Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Act I: Sands of Time

Orn'komad

Fast Talking Face Reader
Orn'komad apologized profusely to his STAP pilot before dashing after @[member="Praetor Kaa"]. If the Infinite Empire has come for the Architect, the King must have agreed to shelter him longer. Interesting. I wonder how influential we were in that decision.
He didn't quite catch up to @[member="Akala"] and @[member="Praetor Kaa"] before they entered the throne room. His momentum carried him in, but he stopped short not three feet inside the door. Slowly he walked forward, staring in horror at the unnaturally still bodies of the rulers. A tear formed in his eye. Farewell, your majesties. I wish I had known you as long as you appear to have known me. He looked to Akala and the... Force-user, almost approaching them but deciding he would be of little help. Best not to patronize her. I hope I never have to understand what she's going through. Instead, he slowly approached Kaa. "Praetor," he said quietly, trying not to look at the bodies, "I think it's time for you to tell us what we missed."

@[member="Alexandra Cinthra"]
 
MAIN GROUP

Gerion didn't remember how he came to the palace gardens. He had absolutely no idea how to fly a STAP and certainly wouldn't degrade himself by latching to the back of some nameless, sub-species who did. Whatever the case, he entered the palace after everyone else. There was apparently a battle going on, but Gerion could care less. The citizens of this city meant absolutely nothing to him. If they couldn't help him exit this abysmal period in history, then they were irrelevant. The party bumbled into the palace like the uncouth band of miscreants they were, stumbling upon a scene of absolute carnage.

Royal guards were sprawled everywhere, mercilessly cut down by a strike force that seemed to have since left. Amid the carnage were the mangled corpses of the King and Queen, clutching each other futilely. Tyrin was torn between describing the situation as droll or pathetic. Given how miserably the Kwa failed to defend their monarchs, then maybe droll was the best bet. Tyrin had a dreadfully hard time caring about the deaths of these two simpletons and their royal cohorts, as they had already declared they were near-useless. The fact that they had not left the palace for a more secure place made their deaths not the least bit surprising.

Tyrin rolled his eyes as the diminutive Jedi Shadow darted past him, uttering something so melodramatic it simply came off as idiotic. Maybe someday the Jedi would remember that vengeance wasn't in their whole shtick. But that day was not today. Tomorrow wasn't looking good either.

Tyrin checked his watch, wondering when he would be time-warped again. For Akala, this was the worst day in her life. This was the day her parents had been slain and disgraced by invaders; her homeworld destroyed. This was a turning point in her history, no doubt. It would leave her scarred for the rest of her days, becoming a fundamental part of who she was.

But for Tyrin, this was Tuesday.
 
Antares came into the throne room with no weapons, just his robes. He saw @[member="Akala"] on the floor, and @[member="Praetor Kaa"]. The Praetor had chased after her into the Throne Room hadn't he. "Praetor, where is the Celestial?" He asked. He couldn't comfort the girl about her parents, her family, not that he truly wanted to. From what he had seen, she must have done this...

Blood dripping from the walls...Akala screaming at him. Quite a sight, and the expression on his face was quite grim. "Akala. You are the one who caused this." He said softly as he came up closer to her. There was no accusing tone, just a slow gait and a pointed out fact. He wasn't proud of it, especially if he were wrong, but she would have to be causing many problems in the future. How else could she have teleported him for a split second and then send him back to the Throne Room without anyone realizing it.
 
When she had finally caught up @[member="Akala"], she paused in her tracks, seeing the child on her knees. Her mismatched gaze moved ahead, lifeless bodies came to her sight. Slowly, Satara walked forward, getting a better look of the sight but careful not to disrupt the Princess in her process. She could see now. King Oa and Queen Naala were together, seated, embracing each other. They were gone. The scene was that more intensified by the smoke that came out of their forehead.

The Witch sighed. Death was not foreign to her. Dathomir had yet to face the battles Satara had experienced in her past. There was no point of thinking about it, her past was her past. However, there was a child that had just witnessed her parents dead. Satara turned to look at the girl, only to see her curled up into anto a ball.

@[member="Alexandra Cinthra"] was already at the girl's side talking about her own experiences. Satara joined them, kneeling down next to the two the before she sat down to the side. "Give her a moment. It's important to grieve," the Witch said quietly to the woman beside her. Talking about own experiences now was no use to Akala. While she could understand the woman wanted to help but at least a few moments, even if that was all the war allowed, were important right now.

The sound of the male, @[member="Antares Windu"], made her snap her head at him. "Stop. Right now," the Witch ordered, her eyes shifting to the dead King and Queen and then looked back at the man. She wouldn't mention it out loud right for the sake of the Princess but her parents were dead. He wasn't helping. Her head turned back to the girl, her fingers gently moving over her hair for few seconds. "Sssh. It's okay. Just shut them all out." She looked up again, glaring at the man one more time before she focused back on the woman beside her and the Princess.
 
@[member="Satara Hawk"] @[member="Praetor Kaa"] @[member="The Architect"] @[member="Akala"]

Good. Hawk was handling Akala. Kaa was being ignored. Great. He stepped in front of Kaa. He looked to the rest of them. "Kaa," he said, doing his best to remain calm. "We are here. Now what?" He said coolly. Gerion could keep sulking. He was sick of this crap show. Someone want to play them. Well, he'd play his hand then. "They're dead, Praetor. Now," he said calmly, "it is time for some answers. Someone is going to talk, and they are going to do so now."

In a sense, he was jealous of the two dead bodies on the throne. Dying in the arms of someone you loved...a small mercy in this hell, he supposed. Still, he'd been where Kaa was. He'd watched his hoe get burned to dust, lacking the power to stop it. And now, he saw it through the eyes of another. It was irritating. He'd stay calm, and cool, even though part of him wanted to jump off half-cocked like Vulpesen. Part of him wanted to scream at whomever dragged him here. He was fething madder than the chaos itself. He'd end this soon enough. But first, he'd do something tricky and clever. He took off his Templar insignia, focusing energy on it, and dropped on the ground. A landmark. A traceable landmark in time. He'd come back here, to Dathomir, to this fallen throne. He was an archaeologist--maybe this civilization would tell us more after its demise than during.

He sighed, looking to Kaa. "You and Akala are the only commanders left. She's queen, but she's in mourning. You're Praetor. What happens next?"
 
Antares turned his head to look at, @[member="Satara Hawk"] and he shook his head. "I apologize for my harshness of course, but if you saw what she did, you would think the same." He said. His words spoke the truth, "she teleported me away from the throne room for only a few moments, just to say...'the past hasn't changed.' And then it was over." It was quite evident that the listless demeanour of the Jedi Knight was being aggravated and peeled back to reveal the distress he was feeling. Any who were quite tied to the Force, or just blatantly powerful in the Force would notice that he was telling the truth, ((since force is op like that)) and he took one step forwards.

"I will explain it to you." He said, after he made eye contact with the Witch. "All of you." And then his gaze flickered over the whole of the Main Group. "When there is time." And he expected @[member="Akala"] to explode, or at least, the @[member="Praetor Kaa"] to refuse his accusations.
 
"My gods...."

The Praetor looked to @[member="Vorhi Alestrani"], then to @[member="Satara Hawk"]. He approached @[member="Antares Windu"] before he said anything and dragged him to the side.

"Not now, you fool."


Orn'komad said:
Orn'komad apologized profusely to his STAP pilot before dashing after @[member="Praetor Kaa"]. If the Infinite Empire has come for the Architect, the King must have agreed to shelter him longer. Interesting. I wonder how influential we were in that decision.
He didn't quite catch up to @[member="Akala"] and @[member="Praetor Kaa"] before they entered the throne room. His momentum carried him in, but he stopped short not three feet inside the door. Slowly he walked forward, staring in horror at the unnaturally still bodies of the rulers. A tear formed in his eye. Farewell, your majesties. I wish I had known you as long as you appear to have known me. He looked to Akala and the... Force-user, almost approaching them but deciding he would be of little help. Best not to patronize her. I hope I never have to understand what she's going through. Instead, he slowly approached Kaa. "Praetor," he said quietly, trying not to look at the bodies, "I think it's time for you to tell us what we missed."

@[member="Alexandra Cinthra"]
"The Rakatan people...they've gone mad for this...Architect. The King was sending him away, the Architect was leaving our lands, but a general Lukaric of the Rakatan people.... they invaded. They were prepared....far too quickly for us to mount much of a resistance."

A tear rolled down Kaa's face as he crossed his right arm to his left shoulder.

"My King..."

He bowed in silence for a second, until an explosion in the distance rattled him. He turned to @[member="Gerion Ardik"].

"We must keep moving. We cannot linger."
 
Ignoring the group and Kaa, Akala erupted to her feet and began barreling towards the throne. Her hand smashed against a gemstone embedded at the arch at the highest point of the throne, and the floor opened up beneath her, the throne receding into the wall.​
She dropped, disappearing from view, into a chamber below.​
 
Antares watched as he was pulled to the side by the Praetor, and then he saw Akala running. Monster. Were the words that echoed in his mind and he sped after her. And by the time she got there, the Throne was gone and @[member="Akala"] was gone, but she wouldn't be disappearing alone, and the Jedi Knight leapt in after her, feet first.

He could only wonder if it would be the same room as the last time.
 

Orn'komad

Fast Talking Face Reader
Orn nodded slowly at @[member="Praetor Kaa"]'s response. It made sense, unfortunately. He was about to ask how long it had been - the description made it seem that the King had indeed banished the Architect, but that he hadn't had time to leave - when @[member="Akala"] jumped up. He blinked in surprise as she rushed the throne, and again as she dropped out of sight. He looked at Kaa, non-existent eyebrows raised, then rushed to the hole to peer down.
 

Alexandra Feanor

The Lady in Silver/Grey Historian
Alexandra bolted after @[member="Antares Windu"], having followed Akala slowly up until the point that the Jedi who acted like a Sith chased after her. Her hands gripped her sabers as she herself jumped into and down the hole, using the force to cushion whatever landing would come as a result of following @[member="Akala"]. The Praetor's words sounded, and while she wished she could gloat about the fact that she had warned them that the Rakata were a bloodthirsty race, she had much more important things to do like keep the only living heir to the Kwa's Empire from getting herself killed.
 
@[member="Vulpesen"] @[member="Gerion Ardik"] @[member="Praetor Kaa"]

Vorhi Alestrani witnessed as one scene of regicide dropped a decent portion of the room's IQ by about half. Crap. Okay, Alexandra could talk down the Mr. Tall dark, and unable to to keep his thoughts to himself. He had to handle the other. But first, he nodded to Gerion. "Gerion, we need to talk at some point after this mess is resolved. Remind me of that. Have one of your subordinates send me a message or something."


He ran to Vulpesen sighing aiming to grab his shoulder. "Stop it, kid. This is not our war. One death now could mean millions later. You wish to enact genocide on an entire timeline because of this one sin of the Infinite Empire? Do you want that vengeance of yours to burn the sky for generations to come? Or do you want to start acting like a Jedi, calm down, and help us sort this mess out like grown-ups?" He didn't flinch as he said it. No holding back, not this time. And if the kid didn't stop, he have to do this his way. And his way was unpleasant. And involved broken bones and walls.
 
Vulpesen's head snapped around, catching @[member="Vorhi Alestrani"] with a hard glare. "I have worked with the Aing-Tii and with them, I learned that the force will always find its true path. No matter what I do, it will not o turn make a difference in the future." His words were sharp but his eyes revealed some of the pain he himself held. There was no way he was as hurt as @[member="Akala"], but even he fond such deaths to be disturbing. Preparing to once again turn and continue on his way, he felt a small tug on his ear, followed by a low growl. "Ace lets g-" A sharp bark made him wince as the Ashlan wolf stood his ground and continued pulling on the wear in an attempt to turn his bond-mate around. To an outsider, Vulpesen would then seem to have something of a staring contest with the wolf, but to a user of the force, they would be able to sense the indecipherable current moving between the two.

"We don't have time for this"
"These people need you. You have a head on your shoulders that can think clearly in times like these. I've seen you do it. DO IT NOW!"
"Those things deserve to fall."
"And they will. You said it yourself. The force will set things right."
"Those people need justice!"
"Then give it to them right! You're a jedi, not some blood thirsty sith!"

On the last words, Vulpesen's eyes would widen slightly. Shutting down his saber, Vulpesen looked down, ashamed of his recklessness. "You're right." Everyone would hear the final words. For a few moments, Vulpesen gathered himself before his head snapped back up. "What needs to be done?


@[member="Praetor Kaa"]
 
MAIN GROUP

@[member="Vulpesen"] | @[member="Vorhi Alestrani"]

Tyrin rolled his eyes as Vorhi gave the Jedi whelp a reality check. Frankly, he could have saved them all the trouble by just killing him. A Jedi who couldn't keep himself composed was little more than an unreliable hindrance. He dismissed Vorhi's request for a meeting afterwards. It was debatable the two of them would even remember the request being issued. It seemed at any point nearly a decade of their memories could be wiped out completely. This could only lead Gerion to think in terms of the here and now. Presently, the Jedi nimrod needed to be corrected again. Then Akala needed to be followed after, since she was apparently the protagonist of this moronic, dull theatrical production.

"We have absolutely no way of determining whether or not we are, in fact, traveling through time. If it so happens that we are, then everything we do here will have an impact on the future." Gerion said as he walked on by, heading for the hole Akala had just jumped down. "If you think it won't, you are a blithering fool simply seeking justification to do whatever you want here. I would advise you kill yourself immediately if you truly believe the nonsense you've spurted. It will save us all the trouble of a grim future."

What trying times these were when a supposed Jedi exercised less caution and understanding than a Sith. Tyrin peered down the hole to see if there was a visible floor and to subsequently gauge the depth of it. The faster they kept moving through this travesty, the sooner Tyrin could return to doing work that actually mattered. He would also have to find a few Jedi to kill in his free time, if only for therapeutic reasons.
 
Okay, so Vulpesen's pet wolf just stopped him from being a moron. Fine. Good enough. It didn't matter who he listened to, as long as he did. Aang-Tii? A bunch of monks who couldn't be hutt-butted enough to leave their own planet, and he was using it to justify running around on a roaring rampage of revenge? Clever. Ego-ridden and entirely ridiculous, but clever.

Vorhi nodded calmly. "Gerion's right," he said calmly. "None of us know a single blasted thing about what this obnoxious escapade actually is, or how in fething hell it works. We can't just assume a lack of of consequences because it fits our narrative in how the force works. Now, if I have to beat one of you into a coma simply to demonstrate the severity of the situation, I will. And Gerion will point and laugh, based on his lack of sympathy for anyone that isn't him, and the fact that he agrees that burying you beats altering space and time. I have grown tired of holding some of your hands on this field trip. Any of you lot--Jedi, Sith, Warlock, Mercenary, I don't rightly care for nomenclature right now--try something dumb again, I'm injuring someone. No remorse. No regret. No more cuddly warnings. I'm a diplomat, but I'm not letting you destroy history and time's integrity for the sake of diplomacy," he said coolly. He'd devoted most of his life to history, and these bickering younglings acted like they knew everything about it with no sources or discussions.

It was hard to read Vorhi usually, as the hat and blindfold covered his face, and his typical tone was one of harmless, grandfatherly, or or at least mentor-like affableness. He seemed, to most, harmless, quite by his own intention. However, right now, he had a frown set upon him that could cut stone, baring his canines in a way that most rancors couldn't while he spoke. A younger, more hostile Vorhi was speaking--the bellicose ruffian who would punch his way through an entire evening without so much as a shrug. There were no jokes, but the aura was...ominous at best. Dark or Light, it was obvious that Vorhi was currently tired of playing gentle with his unlistening audience.

(OOC: don't take it personally, Vorhi's annoyance is all IC, I promise ^_^ )
 

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