An Honoring

[Arda Breaux]

Open to all Jedi and Alliance members only: mingle, remember, and honor those for what they fight for.​

Things were very different now for Arda Breaux, the last time she came face to face with members of the Alliance, she was once just Knight, for others, they probably still recalled her as the padawan who was betrayed by her Master. Now though, she had grown so much in person and the Force, there was still yet something she had to learn to do right: lead. That certainly did not come with a manual and trying to mimic others she found herself sounding artificial. Though in all, there was something she knew how to do best and that was remembering and comforting in times that teetered on a brink of unraveling. Even so, optimistically, things could have been a lot worse, but the attack on Hoth and Bespin shook up many and to add to it all, word from Mon Cala announced it had fallen back into the hands of the Empire. All Rebel operatives were presumed dead and Arda knew that included Jedi padawan Dalo Claxus (@vamp) who had volunteered to aid in anyway he could.

Then there was the attack on Hoth, assumed to be far from the eye of the Empire, the Rebellion had thought wrong and it cost them. Before check-ins were completed, the council believed the body count to be high, but as more and more had returned the call for their safety, as though some will of invention by the Force called it to be. Relief had spread though the Alliance, but they would still remember and celebrate the lives who did perish as they now journeyed into the afterlife, reuniting with old friends and possibly family.

Their sacrifice is for you as hope didn't die with them, it now carries on through us.​

Her word rung in her head as she ruminated over the memorial, trying to relax with others in the mesh hall on Mimban. The rains had returned, the low rumbles of thunder could be heard over the murmurs of the Alliance soldiers, pilots and jedi conversating while they ate and drank, Arda included as she got to know more faces in the Rebellion.

 

[Vas Kodro]

Mon Cala was gone. Seized by the Empire. Vas' home that her father had fought so hard to protect had fallen once again. She could only imagine what her father was thinking this very minute. The man who gave her the skills and the means to fly, who inspired her to fight for the Alliance, who agreed to give his life to the Rebel cause and almost did. He was too badly injured to fight back. He could always relocate, but she knew that he would not give up his home so easily. And neither should she.

Vas thought the news would anger her to the point of outburst. Instead she stood still over the memorial, paralyzed by the thoughts racing through her mind. It seemed like every day she heard news of the Empire's expansion, but she never predicted it would hit so close to home.

She was a fairly new member of the Alliance, but it seemed like she had been a part of it for years. Her father had always said that the Alliance was his family, his brothers and sisters, and Vas took it to heart. Of course her literal family member was a rebel, but she had also gotten to know the members of his fleet and other supporters of the rebellion through him. As she looked at the candles flickering, she thought of each person who gave his or her life for the Alliance as her family, too.

She looked to the memorial not only for remembrance of her home, but also inspiration. As a new member of the Alliance, she looked to the veterans who fought for the rebellion, whose efforts showed what it truly meant to be a rebel. Before her visit to the memorial, she felt alone in her cause, but now she remembered that millions were willing to defend it. And, of course, the many Alliance members who were still alive - Jedi, diplomats, freelancers, pilots, commanders, and so many more - were also a network of support for her. Reassured, Vas exhaled and bowed her head in silence.

 

[Nikka Toren]

Some of those on Hoth, she had known or met.

It was a slap to the face. A break back into the reality of what was wrong with this galaxy; what was so severely out of balance that it cried out across the void of time for the Light. And what use was she? Fighting off on the other side of the Galaxy while far off, their kin and brethren died in the wild icy winds of Hoth... and she had a feeling who had done it.

She had a feeling she knew exactly who had called that order, who had not stayed his hand and pledged mercy. But this was a memorial. A time to remember why she had joined in the first place. A time to give full honors to the dead and their purpose for living. Now was not the time to dwell with grief or such selfish thoughts.

She sat alone, but she seemed at ease, deep in thought. A glass of untouched Gizer ale sat before her, and her head tilted back, just listening. Several emotions ran rampant through here; she hadn't seen so many like her since the tribunal of Valentine Rayth. How long ago that had been... how much had changed.

She needed to be here. Needed to be reminded why exactly she was willing to lay down her life and personal happiness for this cause; why she was called Jedi Knight. Their deaths were not caused by her... but she could have helped them if she had been closer. Healed those near death... grant those dying peace without pain. She knew that this regret would be subdued, tightly controlled and managed, but there it remained.

She had no business here to mourn the dead, when she was powerless to help them. But she was willing to toast to their peace, and find others that had by some miracle of Ashla's graces to survive. It might not have been her fault... but she would amend the damage that the Empire had caused.

One way or another.

But meantime... one hand wrapped around her drink, and silence. If any addressed or hailed her, she would answer, but meantime the Miraluka seemed content to contemplate. She was not in the talking spirit this day.

 

[Hugo Ion]

Standing outside the mess hall was a lone figure. As the rain poured down on his brown hooded raincoat, Hugo Ion struggled to control himself. Recent events had been mostly one tragedy after another. Dammit, dammit, dammit! The Duros Commander thought, bitting his lip and shook all over with visible emotion.

Yes having experienced through war for so long Hugo knew by now there will be defeats and lives sacrificed in the struggle.

Still the latter losses weighed heavily upon his soul. My command, my responsibility. Not since the slaughter of Dantooine so long ago he had been besieged with such sorrow. Thunder roaring in the distance Hugo looked up to the sky letting the raindrops fall on his face. Closing both eyes the rebel leader let out a deep sigh as the cold water from the heavens washed his face.

”Why am I still alive when so many have died?” Commander Ion softy asked as if speaking to an old friend. The sky answered only with further rain. A part of him just wanted to yelled at the top of lungs and go mourn somewhere secluded. Instead Hugo remained where he was and silently battled with the mounting guilt.

Squeezing his hands into fists, the Durosian finally whispered to himself. “Get a grip! Those rebels didn’t give their all for me to wallow in self-pity.” Turning away from the sky Hugo wiped his wet face with one hand and marched toward the entrance with renewed determination. Once it slid opened he proceeded to head for the mess hall.

Keeping the hood on Hugo headed straight for memorial surrounded by a multiple of rebels and a number of Jedi. He can hear the murmurs among them. Choosing to let them be the Alliance head at last stopped in front of the shrine. A moment later Hugo gently removed the hood over the head, revealing himself. His glance was fixated on the candles below and nodded with solemn approval on how it all was rendered.

Calmly with the right hand Hugo Ion saluted the memorial in silent tribute.

 

[Firen]

Firen stepped in out of the rain, shaking someone the water from his fur before noticing a Padawan beside him. He reached a hand up a scratched behind his ear as he let out a nervous chuckle "Sorry about that!" He said as he made his way further in the building and towards the mess hall where people we gathering.

He didn't know anyone who had been lost, but he could still honor them. He could still stand with his family during this hard time.

The Kushiban Padawan entered the mess hall, his fur still a bit wet. It bothered him, he would need to brush it later or it would be a mess. He scanned the room, taking not of who was there. There were still so many he didn't know. Most days he was off somewhere caught up in his training.

He saw Arda but he didn't want to bother her, she was important now. He was sure she has better things to do. He then spotted a woman he recognized, they had traveled together not too long ago. He walked over to the blind woman (@KillaRee) and grunted slightly as he pulled himself up on to the chair. "You doin' okay, friend?" He asked looking up at her blindfolded face.

 

[Quolon Dox]

Quolon is silent as he steps into the mess hall, his robes soggy. His face sombre as he removes his hood. He didn't know anyone who had perished, but he was still going to honour his brothers in arms. This was a defeat, and it could be felt through the mess hall. It still amazed him that there were so many on his side he didn't know. He takes a seat at the back of the room, not wanting to take up any spaces which were being saved for people more familiar with each other.

​

 

[Tycho Draykon]

After paying his respects to the memorial that was put in place. Ending it with a salute. Thoughts raced through his mind as he looked at the memorial for a minute or two. Stepping away so others can pay their respects, nodding his head towards the Commander out of respect as he backed away. The criminal walked over to the bar and got himself a drink.

Not feeling very social, though he will engage in a conversation if one started one with him, he got himself a drink and took a seat at a table at one of the corners of the room. His drink will barely be touched as he looked around at the people who have gathered so far.

 

[Vardon Galland]

Solemnly, Vardon Galland entered the mess hall with heavy steps. He had just recently begun taking a more active part in the conflict and didn't know any of those who had passed, yet his heart still went out for them. While he had been spared from the major battles, others had fought and perished for the cause. He couldn't put a face to those he had come to mourn, but knew that they were much more than just numbers on a paper or an abstract concept - they all had their own stories and qualities which With that, the padawan ventured deeper into the hall and towards the memorial.

After having paid his respects, the Thyferran returned to the larger open areas. After looking out over the room for a short while, it was clear that he didn't know the other attendees. There did, however, seem to be multiple people in the room who didn't bring company which resulted in a few small groups strangers having formed. Picking up a drink, Vardon joined one of the small circles not too far from the entrance. Although he kept relatively silent, it was comforting to hear friendly voices from people whom he viewed as allies and potential friends.

After the initial introduction, the padawan could hardly be described as very engaged in the conversation, merely smiling and nodding along whenever appropriate.

 

[Alysanne Drast]

Nature or nurture, what drove her was a question that Alys had spent many a night pondering the answer to. She had been born into a bloodline that demanded nothing but the very antithesis of everything it meant to be a Jedi. But yet here she was, a Jedi Knight, standing in honor of those who had fallen defending what she had thought was forever lost to Galaxy. Hope.

The Order had suffered many a loss recently, the ranks of the Jedi Council having shrunk significantly, but that had not prevented from those who had but recently joined its ranks to put their lives on the line for what they believed in. And that, more than anything else, filled her heart with hope. Even now, despite the best efforts of the Sith for the better part of half a millennia, people still believed in the power of good to prevail, believed in what was right. Believed in it enough to put their lives on the line for it. That was why she knew that despite how strong the Dark Side got, it would never win. Hope, no matter the forces beating it down, would always prevail.

She didn't walk up to the memorial, she didn't need to. Standing a fair distance from it, she observed those who came in to pay their respects, rebels, Jedi, friends, family. One and all a believer. "There is no death," she whispered softly under her breath as she saw Commander Ion walk up to the memorial, "there is the Force."

The darkness had prevailed for a long time, but she knew now that its time was coming to an end. For as long as there were brave souls willing to put their lives on the line for what they believed in, there was no way the darkness could prevail over the light. She, for one, would fight against it, and she was sure she was not the only one. The very presence of all who had gathered here today told her otherwise. The light, no matter how long it took, would prevail.

 

[Alexei Denkio]

Alexei had shown up, maybe because he felt he owed some of the soldiers something. Maybe he wanted to remind himself he was one of the lucky ones. He wasn't quiet sure, though he did know that alcohol would have solved this feeling long ago. But for some strange reason he couldn't pick up a bottle, which was strange he loved drinking. He couldn't tell if this was himself though or the Force making him feel a certain way. Was that something the Force did or was it just suppose to guide? Maybe he needed to actually spend some time learning more about the Force. There was so much he didn't actually know.


But that wasn't why he was here, it was for those that didn't make it. An that was a heavy feeling trying to be responsible for those that had passed. What he wasn’t really prepared for was how many were going to show up. It was like all the deaths he witness and felt were just a drop in the bucket. Which made the feeling of sorrow hollow and made the wannabe student of the Force depress in thinking how small they all were. Even though what they died for was important they were just going to be names added to a ever growing list.


How long did this war have to be? Alexei wasn’t sure about much but wanting to end this war was definitely one of them. No longer was it solely for his family’s death, now he was driven by the sacrifices of other soldiers with him. He was young and new to this life but he formed bonds with some of the rebels. And he hated seeing them die so pointlessly.


Standing alone Alexei hoped to avoid talking with anyone. He really just needed some time to think about the proposition that Nikka made. An it started to look like he was going to accept the chance to be trained

 

[Larissa Adrastos]

Memorials were a peculiar thing. For some, it was a way to honor those that came before them, those that gave their lives for a cause that was bigger than themselves. For others, it was a way to solidify their own resolution, remembering what they fought for, what they all-had been fighting for. In Larissa's case, it was less of either of these things. Although she was a Jedi Padawan, her distaste for war had led her to take an inactive role in the struggles of her contemporaries. 'Inactive'... that was putting it generously.

Under her breathe, she gently, quietly, sung aloud the old lullaby her mother used to sing to her. The Wreans weren't a nomadic people, but they were almost defined by their curiosity and adventurous spirits, taking them beyond the boundaries of their own world. In fact, some Wreans even went on to become famous explorers, but in the end, they all always came back. Back home. Back to where they belonged. But these ones, here? Those that have passed on? Only one place held them now, but... in a way, the Force calls all that live home. So in her mind, the melody felt appropriate, looking at it in that measure.

"Faith's hand will guide you", Larissa sang weakly, practically in a whisper as she closed her eyes to remember. "Back to the warmth of home..."

 

[Konan Jakath]

It wasn't long after his investigation of the planet Cholganna that he had received the news of the devastating attack on Hoth. As his ship just began to reach the atmosphere levels of Mimban, Konan smiled, reminiscing old times when he was stationed on the Winter planet many years ago as a pilot for the Galactic Alliance. He remembered the old faces of friends as they phased through his mind. He thought many years ago how he couldn't wait to leave the planet, but now he wished he was there in their greatest time of need. As his starship landed outside of the rendezvous point, Konan slipped out of the ship and patted his droid B-C2. "Stay here B2, I'll be back soon." the droid responded with a series of beeps as Konan made his way into the memorial, passing by a few guards.

The hood of his cloak pattered with light drops of rain streaming down before running off his back. Upon entering the Mess Hall, he bent over slightly to accompany his large size through the doorway, continuing his slow pace towards the memorial as he lowered the hood that covered his head. His eyes glazed across the room, not noticing many of the faces. His eyes fell upon @Alexei Denkio, whom he had just recently became acquainted with. He slightly smiled towards his friend and nodded, he was glad he was here. The Togorian made a few strides towards the memorial as he removed something from his pocket, his old pilot badge he had picked up on Hoth during his training. Kneeling down he placed the badge on the memorial, placing his hand on it as he paid his respects, saying a small prayer to himself before taking a few paces back to allow others to pay respects. Konan moved to a more open area in the room where he could comfortably lean against a wall and soak in the recent events that transpired. He would be ready at a moments notice to aid in any way to ensure another incident like Hoth does not happen again.

 

[Nikka Toren]

As her Sight took in others that filtered in, her hand tightened around her glass. She wanted to will herself to pick it up and down its' contents, but her lips refused to part, and her arm refused to really move. She was... at a loss. There was no other way to put it. She was not one to brood over past events, but the effects were all the same. The entire place was subdued, dampened down by the weight of it.

The Empire had struck fast, and hard. They all expected some kind of retaliation, but nothing of that immediate scale. Nothing that prepared them for the amount of loss... But the mood was too heavy, too remorseful. And for what? They had done all they could, taken appropriate measures... there was only so much that they all at one time could do, not limited to fighting and laying down their lives. And the survivors that did seemed to feel guilt over surviving. But Force willing, they were all alive!

So she forced herself to down the contents of her drink, sighing in appreciation of the fine ale... and of the Kushiban Padawan( @Raydo ) that materialized at her elbow. "It's hard..." she spoke softly, giving Firen a faint smile. "It is hard to feel alright when good men and women have lost their lives." Her sightless gaze passed over all of them there, lingering only briefly on Commander Ion (@Minuteman75 ) before continuing.

"It's difficult to justify losing so many, in the face of a battle, of war... of losing companions. Friends." Her voice was soft but grew when she took a deep breath. "To salute them and say they have become one in the Force, though a comfort, can be a cold one. We knew what to expect when we joined the ranks... we are an Alliance that fights for freedom. For hope," she toasted at Arda (@GABA ), "and for justice for so many that have no voice. It's hard to feel alright when we remember those that have fallen in due part to Empire cowards and those without a heart for harmony."

Even though the Jedi could not see the Memorial as others did, even though her vision was limited by biological birthright, her voice rang out, calm and hard. "But we're not gone yet. And this is only the beginning; we will not let their lives be wasted with melancholy. We will always fight for what's right... and celebrate those that cheer us on from the other side, and remember with those that are with us today." Here, she gave a brief nod to Alexei (@Richie B. ) before setting the glass down, and leaning back once more.

She hadn't meant to give a speech, but there it was. She would allow herself to mourn a little bit; she was a healer, a Jedi, and with that all... she was a rebel. But most of all, she couldn't stand the funereal atmosphere; it didn't suit the Alliance.

More than anything, though, she wished her old Master were here for old words of wisdom. He was far more adept than she. But when her drink was refilled, all she would, or even could, do, was take another sip, and listen to the storm, and any other voices around her.

 

[Arda Breaux]

The hall seemed to grow in numbers as many more had arrived to pay their respects and catch up with friends and companions. Though for Arda, there were just as many new faces who joined the cause as there were old faces. She got up and begun to make her way around the hall, a childish eagerness to see those who she had not seen in what felt like ages. She saw Nikka who had been with her on Bespin, on the surface, it looked as though her physical wounds hand healed, but she had yet to know how she was coping spiritually, having not been on Hoth where she felt she needed to be at the time.

She saw Tycho and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as Nikka begun her toast, offering inspiring words as she had raised her glass to the Jedi before returning her attention to the others. Arda turned to Tycho, "Your son is a feisty one, having some teenage angst." she told him with a smirk. Her eyes continued to scan the area before she saw Firen, who would feel her attention on him, she would have to visit with him before the evening was over. She returned her full attention back to Tycho.

"He has a good head though, I think he'll be fine." she explained and took a sip from her drink.

@Nommie @Killa Ree @Raydo