This is the meeting discussed in the Jedi Rebellion interest check. Jedi characters (current and former) are welcome to attend. This is an IC method of dealing with an OOC problem, so trolling it with a bomb or some such nonsense really wouldn't be productive. This is a strictly no-kill thread.
The prologue deals entirely with my characters, Char and Nasiri, and really doesn't have much to do with the Convocation itself. It's them getting ready for it, which I didn't think was entirely necessary and would have drawn too much focus onto them rather than onto the convocation itself if I hadn't spoilered it.
The prologue deals entirely with my characters, Char and Nasiri, and really doesn't have much to do with the Convocation itself. It's them getting ready for it, which I didn't think was entirely necessary and would have drawn too much focus onto them rather than onto the convocation itself if I hadn't spoilered it.
"You look handsome," Nasiri said, smiling up at Char. The big, rough-hewn, bearded man looked slightly uncomfortable, and the clothes were only part of it. His sharp blue eyes softened when they met her too-bright cyan gaze, and he smiled tightly back at her. He wore a charcoal-grey high-collared shirt under a black tunic, light grey pants tucked into his black armorweave boots. He hadn't worn his Jedi garb in a while, and at Nasiri's insistence he'd gotten a haircut and trimmed his beard before they went to the Convocation he'd called. She wanted him to at least look halfway civilized, if not presentable, before stating his case to the Alliance Jedi. Char had no weapons on him save the pair of lightsabers clipped to his belt at the right hip. One was a long-handled weapon with a dark ring-guard around the emitter and a bronzium case wrapped in black krayt-leather. The other 'saber, modeled for the Jedi tradition rather than the Jensaarai as its larger companion was, had a durasteel and plastoid handle. He was artist enough to know the dark and brooding image he presented, which was part of why he wore no robe - no dramatic cloak billowed out behind him, no hood concealed his craggy features. Char stood before a mirror, fidgeting and adjusting his robes like a nervous groom.
"I look ridiculous."
"You look dignified," Nasiri giggled, covering her mouth with her curled-up fingers and smiling with a mischievous gleam in her eye as she tilted her head coyly. She knew he wasn't worried about how he looked, he was worried about speaking in public. He'd have no troubles charging into a battle against impossible odds, but addressing a handful of pacifistic Jedi had him more nervous than a long-tailed felinx in a room full of astro droids. The whole thing struck her as silly, even if she did pick up some of his anxiety as if it were her own - between the two, she couldn't help but giggle.
Char snorted. "I look like a monkey-lizard in a suit."
"Fine, but don't blame the clothes, dear." Nasiri stood up from the bed to join him. The petite redhead was achingly beautiful dressed in her Jedi robes, though Char had to admit he might have been biased on that point. Nasiri was wearing a fine cream-colored robe over a white-and-rose pink tunic and V-necked shirt with a low neckline, her ivory-white pants tucked into slim white nerfskin boots with two-inch heels. She'd curled her hair, done it up into a pair of buns on the sides of her head with a pair of ponytails depending from each in a mass of ringlets. She'd foregone much make-up; with a face like hers, it was overkill anyways. Nasiri wore no lightsaber on the sash cinched around her slim waist, being that she had only achieved the rank of Padawan before leaving the Order, but neither did she wear any other obvious weapon. Nasiri was far from unarmed despite appearances - she had a half-dozen weapons concealed on her person.
Char did not expect the Convocation of Tatooine to end in violence. Nasiri always expected bloodshed.
Char reached into the sleeve of his tunic and produced a small, slim lightsaber with a curved handle - perfectly suited for Makashi, and sized well to Nasiri's dainty hand. His own big paw nearly swallowed the thing whole. He handed it to her, face impassive. "A Jedi should have one of these."
"I - um, thank you," Nasiri said as her face split into a grin, caught off guard but nonetheless pleased. She knew he'd been up to something, but she hadn't expected him to have made a lightsaber for her. While not exactly romantic, it was still very sweet of him - and she knew it meant he still trusted and cared for her despite her activities with the Chiss and her as-yet undiscussed Immortal status. Nasiri liked to be reminded of that, especially when some days she felt so strange and unnaturally altered that she didn't even know who or what she was anymore - and though he didn't say anything, she could feel Char's disquiet about that decision. She closed her fingers around the handle and tested the weight of it, then turned to the side to safely light the blade. A searing-bright pale violet blade emerged, just under a hundred centimeters long and tightly defined.
"Krayt pearl cut into three spheres for a focusing crystal," Char said, "fencing emitter, so it'll have less gyroscope effect - it won't have so much inertia as most lightsabers do. Deadman switch, internal activation mechanism an' two phases 'long with the training setting. The color's from the synthetic adegan lens, otherwise it would'a been blue, pale blue like mine. Couldn't find a crystal right for it, an' I know how you don't like beam gem lenses."
"It's perfect," Nasiri said, giving the blade an experimental twirl. It felt so light, not like the other lightsabers she'd handled that were so stubbornly resistant to movement like a solid weapon thanks to their plasma blades' gyroscopic effect. Even if her strength hadn't been augmented threefold, the weapon would have been light and responsive in her hand. Char even did a good job fitting the handle to her grip, working only from memory - unless he'd taken measurements in her sleep, which she sincerely doubted. Nasiri deactivated the blade and clipped it to her sash. "I s'pose I'll wear it, then," she said as she stood on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
At times like these, when she could feel the confidence, faith, and loyalty radiating off of Char like a blue-white giant in the midst of a dark nebula, she could almost believe she had what it took to become a Jedi Knight.
Almost.
"I look ridiculous."
"You look dignified," Nasiri giggled, covering her mouth with her curled-up fingers and smiling with a mischievous gleam in her eye as she tilted her head coyly. She knew he wasn't worried about how he looked, he was worried about speaking in public. He'd have no troubles charging into a battle against impossible odds, but addressing a handful of pacifistic Jedi had him more nervous than a long-tailed felinx in a room full of astro droids. The whole thing struck her as silly, even if she did pick up some of his anxiety as if it were her own - between the two, she couldn't help but giggle.
Char snorted. "I look like a monkey-lizard in a suit."
"Fine, but don't blame the clothes, dear." Nasiri stood up from the bed to join him. The petite redhead was achingly beautiful dressed in her Jedi robes, though Char had to admit he might have been biased on that point. Nasiri was wearing a fine cream-colored robe over a white-and-rose pink tunic and V-necked shirt with a low neckline, her ivory-white pants tucked into slim white nerfskin boots with two-inch heels. She'd curled her hair, done it up into a pair of buns on the sides of her head with a pair of ponytails depending from each in a mass of ringlets. She'd foregone much make-up; with a face like hers, it was overkill anyways. Nasiri wore no lightsaber on the sash cinched around her slim waist, being that she had only achieved the rank of Padawan before leaving the Order, but neither did she wear any other obvious weapon. Nasiri was far from unarmed despite appearances - she had a half-dozen weapons concealed on her person.
Char did not expect the Convocation of Tatooine to end in violence. Nasiri always expected bloodshed.
Char reached into the sleeve of his tunic and produced a small, slim lightsaber with a curved handle - perfectly suited for Makashi, and sized well to Nasiri's dainty hand. His own big paw nearly swallowed the thing whole. He handed it to her, face impassive. "A Jedi should have one of these."
"I - um, thank you," Nasiri said as her face split into a grin, caught off guard but nonetheless pleased. She knew he'd been up to something, but she hadn't expected him to have made a lightsaber for her. While not exactly romantic, it was still very sweet of him - and she knew it meant he still trusted and cared for her despite her activities with the Chiss and her as-yet undiscussed Immortal status. Nasiri liked to be reminded of that, especially when some days she felt so strange and unnaturally altered that she didn't even know who or what she was anymore - and though he didn't say anything, she could feel Char's disquiet about that decision. She closed her fingers around the handle and tested the weight of it, then turned to the side to safely light the blade. A searing-bright pale violet blade emerged, just under a hundred centimeters long and tightly defined.
"Krayt pearl cut into three spheres for a focusing crystal," Char said, "fencing emitter, so it'll have less gyroscope effect - it won't have so much inertia as most lightsabers do. Deadman switch, internal activation mechanism an' two phases 'long with the training setting. The color's from the synthetic adegan lens, otherwise it would'a been blue, pale blue like mine. Couldn't find a crystal right for it, an' I know how you don't like beam gem lenses."
"It's perfect," Nasiri said, giving the blade an experimental twirl. It felt so light, not like the other lightsabers she'd handled that were so stubbornly resistant to movement like a solid weapon thanks to their plasma blades' gyroscopic effect. Even if her strength hadn't been augmented threefold, the weapon would have been light and responsive in her hand. Char even did a good job fitting the handle to her grip, working only from memory - unless he'd taken measurements in her sleep, which she sincerely doubted. Nasiri deactivated the blade and clipped it to her sash. "I s'pose I'll wear it, then," she said as she stood on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.
At times like these, when she could feel the confidence, faith, and loyalty radiating off of Char like a blue-white giant in the midst of a dark nebula, she could almost believe she had what it took to become a Jedi Knight.
Almost.
The Jedi were gathering in a remote location, an ancient fortress hidden deep in the Dune Sea. So old that none recalled what its origins had been, much of it lay buried in the sands. Still, the structure was sound as only eons-old stone edifices could be, and Char had many fond memories exploring the old place in his childhood skyhopper trips out past civilization's bounds. Nothing larger than a womp rat had been in the main hall since Char was a teenager; it was still and quiet, with a layer of undisturbed dust over everything. Char's two-seater fighter touched down lightly on the perimeter, and the two of them walked in. Char carried a beacon keyed to Jedi codes in his pack, though it wasn't yet active. While the Convocation wasn't precisely secret, it certainly was a tempting target. He was sure that Nasiri's. . . uncertain loyalties would be some topic of discussion, but he trusted her absolutely.
Even if he himself was unsure where her loyalties lied.
"Nice place," Nasiri remarked dryly. "Lively. Good location to revitalize the Jedi Order."
Char chuckled. "Well, it sure ain't Tython."
"True. Very true."
"Somethin's gotta give," Char remarked as he turned his mind towards the list of grievances he planned to address with the small gathering of Jedi. "The Alliance- the Jedi ain't built for bein' soldiers."
Nasiri flashed him a smile, but it was strained. She was, of course, a genetically-enhanced super-soldier - and sometimes a Jedi - even if she looked more like a holovid starlet dressed up like a Jedi than a trained killing machine.
"You know what I mean," Char said with a frown. "They're focusin' on fightin' their war, not on makin' peace."
"They can't let the Sith win," Nasiri said, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "It's not like you can just sweet-talk a dark-sider into turning."
"I'unno, worked with you."
Nasiri smiled at the quip. It was more true than he realized, but she wasn't about to tell him that. Her eyes were distant as she felt the approaching ripples through the Force, each of the minds bearing the deep, resonant signatures of someone attuned to the Force. "They're coming."