The Final Vigil

[Stel Starkiller]

Yin heard the announcement and made his way for the main hall. He got a bit turned around a few times but eventually found his way. By the time he got there numerous Jedi were already there. It seemed as though something very important was happening. The young padawan looked around the large hall and decided to stand someplace where he could hear everything that was going on. Yin walked over to a nearby pillar and leaned against it.

Yin was sure his appearance caught the eyes of many. After all how many people had green skin, silver hair, green eyes, and only three fingers or toes per hand and foot? He was dressed in a grey and silver colored tunic underneath which was a white shirt, a brown belt, brown pants, and orange leg-warmer things. Unlike other Jedi Yin wore no cape or boots.

It was then that the speech was made. Yin listened and had mixed feelings. On one hand he wanted to defend the people but on the other preserving the life of the Order was very important as well. How could he possibly decide something so important? He just stood there, silent, still, and with a lost look in his eyes.

 

[TAC]

Master Novan, dressed in the uniform of a Galactic Alliance Special Forces Captain, listened to the speeches and questions and clamoring from the back of the room. The Jedi Master had been assigned to the Alliance Command Center, where he and his unit would be protecting the building, with Battlemaster Armstrong inside of it. His possessions were onboard his ship, which Knight Vsil would be taking as a part of the evacuation. Infact, he was on his way to ensure preparations were nearing completion at the Command Center when he had received Master Armstrong's request.

He appreciated the other Jedi Master's words. Larik had only met her in passing, and never really on a good note, but he appreciated her sense of duty. It was one he was ignoring, albeit not totally, as he chose to stand with Guhoo and defend Coruscant. Several others spoke up, and Guhoo offered further words of encouragement, but fear was still rampant throughout the ranks. The Jedi could not operate with fear in their hearts. Could not listen to the Force while their minds plaugued them with thoughts of if, but, and why. Larik had learned that he was quite skilled with words, albeit he was sometimes quite forward, having helped orchestrate several deals and alliances for the Galactic Alliance and New Jedi Order.

As the murmur began to rise again, the man made his way to the front. He nodded to Narrah and Loogo as he passed them, as well as any other Jedi who he knew and recognized as he walked carefully past them. He slowly ascended a few stairs to where the two Armstrong twins were standing, immediately below the banister. The Jedi Master smiled at the two, both obviously caught up in their own thoughts as well as concerned with their fellow Jedi. Larik didn't say anything to them, at first, simply smiling as he laid a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Jedi," the man said, first. It was quiet, concentrated, and completely calm and devoid of the fear that could be felt in the room. "Are the guardians of peace and justice throughout the galaxy." His spoke slowly, articulating every word and truly listening to what he was saying.

"Jedi use the Force only for the pursuit of knowledge," he continued, passionate but still quiet emphasis on the word only. "to defend," he then said, "And to protect." In that second line of the code, the Jedi's decisions to stay or flee were justified. As the Jedi Master finished with the words 'to protect,' a young initiate who he had never met spoke along with him.

"Jedi respect all life in the galaxy," he continued, more joining in with the slow and somber, yet powerful, reciting of the code,"in any form it may take." The Jedi Master turned away from the two Armstrongs, his eyebrows raised not in fear but in love for his fellow Jedi.

"Jedi do not rule others," the man continued, he own voice now beginning to be lost as more and more Jedi joined in, "but serve them for the welfare of the galaxy." Each word calm, poised, and specific.

"Jedi seek to improve themselves," he said, his tone changing to reflect the end the final line of the code. "Through knowledge, training, and self-disciple." There was absolute silence at the conclusion of the reciting of the Code, all eyes turned to the three Jedi standing at the front of the group. Master Novan looked over them carefully, quietly.

"There is a lot to consider in your decision making process," the man said, regarding each Jedi's decision to stay or leave. "And no matter what you do, there is both praise and retribution for what you do." Just as he had recited the code, the man spoke in a low and slow voice. It was obvious he meant every word. "I would encourage you all to not announce your decision. It is a personal choice, and one that should not be made because of judgement of those around you."

It was an odd thing the Jedi Master was asking, suggesting, but it would help quiet the growth of fear in the room. "Instead, in these final moments that we are all here together, celebrate. The accomplishments, trials, and memories that we share as members of this Order." He looked around the room, smiling to each of them. "The Force is whispering to each of you, pulling you in the direction you need to go. It is good to recognize that we are guided by it, and what we have accomplished together because of it. If you wish to seek counsel, I would encourage you to speak to a Master about your decision." The man paused then, looking around. It appeared that only Battlemaster Armstrong, Weapons Master Armstrong, Master Daw, and himself were there. "Other than that, find joy together even in this time of trial. Do not fear. For the Force is with us."

The man bowed to the assembled Jedi, and then moved down into the crowd that was already once again beginning to murmur.

Any who wanted to speak to the Jedi Master was free to do so.

 

[Just Matt Now]

"I..I'm fine,"

Loogo could see the lie. The way she spoke, even the way she looked back a him, it was all there in her eyes. Though he would not press the matter, whatever her reason the time was not fit. There was much too much going on to inquire about such deeper emotions, ones that are not yet ready to become told willingly.

"Why thank you Sionann Ione! It is ssuch a great honor, and quite the pleassure to meet you aswell." The Sluissi replied, the wonder he saw in her was very curious. She had great potential, he could feel it, he could sense it. Loogo hoped that she would go with the rest of the Jedi Order and flee, save her talents and potential for the future of the Jedi. Though he knew that it was not his place to try and convince her, nor even ask. He merely hoped.

Sensing his master enter the room, he was surprised that he was this late. Though he knew that there was much going on for Larik, so much that needed to be done before his departure. The previous meeting he and his master had, along with his other padawan, revealed his intentions of staying and fighting. This meting was also where Loogo found out that his own promotion was recognized in the order.

"Thiss is a great man, Masster Novan. Be ssure to lissten young padawan, he has taught me sso much in the passt years."

 

[Sleven]

Caleb was not surprised he had gone unnoticed by those in attendance. He was not here to make a speech or take sides in the final hours of the Order, only to listen and meditate amongst the thoughts and feelings of the collective Jedi conscious. Perhaps within it he could find his own answers, the ones he sought to slake his thirst. He had been hard pressed in these final days of the Alliance and Order to carry out his duties as a Jedi Shadow, giving himself little time to decide his own course of action.

He recalled the day he first joined the ranks of the Jedi, sent by the very Sith who were knocking on the door of the core worlds to kill the members of the Council. But Caleb was never a Sith at heart, self-actualization was his only master, ultimately choosing to follow his own will and learn from the Jedi instead of destroying them. Despite his decision, the Sith were already here in number, and perhaps his decision hadn’t mattered either way.

His past had never stopped him from becoming a proponent of their ideals, something he had found more comfort in than the senseless killing promoted by the Sith. But that was not to say the Jedi were not killers---that was not to say that he was not a killer himself. Perhaps then, neither side had the greater claim to what was “right” when the ending was the same. After years of war everything had become so much about “us” and “them” that many Jedi, including himself, had lost sight of what it meant to be a Jedi. Though this was reflected in their actions, and never their words. No one could truly be the arbiters of justice and morality, not even the Jedi, and it had taken this many lives just to realize such a simple point. Caleb could only hope that for the sake of the Order they would come to realize where they had faltered and build themselves back up stronger than before.

Though many here saw it differently, the Jedi Order was not built to produce soldiers, simply a way of life that did not interfere with the lives of others. Yet interfered they had, and on too many occasions, until they had become a branch of the military itself. Caleb could not fault them entirely for that, he had become a Shadow and a soldier himself all in the pursuit of knowledge. Yet now, here, at the end, he couldn’t help but feel differently about his previous role among the Order. Imperials and Sith alike had died at his hands, and because they had died, countless others had been made to die. Those others he had sworn to defend yet could not, because the war was simply an exchange of blows in a manner of tit-for-tat…

Before he could delve into the matter any further, Caleb shook these thoughts from his mind, thinking to himself that there had been some validity to what many members of the Order had been saying: to decide where he belonged.

Thinking back to his past, he settled in the warmer memories: among the Fallanassi, his teacher, and his first love. That was where Caleb had always felt he had belonged. But it had been taken from him when they had all been killed. There was nothing left for him to go back to, nowhere for him to be at peace…

A vision swept him up in his preoccupied meditative mind. He saw the images of the Fallanassi, or what remained of them. He saw the onslaught of the Sith offensive and what would happen if they were left unguarded. It was the future he saw, a future that perhaps he could change. The cold realities of his duties, what he had been asked to do as a Shadow of the Order nipped at his neck, calling him back to side with his fellow Jedi in a last ditch effort to save the galaxy. But he could not save it for certain, no one could. And perhaps that truth had made his decision for him.

He would stay in touch with the Jedi to what extent he could, taking with him the destinations of the Order, but Caleb had much to do, and it would be a long time until he could be at peace and reunite with the Jedi.

 

[Emerald Iris]

"Why thank you Sionann Ione! It is ssuch a great honor, and quite the pleassure to meet you aswell." His voice was kind and genuine and it helped to relax the unnerved padawan. It was strange, Loogo was a complete stranger to her, only known in name as he was recently knighted, but she felt a bit more of a connection with him than she would of any stranger. Perhaps there was a bond ready to be sparked in the Force, and it was enough to catch her eyes looking deeper into his. She could see it within him, that point, a very faint line, connecting the near-human to the Sluissi.

Loogo may have not picked up on Sionann's more inquisitive look but if he did he did not speak about it just yet as he pointed out his own master to her. "Thiss is a great man, Masster Novan. Be ssure to lissten young padawan, he has taught me sso much in the passt years."

"I....I will k..keep my ears open as best as I can," Her stutter and shyness was showing as she only slightly looked towards to where Master Novan was arriving, the padawan was beginning to pick up on the sheer amount of people around the gathering area and all the speeches being made, all the courage being expressed, and she could feel her voice wanting to join them, but all she could manage was enough for the Sluissi Knight to hear.

"I..I am going, going to stay," She let out with at least some confidence. "Till I am on..on.one of the l..last out. In case anyone is left behind and need, needs a ride out."

 

[Jake]

All the old legends were there, gathered like mourners around the bonfire on which they cremated lost hopes and dying dreams. The people who Orianna had admired and sought to emulate, in those naive days where she thought that maybe with the arrival of adulthood came too the freedom from fear, that with the passage of years and seasons it might be possible to acquire an infallible sense of what and when to do and say in any given situation. The people who Orianna had come to view as friends and family, and who she watched now, assembled like old knights plucked from one of her old fantasy stories, brandishing the blade for one last stand against evil. Tattered gods in threadbare robes, clinging to that last warm spark of belief, the subjects of vibrant dreams full of color that turned to dust once exposed to the harsh daylight of reality, like the yellowed pages of ancient tomes which told their stories.

Above Coruscant, the banished sun traced circles like a mother with a lamp around her sick child's bed, watching over its feverish sleep. Coruscant, however, would not wake up from this nightmare. Not until the Sith had sated their thirst for conquest, drunk deep from the blood-wine they so sought, whet their blades on Jedi flesh and warmed their cannons on the Temple. Everything Orianna had ever known or cherished had come uncoupled from its shoring. She felt lost. She was lost. She was a lamb watching her shepherd be struck down. A ship whose sails had lost their wind and now lie stranded, deep in strange waters.

It was not Orianna's lot to be there for this last battle. Her destiny lie elsewhere; she had left the Core only weeks ago, though even then they had known the war was lost. Now she stood alone in her hostel room on a backwater nestled deep in a far-flung spiral arm, a visitor to an alien part of a galaxy which seemed to be spinning in the wrong direction. It was dark. Outside she was dimly aware of twin ruby moons glaring down at her like a pair of caricatured Sith eyes on a piece of propaganda, sweeping the night for her, stalking those last strays of an Order doomed to extinction.

She was not alone, however. Above the Jedi congregated in flesh and blood stood another crowd. A gallery of ghosts watched with transparent eyes the somber meeting below, perfect statues without expression. Jedi Masters and Jedi Knights, Padawans and Younglings, those brave souls who, scattered across ten thousand light years, stood vigil with their brothers on the eve of their final day. A choir of phantoms. She recognized friends, both safe on worlds far from the conflict and others standing in the temple courtyard, waiting for dawn to break and for fate to run its course. She had not noticed when the tears began to stream down her face but now they carved wet paths down her cheeks. She had never expected to grow so close to people so new to her.

She remembered fishing for koi in the fountains encased within these same walls, now crowded by the bodies of her brethren. The lines in their scales were maps and labyrinths, the genetic codes of the world in its coming, the secret language in which it expressed its beauty through the medium of life. They wriggled in her hands and smelled of moss. Now they were a reminder of things which were gone, and could not be put back. Of a world which, come morning, would cease to be. Perhaps there was strange beauty in that, however. An appreciation for the unmaking of history, for the counterspectacle of lives being undone and these old stone towers crumbling. Like oceans evaporating on a world engulfed by its sun. Continents smoothed into glass beneath orbital bombardment. The silence of a dead thing, of a cemetery. Of new replacing the old, for better or worse.

She remembered, and now she observed as this place of peace and reverie was transformed into a tomb within which were ensepulchered hundreds of lives and more dreams. Hearts steeled for what was to come. Bodies braced for that final descent into the cold embrace of death, but not alone. Never alone.

Orianna cried and turned away, overcome with emotion. One of the holographic specters in the gallery winked and flickered out of existence. With a damp sleeve she dabbed away her tears. She could not spend time grieving on the past, not while there was still a future to protect.

 

[Stel Starkiller]

Yin watched as someone new stepped up to the podium. He didn't recognize this person but that was no surprise, after all Yin had been a loner. If anyone did know him it was just as "that weird green guy". Yin listened as the man at the podium spoke. There was such wisdom in his words and his tone of voice made the words even more convincing. Needless to say it was a very good speech, very charismatic.

Yin started to remember all the time he had spent in the temple. Like most Jedi he had been brought to the temple at a young age. From that time to this there were years of studying, training, and lots of other experiences. Helping people in town, repairing ships and droids for fun, even glancing in on the younglings training. All of these were precious memories that he would carry forever. In a sense no matter what happened Coruscant would live on, through the memories of all who survived.

Yin thought about the speech just made. "Where is the Force guiding me" Yin thought to himself. There were pros and cons to both decisions. We would a master for their input but sadly he did not really know any of the masters and was kind of shy to talk to them. Maybe this was something he needed to decide for himself. Yin started to walk away from the crowd, his eyes still carrying that lost look. Answers were rarely, if ever, handed over on a silver platter, still a hint or piece of advice would be nice.