Populate A Change is Gonna Come | THR Populate of Iphigin

[Sae]

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Tag: Anet Raine | Verity Stuyveris | Eharl Sarn | Jaun Smyth | Vaerelyn Thorne | Ephram Pryce | Dault Grimmin | Connel Vanagor | Dominique Vexx

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BEFORE THE EXPLOSION.

Sae registered a formal request to speak after that. Kenari. Evidently they were still working through certain formalities, which left Sae in a bit of a lurch. Dominique would take the request under advisement; though she suspected a private meeting might be better given the topic last time and her recent broadcast.

Sae adjusted herself on the hoverdais seat while the Senator's offered their platitudes and opinions on Chancellor Vexx's declaration of war on all Sith. She found herself frowning and frustrated by the setting. There was no procedure happening that Sae could see. It as if the moment that the session begun that every representative in this hall programmed their podiums to issue their voices in either support of the declaration or questioning the Chancellor on what she meant by all Sith. There was no procedure in place here. No order.

Sae could imagine that if these people were reprimanded or punished for speaking out of turn (without even the formality of being recognised or requesting to speak as Sae had done) then there would be an outcry. How were these people supposed to get anything done when their voice bogged it all down in so much noise? The blinking red light on Sae's screen only added to the frustration happening in this buraeucratic theatre and mess. Her request to speak on the Senate floor had been rejected. The wrong voice had been silenced.

Then it happened.

AFTER THE EXPLOSION.

Sae felt a metallic hand grab her by the arm. She screamed in protest only to stop abruptly when she realised that it was the Senator who was helping her back up to her feet. Ears ringing and in a state of disarray Sae searched the hall to discover what had happened after she got back up to her feet. Sae knew a blast site when she saw one. Not that she didn't need her ears to understand what had happened. Explosions tend to be loud and revealing to the senses.

"I am fine," Sae sneered at the droid beside her. "Let go of me."

As Senator let go Sae caught both hands on the edge of the hoverdais as it continued to hover high above nearer the ceiling of the senate hall than to the floor where Cato Neimodia's representative had been seated. The shaking wouldn't stop. However, Sae was quietly thankful to be this far up. Any closer and perhaps it would have been her caught in the blast. Kenari being this far on the fringes of Republic politics had at the very least one distinctive advantage:

Nobody was going to try and kill them.

"That is precisely what They want. To see us live in fear. To fear one another. Great effort was made by our security forces to prepare this chamber for this gathering. That this outrageous assault should strike one of our own in spite of that... We shall not surrender. Not after Thyferra. Not after today. These are our worlds. Our homes, and we will fight to the last to keep them."

"We are leaving," Sae muttered to herself.

While the Chancellor played the hopeful idealist Sae as anything but the pragmatist in her midst. Taking a moment to steel herself (as the hoverdais hovered back up to the doorway connecting the Senate chamber to the hallways outside) Sae tried to adjust her figure and hair that was unkempt or besmirched after she fell over during the explosion. As the dais connected back to the doors and opened up before Sae took a moment to look over her shoulder and out over the hall where the explosion had happened. She shook her head in disappointment.

"This is why people need the Empire..."

Exiting the hall Sae turned to walk down the corridor alongside Senator. She fumbled a communicator out from her suit in an attempt to contact the compact. If the bombing had one desired effect it was this: not all of the represented planets had the moment to declare their vote. With the session put into disarray at least one star system remained undeclared. It wasn't an abstention on the matter or a declaration for a 'yes' or a 'no'. It was merely the by-product of a fact that this emergency session had been victim to a terrorist incident in the heart of Theed.

However, the Supreme High Chancellor may not need it after today. War had already come to Naboo it would seem; and by night's end Vexx seemed to have enough votes to count for her declaration. So what if Kenari hadn't the chance to use it's voice?

KENARI'S VOTE ON CHANCELLOR VEXX'S DECLARATION OF WAR: UNDECLARED.

[ THREAD EXIT ]
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[Rue]

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Tags: Guinevere Cavello | Lyraen Solari | Aurelian Veruna

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Rue lowered her arm (with Aurelian's finger) as the King seemingly rejected her. She tried not to sneer or say something smug about him.

"Yes, well... I was in the middle of inquiring about Bacta from our friend from Avenar here, perhaps in exchange for aid regarding her planet's standing in the Republic."

"Now, as delightful as surprise reunions are, I am far more interested in why you seem to be stalking me across this hall."

"If only they had listened to your warnings about the Sith invasion," Rue replied curtly. She tried to make herself sound not so smug at the idea that the elites in the High Republic hadn't taken his premonitions of a Sith invasion so seriously during his interim Chancellorship. But Rue couldn't help herself. Veruna had a way of getting under your skin and in record time given that Rue had been less than a minute in his company before he got on the wrong side of her.

"But thankfully there was someone listening back then." Gesturing her hand to her mouth, Rue asked: "May I whisper something in your ear?"

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[Guinevere Cavello]

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Guinevere watched the exchange with quiet, widening eyes. For one brief, terrible moment, she was convinced she had misunderstood what Rue had intended. The offered wrist had seemed deliberate enough, some gesture of courtly greeting perhaps, and yet the King had not merely declined it. He had pressed it away with a single finger. Was that rude? Her gaze flickered between them before she could stop herself.

Perhaps it was Rue who had been rude. Guinevere had been raised with an exhausting catalog of customs, expectations, and formalities, but Naboo possessed traditions all its own. Maybe offering one's wrist to a reigning monarch without invitation was considered presumptuous here. Or perhaps the King was simply making a point.

She decided, very quickly, that asking would be infinitely worse. Then Aurelian mentioned Avenar. Guinevere's attention snapped back toward him, surprise briefly overtaking her concern over whatever strange social battle was unfolding between the King and Rue. She had not expected the conversation to return to her so abruptly, and certainly not with the suggestion of aid concerning Avenar's standing within the Republic.

Her posture straightened almost instinctively. "My father has expressed interest in Avenar formally joining the High Republic," she said. "I would be happy to arrange an audience between you."

The words came easily enough, but unease followed close behind them. An audience was one thing. Agreements were another. Avenar was not a world that welcomed change simply because change arrived dressed in promises of prosperity. Its people were conservative by nature, protective of traditions that had endured for generations, but even that paled beside their protectiveness toward the planet itself. Forests, waterways, native species, every element of Avenar's ecosystem was treated as something held in trust rather than something to be exploited.

Bacta complicated matters further. If the High Republic sought greater access to Avenar's resources, her father would listen. He would always listen. That did not mean he would agree. Any proposal that threatened to disturb the planet's ecological balance would meet resistance long before it ever reached a negotiating table.

Guinevere folded her hands neatly before her, her expression remaining pleasant despite the concern gathering beneath it. She could arrange the meeting. What came after would require considerably more care.

Wearing: x | Tags: Lyraen Solari Rue Aurelian Veruna

 

[Rathir]

THE HIGH REPUBLIC

RATHIR
JEDI INITIATE • LIVING FORCE

LOCATION TRADING POINT, VENDAXA ◆ OBJECTIVE SHOPPING

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Rathir exhaled as the scene began to calm, or at least lose some of its intensity. Part of him was still ready to throw down, blood pumping hard enough that he had to consciously keep his Jedi training in mind. A few years ago, Denon would have demanded a quick response and no hesitation. Things were supposed to be different now, and Jackson's presence helped.

"There should be enough to share," Rathir said, trying to lighten his tone and only barely managing it. "We just need to remember we're all--"

Then the civilian called Kuhbee a mutt.

A growl escaped Rathir just before the first stomp hit. Standing right beside the Wookiee cub, he stumbled sideways and only just found his balance before the second sent another jolt through the ground. By the third, anger was climbing faster than he could settle it. He wanted to hit the civilian for starting it, and he wanted Kuhbee to stop making everything worse.

"Kuhbee, stop!"

Another impact threw Rathir into the stall with a thud. He grimaced as jars and other breakables began to topple around him, grabbing for whatever he could before it smashed to the ground. He managed to grip a glass container of food, but more cracked and shattered around him, spraying his boots and pants with juice and whatever else had been inside.

Hopefully Kuhbee found some calm soon, because Rathir could feel his own slipping.

Rathir started to growl.

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TAGS
Jackson Lesan • Sophelia Ardemark • Chiassa • Kuhbee ​

FIRRERREO • FORM V • JEDI INITIATE​

 

[Lyraen Solari]

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Sub-objective: So This Is What Princesses Do?
Location: Theed Cultural Center, Naboo
Outfit: Sea-Green Gown
Tags: OPEN | Guinevere Cavello | Rue | Aurelian Veruna

Lyraen's amusement faded somewhat when Aurelian returned the conversation to Avenar. She listened as Gwen answered him, watching the subtle change in her friend. Only moments ago, the two of them had been sharing silent looks over an unfamiliar greeting. Now Gwen was discussing her father's interest in joining the High Republic and offering to arrange an audience with a king.

Lyraen remained quiet. It wasn't her conversation to enter, but she found herself paying closer attention than she might have before. She had come tonight partly because Markus hadn't wanted to. There had been some stubborn satisfaction in that decision, as if merely showing up proved she could manage the obligations he preferred to avoid. Maybe his family would even appreciate the effort. Watching Gwen made it seem a little less simple than that.

Gwen hadn't promised Aurelian anything. She hadn't needed to. She had simply known what her father wanted and understood what she could offer without speaking beyond her authority. And because she was here, the two men might now speak.

Lyraen wondered whether she could do the same for Kirima. The question was uncomfortable enough that she left it unanswered. Rue's request drew her attention back to the considerably stranger interaction happening beside them. A whisper. After the wrist, apparently they were progressing to ears.

Lyraen resisted the urge to look immediately at Gwen. She lasted perhaps two seconds. As Rue's attention settled fully upon Aurelian, Lyraen shifted a little nearer to her friend. It was nothing dramatic, merely enough to leave the King and Rue whatever semblance of privacy could exist while standing in the middle of a crowded reception.

Then she leaned subtly toward Gwen. "You were expecting him to kiss it, weren't you?” Lyraen kept her voice low enough that the question was intended for Gwen alone. "Should I assume that's not how introductions work on Avenar?" The innocent expression she managed afterward might have been more convincing if the corner of her mouth hadn't already started to curl upward.

Her eyes briefly dropped toward Rue's hand before returning to Gwen. She knew perfectly well what the answer was. And Gwen knew she knew. Lyraen straightened again before she actually laughed, remaining beside her friend while Rue and Aurelian dealt with whatever secret had brought the woman across the hall in pursuit of him. For the moment, Lyraen was content to stay exactly where she was. She was beginning to think there was considerably more to be learned here than she'd expected.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

B R A T A W A N S

“That worked so well last time.”

A roll of blues skyward behind Jackson's back as he stepped in to join the rest of the boys.

"Let the boys be boys, gotcha,"

A genuine small little smile briefly on her lips to Chiassa. "Exactly." The healer winked back. All smiles were erased with the shaking of the ground. She quickly knelt by Chi's side. "You okay?" A glare over her shoulder at the wookie padawan. Kuhbee

She didn't need to add her voice to the complaints. He had enough. Then surprise as...."Did Rathir just growl?"

Oh boy.

Reaching out gently with the force and with precision that surprised her, she caught a few of the vendor items mid-drop and lowered them safely to the ground. A nudge of someone out of the way who was in danger of being trampled on. A buffer of someone about to fall. Blues widened as she saw a man curl his fist and yoink it back, aiming to punch Jackson.

Soph threw up a small force barrier which the man promptly hit instead of the padawan's body.

SMASH.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Rue | Guinevere Cavello | Lyraen Solari

Flattery was a bold tactic, but predictable. Aurelian stared plain-faced at Rue, recognizing the angle immediately. It was the same line of approach another player tied to Vūm had used before, and dangerously close to the game Marlon Sularen played right before stealing one of the Republic senators. Did he look like a man who could be bought with sweet words? Probably, if the offer was good enough. Though that was his call to make, not someone else's to assume.

Instead of leaning down for her requested whisper, he turned his back on Rue and focused his attention squarely on Guinevere and Lyraen.

"I will have my office set something up with your father, Princess," he said, offering Guinevere a respectful nod. He turned to Lyraen with the same practiced charm. "My lady."

Without another word to the royal women, Aurelian reached out, clamped his hand around Rue's arm, and hauled her away from the gathering. He cut through the glittering crowd, steering her past whispering aristocrats and out toward the open-air patio overlooking the lake.

He released her arm somewhere near the threshold, confident she would follow the rest of the way. Reaching the stone railing, he turned around and leaned back against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Out with it then," Aurelian said.

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[Jackson Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Sophelia Ardemark | Chiassa | Rathir | Kuhbee

For one fleeting second, Jackson thought they had actually managed to settle the whole thing without anyone getting hurt.

The man tossed the bacta down, Kuhbee scooped it up, and the Wookiee’s anger disappeared beneath a grin so ridiculously pleased with itself that Jackson could not help returning it. When Kuhbee pushed the pouch into his hands, Jackson accepted it carefully and gave the younger Padawan an approving nod.

“Nice work, big guy. First bacta on the cart is yours.”

He had barely gotten the words out before somebody behind Kuhbee decided that peace had lasted long enough.

Jackson’s expression hardened, but Kuhbee reacted before he could say anything. The first stomp traveled through the soles of his boots. By the second, bottles were rattling against one another and people nearest the stall were beginning to stumble away. The third sent Rathir sideways into the vendor’s display while the crowd behind Jackson started breaking in every direction.

“Kuhbee, hey! He’s not worth it.”

Jackson reached toward the Wookiee but stopped short of grabbing him. He doubted wrestling an angry Wookiee was going to improve matters, and the market stall shuddering beside them gave him a much more immediate concern. Rathir was already trying to catch whatever he could before it hit the ground, though the growl coming from the Firrerreo suggested Jackson might soon have two problems instead of one.

“Rathir,” Jackson warned, catching his eye for a moment. “Don’t give that idiot what he wants.”

A frightened shout behind him pulled Jackson’s attention toward the others. Chiassa had gone down near the cart, with Soph already dropping beside her as people scrambled away from Kuhbee. Jackson started toward them, keeping the bacta pouch clutched tightly in one hand while his other came up to redirect a stumbling marketgoer away from the youngling.

That was when he caught movement at the edge of his vision.

A fist was coming straight for him.

Jackson turned into it instinctively, too late to get completely clear, but the punch never landed. The man’s knuckles slammed against empty air inches from Jackson’s face with a sharp impact that made him blink.

His eyes immediately found Sophelia.

The shimmer of her barrier told him everything he needed to know.

Jackson stared at the fist hanging on the other side of it, then at the man attached to it.

“Okay. That one actually was going to hurt.”

He backed away rather than answering the swing with one of his own. Every instinct he had picked up growing up on Jakku told him there were situations where hitting somebody back solved a problem quickly. Jedi training had unfortunately complicated what used to be a beautifully simple philosophy.

Besides, Sophelia would never let him hear the end of it.

Jackson raised his voice enough to carry over the crowd.

“Everybody stop!”

He put a little of the Force behind the command, not enough to compel anyone, but enough to give his voice some weight over the shouting and crashing around them.

“This is bacta. Nobody should need bacta because we started fighting over bacta.”

His attention moved first to Kuhbee, then Rathir, and finally toward the civilians surrounding them. Jackson understood the fear beneath all of it. The Sith held Thyferra. Nobody knew when the next shipment would come. Every pouch on that counter might mean somebody lived who otherwise would not. That did not make this any less stupid.

Jackson looked toward the vendor.

“One pouch per customer. You said it, we follow it. Everybody gets back in line, everybody gets one if there’s enough, and nobody touches anybody else.”

A crash beside him made Jackson wince as part of the already battered stall finally gave under the abuse. He caught the edge of the counter with both hands and shoved it back upright before more of the vendor’s goods could spill into the street.

“Preferably before we destroy everything we came here to buy.”

His gaze found Chiassa again once he knew the stall was not coming down. Soph was beside her, which eased some of the immediate worry, but Jackson still pointed toward the hover cart.

“Chee, stay close to the cart until everybody remembers how markets work.” Then he looked at Rathir, whose temper was still written plainly across his face. “Help me keep this thing standing. We’ve already spent enough credits today without paying for a whole stall.”

The bacta pouch remained clenched in Jackson’s hand. One pouch was not going to solve their shortage, but it was something. Between it, the Nysillin, Soph’s herbs, and whatever else they could find, the trip was finally starting to look worthwhile. Assuming they survived shopping. Jackson glanced back toward Sophelia and gave her a look that was equal parts gratitude and annoyance at how perfectly her earlier warning had aged.

“I did not do anything stupid.”

His eyes dropped briefly to the man still nursing the hand he had punched into Soph’s barrier.

“Technically.”

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Vendaxa

Equipment:
Vanguard Robes | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | Tic

Ace listened as Sira explained that the entire process was completely sanitary. The beans were cleaned. The rest could be used as fertilizer. Nothing about it was technically wrong. He still couldn't get past where they came from though.

His gaze shifted toward Sira when she offered him snacks from her garden if he got hungry. "Thanks." Ace said with a small nod.

The fact she grew her own food reminded him of Corazona von Ascania a little. She'd always had a knack for things that cultivated and sustained life rather than fighting over it. Apparently Sira did too.

Her response to his observation drew a faint tug from the corner of his lip. She'd identified plant life from a flyover, analyzed the soil composition, practically lit up at the sight of a Gexari, explained its digestive system to him in considerably more detail than he'd ever wanted, talked about befriending one, mentioned growing her own food and was currently wandering around Vendaxa looking for a specific root. Yes. She seemed pretty passionate.

Ace followed when Sira suddenly spotted what she'd been searching for. She hurried toward the Banda root and nearly caught her foot against a rock along the way. He shook his head, Ace was beginning to understand why Ala had sent the two of them together.

He stopped nearby while Sira crouched beside the plant, watching as she carefully worked it free from the surrounding earth. Once she'd examined the exposed roots and confirmed what she'd found, Ace nodded.

"'Kay."

His attention wandered while she collected her samples. Dark eyes moved across the surrounding vegetation before settling farther southeast, toward where the cave should've been. Sira's question brought his attention back. Ace looked at her for a moment, then away again.

"I don't know." His gaze returned toward the direction of the cave. "Fixing things. Training. Helping people. I guess."

The answer sounded considerably less enthusiastic than anything Sira had demonstrated so far. Ace started walking again once she'd finished collecting her samples, continuing southeast toward the cave Sira had spotted earlier. It wasn't long before he felt something change.

At first, Ace couldn't identify it. A faint pressure somewhere beneath everything else. His pace slowed slightly. Then came the whispers. Not voices exactly. More like thoughts brushing against the edge of his own, familiar in a way he didn't particularly like. Something ahead was stirring the connection he'd spent too long pretending he'd mastered. The dark side.

Months ago, that would've been enough to make him push against it. Smother it. Pretend he couldn't hear anything until the effort of ignoring it became almost as consuming as listening. Briana had taught him differently.

Ace inhaled slowly through his nose. He didn't chase the whispers or fight them. He simply let them exist somewhere beyond the quiet he'd learned to find, allowing them to pass without following wherever they wanted to lead him.

"You feel that?"

His head turned toward Sira, studying her expression for a moment. He didn't know if whatever was reaching for him was something she could sense too, or if it was finding him because of his own history with the dark side.

"Something's ahead of us." His gaze shifted back toward the direction of the cave.

Then Ace rested his hand near his lightsaber without drawing it.

"You still want to keep going?"

Sira Esmeray​

 

[Guinevere Cavello]

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Guinevere watched as the king agreed to set up a meeting and then practically dragged the other woman off. She wondered if this was for her impropriety or if there was some relationship between them she did not understand. Either way it was certainly different than how the royal family of Avenar did things. She knew the common people of Avenar were very different as well and that the gender norms were not so strict outside of royalty, but as Gwen had never been allowed to really visit those people this was all she truly knew.

She turned by to Lyraen and returned the other woman's smile, but was not sure how to respond to the question so she simply shrugged her shoulders slightly and politely changed the subject.

"So how have things been for you? I haven't seen you in ages."

Wearing: x | Tags: Lyraen Solari References: Rue Aurelian Veruna

 

[Kuhbee]

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Location: Market
Equipment: Translation Droid | Lightsaber | Jedi Robes |
Tags: Jackson Lesan Sophelia Ardemark Chiassa Rathir

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"Kuhbee, calm down!"

"Kuhbee, stop!"

The voices of his friends reached the young Wookiee through the haze of his anger, but his enormous feet continued to pound the ground. He was not a mutt! He was a Wookiee! A Jedi! And he was going to make absolutely certain that the stupid, mean, ugly man knew it!

STOMP!

STOMP!

"EVERYBODY STOP!"

Jackson's voice boomed over the commotion, carrying with it just enough weight through the Force to finally break through Kuhbee's tantrum. The little Wookiee froze mid-stomp, one enormous foot suspended a few inches above the ground. His ears twitched, and he slowly lowered it back to the dirt.

For the first time since losing his temper, Kuhbee actually looked around.

Oh.

Ohhhhh no.

Broken jars littered the ground, their contents spilling into the dirt. Several crates had overturned, and the stall itself was leaning at a rather concerning angle. There were people on the ground, too! Chiassa was on her bottom, Rathir was covered in something sticky, and poor Jackson was holding up part of the stall while trying to keep everyone from murdering each other.

All because of him.

Kuhbee's shoulders sank. His ears drooped into his fur, and his great shaggy head hung so low that his chin nearly touched his chest. A tiny, miserable whimper escaped him. He hadn't meant to do any of that. He had just wanted the bacta. He had wanted to help his friends, and Jackson had even been proud of him! Now look what he'd done.

Noticing Jackson struggling with the counter, Kuhbee hurried forward. He spotted a large, heavy supply box nearby and scooped it up with both arms. With a little shuffling and a rather ungraceful shove, he slid it beneath the sagging counter until the weight of the stall rested securely on top of it. He gave it one cautious nudge to make certain it would hold without anyone having to stand there.

There. At least he could fix something.

"Rrrrrrrooooooouuuuuuu..."

The pitiful moan that followed was about as far removed from his earlier ferocious roaring as one could possibly get. Kuhbee looked from Jackson to Rathir, then over at Chiassa and Soph, before promptly dropping his gaze to his enormous feet. He was embarrassed. He felt guilty. Most of all, he was ashamed that his friends had needed to shout at him to stop.

He opened his mouth to offer another apologetic little whine, but the stall owner apparently had heard quite enough Wookiee for one lifetime.

"YOU KIDS GET OUT!" the man bellowed, throwing his arms toward the street. "JUST TAKE YOUR WOOKIEE AND YOUR BACTA AND LEAVE! NOW!"

Kuhbee winced.

His ears sank even lower.

"Rrrr..."

He didn't need a translator for that one.