaxy <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Sojourn1Connections>><img src="Starships/Sojourn.png" class="thumb"><<link "Carth's Sojourn">><<replace "#Sojourn">>Carth'sSojourn <img src="Starships/Sojourn.png" class="portrait"> Republic Hammerhead-class Command Frigate / Flagship of Admiral Carth Onasi Overview The Sojourn is a Republic Hammerhead-class command frigate serving as the flagship of Admiral Carth Onasi during the Republic’s reconstruction period following decades of war. It is known for its leadership role in maintaining stability along major hyperspace lanes and coordinating Republic patrols against lingering threats such as pirates, raiders, and Sith remnants. The vessel’s operations are driven by the Republic’s need to preserve fragile peace and rebuild galactic security after the Mandalorian Wars and Jedi Civil War. Over time, the Sojourn becomes a strategic hub for the Republic’s response to emerging galactic threats, including the investigation into a mysterious galaxy-wide disturbance in the Force. Affiliations * Species: Hammerhead-class Frigate) * Faction: Galactic Republic * Organization: Republic Navy Notable Traits * Fleet coordination and hyperspace-lane patrol operations * Steadfast and disciplined command vessel * Serves as a mobile command center capable of coordinating military, diplomatic, and reconnaissance efforts across large sectors of space History Republic Reconstruction Era Following the devastating Mandalorian Wars and Jedi Civil War, the Republic Navy refits surviving Hammerhead-class ships to restore stability to the galaxy. The Sojourn emerges as one of these enduring vessels, tasked with protecting major trade routes and maintaining order during the fragile rebuilding period. Command of Admiral Carth Onasi The Sojourn becomes the flagship of Admiral Carth Onasi, a veteran of earlier conflicts. From this command ship, he leads patrols along the Hydian trade routes, coordinating forces to counter pirates, raiders, and scattered Sith remnants threatening the recovering Republic. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Tython1Explore>><img src="Starships/Tho Yor.png" class="thumb"><<link "Tho Yor">><<replace "#ThoYor">>Tho Yor <img src="Starships/Tho Yor.png" class="portrait">Force Convergence Structure Overview The Tho Yor is a colossal ancient structure tied to the earliest history of Force traditions and the origins of the Je’daii Order. A towering obelisk, it is known for its mysterious construction, powerful connection to the Force, and its role in gathering and guiding Force-sensitive beings. Its presence influences the balance between Ashla and Bogan, and its functions appear designed to test and unify those capable of wielding the Force. The Tho Yor are legendary relics of the earliest Force civilizations, remembered as enigmatic catalysts for the formation of the Je’daii. Affiliations * Type: Unknown * Faction: Unknown Notable Traits * Manipulation and amplification of large-scale Force energies * Silent and observational, responding only through the Force * Generates powerful Force waves that test the balance of nearby Force-users History Arrival of the Tho Yor Long before the rise of the Jedi, enormous Tho Yor structures appeared across the galaxy. These towering obelisks drew Force-sensitive beings toward them, eventually transporting many of them to Tython where they formed the earliest Force society. Foundation of the Je’daii Order On Tython, the Tho Yor became central to the Je’daii civilization. Those who gathered around the structures studied the balance between Ashla and Bogan, eventually forming the earliest teachings that would lead to the Jedi Order. The interiors of the Tho Yor contain vast crystalline chambers that appear far larger than their exterior dimensions. Within these spaces, Force-users experience visions, trials, and teachings that measure their harmony between light and dark aspects of the Force. Rediscovery Millennia later, Jedi explorers and scholars encounter surviving Tho Yor structures on Tython. Their presence continues to influence the planet’s balance in the Force, and those who approach them may feel the structures actively observing and responding to disturbances in the Force. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Dantooine1Escape>><img src="Starships/Sith Dreadnaught.png" class="thumb"><<link "Veluthar's Dreadnaught">><<replace "#VelutharDreadnaught">>Veluthar's Dreadnaught <img src="Starships/Sith Dreadnaught.png" class="portrait"> Sith Capital Warship Overview The Sith Dreadnought is a massive Hammer-Spine class assault warship designed for direct, overwhelming engagements in fleet combat. These vessels are known for their brutal simplicity, heavy forward weaponry, and their role as the primary shock units of Sith naval forces. Their purpose is straightforward: smash through enemy formations and destroy opposition through sustained firepower. The actions of these dreadnoughts are driven by Sith doctrines of domination and decisive force. Over time, they become feared symbols of Sith military power, often spearheading assaults intended to break Republic defenses through sheer destructive capability. Affiliations * Type: Hammer-Spine Assault Dreadnought * Faction: Sith Notable Traits * Heavy assault and fleet breakthrough operations * Brutal, relentless design prioritizing destruction over finesse * Dual spinal plasma burners capable of devastating short-range strikes against capital ships <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<back "Go back">>

Light-Aligned Planets <<if $Ossus1Disturbances>><img src="Planets/Ossus.png" class="thumb"><<link "Ossus">><<replace "#Ossus">>Ossus <img src="Planets/Ossus.png" class="portrait">A temperate world of high plateaus, verdant plains, and crystalline caverns, Ossus served as the spiritual and scholarly heart of the Jedi Order for millennia until its devastation in the Great Sith War. * ~25,000 BBY: Ossus becomes a core Jedi world shortly after the formation of the Republic; the Jedi establish the Great Jedi Library, preserving artifacts and knowledge from across the galaxy. * 5,000 BBY: Following the Great Hyperspace War, the Jedi relocate their headquarters from Coruscant to Ossus, further expanding its archives and training grounds. * 3,996 BBY: During the Great Sith War, Exar Kun draws Republic and Jedi forces into battle near Ossus. Due to Exar Kun’s machinations the Cron Cluster is destroyed, unleashing a massive solar flare that devastates the planet. Jedi evacuations save some knowledge and artifacts, but much is lost. ** Ossus lies in ruins; surviving enclaves and vaults become scattered and buried beneath the changed surface. ** Some Jedi return to recover artifacts, but the world is largely abandoned following this time<</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Tython1Arrival>><img src="Planets/Tython.png" class="thumb"><<link "Tython">><<replace "#Tython">>Tython <img src="Planets/Tython.png" class="portrait">The homeworld of the Ancient Je'daii. A Force-rich world of wild forests, deep valleys, and reactive weather, where powerful Force storms manifested in response to imbalance between light and dark. * ~100,000 BBY: In their quest to map Force-rich worlds, the Kwa visit Tython. * 36,000 BBY: Je’daii arrival ** The Tho Yor starships gather Force Sensitives from across the galaxy and transport them to Tython. ** The Je'daii Order is founded, training its inhabitants on how to balance their power between Ashla (light side) and Bogan (dark side). ** Nine great temples were built where each Tho Yor landed. Padawans undertook a two-year journey to visit each temple before they became full Je’daii. * 25,793 BBY: The Force Wars ** Long-simmering tensions within the Je’daii boiled over, causing planetary imbalance. Ashla and Bogan turning on each other, Force Storms causing planetary upheaval. ** Ratakans (Bogan side) from the Infinite Empire find Tython and the Je'daii, attempting to conquer it. Open war breaks out, upsetting the planet further, but also causing the Je’daii to unite against the Ratakans. ** The Je'daii repel the Ratakans, incurring a rare defeat that foreshadowed the incoming Ratakan plague. * 25,000 BBY: The Force Wars caused the Je'daii to evolve into the Jedi order, replacing their focus on balance in the Force to only focusing on Ashla (the Light side of the Force). ** Realizing a polarized focus of the light side wasn’t compatible with Tython, the Jedi Order relocated to Ossus, leaving Tython behind. * 3954 BBY: Jolee Bindo and Juhani hunt down the coordinates to Tython and set up a Jedi Enclave to raise up new Jedi in the same way the Je’daii had been. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Telos1Arrival or $FriendsOfTheJedi>><img src="Planets/Telos IV.png" class="thumb"><<link "Telos IV">><<replace "#Telos">>Telos IV <img src="Planets/Telos IV.png" class="portrait">With most of its natural surface either decimated by orbital attacks, the Republic uses it as an example of post-war restoration. * 5,000 BBY: Telos IV becomes a member of the Galactic Republic. * 3,690: The Republic built a military base focused on weapons research. * ~3,970: A factory in Telos’ polar regions was built to produce HK-50 droids, based on HK-47. * 3,958: During the Jedi Civil War, Darth Malak, without Darth Revan’s approval, orders Saul Karath, commander of the Sith fleet, to bombard Telos IV. * After the Jedi Civil War: ** Supreme Chancellor Tol Cressa initiated planetary restoration efforts starting with Telos IV. An orbital station is built over the Restoration Zone, calling it Citadel Station. The Ithorians led these efforts. ** The Republic builds a secret war facility for weapons research. * 3956 BBY: Following the destruction of Katarr, Jedi Master Atris created a secret Jedi Academy in the polar regions. Because of her obsession with keeping the Jedi from falling to the Dark Side, Atris only trained six Echani Handmaiden Sisters blind to the Force, also studying Sith holocrons. These actions corrupted Atris over time. * 3951 BBY: Darth Traya launched a trap to deceive Darth Nihlus into believing Atris had a Jedi Academy to feed his undying hunger for life. This brings Nihlus out of hiding. Meetra Surik, Visas Marr, Canderous Ordo and the Republic defeat him. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<if $Dantooine1>><img src="Planets/Dantooine.png" class="thumb"><<link "Dantooine">><<replace "#Dantooine">>Dantooine <img src="Planets/Dantooine.png" class="portrait">A serene, grassy world with rolling plains, scattered ruins, and subterranean crystal caves, hosting significant Jedi events. * 35,000 BBY: Claimed by the The Infinite Empire (Ratakan), their built structures that were reduced to ruins by the time of the Republic. A Star Map was left behind that grew corrupted over time. * 3976 BBY: During & following the Old Sith Wars, a Jedi Enclave was established, serving as the main Jedi training site for its time. It trained many great Jedi - including Revan, Malak, Bastila and Meetra. * 3,962 BBY: Darth Revan and Darth Malak find the corrupted Star Map in the Ratakan ruins * 3956 BBY: ** Revan and Bastila rediscover the corrupted Star Map. This was the first of 5 maps Revan that collectively gave them coordinates of the Star Forge. Some time after Revan’s discovery, Darth Malak bombarded the Jedi Enclave from orbit to hide the location of the Star Forge. The Jedi were made aware of the attack through the Force, allowing some Jedi to escape. This caused a Force Wound in the fallen Enclave. ** Without the protection of the Jedi, Dantooine became self-governed by Khoonda. Attacks by the Exchange were a persistent threat, as well as salvagers raiding the remains of the Jedi Enclave. * 3951 BBY: The remaining Jedi Council reformed (Vrook, Kavar, Zez-Kai Ell) to meet with Meetra Surik, but were quickly undone when Darth Traya killed them by cutting them off from the Force.<</replace>><</link>><</if>> Neutral-Aligned Planets <<if $Manaan1Explore>><img src="Planets/Manaan.png" class="thumb"><<link "Manaan">><<replace "#Manaan">>Manaan <img src="Planets/Manaan.png" class="portrait">The homeworld of the Selkath. A serene, ocean-covered world with no natural landmasses, known for producing kolto. * 36,453 BBY: A Tho Yor visits the planet, taking some inhabitants to Tython. * 30,000-25,200 BBY: The Infinite Empire rule the planet, using the Selkath to create Ratakan temples and the Star Forge. A Star Map is placed on the ocean floor in the Hrakert Rift. * 20,000 BBY: Manaan is rediscovered in the Galaxy, but does not join the Republic * 5,000-3,997 BBY: Manaan’s main export is kolto, a healing liquid found on the ocean floor. Because of kolto’s value, the Selkath enforced the planet’s neutrality. * 3,962 BBY: Darth Revan and Darth Malak find the corrupted Star Map in the Hrakert Rift. * 3,956 BBY: During the Jedi Civil War, the Selkath established stricter laws to protect themselves and kolto. ** Since both the Republic and Sith Empire relied on kolto, this increased tensions on the planet. ** Revan arrived on Manaan and rediscovered the corrupted Star Map. * 3,000 BBY: Kolto supply declined, causing the price to skyrocket. Over time purchasers moved to bacta, causing Manaan’s economy to crash, and Manaan’s galactic significance faded. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> Dark-Aligned Planets <<if $Lehon1>><img src="Planets/Rakata Prime.png" class="thumb"><<link "Rakata Prime">><<replace "#RakataPrime">>Rakata Prime <img src="Planets/Rakata Prime.png" class="portrait"> Known as Rataka Prime, the homeworld of the Rataka and the capital of the Infinite Empire. A remote, storm-wracked tropical planet, shielded by planetary interference and surrounded by a debris-strewn orbital field of crashed ships. * Before 36,453 BBY: ** The native Rataka come into contact with the Kwa, who bestow the knowledge and balance of the Force, as well as sharing their advanced technology. *** Counter to what the Kwa intended, the Rataka pulled their power from the dark side of the Force and took the Kwa technology for themselves. * 35,000-25,200: Lehon is the capital of the Infinite Empire, hosting many technological achievements including the Star Forge. * 25,200 BBY: A Ratakan Civil War, slave insurrections and a deadly plague that stripped the Force from Ratakans caused a sudden collapse of the Infinite Empire. ** The surviving Rataka fled to Lehon, where they would internally fight off barbarism and cannibalism. ** Weapons of mass destruction used by local warlords irrevocably changed the surface of Lehon, breaking the continents into islands. Most Rataka survived underground. * 25,000-3960 BBY: Lehon was lost to the Galaxy as the Republic became the galactic governing body. ** Over time some Ratakan tribes did return to the surface of Lehon, continuing their eternal feuds. The descendents of the Rataka Elders preserved Infinite Empire lore in the Temple of the Ancients. * 3,959 BBY: Darth Revan and Darth Malak arrive on Lehon, lying to the Elders about their intentions. The Elders performed a ritual that gained Revan access to the temple. Revan & Malak accessed the Star Forge, with Revan claimed it for himself, starting the Jedi Civil War. * 3,956 BBY: Revan crash lands on Lehon, encountering the Elders again and proving his true intentions. The Elders performed the ritual again, gaining Revan and his companions access to the temple. After a short confrontation with Bastila (Darth Malak’s new apprentice), Revan turned off the disruptor field and left Lehon. ** A battle shortly ensued between the Republic and the Sith, ending in the Star Forge’s destruction. ** Due to its dark and ancient history, the Republic hid the existence of Lehon to avoid causing a panic in the galaxy, declaring it a historical preserve. <</replace>><</link>><</if>> <<back "Go back">>

Resources Sources I used to various extents for inspiration, basis of information and/or anything in between. Any other source not listed here should be listed in the story somewhere. -Revanchist208 <<link "Star Wars">><<replace "#StarWars">>Star Wars * <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Knights_of_the_Old_Republic_(disambiguation)">Knights of the Old Republic</a> ** <a href="https://store.steampowered.com/app/32370/STAR_WARS_Knights_of_the_Old_Republic/">Original</a> ** <a href="https://store.steampowered.com/app/208580/STAR_WARS_Knights_of_the_Old_Republic_II__The_Sith_Lords/">The Sith Lords</a> *** <a href="https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=485537937">The Sith Lords - Restored Content</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Knights_of_the_Old_Republic_3">Cancelled 3rd Game</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Knights_of_the_Old_Republic_(comic_series)">KotOR Comic Book Series (Dark Horse)</a> *** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Dawn_of_the_Jedi">Dawn of the Jedi</a> *** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Tales_of_the_Jedi_(comic_series)">Tales of the Jedi</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_The_Old_Republic">The Old Republic MMO</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/The_Old_Republic:_Revan">Revan (Book)</a> ** <a href="https://imgur.com/gallery/kotor-i-ii-maps-YcQSgRr">Planet Maps</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Knights_of_the_Old_Republic_(disambiguation)">KotOR Wookiepedia</a> *** The <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jedi_Code#Behind_the_scenes">Jedi</a> & <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Code_of_the_Sith">Sith</a> Code *** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Category:Infinite_Empire_technology">Infinite Empire technology</a> *** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Chronicles_of_the_Old_Republic">Chronicles of the Old Republic</a> * <a href="https://www.starwars.com">Star Wars</a> & <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com">Wookiepedia</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Prequel_trilogy">Prequel</a>, <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Original_trilogy">Original</a> & <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Sequel_trilogy">Sequel</a> Trilogy *** <a href="https://gamerant.com/star-wars-sequel-trilogy-george-lucas-original-plan-book/">George Lucas’ Original Sequel Trilogy ideas</a> *** <a href="https://archive.org/details/dotf_20200426/page/3/mode/2up">Cancelled Episode 9 “Duel of the Fates” script</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Timeline_of_Legends_media">Timeline of SWLegends</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Book_of_Sith">Book of Sith</a> ** <a href="https://www.marvel.com/comics/guides/383/star-wars-returns-to-marvel">Star Wars Comic Book Series (Marvel)</a> *** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Darth_Vader_(2017)">Darth Vader (2017)</a> ** Star Wars Galaxy Map: <a href="http://www.swgalaxymap.com/">Canon</a> / <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/StarWarsEU/comments/117vozx/behold_the_most_detailed_legends_galaxy_map_ever/#lightbox">Legends</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Andor">Andor</a> ** <a href="https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Rogue_Squadron_(series)">Rogue Squadron series</a> <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Fan Work">><<replace "#FanWork">>Fan Work * <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/StarshipPorn/comments/3vo360/star_wars_the_old_republic_ebon_hawk_floor_plan/">Ebon Hawk Layout - Chris P.</a> * <a href="https://sketchfab.com/search?q=kotor&type=models">Sketchfab > KotOR</a> * <a href="https://www.turbosquid.com/3d-models/3d-ebon-hawk-1219571?dd_referrer=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2F">Vertumvind Ebon Hawk</a> * <a href="https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/ebon-hawk-7f7cd2b43ed64a4ba628b1bb5398d838">Lemonaden Ebon Hawk</a> * <a href="https://www.cgtrader.com/3d-models/space/spaceship/hammerhead-class-cruiser-grey">Hammerhead-Class cruiser (9000-HAL)</a> * <a href="https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/star-wars-knights-of-the-old-republic-t3-m4-fea41f8063b5490790767e68f787de11">the_table T3-M4 Model</a> * <a href="https://www.artstation.com/artwork/EvXog4">Victor Alvarez Dantooine Models</a> * <a href="https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/kotor-ii-astromech-t3-m4-a9060d30437d443fac6009c008d9e0ba">Sharpsterman T3-M4 Model</a> * <a href="https://x.com/DeggialNox/status/1250235042896334848">Deggial Nox Republic Soldier</a> * <a href="https://www.artstation.com/artwork/w0gP2O">Jack-2 Ashes of Katar</a> * <a href="https://www.artstation.com/runolite">Val (PlaySide Studios) - KotOR Scenes Reimagining</a> * Cutaways: ** <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/Star_Wars_Maps/comments/ljiu83/hammerhead_corvette_torpedo_variant/">Hammerhead Corvette Torpedo</a> ** <a href="https://www.starwars.com/series/star-wars-rebels/a-princess-on-lothal-concept-art-gallery?">A Princess On Lothal Concept Art</a> * <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@jaw1002">NIHILUS - FALL OF KATARR (Jake Wallis VFX)</a> * <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/kotor/comments/19aysxf/a_simicomplete_list_of_all_hk47_dialog_prefixes/">HK-47 Prefixes (booleanfreud)</a> * <a href="https://www.youtube.com/@EckhartsLadder">EckhartsLadder</a> * Mandalore Language - <a href="http://mandoa.org">mandoa.org</a> / <a href="http://mandocreator.com">mandocreator.com</a> * <a href="https://imgur.com/a/great-jedi-library-on-ossus-reference-images-from-star-wars-old-republic-swtor-EQY8fI8">Swtorista Ossus Temple</a> * <a href="https://deadlystream.com/files/file/2073-quanons-ebon-hawk-interior-upscaled-textures/">Quanon Ebon Hawk Textures Updated</a> * <a href="https://x.com/DeggialNox/status/1703861016025772264">Deggial Nox Republic Soldier Skin</a> <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Other Media">><<replace "#OtherMedia">>Other Media * <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marvel_Comics">Marvel Comics</a> ** <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marvel_Cinematic_Universe">Marvel Cinematic Universe</a> *** Avengers: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avengers:_Infinity_War">Infinity War</a> / <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avengers:_Endgame">Endgame</a> *** <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thunderbolts*">Thunderbolts</a> *** <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/WandaVision">WandaVision</a> *** <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matt_Murdock_(Marvel_Cinematic_Universe)">Daredevil</a> ** <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marvel_Games">Video Games</a> ** Civil War: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_America:_Civil_War">Movie</a> / <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Civil_War_(comics)">Comic</a> * <a href="https://store.steampowered.com/agecheck/app/1328670/">Mass Effect</a> * <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eternal_Sunshine_of_the_Spotless_Mind">Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</a> * <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_the_Mouth_of_Madness">Event Horizon</a> * <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Event_Horizon_(film)">In The Mouth of Madness</a> * <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_(2017_film)">Life (2017 movie)</a> * <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treasure_Planet">Treasure Planet</a> * <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pirates_of_the_Caribbean:_At_World%27s_End">Pirates of the Carribean: At World’s End</a> * <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Matrix_(franchise)">The Matrix</a> <</replace>><</link>> <<link "Everything Else">><<replace "#EverythingElse">>Everything Else * If the pictures I’ve used can’t be reverse <a href="https://images.google.com">Google Images</a> searched, odds are they came from ChatGPT. * <a href="https://www.youtube.com">YouTube</a> ** <a href="">The Philosophy of Kreia: A Critical Examination of Star Wars</a> ** <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCXjXr_99Sw">Unsilent - Retrogaming Let’s Plays (131 Sith/Dark Jedi in the Trayus Academy)</a> ** <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_qpldiUAxk">TheWalkthroughChannel (41 Sith/Dark Jedi in the Star Forge)</a> * <a href="https://chatgpt.com">ChatGPT</a> / <a href="https://openai.com/sora/">Sora</a> * <a href="https://goldenmayediting.com/character-agency/#:~:text=Good%20characters%20have%20agency.,to%20give%20your%20characters%20agency.">GoldenMay’s definition of Agency</a> * <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/sorrow#:~:text=a,sorrow%20they%20could%20not%20marry">The Definition of Sorrow</a> * <a href="https://www.oniri.io/post/how-to-stabilize-a-lucid-dream">How to interact with lucid dreams</a> * <a href="https://workspace.google.com/intl/en-US/products/drive/">Google Drive suite</a> <</replace>><</link>> <<back "Go back">>

HOLONET <<link "Archive Destruction Raises Fears of Coordinated Targeting">><<replace "#Ossus1">>Archive Destruction Raises Fears of Coordinated Targeting OSSUS: A coordinated strike on Ossus has left large portions of its historic archives in ruin, with fires still smoldering across several knowledge vaults. Republic officials confirm significant cultural loss, though attacker casualty figures remain unverified due to disrupted communications. Witnesses describe a sudden, precise assault with no clear warning. “They didn’t come for territory,” one responder said. “They came for what was stored here.” Recovery teams report that multiple data repositories were selectively targeted rather than indiscriminately damaged. Authorities suspect a Sith-aligned remnant, though no group has claimed responsibility. Analysts note the attack’s focus on knowledge rather than infrastructure. “This wasn’t conquest,” one Republic advisor stated. “It was removal.” Efforts to salvage remaining records are ongoing, but officials warn that what was lost may never be fully recovered.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Republic Citizens Ask: Where Are the Jedi?">><<replace "#Coruscant1-1">>Republic Citizens Ask: Where Are the Jedi? CORUSCANT: As unrest grows across multiple systems, public concern is mounting over the absence of the Jedi Order. Once central to galactic stability, the Order’s current role remains unclear following years of fragmentation. “They were peacekeepers. Now we don’t even know if they exist in meaningful numbers,” said Senatorial aide Mal Verin. Reports of isolated Jedi sightings persist, but no centralized leadership has emerged. The Jedi Temple on Coruscant stands unused and vacated, despite it being an important landmark in the Federal District. The Senate has declined to comment on any ongoing coordination. Political observers note that the vacuum has emboldened criminal syndicates and regional militias alike. For many citizens, the question is no longer whether the Jedi will return - but whether they can.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Nutrition Crisis Spurs Survival Diet Trends">><<replace "#Tatooine1">>Nutrition Crisis Spurs Survival Diet Trends TATOOINE: With supply chains strained across the Outer Rim, local communities are adapting to increasingly harsh dietary conditions. Moisture farmers and traders report rising reliance on fungus cultures, synthesized protein gels, and desert-adapted fauna. Health experts warn of long-term deficiencies but acknowledge limited alternatives. “It’s not about balance anymore,” said traveling medic Jessa Raal. “It’s about survival.” Entrepreneurs have begun marketing “efficient ration kits,” claiming to meet daily nutritional needs with minimal water usage. Republic relief shipments remain inconsistent, leaving many systems to fend for themselves as economic disparity widens between Core and Rim worlds.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Chancellor Faces Growing Senate Opposition">><<replace "#Coruscant1-2">>Chancellor Faces Growing Senate Opposition CORUSCANT: Chancellor Tol Cressa is facing increased political pressure following a series of contentious policy decisions, including his relentless pursuit of the fragile Restoration Project to aid war-torn planets. Critics argue his administration has failed to respond fairly to emerging threats beyond the Mid Rim. Opposition leaders are calling for emergency powers to be redistributed among sector governments, citing “paralysis at the center.” Cressa defended his approach during a Senate address, emphasizing stability over reactionary measures. “We will not govern through fear,” he stated. Despite this, his approval ratings continue to decline, and several influential blocs have begun quietly organizing alternative leadership strategies.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Restoration Project Nears Major Sustainability Milestone">><<replace "#Telos1">>Restoration Project Nears Major Sustainability Milestone TELOS IV: Restoration efforts on Telos IV are approaching a significant benchmark, with officials announcing that self-sustaining ecosystem zones may soon operate without external support. The project, long considered a model for planetary recovery, has drawn positive attention from across the Republic. “This proves environmental devastation is not permanent,” said Restoration Zone Director Elara Venn. Critics caution that long-term stability remains uncertain, particularly with increased regional instability. If successful, Telos IV will serve as a template for rehabilitating other damaged worlds, including those affected by past wars.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Republic Knights Defend Financial District">><<replace "#Chandrila1-1">>Republic Knights Defend Financial District CHANDRILA: A rapid response by Republic Knights prevented what authorities describe as a “coordinated economic sabotage attempt” targeting Chandrila’s financial sector. Security forces engaged unidentified attackers attempting to breach central banking archives. No group has claimed responsibility. “Their objective was disruption, not theft,” said Knight Commander Altair Draken. “That suggests something larger. We will continue to search for their leader and bring them to justice.” Markets briefly fluctuated before stabilizing. Investigators are examining whether the incident is connected to broader destabilization efforts across the Republic<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Hutt Expansion Pushes Into Mid Rim">><<replace "#NalHutta1">>Hutt Expansion Pushes Into Mid Rim NAL HUTTA: Hutt cartels are reportedly extending their influence deeper into the Mid Rim, acquiring trade routes and exerting control over smaller systems. Independent traders describe increased taxation and coercion. “You either pay, or you disappear,” said one shipping captain. Republic officials have expressed concern but have yet to commit significant enforcement resources. Analysts suggest the expansion reflects opportunistic consolidation amid weakened central authority.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Voss-Co Promotes Unknown Regions Tourism">><<replace "#Corellia1">>Voss-Co Promotes Unknown Regions Tourism CORELLIA: Voss-Co has launched a campaign offering discounted exploratory tours to the galaxy’s frontier regions, including sectors bordering the Unknown Regions. The company markets the initiative as “safe, guided discovery,” though critics question the timing amid rising instability. “We’re opening doors to the unexplored! This is a great time to get in on this deal.” said a Voss-Co spokesperson. Hyperlane experts warn that uncharted space carries unpredictable risks, particularly with limited Republic oversight.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Serroco Remains Hazard Zone, Decades After The War">><<replace "#Serroco1">>Serroco Remains Hazard Zone, Decades After The War SERROCO: Long after its destruction in the Mandalorian Wars, Serroco continues to pose significant environmental and radiological risks. Survey teams report lingering contamination zones capable of disabling equipment and causing severe biological harm. Despite this, scavengers continue to enter restricted areas in search of salvage. “It’s dangerous, but there’s value out there,” said one independent operator. Authorities have renewed warnings, though enforcement remains limited.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Biotech Firm Releases Skin Modification Cream">><<replace "#Arkania1">>Biotech Firm Releases Skin Modification Cream ARKANIA: Scientists on Arkania have unveiled a cosmetic compound capable of rendering skin semi-transparent or luminescent in multiple colors. The product, marketed as safe for recreational use, has already drawn significant demand among elite clientele. Medical experts remain cautious, citing limited long-term data. “It’s harmless,” claimed lead researcher Dr. Venn Keul. “But perception is always part of innovation.”<</replace>><</link>> <<link "HK Units Linked to Cruiser Theft">><<replace "#Ryloth1">>HK Units Linked to Cruiser Theft RYLOTH: Authorities are investigating reports that a group of HK-series assassin droids commandeered a mid-class cruiser. The vessel vanished shortly after departing a secured docking zone. “This is highly irregular,” said a Republic security analyst. “HK units don’t improvise without purpose.” Officials have not confirmed whether the units were acting under external command or independently.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Mandalorian Activity Observed in Mid Rim">><<replace "#OrdMantell1">>Mandalorian Activity Observed in Mid Rim ORD MANTELL: Mandalorian forces have been sighted establishing a presence near Fort Garnik, raising questions about their intentions. Observers report minimal interaction with local populations, suggesting a deliberate isolation strategy. Republic officials have not issued formal statements. “They’re watching something,” said a local<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Peragus II Salvage Efforts Continue Amid Hazards">><<replace "#Peragus1">>Peragus II Salvage Efforts Continue Amid Hazards PERAGUS II: Salvage operations remain ongoing but are hindered by persistent debris fields from the station’s destruction. Mining guild representatives state that restoring fuel production capacity is still feasible, though timelines remain uncertain. Frequent collisions and unstable asteroid fragments have complicated recovery efforts.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Medical Supply Delays Solicit Concern">><<replace "#Manaan1">>Medical Supply Delays Solicit Concern MANAAN: Shipping irregularities across Manaan have raised concerns among Republic trade monitors, with multiple freighter captains reporting delayed kolto shipments and inconsistent export clearances. Several Outer Rim medical distributors claim shortages have already begun to affect supply chains. Selkath authorities, however, firmly deny any disruption. “Kolto production and export remain stable and within expected parameters,” a spokesperson for the ruling councils stated. “Any perceived delay is due to offworld logistical inefficiencies, not Manaan operations.” Independent analysts remain skeptical, citing a noticeable drop in confirmed deliveries over the past cycle. “When Manaan says nothing is wrong, it usually means something is very controlled,” one trade official remarked.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Future Agricultural Output Increases">><<replace "#Dantooine1">>Future Agricultural Output Increases DANTOOINE: Farming communities on Dantooine report a notable increase in crop yields this season, positioning the world as a growing contributor to Outer Rim food supply. Local cooperatives credit improved irrigation systems and coordinated export agreements. “We’re feeding more systems than ever before,” one farmer said. Analysts note the boost comes at a critical time, as shortages rise elsewhere.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Shipyards Experience Labor Strikes">><<replace "#Kuat1">>Shipyards Experience Labor Strikes KUAT: Major shipyards on Corellia are facing widespread labor strikes, halting or delaying construction across several Republic contracts. Workers cite unsafe conditions and extended production quotas as primary grievances. Industry representatives warn the slowdown could ripple across the galaxy’s already strained trade and defense logistics. “Kuat doesn’t just build ships - it keeps the Republic moving,” one logistics officer stated. Negotiations remain ongoing, though neither side has indicated willingness to concede.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Smuggling Activity Surges Amid Weak Oversight">><<replace "#NarShaddaa1">>Smuggling Activity Surges Amid Weak Oversight NAR SHADDAA: Authorities report a sharp increase in illicit trade routes operating through Nar Shaddaa. Intelligence suggests expanding Hutt-backed networks are capitalizing on reduced enforcement and rising demand for restricted goods. “Cargo is moving faster, quieter, and with fewer questions,” one dockworker admitted. Republic officials warn the surge may further destabilize legitimate markets across the Mid and Outer Rim.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Iziz Tensions Resurface">><<replace "#Onderon1">>Iziz Tensions Resurface ONDERON: Officials on Onderon report escalating unrest in the capital, with protests giving way to coordinated disruptions near key government and trade corridors. Security presence has increased, though officials maintain the situation is “contained.” Witnesses describe growing organization among opposition groups, with some incidents targeting supply routes and communications infrastructure. “It’s not random anymore,” one transport operator noted. “Someone’s directing this.” Analysts warn the unrest may be an early sign of broader systemic strain. “Onderon doesn’t destabilize in isolation,” one Republic observer said. “When it shifts, it usually means something larger is already in motion.”<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Deep-Space Signal Raises Concern">><<replace "#Flashpoint1">>Deep-Space Signal Raises Concern FLASHPOINT: A long-range research array on the station has detected an anomalous deep-space signal of unknown origin. Early analysis describes the transmission as “structured, but inconsistent with known Republic or commercial signatures.” Scientists caution against speculation, though one researcher noted, “It doesn’t repeat cleanly - it feels…reactive.” Further investigation is underway.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Known Fraudster Implicated in New Scheme">><<replace "#Chandrilla1-2">>Known Fraudster Implicated in New Scheme CHANDRILLA: Authorities confirm that Marn 'Gryph' Hierogryph is once again under arrest following evidence of a large-scale financial deception targeting independent traders. Victims claim they were promised “exclusive access” to high-yield trade routes before credits vanished through layered shell accounts. “Honestly, if it sounds like Gryph, it probably is,” one investigator said. His current whereabouts remain unknown.<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Music Festival Draws Massive Crowds Amid Rising Uncertainty">><<replace "#Zeltron1">>Music Festival Draws Massive Crowds Amid Rising Uncertainty ZELTRON: A major music festival is drawing record crowds, featuring headline acts Between Nebulas, Revan’s Heroes, and LiveJump. Organizers describe the event as “a needed release” amid growing galactic unease. The festival, set across multiple coastal venues, has attracted travelers from across the Mid Rim and beyond. “People want something that feels normal again,” one attendee said. Security presence has quietly increased following reports of heightened smuggling activity in nearby systems. While no incidents have been confirmed, officials remain cautious. Despite concerns, performances continue uninterrupted, with attendance exceeding projections. Analysts note that large gatherings like this often reflect broader sentiment. “When people gather like this,” one observer said, “it’s usually because they feel something coming.”<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Tensions Rise Between Diverging Jedi Traditions">><<replace "#Jedha1">>Tensions Rise Between Diverging Jedi Traditions JEDHA: Reports indicate growing tension between multiple Force traditions, including the Baran Do Sages, Jal Shey adherents, Zeison Sha practitioners, and Luka Sene observers. Sources describe philosophical disputes escalating into territorial disagreements near shared meditation and training sites. “They don’t agree on what the Force is—or how it should be used,” one local said. While no open conflict has been confirmed, several groups have reportedly begun withdrawing into isolated enclaves. Analysts warn that fragmentation among Force-sensitive groups could weaken broader efforts at cooperation. “This isn’t just ideological,” one Republic observer noted. “It’s becoming structural.”<</replace>><</link>> <<link "War Refugees Strain Multiple Systems">><<replace "#Galaxy1">>War Refugees Strain Multiple Systems GALAXY: Displacement from the Mandalorian Wars continues to ripple across the galaxy, with refugee populations spread across key systems. Conditions vary widely. On Nar Shaddaa, refugees live in a fragile peace within former Exchange-controlled districts. On Coruscant, many are concentrated in the dangerous Old Galactic Market, where crime and overcrowding persist. Iziz on Onderon faces mounting pressure as Refugee Square becomes a bottleneck of stalled movement and aid delays. Telos IV remains one of the few structured relief efforts, with refugees housed under TSF supervision on Citadel Station, though some describe conditions as tightly controlled. Dantooine has seen more success, integrating displaced populations into agricultural work, boosting food production across nearby systems. More troubling reports emerge from Nal Hutta, where refugees are allegedly being absorbed into Hutt-controlled labor networks, often through coercion or debt. Analysts warn the situation reflects a broader instability. “This isn’t a temporary crisis,” one Republic observer said. “It’s a redistribution of people the galaxy still isn’t prepared to support.”<</replace>><</link>> <<link "Demagol’s Legacy Fuels Dangerous Black Market">><<replace "#OuterRim1">>Demagol’s Legacy Fuels Dangerous Black Market OUTER RIM: Despite being long dead, Demagol remains a persistent threat across the galaxy, as illicit groups continue seeking his lost experiments and scientific records. Republic authorities warn that recovered materials tied to the former Mandalorian scientist have been linked to multiple recent incidents involving biological tampering and unauthorized experimentation. “Demagol’s work was never just theoretical,” one Republic investigator stated. “That’s what makes it dangerous decades later.” Fragments of his research have reportedly surfaced in black markets stretching from the Mid Rim to Hutt-controlled space, often sold to warlords, rogue scientists, or extremist factions seeking unconventional advantages. Several recent raids have resulted in the seizure of partial data logs and experimental devices, though officials believe much of his work remains unaccounted for. The Republic has issued a renewed advisory urging citizens and traders to report or surrender any artifacts connected to Demagol. “Possession of these materials is not only illegal - it’s a direct risk to entire systems,” a spokesperson said.<</replace>><</link>>