Log:Rebellion: Freedom's Sacrifice
A Jedi Knight is given over in full to the Force and those left behind remember.
OOC Date: January 27, 2025
Location: Memorial of Juria, Ithor
Participants: Ben Relor, Bizz Bliptettjupp, Cin'cirad Rook, Evie Leven Kora, Ferr'ai'ovumlu, Poe Dameron, Qutha Buvu Pah, Rey, Runsa Zhal, Zalon Bo
[ Zalon Bo (Z)]
Over the last few weeks war has been brought to the Ottega system and with it gradually the liberation of it followed. It has brought with it celebrations across not only the planet of Ithor, but the system itself. It's possible that those celebrations are premature with the hard path ahead, but for the New Rebellion it is a victory worth commemorating regardless of what may come in the future. The Cloud-Mother Herdship is still a place of revelry even some days later as those who survived honor those who did not. Their joy and enthusiasm is without bounds in response to having their freedom returned to them following years being under the Imperial yoke. Here, in a garden set aside for remembrance, a memorial has been erected by those same Ithorians. The Rebellion and the Jedi Order came with peaceful intentions. Those intentions were disrupted through the treachery of the Sith Empire, its minions, and their allies among the Ithorian population itself. Now a gathering has been called. Among those that have answered the summoning for gratitude, memory, and hope are the Ithorian leaders who survived the dastardly attempt at robbing Ithor and its people of their freedom. Accompanying the native leaders are representatives from the Rebellion and the Jedi Order as well.
Celebrations rise and fall throughout the herdship but the garden persists in its reverent quiet. A memorial statue has been erected among the plant life of the herdship's garden as aromatic ferns and flowering bulbs turn themselves toward the early evening sun in a final bid to gather more of the sun's light for themselves. Even the quiet twitter of birds can be heard, even if their sources often go unseen among the branches and foliage. The quiet trickle of a slow flowing stream meanders throughout the garden that serves to soothe the minds and souls of those that hear it. The humidity's high for those unaccustomed to it, but for those who are it is a rather pleasant environ. Even for those unaccustomed to such humid climates the many sounds and pleasant scents threaten to lull many into a peaceful nap.
Among the gathering of observers is Zalon Bo, Padawan of the Jedi Order. The Lasat stands at his full height and his hands clasped atop one another across his midsection. The earthen hued traveler's cloak that he wears hangs open, revealing the lighter browns and tans of his clothing beneath. The golden eyes of the Jedi are vigilant and why would they not. Among the Rebellion fleet overhead there has been gossip, rumor, and scuttlebutt regarding the death of a Jedi and a pair of Sith. Those same rumors mention the slain Jedi being carried from the aftermath and then guarded by Padawan Zalon Bo, until he was finally relieved from his vigil. It is for that reason the Jedi remains attentive and watchful, ready to respond to the unexpected or some Sith attempt to cause further mayhem through hidden agents.
Among the many funeral rites and observations of those claimed in the fighting for the Ottega system's liberation, it has come to pay those same acknowledgments to Jedi Knight Juria Nexum. Beyond the domed ecosystem a mixed squadron of starfighters streak through the sky overhead. The hulls waggle and wobble, simulating a respectful wave of their wings should they have them. It is a silent salute paid to the fallen Jedi Knight and as their presence in the sky above begins to recede into the distance, eyes fall upon another of the Jedi Order as she moves to take her place behind a speaker's podium that resides before the memorial. The Grandmaster of the Jedi Order stands before the assembly and as silence eases over those gathered, the first words to be spoken belong to Rey.
[ Rey (R)]
Rey steps forward, the black hood of her cloak casting a shadow over her face, but not enough to hide the intensity in her brown hued eyes. Her hands move to clutch the edges of the speaker's podium, her robotic left hand resting lightly against the podium's corner, its metal gleaming faintly under the soft lights of the garden. She waits for the gathered crowd to fall silent, leaving the only sounds to be the gentle burble of the nearby stream and the occasional whisper of wind through the leaves. Rey raises her head, her voice steady.
"Today, we honor Juria, a Jedi Knight whose courage and sacrifice embody the very essence of what it means to walk the path of the Light. She gave her life not for glory, not for recognition, but to ensure that others could live free - free from tyranny, free from fear. Juria believed, as I know that we all do, that the galaxy is worth fighting for, even in the face of overwhelming darkness."
She pauses, her gaze sweeping across the gathered faces.
"The Sith Empire has spread its shadow far and wide. It seeks to consume, to control, to twist the hearts of the innocent. But what the Sith fail to understand is that they cannot extinguish the flame of hope. Juria proved that. Each of you proves that, simply by standing here today, united in defiance of their oppression."
Rey's voice takes on a somewhat somber tone for the last measure of what she said there, before the strength returns, and she continues.
"For a long time, the Jedi have been held to the fringes of this war. We have been tending to our own needs, and the dangers that have tried to extinguish us as an Order. However, if I learned anything from my time with Jria, it was that now is the time for the Jedi Order to step forward again, and face the dangers that seek our demise. The Jedi are not relics of the past. We are the defenders of life, the guardians of peace. We are not perfect, nor are we many. But we are resolute. Juria's sacrifice reminds us that even in the darkest moments, we must hold fast to the Light - not because it is easy, but because it is necessary."
She glances at the statue of Juria, her expression softening.
"This garden will stand as a living tribute to Juria's legacy, a place for reflection, for renewal, for remembering that even one life can change the course of the galaxy. And it will serve as a reminder that the future is not yet written. The Sith may believe they have won, but the Rebellion grows stronger every day. We will rise. Together, we will ensure that the Empire's cruelty ends, and balance returns to the galaxy."
Rey's hands move up to push her hood back, further shedding light upon her lightly scarred visage, the shadows removed from her face.
"The people of Ithor are free today, because of the sacrifices of so many. Juria is but one example of this, but one that can be held up as a shining example of what we are pushing forward toward. Let this day remind us of who we are and what we fight for. For freedom. For justice. For the Light. Juria's sacrifice was not the end of her story - it is the beginning of our story of returning the balance of power in the galaxy, to the hands of its free people. May the Force be with us all."
She bows her head briefly, then steps back, her eyes lingering on the crowd, the statue, and the garden - silent but resolute. When Rey turns, her expressive brown eyes dance to the face of Evie, offering her a solemn nod, as the Jedi Master finds a place to stand off to the side.
[ Evie Kora (11)]
Of course, the Empress of the Void was going to be in attendence today. Anything less than that would have been a matter of disrespect.
Granted... today, it doesn't seem so much the (once?) grandoise and flamboyant Empress who's in attendence, or the more reclusive and obsessive Evie that rose as the Sith reigned supreme, but the person behind the bravado, Evennia Leven Kora. Widow of the deceased.
There's no flashy entrance, no smile worn on her face. Far from it, *grief* is something that radiates from the combat pilot-turned-businesswoman and you don't have to be particularly sensitive to emotions to see it despite her efforts to project a durasteel exterior. It's there in the way she walks, long strides that drag her simple black shoes across the ground. In the way she doesn't immediately make eye contact with anyone, though the black, lace veil she wears over her pale features doesn't make that particularly easy anyways. She wears her black hair tied back into a braid, a long, leather cord woven through the raven locks and hanging down below.
In a way, it's even there in the sleek weapon that sits very out of place at her hip, worn in clear view above the black, flowing gown she's chosen. To those who know her, however, it's not out of place at all. Evennia Kora is a Mandalorian. Even in a solemn moment like this, being unarmed would be rarely heard of. The only dash of color she wears aside from the weapon belongs to the deep blue gemstone hanging in a setting from a chain around her neck.
Today, of all days, the woman carries herself like the title she laid claim to. More stoic and regal than she's ever been seen.
Perhaps the weapon is doubly in-place because the woman isn't alone today. Walking at her side, hand in hand with the older one is a much younger girl. Some of those gathered might recognize her, too, as Katya. Daughter of Juria and Evie. Dressed in a similar fashion to her mother, minus the veil or any visible weapons. The pain's there, too. It's just worn differently. Her face is of a girl who looks for answers to the sorts of questions that have plagued the galaxy since the very first conflict. She wears vulnerability in a way her mother refuses to.
When her moment is indicated, Evie looks around briefly, taps Katya on her shoulder and motions a finger over towards Zalon Bo. Within a moment, the younger girl is racing over towards the Lasat Padawan and the pilot herself is making her way to the front of the gathering.
The long, slow steps continue once again, each taken in quiet reverance towards the statue atop the marble. When she reaches Rey, she stops, leans in to briefly whisper something to the other woman, and turns her gave up to the statue. A moment of silence for a lost love? Maybe the reaffirming of a commitment to a love that will never die. There's something very solemn about the moment.
Then, she finally turns to address those gathered. Clearing her throat first, and then raising her voice to be heard. "Gathered friends. I can say that, right?" she starts, the softest of chuckles escaping her throat. "This... isn't my first time speaking for someone who's..." she casts a look towards Zalon, then nods to herself. "...become one with the Force." It's really an easier way to say 'died'. It doesn't hurt as much, strangely enough. The idea that there might still be something left beyond her memories.
"It's the first time I ever expected to face a crowd like this on such an occasion, though, so thank you all for allowing me to be here." she starts, pausing to look over the crowd through her veil. "For those who don't know me, my name is Evennia Leven Kora. I'm a pilot. I'm an engineer. Until the battle of Exegol, I was a member of the First Order." She pauses here, to allow her past to take surface. Her posture tenses ever slightly, as if expecting an attack after the revelation. When it doesn't come immediately, she continues.
"That day, as many of your -- and my -- friends were waging a war to determine the fate of the Galaxy, I took my first steps towards peace. I commanded my pilots to disengage and go home. I expected to die that day, but the Force had other things in mind." she shakes her head slightly, taking a breath so she can continue to hold herself together. "Instead, I was welcomed to the victory celebration on Ajan Kloss, and while there were some who treated me with understandable distance, that wasn't the truth with everyone. That was the first day that I met Juria Nexum."
Another pause, this time to glance back at the statue behind her. A hand moving to her lips, and blowing a kiss through the veil. "Juria was... she was a prime example of what I was blind to, following Kylo Ren's commands. Her father had been taken by the First Order and she had been left to fend for herself among the stars. She had every reason to hate me, to want to tear me limb from limb. The way I was feeling that day, I would have welcomed it. Instead, she tried to cheer me up. Tried to help me have fun, and Force help me, that little blonde succeeded." Beneath the veil, the twinge of her lips into a smile can be seen. "That was who Juria Nexum was. She was my guiding light in an endless void."
She pauses to dwell on that for a moment, and continues, "She'd later go on to tell me that going into that battle, she had been angry. That it was hearing my voice that day that made her redefine the word 'enemy'. That under our helmets and armor, each of us..." her hands go to her face to lift the veil up and over her hair to allow her face to clearly be seen. "...is just a person. Someone who can make a difference. Someone who can still be saved. Juria saved me, that day and many beyond, from becoming... something I couldn't be proud of. That our daughter couldn't be proud of. She pulled me back from the edge and helped me stand tall."
"In fact... I'm told some of my wife's final acts came trying to save someone I, still, would be hard-pressed to not consider an enemy. Her very last act was saving the life of a friend." She pauses here, glancing towards the ground. This is the hard part. The part she's struggling the most holding herself together. "I could be angry at her, for leaving me, for leaving our daughter. For sacrificing herself like that." Beat. "The truth it, as much as I'd selfishly love to have her here with me, I couldn't be any prouder of the woman she became, of what she stood for... and for the first time in my life, despite serving alongside Sith and Jedi alike on many occasions, I'm starting to understand what the Force truly is. Sometimes, I swear I can almost feel her with me."
Another look back towards the statue, and she smiles, here. A smile borne of love and longing. "I know I've taken up a lot of your time, but I hope I've shown you that Juria Nexum should be a role model to everyone here... and I have one last, short story to tell you all today. She used to be enamoured with the title I claimed for myself, Empress of the Void. She said it made me sound... 'regal and junk'. Her words. She also told me that she hoped to get a 'cool nickname' of her own one day. I promised her she would. That she had to wait for the right stage. A grand stage to make her mark in history. So, 'Ria... I hope you can hear me out there, because your actions made you the Savior of Ottega. Just like somehow, I always knew they would."
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Brother Bizz has come in his kasaya robe with a gaggle of Jedhese orphans to commemorate Jedi Juria. There is Glim the pink Cragmoloid boy with his elephant-like trunk, Sonaa the tiny Togruta girl, Dia the little Twi'lek girl, Hylie the Mirialan girl, and Ansra the human girl in her hand-me-down scavenger costume. All of them are dressed in their simple grey formal robes, and all carry little floating lanterns with candles inside, meant to be released in a lake or stream. They are all fidgety as children tend to be.
[ Ben Relor (Relor)]
The young and anti-authoritarian New Rebellion lieutenant Ben Relor is here, looking *deeply* uncomfortable in his formal military uniform. Ben's even taken a shower! And washed his hair! He's trying very hard not to fidget, but he keeps tugging at his sleeves and at his collar, as though the kriffing thing means to swallow him whole, sarlacc-style, and he's trying to figure out how to escape. There is no escape for poor Ben, though. That's what he gets for wanting to be here.
And he does, truly. His tired, scarred face is solemn, the set of his mouth hard as he listens to Rey give her speech. When Rey speaks of the Sith Empire and its need to consume and control -- and all of them standing here in defiance of their impression -- his hands ball into fists at his sides. They stay that way as Rey continues to speak, his face lifting to take her in as she finally pushes back her hood.
His battered R5 (cleverly named Five) bumps against his leg, as if trying to steady him, and he lets out a small sigh, turning to listen to Evie next. And if she's expecting an attack for revealing that she's First Order, the closest she might get to it here is Ben, who indeed narrows his eyes when she says as much. It relaxes very slightly as she continues, the eyebrow with a missing piece raising slightly when she says they're all people underneath. But his expression becomes more pensive the more Evie speaks, and eventually slips away from her entirely as he takes in the weight of her words.
It doesn't matter that he only met Juria once. Who she was, what she did, and even what she represents -- it's why he's here.
[ Qutha Buvu Pah (Koof)]
Drifting on the outskirts of the gathering for as long as instincts deemed it plausible the Zelosian among the party was quiet.
Which wasn't anything new.
While some where in uniform, their best robes, or best personal attire he was clad in battered old, patched, boots. Heavy work pants held up by hefty belt of tools and tunic with his long hemmed coat. As if the idea of something as simply as a brushed suit of clothes or even something one might wear to a 'fancy' dinner were alien to him.
Perhaps nothing new either. To those who know him.
While Rey spoke he followed paths that he seemed drawn along as though by cords cast around his limbs. Meandering between and around others as they shifted weight, moved to get a better view or simply to change where they're standing.
Never needing to ask to be let past or beg forgiveness. Always happening to pass through where he needed go, with his gaze unfocused and his expression a conflicting juxtaposition of distraction and searching. The normal quiet serenity of Qutha Pah eluding.
When Evie begins one step becomes his holding with his foot out, thumbs hooked in his belt before he pivots in mimicry of falling - though to the side. Like gravity had suddenly changed for him. The wide brimmed field had removed and held to his side and the orchardist is walking directly to the memorial itself. Not seeking the podium, save for one hand to lazily reach out - to brush fingers over Evie's arm if allowed - or merely ghost the motion if she recoils.
Heading to stand before the stone that holds the saber hilt, crouching like he was about to dig in the dirt, forearms resting on his knees. Stone silent still, if not without movement. Nastic responses to filtering light seem to make him twitch unconsciously towards it.
[ Cin'cirad (Sira)]
The Mandalorian, who does not look very Mandalorian at the moment, by the name of Sira is also toward one of the outskirts of the group. Not because she necessarily wants to be - though she does - but because she's also here working to an extent. Dressed in a fitted uniform of the new Rebellion, with all the usual pomp that it provides, she's also sporting a pair of slugthrowers (She is a Mandalorian).
While the people are talking, she lowers the datapad out of respect, but the moment they step back she's back on it as she looks over the reports. Checking on the flight of X-wings that should be doing their own fly over. Checking the status of them, she glances up and to the side, noting that they passed over with the same level of skill as the other group. A similar wing waggle before the three in the lead break off, pulling up hard while the rest of the squadron break to either side.
A few moments later, the color starts. A colorful display as they three fan out, creating the stereotypical symbol of the Rebellion in the sky before breaking off to allow for the next squadron to do their own. It is, after all, a moment paid for respect to those who have died. Especially the Jedi, Juria.
And so Sira is back on her datapad, checking the squadron's status and tapping in a few notes. She expected more from Bingo, the Squadron lead, and she swears that she was a few degrees off when she cut off from the display.
[ Runsa Zhal (runa)]
In stark contrast to Qutha's utilitarian attire is Runsa Zhal's elegant robes. The very few who know her know she has never missed an opertunity to regale herself in fine clothes, but it is almost certainly done in the same confounding manner as the Zelosian. Not so much to draw attention to herself, but to change the perspective of how she, herself, is viewed to those who know anything at all about Jedi.
The thin hood of her robes rests low upon her high, rounded, brow where she stands back from the greater congregation where she may not be in anyone's way. She had only known Juria in name, and had never met the Knight personally, but any loss of life in pursuit of the Order and Galaxy was worthy of a great deal of sympathy. Especially that of the family she'd left behind.
Grey-ish red eyes shift from Rey when she speaks, a bow of her head in agreement that likely goes unseen, to Evie as she tells them some personal details of who the woman they were here to remember was. A juxtaposition of the individual who had given her life for the freedom of Ottega and Ithor.
It is likely understandable that she does not make her way to the widow and her daughter, whom she does not know, but to Ben. Stepping up beside him with her hands resting upon her abdomen beside the clearly visible Lightsaber hanging, more in ceremony than anything, from her white clothe wrapped belt.
No words to the surly Solder. Simply presence beside him.
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Brother Bizz remains meditative, muttering his prayers to the Force. The testimony of Evie Kora and Katya makes Sonaa the tiny Togruta girl start to cry. She holds her lantern away from her as the tears threaten to douse its flame. Even Glim the pink Cragmoloid boy sniffles a little, with droplets of moisture running down his elephantine trunk.
[ Zalon Bo (Z)]
Throughout the words of Rey, Zalon Bo remains watchful and attentive. A solemn nod is given in time with them, seemingly striking a chord within the Lasat. Despite that fact he does not give a shout of agreement or cheer, but instead maintains his reverent silence. The defiance against tyranny itself seems to earn the greatest of those agreeable nods and Zalon's hands slip apart to rest now at his sides. By the conclusion of Rey's speech and the approach of Evie to the podium, Zalon is soon accompanied by a significantly smaller companion. It is one that Zalon leans down to offers both a polite bow before he straightens once more. The padawan glances aside when a fistful of is robe is claimed by Katya and it seems that in that moment the Lasat is at ease with permitting the contact in an effort to be supportive in whatever way he is able.
The grave nature of his expression lightens when Evie begins to recount her own history with the slain Jedi Knight. As the beneficiary of Juria's good nature and sacrifice, it's a part of the stories that Zalon seems both eager and keen to listen and absorb. The hands at his sides shift back to his midsection, folding atop themselves once again. It is in that gesture that the large fingers of one hand move to brush fingertips across the strand of beads that surrounds his right wrist. His expression turns thoughtful and his eyes distant as he seems to remember the smell of smoke, the sound of lightsabers clashing, the growls of frustration from a fallen opponent, and a softly spoken forgiveness.
The Jedi swallows around the lump forming in his throat and a tilt of his head leads to his neck stretching to one side. He lays claim to a deep breath, allowing it to soothe troubling memories away while his golden eyes seem to glisten; whether out of memory or the words of a widow.
A glance aside to Katya seems enough to shake Zalon seems enough to shift the Lasat away from his emotions and toward casting a warm smile down to Juria's daughter. He offers her a firm nod of reassurance, but does eventually turn his attention back to the memorial and speaker's area.
As the speeches draw to a close a flame is lit. Deeper in the garden the body of Juria Nexum, Knight of the Jedi Order, is laid upon what will become the pyre to send her fully onward to join with the Force. The Ithorians have gone to great lengths to ensure that the Jedi's funeral rituals won't end it catastrophe and thus the torch is brought to the accelerant. The bier on which the Jedi Knight's body resides takes flame. The crackling of flame is comforting despite the grim nature of the commemoration. The overhead dome has been opened to allow for the smoke and scent to be carried up and away, into the atmosphere of Ithor. The wind will of course take the ashes and in their descent be cooled until they fall to the jungles far below, aiding in promoting continued life on the surface of the same planet which Juria Nexum paid her life to liberate.
[ Ben Relor (Relor)]
Ben Relor's gaze raises to the sky as the X-wings fly above them. He actually cracks half a smile at the sight of that symbol in the sky. He then seems a tiny bit startled to find Runsa standing next to him. The Duros gets a slight nod from the young demo-tech, and Five blinks his photoreceptors at her in a kind of silent greeting.
He turns to watch the fire consume Juria's body, his normally sharp blue eyes eyes going a little glassy and far away as he observes. His arms were tightly folded across his narrow, wiry chest, but he forces himself to bring them down to his sides so as to take on a more respectful posture.
[ Rey (R)]
Rey had offered a small smile, brief and fleeting, to Evie, prior to the woman going to give her own words. Once Evie began, Rey returned her hood up, and simply crossed her hands together in front of her lap, her black cloak closing around her shoulders, and draping in gently swaying waves down her body. She stood quietly by, listened to the others' words, and let her gaze roam over those in attendance. Brother Bizz, and more importantly, his orphans, got a lingering stare, watching the children fidget nervously. She afforded one or two a gentle smile, and an acknowledging nod, to help ease their nerves. When the fire light ceremony began, to return Juria to the energy of the Force itself, Rey solemnly raised her chin, and silently observed. She stood motionlessly, observing, the death of another of her students in these decades of seemingly endless war.
[ Evie Kora (11)]
Evie's normally the type of person who seeks the spotlight; today isn't that day. Once she's done speaking, she gives a grateful smile towards Rey once more, and then makes her way away from the front of the group.
When Qutha reaches out for her, Evie stops, and offers him a gentle smile. She pauses there, turning towards where Juria's body lay, and Katya makes a beeline to cling anew to her mother -- but only after giving Zalon a quick hug.
Even the most talkative member of Clan Kora is silent when the moment calls for it, head bowing as the funeral pyre is lit. There's a shudder that runs through her entire body as the blaze takes life. It's... a sight to see.
She had been warned it would occur, of course, and given her approval. Evie was not even going to consider denying her wife the whole of the Jedi funeral rites. It was who Juria was, who she had worked so hard to be.
After a moment, she speaks again. This time her voice shakes and is far softer than her 'speech voice', "I remember you." she offers. "You were there helping us free Gallem from the Order's prison." There's a pause here as she considers her next words.
"I know how hard she... *we*... tried to find him. How much it meant to her that he taste the sweet air of freedom once again. That Katya and I could meet him." Pause. "How much it meant to all three of us. I know it was a huge load off of her mind, and I will be forever grateful to you, Rey and the others for being there with us that day." Yes, she remembers their names. No, she doesn't see them in the crowd. Otherwise they'd get personalized thank yous, again.
[ Ferr'ai'ovumlu (Raio)]
Loss. Something that Ferr'ai'ovumlu hasn't actually had to deal with in his life. He doesn't really have family and he's been part of this Rebellion since joining alongside Roko. All in all, it's been a pretty straightforward through trauma life for him for as long as he can remember. All this to say that he has made the Rebellion his new family. His first family. His only family? Losing a member of that family for the betterment of and the future of the galaxy is hard. Which is why Raio hasn't been saying a word this entire time. He's just be standing further back and watching and listening to make sure that those feeling the full on grief of this have the space they need to deal with this.
Raio keeps his arms folded behind him as he looks around to take in the faces of those that have gathered here for this moment. Emotions are not exactly his strong suit but showing up for his colleagues is something that he does know how to do. So here he is.
[ Bizz Bliptettjupp (bizz)]
Bizz completes his prayers. For a time he and the orphans stand there watching Jedi Juria's pyre. Then he ushers them down to the stream, saying to the orphans, "Send the lanterns down the stream; it will light her journey to join the FORCE." Glim the pink Cragmoloid boy, Sonaa the tiny Togruta, Dia the little Twi'lek girl, Hylie the Mirialan girl, and Ansra the human girl all scurry down the bank in robes to send their floating lanterns on the stream. One by one the lanterns bob on the water like glowing ducklings, following each other on the water's winding path through the garden preserve.
[ Qutha Buvu Pah (Koof)]
"Well..." Wail. "You done need be no concernin' y'self with me, Ma'am... I's never turned 'er down f'he'p... Never will, tell you what..." Not raising, looking ahead and at nothing at the same time. "S'jus' like her too... She said she'd ne'er pay back them ten credits." A brief shake, a silenced bark of what might've been a laugh, "Ne'r e'r e'r..." Fixing up his face now, dashing the back of his hand just below one eye. The plant man pulls in a deep breath, holding it and for an instant he's all here, present. Sagging some where he crouches.
"I's sorry I weren' there, Miss Kora. But I reckon... I t'weren't mean t'be here. 'Cause she were, n'neither'n us was meant t'spy it none...."
The zelosian reaches into his coat where he remains crouched down, before Juria's memorial still, looking to the engravings with something that might be an impression of a genuine frown on his face, in place of his normal blank... nothing.
His other hand raising to rub the edge of his thumb against the corner of his mouth and to one side of his nose while his forehead wrinkles, becoming quieter as his eyes unfocus again, "T'ain' aught you'd enjoy, eh?" Head tilting to one side, the odd bit of whatever he is saying to the stone drifting up for listening ears. Not speaking to Evie this time.
"Getta greasy bread fry with that yeller sauce..."
More drifting up as he has crouched closer, hands working steadily in the soil, his body and coat keeping much of whatever he is doing obfuscated.
"N'all them blaisted sug'r puffs... n'I'll be drunk as a lord... hell." hail.
Something is being patted down, and little sprigs of green are visible every now and then while he works. The soft 'chnk' of soil being moved and Still muttering not looking to the rise of flames in the distance,
"Yer don' need tell me none 'bout no crude matter..."
Standing slowly, shifting as if he'd been punched in the shoulder, the mystic grunts and actually rubs where he was 'struck'. Looking to Evennia, dirty fingers smudging soil over his cheek as he wipes away moisture.
At his feet there are... the most garishly clashing shoots planet in the soil before the memorial, a riot of mustard yellows and poison label magentas with flowers blossoming in electric blue and the sort of green one spies in an infants nappy when changing them.
"She'd ne'er let me liv't down if I ain' done it." One corner of his mouth lifting before a speaker situated in the middle of the plants begins playing a track nigh one hundred years old.
A Max Rebo jam.
[ Runsa Zhal (runa)]
"This is one of our oldest rituals." Runsa says in a quiet tone to Ben beside her, hand moving from her belt to rest upon the battered head of Five. A single, silent, greeting to the droids blinking occulars. The hand retracts and rests upon her belt, "Everything exists in the Force. A strand that binds all living things in a tapestry of life."
Whether she's telling Ben something he already knows, has heard, or is even listening to her.. it doesn't matter. She's speaking as much to herself and the spirit of the woman they're here to remember as to the soldier beside her.
"This is symbolic of returning the body of a fallen Jedi to the weave." The crackling of fire is offset by the mental image of Katya clinging to her mother once last time before the torches are brought to light the pyre. The corner of her robe sleeve dabs against the inside of her left eye, jaw tightening in a rare display of an expression other than a gentle smile.
At least until the Max Rebo Jam starts.
Hard not to laugh.. not at the music... and certainly not at the ceremony.. but the oddity of that particular song choice. It says a great deal about the Jedi Knight being sent off, as well of Qutha. The smile returns.
[ Cin'cirad (Sira)]
A few more frantic taps on the datapad as Sira finishes up the report to be sent off when the Squadron finished and returned back to the Legacy. A Wing Commander's job is never done. Even as she submits the report, she can see more notifications popping up. Another for supply requisitions, another for...
Sira turns the datapad off and tucks it back into its spot on her belt. Her hand flitting across the slugthrower once more as just a reassurance before she turns to look out at the group of them. She shifts a bit, sighing as she turns to watch the pyre light up. Watching as the funeral is 'completed' in its own way. A bit of a frown as her mouth pulls to the side. Almost like the girl who looks 18 doesn't know what to make of it.
She shifts her footing again as she looks around once more to spot a coupe people that she knows. A few that she saw just 'about,' but one in particular caught her eyes.
Moving that direction, she moves between one group, slipping around another even as the Max Rebo Jam is kicking off. Frankly, she'd prefer some GonkRock right about now. Maybe even some Glimmick. But she didn't get to choose the music at the venue. "Hey! Kid!" She comes to a stop near Ben Relor. Out of armor, they're near enough the same height, the armor does add a few inches after all in helmet and boots. "Who's your friend?" She nods her head toward Runsa.
[ Poe Dameron (Poe)]
Whatever passed for an Ithorian female was discussing something, at her own pace, with Poe Dameron off in one corner. It seems intense until Poe lifts both hands as if to say, 'well, wait a minute.' "You got to understand; we take these world liberations very seriously. Rules too, I mean Naboo had rules when we liberated them like a lifetime ago. And Chandrila?" Poe lifted his hand and arm, waving it passed his head to linger up high, and sighed out exasperated, "Don't even get them started. You know they had a government sanction for the proper length of cut grass? I KNOW.."
His hand is lowered and hooked on his gun belt, the older ace pilot showing more salt and pepper in his wild and curly hair. The Ithorian appears to be laughing, or maybe that's the sound of laughing. It all sounds the same, but Poe is there with a drek-eating grin, with BB-8 not far off.
[ Ben Relor (Relor)]
Five's flat-top dome swivels around all the way when Runsa puts her hand on his head. Perhaps he likes that. Ben Relor, meanwhile, moves his gaze from the ceremony before him to the Duros standing beside him. His eyes flit to the lightsaber on her belt, then up to Runsa's face. He's about to say something to her...when the Max Rebo jam starts up, and then he just snorts in mild disbelief. Because apparently, it's turned into a 'jizz' funeral.
Ben snorts again, shaking his head, and the defensive posture of arms folding returns. "Good to know that even Jedi have senses of humor." His brows raise as Sira draws nearer. "Oh, uh, this is Runsa -- are we friends?" Brow furrowed, he turns back to Runsa with a wry smile. Though he's distracted briefly at the sound of Poe's voice, and his bloodshot blue eyes follow the older pilot for a little while, watching him.
[ Runsa Zhal (runa)]
"Why wouldn't we be?" Runsa answers Ben's question on whether they're friends, half turning towards the unmasked Wing Commander with a gentle smile and dip of her head in greeting. "Runsa Zhal." Proper introductions and all that, her hand extends to Sira in proper greeting.
Then once more to Ben, "Of course they have senses of humor.. have you 'seen' the robes we wear? 'Hilarious'." Adding her own joke to the mix, if a bit off from Qutha and, from beyond the grave, Juria.
For her own part, Runsa is in very lovely robes that have yet to be desced so don't bother looking. Trust is virtue. Thin, comfortable materials with long woven, cloth wrapped boots in golds and whites. With an elegant curve handled lightsaber dangling from a cloth wrapping around her waist, acting as a belt.
[ Evie Kora (11)]
"That was Juria," Evie agrees with Qutha's assessment, not able to keep herself from smiling. Sure, there's parts of her that hurt when she thinks of her wife... but right now, somehow, it's a little easier to grasp onto the good parts. To let her heart soar with the good memories rather than dwell on the very last one.
"You said it... it wasn't meant for us to be there. We were needed elsewhere." she agrees, looking down to her daughter and reaching out a hand to ruffle the younger girl's hair. She's settled on that being the most important reason for her not to have been there. Because Katya still needed a mother.
...and when he goes to add those... very contrasting plants to Juria's memorial? The former First Order pilot blinks once. Twice. Then genuinely laughs.
"She would love them." Evie agrees with Qutha's claim, the smile briefly reaching her eyes. "No, I know she *does*."
And as the music starts? She can feel Juria's presence even more. Her former co-pilot loved music as much as Evie did, and the pair of them would often have it playing loud in the YV-666 that they had made their home.
[Ferr'ai'ovumlu (Raio)] The Max Rebo track has even Raio doing just a bit of a head nod to it. As the mingling portion of this memorial becomes more apparent, Raio finds that he's going to have to actually attempt to be somewhat sociable. It takes him a few moments to actually move from the spot he was standing at the entire ceremony but now he's heading over to be in the same vicinity as some of the others. The expression on his face remains a calm and neutral expression in the midst of all of this collective emotion.
Even with his fingers behind his back, there's a bit of a tap of those fingers because even a Chiss as stiff as Raio cannot deny that Max Rebo, as they say, slaps. Despite his token stoic demeanor.
[ Rey (R)]
Rey had been joined by two other young Jedi, and the trio had stepped over to Brother Bizz's orphans. Finding a moment to help the children, the three robed figures aided in the lanterns finding their way down stream, before Rey ruffled the hair of the Human orphan, and stood to her full height again. Turning to her two children, even if they were on the verge of adulthood now themselves, Rey bid them freedom to go where they wished, and Together, Miramir and Kyp began to navigate down one of the pathways toward the music, while Rey? She spied the old smuggler scoundrel himself, no, not that one. Poe.
Rey approached Poe, a smile showing lightly on her visage. "you made it." She quietly told him. "Ithor seems to be celebrating across all of its home ships. This is the beginning of i," she said. "The returning wave. Feels familiar, somehow, doesn't it?"
[ Cin'cirad (Sira)]
What's that? She turns her head to see Poe, a raise of an eyebrow and she positively cracks a grin. She mutters under her breath, "I swear, can't take that guy anywhere. Is he seriously hitting on an Ithorian? Kriffin' perfect." She shakes her head, trying to regain whatever little momentum she built up in her approach to Ben. She looks back to Ben and Runsa for a moment, then back to Poe as she snorts a laugh that turns practically into a cackle as she grins. Another shake of her head and she looks back to Ben and Runsa, reaching her left hand up to wipe tears of mirth from her eyes.
"Ohhh that never gets old." She lets out a sigh and then punches Ben lightly in the shoulder. Who's to say if Ben's uniform is tailored, but her's definitely is. "See? Look at that, she even admitted you're friends. Way to go!" Then to Runsa she gives a brief shrug and and offers her hand instead of the dip of a head. "Cin'cirad Rook, or just Sira. Usually easier to say." Her eyes flick toward the lightsaber then back up. "Ooo, and Ben's got a Jedi friend." A look back to Ben, "Super fancy." Then back to Runsa, "I am glad, ya know. That y'all are getting back on track. Felt really touch and go since the Clone Wars and all. Oh!" Her eyebrows shoot up, "Did you enjoy the flyover? Not the first one, not sure who they were with. The second one."
