They may win the battles...

[Drin Kizael]

:: Drin Kizael sat in his smoke filled private quarters, his eyes closed and his nostrils taking in the wafting incense. The Jedi's breath came in measured rhythm as he meditated on the full circle that his life had travelled. His orange fur rippled as memories flashed between heartbeats.

The young felinoid stood proud the day Morrja Djreeshan brought him before the Council. The proud Trianii smiled broadly as he sparred with Qui-Gon's new apprentice. The Jedi Knight roared a battle cry as he waded through his enemies in the Clone Wars. The warrior growled in defiance as Vader raised his flashing red lightsabre over him ...

The Ranger rallied his people behind him as the Espos charged. The Master wept over Jitarn's body. The prodigal stared blankly over the site of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Pride swelled in the teacher as his padawan stood before the Council.

A red lightsaber flashed before him, crashing into a blur of sunset gold. Green eyes filled with rage glared at him, inches away, as they locked in a deathgrip.

:: Kizael snapped his eyes open and reeled back to full alertness with a sudden jolt. He shuddered, bracing himself against an icy chill. The room remained silent save for his own labored breathing.

[JediJabroni]

OOC: This story is set several weeks after the conclusion of Taste of Vengeance (http://pub2.ezboard.com/fswvstitanicstarwarsroleplayingarchive.showMessage ?topicID=2371.topic). The RP is closed to the invite list. I'll be in touch.

[Roker]

:: The whine of the shuttle's repulsorlifts filled the air, sending a hoard of servicemen and droids scurrying onto the tarmac. The small ship touched down in a textbook landing, soon dropping its ramp.

:: A lone Bimm marched out in a huff, shouldering a plastine case with exaggerated effort. "Could that ride have been any bumpier? Go back up, I think you missed some turbulence." Once his feet were off the ramp though, his mood brightened. "Ground! Oh blessed terra-firma." With a dramatic wave of his tiny arms, all 112 centimeters of him fell into a low bow.

:: Roker Simiras shot up with a contorted expression etched across his face. "Ew. What kind of landing pad is this? And what's that smell? ... Hey you!"

:: A bewildered human in padawan robes stopped and turned, his expression asking the obvious. "Yeah, you!" Roker confirmed. "Where's Drin?" The two exchanged befuddled looks for a few moments, then the Bimm finally broke the silence. "Drin ... Drin Kizael. Doesn't he run this place?"

:: The padawan narrowed his eyes in genuine confusion at the little sentient. "Master Kizael is most likely in his quarters. He li--"

:: Roker started marching toward the temple as if instructed to. "Thanks, kid. I'll find him." Several wrong turns and dizzying exchanges later, he stood in front of Kizael's door. The disappointement he was feeling at having not bumpbed into Princess Leia faded as he reached up and punched the door signal.

[Boaz Karno]

OOC: What!!! No invite for me?

Is thoroughly offended

[Drin Kizael]

:: Kizael stared off into space for several minutes after the vision had ended. Silence reigned for what almost felt like hours, interrupted at last by the door chime. Kizael rose to his feet, extinguishing a candle with his tail as he approached the door.

:: With a tap of the control pad, the door slid open. The 2.1 meter Trianii knew to look down as he sensed his visitor on the other side even before he got there. He smiled broadly. "Roker! Welcome to Dagobah."

:: Roker just twisted his lips around in a sarcastic expression. "This planet sucks, Drin. I know you guys are supposed to be all holy and like that, but come on." He was already halfway into the room when he turned around.

:: Kizael just sighed and smiled it off, as he had learned to do years ago. "It's good to see you too, my friend."

:: The two spent little time talking about the trip in, as well. Having glossed over the smalltalk, Drin indicated the case at Roker's feet. "You were able to get it?" It was more a statement than a question, but left an air of caution.

:: Roker smirked. "Drin ... you wound me. Of course I got it. But I'm glad to get rid of it. It does a lot more good in your hands anyway." Kizael reached down and slowly picked up the plastine container, opening it when it was in his lap. At that, Roker piped up. "Hey you got a mess hall in this place?"

:: Kizael nodded, but did not look up. "Though I cannot vouch for how well it will suit your pallet. Left out the door, down the hall past three intersections, turn right."

:: Roker hopped off a chair in the spartan room and hustled out. Silence returned after the whoosh of the door closing behind him.

[JediJabroni]

OOC: Another note. A number of things are going to be happening in this thread that may raise some eyebrows. I'm stating for the record that the plot that will be playing out in this thread is pre-planned and has met with the approval of all parties involved. Without giving anything away, I can say that the events that will follow has the blessing of the co-leader of the TSE and both moderators of the board.

[Drin Kizael]

:: Kizael sat hunched over the datalink in his quarters. The green light of the holographic display illuminated his face in the otherwise darkened room. His features were set in an expression of concern overriding a miriad of other emotions running through his mind. As he read the scrolling data, his frown depened.

:: After a long time of rereading the same information, he tapped the display off and leaned back in the darkness. The Jedi took a deep breath, mulling over all the possible courses of action in his mind, unable to escape but one. He lost track of how long he had been staring at the wall when Roker finally returned.

:: With his reverie finally broken, he rose and activated the glowpanels for his hesitant friend. "I'll be back when I can. Make yourself at home." And with that, he retreated outside and disappeared down the hall.

:: He knew what had to be done, but feared with every rational cell in his mind the events that he might be setting into motion. Though he feared how they would unfold by his inaction far worse. He cursed himself for his lack of faith in the New Order he found himself in, then clenched his jaw in memory of the vow that brought him here in the first place.

:: Reminding himself that this was not the galaxy he once knew only strengthened his resolve. Drin Kizael stretched out through the Force in search of the only sentient on this planet he dared hope would understand.

[Nupraptor]

His long robes billowing out in the slight breeze as he walked, Nupraptor tried to pick up his already hurried pace. He was already late for the Council meeting, and there was a veritable ton of work that needed to get done. Even as he walked forward, his attention was focused on the datapad he held in his palm, busily working away on something.

It took him a moment to realize that he had arrived at the meeting room, and so he tucked away the datapd into one of the pockets hidden within the robes he wore. Trying to appear a bit more presentable, Nupraptor lifted both hands, lightly grasping either side of his hood and pulling it back from his face. He bit his lower lip in a nervous fashion, pushing the call button next to the door. Within a scant few moments, door slid open to greet him. Inside he could see that things were well under way. He strode in casually, and the door slid shut once again.

[Drin Kizael]

:: Drin Kizael stood quietly at the end of the wide corridor outside Council chambers for some time. His patience was finally rewarded when the double doors swished open, followed by various high ranking Jedi filing out. His eyes tracked on one in particular as he turned his direction.

:: The Jedi nodded as the cloaked figure approached. "Master Nupraptor. A moment of your time, please," he said as he moved to match pace down a side hallway.

:: Nupraptor regarded Drin hesitantly, sensing the felinoid's own guarded demeanor. "No need to be so formal, Kizael. I'm not your teacher."

:: Kizael almost chuckled. "No, but you are a member of the Council. I need to speak to you in private."

:: Those words were the last spoken for several meters before Nupraptor responded, "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

[Drin Kizael]

:: Within the privacy of his quarters, Nupraptor sat in silence long after Kizael had finished relaying his news and his plan. A glimmer of light caught off his red eye as the Jedi Master turned away in contemplation. "Why are you telling me all this?" he asked simply.

:: Drin braced himself. "Because at least someone on the Council needs to know. I dare not risk a mission on this scale without consent as long as I value my place in the Order. But at the same time, I cannot turn this into a crusade by announcing it to the entire Council."

:: Nupraptor remained facing the darkness. "Why me, then?"

:: Drin paused, not expecting that question. "I have only been among you a short time. For all intents and purposes, I am an outsider. My ways are not those of this new generation of Jedi. My actions may be seen as those of a renegade. But if anyone would understand, it is you. With all our heated debates, I know we are not all that different."

:: The Trianii stood, taking a deep breath. "I've heard you speak in Council and to your padawans. You recognize the corruption of the Force." At that Nupratpor turned his head, ever so slightly. Kizael allowed the words to hang for another heartbeat.

Kizael: "It is more than just an educated theory. It is, in fact, why I returned from self-imposed exile to be a Jedi once more. You know you cannot say it openly, but it's there. How many have we lost to the dark side? How many who stay can even hope to shed their aggressive behaviour? They preach peace and justice while being first to draw their lightsabres."

Kizael: "The galaxy runs rampant with evil and chaos. The remnants of the Empire sit literally in the New Republic's back yard. Far worse are the petty, self-styled warlords gobbling up star systems in droves. Men who are so militarily incompetent they can't even shine Garm Bel Iblis's boots ... hold dozens of planets in their grip. And with resources Palpatine never imagined in his wildest dreams."

Kizael: "And then there are the scores of Dark Jedi who call themselves Sith. With your knowledge of the ancient texts you know as well as I do that the vast majority of them don't really practice the black faith. Yet that small comfort does not change the reality the dark side is more powerful than it has been in 4 millennia. How is it that such an overwhelming number of beings wield the dark side so effectively? Some with virually no training."

:: At this point, Drin paused, realizing his proposal was turning into a soliloquy. "We are in a perpetual state of war. At this point, more battles, more death, no matter how justified, or how much the New Republic will claim they can afford it, will only add to the chaos. Even if we win in that type of conflict, the dark side of the Force will be laughing at us. The corruption will grow."

:: Kizael turned his head to meet Nupraptor's gaze. "I am coming to you because if the dren hits the exhaust port, I'll need all the help I can get."

[Drin Kizael]

OOC: Due to recent stupidity on our SWFans sister forum, this thread is on temporary hold until we can figure out the state of the Jedi and TSE. I may be editing my last post and rewriting the story somewhat. Nup: Wait on your reply till I sort things out. Thanks.

[Drin Kizael]

OOC: Okay the original script has been thrown in the recycler due to the major shakeup to the Jedi Order that I cannot ignore. But I do have some things I want to RP out. Game on.

[Nupraptor]

As was usual for him, Nupraptor's face remained an emotionless mask as the Trianii continued on with his monologue. Really, Drin didn't need to explain his reasoning to him: most of it, Nupraptor could guess for himself.

"Drin, you must understand that what you speak of would cause an uproar if you were to..."

He paused, considering his words.

"Yes, yes... of course you do. That's why you came to me. You have been keeping an eye on this for some time now, I'd wager. And I'm sad to say that it is far worse than you've detailed for me. I don't know if you were making an attempt to spare me the unpleasentries, but there are some things which I am certain that you are not aware of."

Drin arched one furry eyebrow at those words, motioning for Nupraptor to continue.

"There have been several... discussions, shall we say, that are leading me to doubt the strength of the Greater Jedi Order as a whole. Now, I know that you don't share my same faith in pure logic and reasoning, but some of the GJO's recent actions have been downright irrational. The Jedi are begining to stray too far off the path.

In fact, and you must keep this to yourself, I have been hearing disturbing rumors of underground organizations that we aren't even aware of. Those devoted to the Dark Side, but that are not Sith. The balance of power is slipping away, my friend, and something must be done. I commend you for your bravery in taking the step forward to do what must be done."

"However, I will say this much: I do not want to lose one such as yourself on a suicide mission. Do not be so foolish as to try and accomplish what cannot be done."

Nupraptor raised one hand, extending his index finger and pointing to his red eye. With a slight whirr, it turned to focus more clearly on Kizael.

"I will have my eye on you..."

[Drin Kizael]

:: Kizael grinned slyly. For such a dark human he possessed a singular wit. "I would ask that you see to my padawan's training while I am gone. He needs to hone his telepathic skills, and that would be better served by another human mind to guide him."

:: The Trianii looked out the door, considering something. "If you don't hear from me in 2 weeks, start to worry. But don't say anything until it's gone 3 ... or you hear of any news."

:: At that he looked back and smirked. "But don't worry, my friend. I did not come this far to throw my life away just yet. I will see you when I return." This time he walked away, his cape drifting behind him through the door.

*****

:: Two days after the Jitarn's Redemption disappeared into hyperspace, a fleet of Sith led Imperial Star Destroyers entered the system, promising the change the fate of the Jedi Order one way or another.

[Drin Kizael]

:: Drin Kizael stared out into the tunnel of hyperspace, feeling his age. His self-proclaimed rogue mission was at an end, and his body, not to mention his ship, were paying the price.

:: The navcomp signalled his approach to the Dagobah system. He reached up and flipped the comlink call switch, muttering to himself, "Wake u-up". The countdown to realspace conversion scrolled at a frantic pace, but Kizael felt no anticipation. He was just glad to be home, even the desolate swamp he complained about so much.

:: The cockpit door slid open and a dreary-eyed Roker pulled himself along the console to rest in his seat. "We there yet?" he moaned.

:: Kizael just looked at him out of the corner of his eye, reaching for the motivator levers. Roker looked back with genuine cluelessness. "What?"

:: As the starlines melted into realspace, Kizael's jaw dropped. Dagobah floated in front of him as expected, but dozens of capital ships hovered around it as well. What hit him hardest, though, was what was missing. The swamp planet, teeming with life as it was, generated a very unique signature in the Force. But the concentration of Jedi still stood out like a beacon to a Jedi's sight.

:: That beacon was gone.

:: Kizael slowly turned his head to the communications array, still absorbing what he was not seeing. "Roker...?"

:: The Bimm was very obviously awake by this point. "I'm on it, boss," he said as he kept his eyes fixed on the Star Destroyers and Frigates outside. He hit the comm, tearing his unbelieving eyes away from the armada.

:: "Uhhh, Drin?" he called, trying to pull his friend from his distant reverie. Kizael blinked and looked at him with alarm.

:: Roker turned the comm array volume up. "--ease confirm. Repeat: You have entered New Republic military space. We have identified your ship as Jitarn's Redemption. Jedi Drin Kizael? Please confirm."

:: Neither of the ship's occupants knew whether to be relieved or not.

[Drin Kizael]

:: "We can't even really call what happened here a battle," Ensign Dago explained as he walked with Kizael across the flight deck. Roker trailed behind the pair, looking around in awe like a kid in a theme park.

Ensign: "Your people got out, but the temple is a crater. By the time we arrived, an armada of Star Destroyers was already on its way out."

:: Kizael kept pace with the young Ensign in silence, barely aware of his words. While some small part of him felt vindicated for being so vocal against his fellow Jedi, his mind was too busy fighting against a welling flood of conflicting emotions, taking all his energy to keep his composure. He hated being right, especially when reality turned out to be even worse than his fears.

:: When Kizael realized that an awkward silence had settled in on the group, he spoke up. "My ship is in need of repairs. I don't ..."

Ensign: "Already taken care of, sir. The techs should have an ETA for you soon."

:: Dago stopped and hit a door control pad, gesturing for the others to enter first. As they walked into the lounge on the other side, Kizael nodded, "Thank you, Ensign. We'll be fine here for now."

:: The Jedi almost smiled as he watched Roker jog toward an open holonet station. The smile never fully formed, though. Drin let out a long sigh, looking out a viewport at the planet he had started to think of as home.