Tears of the Angels (Jedi Only)

[Brandon Rhea]

Spoiler: Mood Music

[YOUTUBE]KkObnNQCMtM[/YOUTUBE]

This is how it feels to be a Jedi in a state of war.

Your faith is strong and you hold true to the Way. You stand side by side with your brothers in arms, ready to defend life in all its forms. You believe in a legacy 26,000 years old, a legacy born out of the struggles of the conflicts with the dark side yet one that emerged to be the guardians of a great galactic power. While that legacy faded, it returned and became stronger than ever, even now when you carry the torch of the great fire that burns at the heart of all Jedi.

You know those who say that death lurks around all corners. You know that there can be no light without darkness. Yet you also know that there is no death, only the Force. The eyes are the tools of deception and create false images of death, and you’ve learned that death exists only in those in the shroud of the dark side. You’ve heard names like Skywalker, Kenobi, and Yoda, and you know that the body dies but the soul lives on.

But your faith in that waivers. When hundreds of your friends, your brothers and sisters, die in a tidal wave of fire, you pause. You consider the ideas of death. That shroud covers you, even if just momentarily, but you have been trained to let go. You have been trained to resist.

Fear creeps into your heart, but fear is the emotion of those who believe themselves to be prophets. When the future is always in motion, dwelling on it is a dangerous path. You know that this is the path that forged Darth Vader and decades of tyranny. The great masters of the Way have taught you that the future is an image constructed in our minds, but it is unreal because it is not present. The present is real. It is this moment that is alive.

So now you stand here, on Coruscant, before the ruins of the ancient temple destroyed by an act of evil. You take all of your doubts, all of your wavering, and you bury them in the rubble of the once-vaunted fortress you stand in front of.

Your brothers and sisters burned here. You know of the explosion, but you don’t know what followed—and you should pray you never do. The fire burned throughout the night; the temple was destroyed, but not everyone had the luxury of dying in the fireball.

Those who know what happened see it in their minds.

Jedi and surrounding civilians run in a panic. Explosions rock the streets in all corners. Tremors shake throughout the nearby city. Padawans fall to their knees, burned, bloodied, sobbing. A girl wails over her charred father. A youngling wanders through the falling ash, trying to find the master that had raised her like a mother. A Jedi Knight runs from the wreckage, his body set ablaze, collapsing into his final moments. You know the ash falling from the sky is more than just debris.

They shutter the thought. They too are here now, at the ruins, paying their final respects, as are the hundreds already here and the hundreds still arriving. You all seem to be looking over your shoulders, looking for the ones who carried out this horrific act, and yet you know the truth. The truth is that many of the ones who carried out this act, and their forefathers, were just like you.

Once there was only the Jedi, but soon the dark side came like a serpent, and it tempted those it took within its grasp. Ajunta Pall. XoXaan. Karness Muur. Their names belong to history, but their legacies belong to the Sith—your brothers, in a twisted way. You wonder who amongst you now will meet the same destiny, but you quickly burry those thoughts as well. To dwell on them is to invite the dark side into your heart.

This is how it feels to be a Jedi in a state of war, but there are those who aim to change that. Suffering breeds animosity, and animosity leads to anger. You know where anger leads, as do they. These individuals are the new Jedi Council. The new Grand Master. In every great conflict, the Jedi overcame their suffering and emerged victorious. Battles can be lost to darkness, but the great struggles end with the light.

The images emerging from the ruins of the temple show that now. They’re not of suffering or terror, of misery or death. They are of hope and peace, of justice and love. Night has fallen, and the surrounding city has shut down its lights, all waiting to see the sight now.

Hundreds of candles flicker to life—no, thousands, hundreds of thousands; civilians, politicians, and military personnel alike have all gathered to pay their final respects. They line the city streets, illuminating the dim corners of your world, your life as a Jedi. These lights tell you that darkness is not eternal. You know that in the great darkness, the faintest spark can create the greatest light. So it is tonight.

It is not destruction that will define the legacy of the temple’s bombing. It is this, this night, this moment. This one simple act of lighting candles, of lighting a fire, the one thing that forged civilizations so many millennia ago. One lone candle is enough to fight the darkness. This is a symbol of love, and love...love can ignite the stars.

At the head of the group is a man who knows this, a man who understands overcoming failure and struggles better than most. This is Jhon Cordatus. The Grand Master. If he does nothing else in his life, he will ensure that this is never how a Jedi will have to feel again.

No words are spoken. None need to be. The tear slowly sliding down the Grand Master’s cheek, onto a face that shows nothing but love and resolve, says enough.

You are in the hands of something greater. When the candles go out, you are the light.

 

[Dmitri]

Ulquirrivia Scyphodeeiruus Szerzney had the luck of the devil.

She had been posted at Tanaab, but an injury had resulted in her being hospitalized and sent to a medical center on Salecaumi, resulting in her missing out in the tragedy on Tanaab. She was discharged two days before the Empire attacked Salecaumi. Due to issues at the hangar that she volunteered to help extinguish, she had been late to return to the temple on Coruscant where had she not stayed at the hangar would probably have been at the temple when the bomb dentonated.

Whether luck or the will of the Force, Ulquirrivia had narrowly escaped Death's fingers on several occasions. But others hadn't. It was why she stood here now, to mourn those less fortunate.

 

[Brand]

Any mind that is capable of real sorrow is capable of good.

Thus the Jedi stood, congregated on the ruins of the majestic Coruscanti temple. The palace of light had been broken in the past, reconverted for evil, and even withstood the ferocity of the Yuuzhan Vong over a millenium ago. Now a new chapter of reckless hate would be added to the history of the Order as a whole. As Barnabas surveyed the wreckage, though, he felt only the deepest of convictions in his heart.

The Force had not left them, the Force had not forsaken them. He still could feel it surrounding them, still feel it encompassing them, defending from the wall of despair that threatened to assail the Order as a whole. Barnabas' ears picked up the minute sound of quiet sobs and mournful sighs, barely audible blips of emotions that garnered a gateway into the hearts and minds of his fellows. The Jedi were his family, and it was owed to the bulk of the Order that the Masters with their guidance, not forsake the memories of those who needlessly perished here.

Nay, the Jedi would rise from their own ashes. The Sith had come as thieves in the night, striking with cunning and deception. From a Jedi's perspective Barnabas despised the dark siders, but as a general he had to admire the gutsy nature of this attack. The fanatical devotion their followers had to the cause was something to be noted if not feared. Unorganized and frenzied had been the first response to the Sith attack. Councilor upon councilor had fallen to the wayside, unable to handle the rigors of leadership. Now a new mantle had been passed down to the Masters of the Order by a mainstay within the upper echelons of the Alliance as Jhon Cordatus stepped into his own.

There was no turning back now; the die had been cast, and the Sith had stepped over the line. The time for pacifism was passed, and now the Jedi were poised to fight back as one unified body.

Raising his voice, Barnabas' deep boom projected over the wartorn field, reciting the impassioned timeless adage that bound the Jedi together.

"There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no chaos; there is harmony.
There is no death... there is the Force."

 

[Crim]

Urufu Nekkare was buried under the rubble. It felt like his back was on fire. He couldn't feel his right arm. Hell, he couldn't move his right arm. Everything was pitch-black, but he heard voices. His ears were packed with parts of a wall that had been destroyed during the bombardment... and the Padawan he had been sparring with before the attack.

Something in his head didn't quite feel right. Something wasn't clicking. He knew something was missing. Urufu had been buried for days now. No food or water. This was the first time he woke up since the attack. He used his left arm to move part of the wall. He tapped on what little Force he could concentrate on and moved the rubble. As air hit his left arm, he felt a sudden stinging.

Urufu slowly opened his eyes and took a breath. To breathe was strained. His right lung had completely collapsed. His snout was broken. As he opened his eyes, he noticed intense pain, but he couldn't see. He just needed to get the hell out. He was pinned at the right arm and his knees. The thing on his arm was too big to lift. It was a multi-story column. It had plowed through some stories before hitting Urufu.

Urufu panicked and pulled his arm back. Nothing. He pulled again and heard a loud snap and felt blinding pain in his right arm. He twisted the trapped part of his right arm before, finally, meat and tendons snapped and Urufu fell over. Urufu opened his eyes again. He could see out of the left eye, but not the right. The fur on his left arm was gone and the flesh was a pale green, especially near the wounds. Noticing his surroundings, he was on the edge of a rubble-filled crater. The Temple was gone.

Urufu didn't have the strength to pull his legs off. He was already bleeding out from when he tore his arm off just a minute ago. He ripped his top robe off and wrapped it around the stump. He needed help. He tried to call out for help, but it was just too painful. All that came out was a low moan. He tried again, making a somewhat louder noise, but not enough for anyone to notice. If the Force was with Urufu, someone would find him...

 

[Kuran]

Dain stood, gathered amongst the huge crowd that had turned out. His hood was pulled over his head, which was bowed, obscuring his face.

Even for a Padawan, the feelings here could be felt plain as day. Pain, death, anger, fear... He knew that he wanted to be a part of the Jedi way, to ensure that something like this never happened again.

He raised his candle, one among thousands. A voice in the crowd, with which he joined in, intoning the code that every Jedi lived by.


"There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no chaos; there is harmony.
There is no death... there is the Force."

 

[Master Maverick]

Akacen had arrived days after the incident; he couldn't bare to see his old home, and the iconic Temple of the Jedi destroyed, especially knowing how it was destroyed. He still didn't know who did it, but he had heard it was someone from within, in a way. He was on the verge of fury, but finally came to terms with it and got a grip on himself. He would seek out Grand Master Cordatus and ask. He made it a mission of sorts.

No tears or water would touch his eyes. The crying had already been done. However, seeing this place in person was nothing like over a holoprojector. It was so real. Sadness griped his heart and stifled his breathing. His chest seemed to have a weight upon it that he couldn't, and wouldn't lift. This was a lesson to him, to all Jedi at their inaction and naivete that the Sith were beyond doing something of this nature.

He had hope though. That is what kept him from falling.

His mind was empty as he took in the scene around him when a whimper, barely audible, was heard at the edge of his mind. His senses immediately stretched out as he searched for someone who might be a survivor. This would take several moments, and common sense told him all those alive had already been rescued. His heart, however, told him to not give up, and he wouldn't.

He took several steps forward, zig-zagging as he searched, his mind racing. Finally, he felt a blip, a tiny indication of life. It was fading fast, but he had a lock. He traversed the rubble with some difficulty, the Jedi around him looking on in curiosity, but also ready to help should he find someone. He went several meters in until he finally came upon the spot. He saw a furry arm, and it moved! Quickly he cleared his mind and started to move the debris off of the Shistavanen both physically and with telekinesis. He worked rather quickly, but the column that had effectively pinned his ar... legs.

His eyes were wide at this sight, this Jedi had tried to pull himself out and was now without an arm! He didn't know enough about healing to reattach an arm! "Help!" he yelled, and through the force he did so as well, calling nearby Jedi to help pull the column off as he kept the man alive.

Akacen placed a hand on his arm, around it light permeated within him. All he tried to do was soothe his pain and keep him conscious. He knew enough that, in his current condition, if he lost consciousness, the chance of him waking up again was slim.

Soon enough others arrived and worked at lifting the pillar. Akacen concentrated hard, along with another Knight, to keep the crushed Jedi alive, and try to save his legs from being useless as the weight was lifted. When it was off, others worked at trying to save his arm as well. However, he would need to be brought to the Sage Halls to be properly treated, but they didn't have the time. He knew the Grand Master was here, and he told those around him to go get them.

"Someone find the Grand Master and the Sage Master. We need them now!" He himself would stay and tend to what he could.

He would then hear the Old Code of the Jedi being recited. He followed along, but more in such a way as to tell the fading Jedi before him to remind him of it; to give him hope.

___________________________________________________

Master Ayva Starfall as silently mourning the passing of all those that had perished in the cowardly attack by the Sith. It disgusted her, but willed her to action. She would work to avenge those fallen.

The mourning, sadness and despair around her threatened to cloud her mind, but if she wasn't a master at anything else, she was a master over her own mind. Indeed, she had to or she would have fallen long ago.

She noticed a rushing feeling, but it was far off and she sensed it was under control. She could come to the conclusion that a survivor had been found and was being helped. There was a natural urge for her to help, but then she heard the recitation of the Code of the Jedi of the Old Republic. She didn't recite it audibly, but in her mind; feeling the Code within her as the others around her did as well as they fell into the rhythm of whomever started the chant.

At the end of this, "There is no Death, there is the Force", she used her intermediate knowledge of Force Light to exude the Light into those present. It would be sent in waves, pulsing from her being. She would work to cleanse the site of any residual darkness that might linger in this place. Her head would be bowed, and her body would glow from within, her dress magnifying the light that pulsed from her.

This was her contribution to the gathering, and she was content with that knowledge.

__________________________________________________

The newly appointed Lore Master of the New Jedi Order stood with the others. She would be relatively unnoticed as not many knew her face, being that she spent practically all her time in the extensive Archives of the Temple on Tython. However, more time in the restricted section than anywhere else, as of late.

She recited the Code almost silently with the others. When the pulsing of the light flowed through her, she matched it with her own knowledge of the skill, getting into the rhythm that was set by the Jedi who started it. It was uplifting to see the coming together of the Jedi. It was long overdue, and it was even more unfortunate that this happened after such a tragedy. However, history quite regularly repeated itself, and this was eerily similar to many times throughout history; one side thrust into action after such an occurance.

It was almost unfortunate that the Jedi wouldn't realize such a thing as this. Indeed, it seemed quite obvious to her that this was going to happen. The Sith didn't want to take over without a fight. They wanted a challenge.

Well, now they had one. They had better be ready, or they would be in for a rude awakening.

 

[Black Noise]

Mira Albion stood silently, watching the funeral procession and pyres burning slowly. She had been on Coruscant when the bombing happened, but not inside the temple. It was her first time ever visiting the great place she had heard so much about, she had been standing outside, admiring the greatness of the structure. Then it happened.

Mira's fist clenched as she fought back tears, she could remember it all. The pain, the suffering, the agony of watching it all fall apart. It seemed to her as if the Jedi themselves had come crashing down. She hadn't even been a Jedi for a year, and already all she knew was falling apart.

Well, not truly. She glanced around, seeing all the Jedi around her. They're emotions were strong, their wills were iron. The Sith had not broken the Jedi, they had made them stronger. Through pain, strength is acquired. The Jedi truly had received more pain than they had felt in almost a thousand years.

But they were not broken, they were not fallen. They would rise, they would destroy those that threatened them. Peace would prevail. Mira believed that peace would come, she had to believe it. She didn't know what else there was to believe.

She joined in, raising her candle and reciting the code they lived by, a code she had scarcely memorized but a few months ago.
"There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no chaos; there is harmony.
There is no death... there is the Force."

 

[Cailst]

Znayae stood there in reverent silence. He had been studying the force for the last few months, holed up in remote mountain retreats. His mind had expanded to more fully comprehend and understand the force. Perhaps, he was a wiser Jedi than before.

But now, he had heard of the devastating defeats suffered by the Jedi. The cruel Sith had defeated them in several battles and destroyed the temple. Now, it lay in shambles, in ruins. One day, it would be rebuilt but for the moment, mourning with his fellow Jedi felt to be the respectful thing to do. However, he felt something niggling in his soul. Something, like a cry in the force.

Listening with greater intensity, he began to identify the source, another Jedi, calling for help. As he listened, he gained greater perception of where the Jedi was and what his situation was. Trapped in rubble, he appeared to be. Znayae took off towards the cry.

Fortunately, the Jedi seemed to have some help. An arm was trapped by rubble as other Jedi began to fish him out. Znayae held up a pillar to allow escape though the arm seemed to be unattached to the rest of the body. He then let the pillar down when the arm was recovered and the other Jedi began helping him to remain conscious and to ease the pain.

Znayae did have some experience with medicine and anatomy. Fortunately, the injured Jedi was similar to humans so his experience was rather helpful. Initially, Znayae laid hands on the injured one. He then reached out with the force to begin the healing process. The force seemed to respond to him and began the process of healing. Cells in the integument began moving into their precise spots. Scar tissue began reforming where bleeding was intense. Cartilage began forming where it would be of aid when reattaching bones. With a little bit of force perception and telekinesis, he began moving the origins and insertions of muscles to their correct spots. Certainly, it would be an improvement but much more was to be done to fix the poor injured Jedi.

 

[DeathToll]

His arms folded over that armor cold; no angel, no tears. His white hair fluttered, the thick black of armor weave swaying by the wind; yet no feet were planted as firm. From atop of this landing platform, overlooking the aftermath from on high, he stood ...where many would never again. His face mirrored the etchings of their end. What they saw in the remains of their Jedi Temple, bled out from his countenaince; nothing.

Should the plentiful loose much, loose not, as the lacking loose little, loose all... Who then has lost the greater?

"They live emotion, grasp ignorance. They welcome passion. They harbor chaos... "

Zsaekriel Dtoahfre'Vuun stood alone, not but an empty vessel behind him; the ship to take him to his new home, temporary. His skin, hardened by wound, his mind, disciplined by the evil it face, and his feet, steady with duty; as he would set before his path without end. As their whispers joined together in the distant space of that heaven which could never be attained, he whispered ...against the wind.

"Let their ambition, as oceans' tides, crash against the coasts of mountains' resistance. And there they shall find the Sith's enjoyment of their own failure..."

Zsaekriel would not suffer the Sith, not ever, not after this. He'd come here, looking on at what the Jedi had lost, what he'd come to bear with them, at what his people had lost, to take in what need be remembered. It was another scar, a strip of skin to hang them with. He was heading in the right direction, the Light. For by the Jedi he would find absolution.

 

[Crim]

As other people came to help Urufu, he laid his weary head back. He couldn't say 'Thank you.' Even lip-reading a Shistavenen was difficult. Urufu simply looked at the the Jedi and tried to 'say' thank you the best he could. The black fringes on the sides of his right eye began to close, but his left eye could still focus. It was blurry and his cornea was probably scratched to hell, but he could see a bit.

Looking at his left arm, he noticed burns all over it. He looked down at his chest and saw part of his robe melted onto his skin. Trying to remove it from the skin resulted in pain, so he left it, but not without noticing patches of hair missing where his hand had been. He wondered what could have happened. A thumping sound in his head began, but he ignored it.

A Jedi recovered his crushed arm. The arm wasn't just missing, the bones had been crushed. The Jedi began to mend the arm back to Urufu, demonstrating masterful healing techniques. There would need to be some prosthetics in it, but he may be able to keep the arm.

The pounding in his head increased. By now, he was completely blind in his right eye. As rubble was cleared off of him, he could move a bit. His back was raw and he smelled a horrible odor as his back moved from the wall. Craning his neck to see, he saw a figure that looked like him burned into the wall. Melted flesh and hair stuck to the wall.

The thumping in his head grew louder and more painful as he examined himself more. He wanted to let go and become one with the Force, but he knew there was more for him to do. He began to hear Jedi in the distance chant the Jedi code. Urufu strained himself to speak, but he spoke the Jedi Code.

"There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no chaos; there is harmony.
There is no death... there is the Force."

With the last line, the pounding grew louder until something snapped...

 

[Jax Vos]

Qyv Xinn stood with the others. Though he had not agreed with many of the Council members now dead he would honor them as fellow Jedi.

After Qyv had been taken to a planet in Alliance space by Lamia he'd found a tranport he could use to take himself and his new born son, who's eye color he had disguised using the Force, to Coruscant. Once there he found out about the Jedi Temple and all who had died.

________________________________

Kaeri Vanay looked at those around her all were solumn in appearance. Kaeri had not really known anyone who had been killed but she had met the Council members. She now knew there was no longer any time for passifism. The time for war was now.

 

[GABA]

((Late, I know. I have a legit excuse.))

Ebberla's hood covered her face, protecting her facial wound from the Saleucami battle of the ash that still floated in the air. The newly appointed Sage Master stood in mourning before what used to stand one of the greatest symbols of peace, the Jedi Temple. Now what stood was a scar. A breeze blew through the beings around her and the Jedi raised her hand to cover the fire of her candle from being extinguished. Others did the same around her, protecting their light, even though they knew it could simply be relight with a lighter or a match, they instinctively took the effort to protect their flicker of flame.

It was amazing to how much a flicker of light can do; if one can spark hope, just think what millions, billions, and trillions could do, it was limitless. Light was limitless.

The Sage Master felt the crowd grow as people came from all over to pay their respects and show their support. To mourn for any and all who perished in the bombing, young and old, Jedi, non-Jedi. Grief, it was an unavoidable emotion, not something really anyone can overcome, except for cope. How would the Jedi cope with this loss? They would need to be strong and have patience. The Jedi would pick themselves up, because glory doesn't come from never falling, its when one is able to stand back up after their fall.

The Sith have pushed the Jedi down, but they will come back up, stronger, wiser, their confidence unbroken.