Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Can't hold us down [Rebels!]

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The call had gone out. The galaxy was shifting, and with the formation of the new empire of Sith, it was shifting fast. That was why the messages were sent. Sending down the contact chains that were established, through Underground Networks, Alliance Networks, hell, even a Jedi network, calls went out. Captains, and leaders were requested, an in-person meeting was needed. A shadowport’s coordinates were sent out and the location selected.

Rebel’s Rest, a small cantina, quiet and out of the way, on a Shadowport between the Core and the Outer Rim Coalition space. Small ships were told to come, and all rebels of various cells that people had contact with were to be informed. Ships could arrive and dock at the Spear of the Alliance, and take a shuttle over, or dock directly with the Shadowport.

The port was Dark Slide, more named for a pilot’s need to be able to pull yourself out from hyperspace at the right point. A navigational trick, of being off to the side and away from a standard navigation track, you had to really know where it was in order to get there. It was given its name because as it wasn’t linked into any planet, or sun’s gravity, it was dark, painted black, and with a low-sensor anti-reflective surface, the station was very hard to detect until someone had the forethought to use more visual scanning and find exacting heat resources. There were lights outside, but most were dim and gave the impression of low power.

But now? Ships would be arriving. Those quick flashes of a ship reverting to real space, and the dark navy hulled vessel, Spear of the Alliance was sitting off to the side of the station, placing itself in low power mode, but the gold-and-red emblazoned Starbird of the Galactic Alliance remained on her port side. She was accepting docking rights for anyone using the proper signals, and was providing an anchor of sorts of any frigates or corvettes that entered the system.
Recently updated with jamming technology, she would be further enhancing the protection by nearly providing a masked void. Not really preventing excess transmissions but working to remove any that were coming out of the station and the ships nearby. Though the transmissions could be sent into it. Fleet tenders were moving VIPs from their ships to the Dark Slide. Smaller vessels were given docking rights as this Shadowport did accept a few dozen ships on a daily basis.

An oasis in the stars.

Once aboard the station, the rebels who arrived would find their way to the Rest and escorted by whoever was around into a back room. They’d be greeted by others who answered the call, and making his rounds would be the Jedi General, and one of the leaders of the former Alliance, Coren Starchaser, spacer dress, lightsaber on one hip, blaster pistol on the other. He’d give them some time to relax and get a drink. He knew how Rebels were, they came for the cause, but they would scatter to the winds just as fast. A government could keep them together only so long. But you gave them a focus? And you had a team.

He was hoping to provide the latter. No recruitment, just come-as-you-are. And to see what people were up to. The Jedi Master was here as a member of the Underground, as a soldier, and striker against the darkness. Today, he was mixing with the other Rebels, and seeing what they were up to

OOC: Objectives are mostly chit chatting, helping to establish a network of rebels, and settle on a target for the freedom fighters to hit.

Lets make it fun!
 

Lyra Sunfell

Guest
L
[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Sol Stazi"]

"Twilight's on leave until the conference ends," Lyra said, strapping a sidearm to her waist as she prepared to depart the corvette that Twilight used as their mobile headquarters. "Have everyone keep their coms on. Anything shows up, recall the company."

"Understood," the answer came. Lyra finished cinching down her gear and striding out into the shadowport. Scoundrels of all sorts filled the shadowport, but this time, they were her kind of scoundrels. Rebels and renegades, anti Sith and anti-Imperial resistance fighters. Those motivated by the ideas of freedom, liberty, and lives left unimpeded by the oppression of the Dark Side.

Underground agents, Outback Judges, old Alliance soldiers, probably some SIS spooks. They always had a way of finding their way in. A few of the old Alliance soldiers saluted as passed, and she returned the salute, before passing on to the meeting place.

"Starchaser," Lyra said, coming up behind him, "Good to see you. Twilight stands ready."
 
A small freighter docked with the shadow port. It carried mostly locals or random spacer's, but one among them had come here with purpose in his step. He had heard the message and even sent out his own, hoping that more might respond to the call. The call of righteous Justice. He stared tentatively around the port searching for familiar faces or suspicious characters, but here everyone seemed shady. They were scoundrels from all walks of life united by a single cause. Freedom. It was incredible that so many had come to see the hand of tyranny end.

Truly Oda's heart swelled at the sight and he felt that just maybe they might stand a fighting chance against the Imperialist. He walked to the dimly lit bar and tapped the counter with his forefinger, whilst still watching the crowd around him. A one eyed Bothan who looked like he'd been to hell and back answered his tapping with a quick grab of the wrist. Oda chided himself for not being more alert. He tried to yank his arm backwards, but found the Bothan's vice to great. He turned Oda's arm around and found half a Starbird imprinted on Oda's wrist. Bringing up his own arm and rolling up his sleeve the Bothan layed out his arm so that the two halves made a whole.

"Hail friend," The Bothan said in a raspy growl.

Then the Bothan released Oda's arm and spun round to retrieve whatever lay in the cabinet behind him. Oda meerly blinked in surprise. He had been told their were secret messages the Rebels used and when he was given such a tattoo he hadn't the faintest idea why, but now it made sense. It marked him as friend. Certain cell's undoubtedly had their own ways of identifying one another, but the fact that Oda would find one from his own here was quite remarkable.The Bothan returned with a bottle of pungent smelling liquor and set it out for Oda. Oda simply stared at the bottle then looked back to the Bothan.

"Who are you?" He asked the Bothan, but the alien merely shook his head.

"Best we don't speak in names. Just call me bartender and I'll call you?" The bartender eyed Oda up and down curiously...

"The Wayfarer..." Oda spoke solemnly.

The Bartender nodded then took a long pull from the bottle set before Oda. While The Wayfarer wasn't opposed to drinking on the job, he was still unsure of trusting this Bothan. But, he accepted the bottle in good faith when it was offered to him. He took a long pull from the stuff and was immediately gratified with a nice buzz. He half wondered when the hazing ritual would begin. But, when he set the bottle down to regard the Bothan once more, he was already gone...
 
A transport jumped into the space of the shadow port, slipping in was an interesting payload. On the outside of the vessel was three Vulture Droid, all composing the mercenary ZFR-9EI. The three droid bodies separated from the transport, one grabbing a crate from the outside that housed the droid's fuel slugs. "The payment has been transferred. You may leave now." After saying this the transport left, leaving the three-in-one droid to finish his flight. Two of the fighters, including the one with the slugs, flew towards the Spear of the Alliance while his prime hull went inside Dark Slide.

One of the droid's secondary bodies sent a message to the starship. "Vessel. This is ZFR-9EI. Permission to land my secondary bodies with your vessel while my primary body enters the port." If granted, the pair of droid fighters would land, with the one carrying its cargo dropping the crate in a corner.

Meanwhile, the Zeffer's primary body flew slowly through the shadow port, finding the cantinia Rebel's Rest. The droid slowed down, unfurling his legs to land and close as he could before walking up. The droid did his best to look inside, trying to find the correct comms channel to get at least one of the Rebels within the place. Once he was sure he found it, the droid spoke in his creepy, monotone voice. "This is ZFR-9EI, or Zeffer. I would enter, but the building was not designed the starfighters in mind."

[member="The Wayfarer"] [member="Lyra Sunfell"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]
 
Lieutenant Commander Cartwright had been back with the Alliance-in-Exile for a few days now, having joined up with the Spear of the Alliance before it headed rimward from the Core to the rendezvous point with the other "rebels" at the designated shadowport called Dark Slide. It was good be home and with family, well kinda.

The XO of Rogue Squadron had been on Corellia ever since the battle to free the planet and system from the Sith Empire. After Ava's EVA during the furball, she had been on medical leave recuperating from injuries received on [member="Dracken Pryce"]'s homeworld and spending time with the Corellian naval officer as he transitioned out of the Alliance navy into the Republic's with a promotion no less.

She would miss the Starchild, but more so its commanding officer as Dracken had chosen to make a difference in the fight against the dark side on a different path from hers, and theirs. Duty before pleasure as the saying went, though it didn't mean the two close compatriots, well more than that now, wouldn't somehow stay connected when time and circumstance allowed.

Walking into Rebel's Rest, it was your typical spacer's cantina with a varied mix of patrons. Goldie was wearing a nondescript belted tunic jacket, fitted trousers tucked into short boots with two holstered blaster pistols strapped off her shapely hips and tied off onto her tone thighs.

The Ralltiir's steel blue gaze spotted two familiar faces after going into the backroom, then moved over to them.

"As are Rogues, well this one at least," the tall blonde shrugged flashing a lopsided grin to Jed Master [member="Coren Starchaser"] and [member="Lyra Sunfell"], the CO of Twilight Company, offering her right hand, the new one, in greeting and solidarity for the cause.

[member="ZFR-9EI"] | [member="The Wayfarer"]​
 
[member="Xin Boa"] | Rebel's Rest |



"What happened to keeping an eye over our shoulder and our friends on the other end of the comlink? Now we're answering a hail for rebels?"


In some ways it felt as if they might be walking into a join the cause! sales pitch directed towards mercenaries and soldiers and bleeding hearts scattered throughout the 'verse. Delila was making assumptions based on the little information Xin had passed along to her. She personally knew little of Starchaser, beyond he was part of or a leader of a Rebel Alliance not long ago. Been there, done that.


"We've got Horne still in the rearview. Duros brothers waiting for the right time to find us again. Do we really want to stir the pot and add in a third enemy for us?"


Delila was playing a bit of devils advocate. They were already at Rebel's Rest with plans to meet secretly with who knew what other 'rebels' out there. She had every plan to hear the pitch or news or time share request that was about to happen. Xin knew it too. Knowing that they were always looking out for one another was part of what made them work together so well.


"I just have some concerns is all. Probably because I'm old and cynical at this point."
 
A blond man, head down and hands stuffed in pockets skulked around the shadowport, taking idle steps before slipping inside the Rest, a scene familiar to him almost. A reminder of his time in the Alliance's military. Fresh out of boot camp, he and his mandalorian compatriot sloshed themselves upon cheap booze and even cheaper liquor. This sort of place had a specific stench to it, a mix of sweat, grime, and and gun-toting scoundrels. His kind of folk.

Sliding a few credits onto the counter the man procured a bottle of some swill before disappearing into the backroom with others. Standing there he straightened his back and presented himself a bit more formally. This man was the spitting image of an Alliance Pathfinder, uniform and all, though covered in dirt, mud, and other detritus. A man of fine mandalorian stock, if such a thing existed, a weapon for war, though his slight frame betrayed such a thought.

Cenn merely raised a hand to the others before taking a hearty swig of the bottle, face souring at the decisions which lead up to this point. He tried to project himself as a gritty, nails-for-breakfast, sort of special forces soldier you would find in the holovids. In reality he was merely a poor actor. The words vandal, fool, and agitator fit him more than rebel or revolutionary.

In his hand he moved an old Alliance credit between various fingers, a tick to settle the nerves. "I'm here."

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="The Wayfarer"]
 
"I hear yuh," Xin murmured back. "Dat command ship makes me nervous."

Xin had said as much as the Crimson Dahlia had drifted in towards the shadow port. A small group of freedom fighters might not have attracted all that much attention. However, an ex-alliance command cruiser would have certainly garnered some interest from those coming and going. No one would sell out the location of the shadowport, but there would probably plenty of agents out there who would pay to know where it had been seen.

Fate had a habit of knocking them down a few pegs when they were feeling safe. They didn't feel safe, but Xin didn't trust the universe not to take this opportunity to mix up its punishments.

"Yuh can do the talking, I'll keep watch," Xin said. He had always been a good lookout. He could sense people's moods as they shifted which often heralded trouble. Unless they were dealing with professional killers - which had been the case far too often for his liking.
 

Frielle Kinniak

Guest
F
Dark Slide



Rebel's Rest

Frielle arrived with the Qi'ra, having since scraped and scratched the ANS off of her hull. She took the Qi'ra with her when it all went down, hid out with the Corellian Confederation before making the jump to the Southern Systems. She had just left Delta IV when she got the call, the Alliance-in-Exile pilot hauled herself across the stars. Dark Slide wasn't the easiest place to get to and to be honest it took Firelle a minute or two to get it down right. When she arrived the sight of Spear of the Alliance was something to behold, the pilot hadn't seen it up front, sure she'd served on a big boat or two but this one always held that special place in her heart. She navigated the Qi'ra into a free hangar and opted for the shuttle ride down to the cantina.

Rebel's Rest, aptly named she thought while tugging at her blue leather jacket. She declined a drink for now, after all, she stocked her boat up already with plenty of booze from Delta IV. The Lux was awful generous with their liquor. It helped that the Vicelord havin' gone missing caused a bit of a stir, still it was always nice to make off with a few good bottles. She was guided into the backroom, where she found herself with a few others. Starchaser was certainly a face she'd seen before, if only from a distance never knew the man personally. Just whatever was played on the broadcast stations, and then rogue squadron's commander was another sight to behold.

She knew more of the commander than anything, sure Frielle had been placed with wraith squadron, but she figured that was more or less because she was fresh from the academy. In those times toward the end of the First Order-Galactic Alliance conflict from L-49 down. The Alliance needed more butts than they had to put into pilot seats, she was just lucky enough to get situtated into wraith. Dumb luck Frielle called it, and even now she'd still call it dumb luck. Everyone else here were strangers as far as the Corellian knew, she gave one or two a small nod of acknowledgment but settled into a corner somewhere behind the rogue squadron commander.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Ava Cartwright"] | [member="Cenn Kothari"] | [member="ZFR-9EI"] | [member="The Wayfarer"]
 
[member="Xin Boa"] | Rebel's Rest |


"So it will be like you're my own personal bodyguard? Any excuse to break out the muscles and show off."


Delila started to unbuckle herself as they drifted into the shadowport. Maybe it was their string of incredibly bad luck but she didn't like the idea of heading into a small,enclosed space with a bunch of other shady characters. Crimson Dahlia shuddered as it entered its docking space, causing her to shift around in the cockpit. Clearly she had skipped the lesson on waiting until fully stopped to stand up and move around.


"I would say we place a wager on how badly this will go south but I feel we are both in agreement on that front. Instead lets just keep our eyes and ears open. If things look rough we're out the door faster than both of us can say 'lets go'."


Blaster was collected,checked and double checked. Ship was left in a position to get them out in a hurry if needed. Spare weapons hidden.


"Alright Captain Boa, lets see what this meeting is all about."
 
Zeffer gave a nod to every rebel that walked by into the cantina. Sometimes being such a large droid was a major disadvantage, particularly when you were trying to speak with people that were entering somewhere you just couldn't fit. Sure, many droids could go off and do things without being noticed, but he was a scrapping Vulture Droid! How in the shadow port did no one seem to notice he was there. He was the size of a small starfighter. ZFR couldn't think of a logical explanation for it. Then again, he couldn't really see what was going on inside, or get anyone to respond to his primary body. The droid backed up, trying to get a decent view inside the Rebel's Rest.

[member="Delila Castillon"] [member="Frielle Kinniak"] [member="Xin Boa"] [member="Cenn Kothari"] [member="Ava Cartwright"] [member="The Wayfarer"] [member="Lyra Sunfell"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]
 
Kei was somewhere doing Kei things, like not shaving, failing to dress well or hold his liquor. The usual. He’d got the message, and dropped on by the bar, tipping a large fedora hat a crewmate had given him. Not parting with the hat without some debate. The grey hat hid the steadily greying hair, but not the flicks of silver stubble. He pulled on up at the bar, brown jacket, black-shirt, far too many rim miles on his boots and ship for that matter, the dogtags always jingling beneath it all.

Nice scar down his cheek these days, a visible limp to his walk, and however many patches up across his skin, probably looking like a walking cliché if he had his t-shirt off. Thankfully, for everyone concerned, his t-shirt was well and truly on. The Jedi Master ordered a Corellian whiskey, just a touch of ice, enough to freeze his tongue and give him a kick. He didn’t drink much, just stirred the glass around looking at it. “Yep.” He said to the bartender, whatever private conversation they’d just had didn’t last long. As he turned there was his saber on show, clearly advertised, along with a pistol or two and a few other gadgets. Probably if you looked hard enough you see some armor beneath his clothes, but that was harder to spot.

“Interesting message.” He said to whoever was closest casually, taking a seat to scan his eyes across the room and see what he could see.
 

Petra Vitalis

Guest
P
The ubiquitous black and gold scarf that Petra wore when incognito was tied firmly in place, covering her face almost to the eyes. Had she been a reasonably well-known individual, this would not have been a terribly effective disguise, but given her relative unimportance in the scheme of galactic politics, it seemed to suit her quite well as she disembarked the small ship she had piloted to get to the summit. She wore her usual traveling garb of black trousers and waistcoat over a stark white blouse, all of which was shrouded by a long, broad-shouldered, high-necked coat -- navy blue on the outside and dark magenta in its lining, with gold embellishments on the edges and lapels. Also deployed were her calf-height leather boots. One was never quite fully dressed without them.

The young Galidraani checked her blaster was strapped on correctly before finding her way to the cantina. It seemed to be buzzing with activity and populated with many individuals, including a hulking droid.

Petra's eyes scanned the room as she approached the bar. She lifted a finger and requested a drink. As she waited for it to be prepared, she turned and leaned against the bar casually, continuing to examine the room. She wasn't sure what she was doing here, other than satisfying her curiosity. Her primary concern was Galidraan; it had fallen under Sith Imperial control, and her little group of rebels -- the Spector Club -- was primarily focused on harassing Sith Imperial efforts on the homeworld. Petra herself had been involved in some anti-First Order operations as well, with another rebel cell. Still, there was always more work to be done, so here she was. Maybe she could pick up some new contacts or a crew to run with here.

She collected her drink -- scotch on the rocks -- and paid the bartender before lifting it to her lips.
 
The ships were coming in. That was good. While Starchaser was known to be a high ranking Jedi in the galactic circuit, what he really was, first and foremost, was a rebel. He didn’t even fit into the Jedi ranks properly. Hell, it took him years under the tutelage of Omai Rhen and Jorus Merrill until he moved himself more from the military role exclusively, and into the ranks of the actual New Jedi Order. But that wasn’t what he was when the Alliance started. No. Coren Starchaser was a man who helped, in a number of turnovers on various worlds.

He’s planned strikes against Empires and the Sith. He hit the groups that were working against the freedoms of the galaxy. But today was one of the things he didn’t do well, but he knew it was something the galaxy needed. Previously he had Nemo Ven and Omai Rhen to assist with working with the various groups, the Protectorate, the various rebels, and the Jedi. He was there to help marshal them around and make sure everyone was where they felt they needed to be.

Here though? He had the former Chief of State’s staff around with him. Working as a General in the Alliance in Exile, and commanding perhaps the largest Roving Line, he had one of the largest groups within the Alliance between the various stations, including D’Qar. He preferred to keep on the move. And seeing some of his own people walking in, from Lyra, and Ava, representing two smaller units, to Cenn and Frielle who were operatives and soldiers within the old Alliance.

Porter had informed Coren of a message coming in from… outside.

“A droid starfighter?” He looked at her astromech. “You must’ve blown a circuit, buddy.” But when one of the incoming pilots confirmed that the General nodded. “Well, broadcast out to him, then.”

Looking around, he was seeing some new and old faces. That was good. A deep breath and he ran his hand through his hair. Seemed to be more and more people coming to the rebellion against the tyrants of the galaxy. Definitely a good thing. Take a step up to the front of the room, well, a side, whatever, he nodded. The others from his fleet, his ‘escort’ had stepped closer to the door. “Want to thank you all for, y’know, coming. So, as you all know, the galaxy has been turning. What I’m looking for, is to start a bit of a network. A way for us all to call for aid when we need it, and band together if we need it.” Because, they had to face it, the Sith Empire and First Order were controlling the majority of the galaxy.

“A way to get people and goods around, to where they are needed. We’ve seen whats happened. Coruscant, Commenor, all around the galaxy, governments are being trampled. What I am hoping to get out of this is a list of who, and it doesn’t have to be real names, is out there, and who is looking for help and who can provide it. Commanding a Roving Line, from the Alliance, allows me to help where needed, but I’m not the only one out there, we all have messages to send, and fights to take.”

The galaxy needed to change.

[member="Petra Vitalis"]
[member="Kei Amadis"]
[member="ZFR-9EI"]
[member="Delila Castillon"]
[member="Frielle Kinniak"]
[member="Xin Boa"]
[member="Cenn Kothari"]
[member="Ava Cartwright"]
[member="The Wayfarer"]
[member="Lyra Sunfell"]
 
Soon after his disastrous duel with the Sith lord Neoplix on Ossus, Alex had awoken to find himself in the brig of the Sith's ship somewhere in the confines of the Jen'ari Empire. It had taken considerable effort to escape after reclaiming his belongings and commandeering a small ship to make his way back to Republic territory. Now, several weeks later, he found himself answering the call of duty once again.

"You're a damned glutton for punishment, Alex StormWolf. No if, ands, or buts about it," he muttered to himself as the shadow port Dark Slide, slowly came into view. Maneuvering his vintage YT-1300 Shadow Runner into a vacant docking bay, Alex double checked the message he had received. Come To Dark Slide, Proceed to Rebel's Rest.

Alex had heard of Rebel's Rest a time or two during his travels, but had never actually set foot in the place, let alone the shadow port itself. Well, he'd certainly be rectifying that in a moment. Considering that this was supposed to be an incognito gathering, Alex thought it would be best to eschew his Republic Sentinel Knight garb for something a lot less conspicuous. Exiting the cockpit, Alex strode down the passageway towards his Captain's Suite, the luxurious on board bachelor's pad that he had constructed shortly after acquiring the ship. Crossing the room towards a wardrobe, Alex flung open the doors and reached for one of his signature hooded gray trench coats, a blast dampening body glove, a pair of sturdy boots, black fatigue pants with matching shirt, and a well used utility belt. Properly attired, Alex clipped his light sabers to his belt and slipped his SI-17 Stealth Blaster, issued to him when he joined the Republic Knights, into an underarm holster built into his coat.

Powering down his vessel, Alex exited and paused for a moment to get his bearings. Spying his destination, Alex walked towards Rebel's Rest. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting a moment as he entered, Alex made his way towards the bar. Tossing a few credits on the counter, he ordered a Corellian ale. Turning his back towards the bar, Alex sipped his drink and glanced at the growing crowd. He was fairly certain he hardly knew anybody here, with the exception of Coren Starchaser. Speaking of which, where was he hiding? Well, time enough to figure that out later.

Alex's right hand idly scratched at the old scar that ran down the right side of his face from his eyebrow to his chin, a constant reminder of the defeat suffered at the hands of a woman from his checkered past, as he scanned the crowd again, looking for Coren.

"Alright, I came all the way here like you asked for this little gathering, now where you hiding?"



@Coren Starchasher
 
Amadis’s days of fighting wars… were probably coming to a middle. His grin expanded a bit, then he pulled it back. The rim had left a rough edge to him, it often did walking into bars, speaking to shady people, meeting old friends in secret. Hey look, he was doing it again.

The Jedi Master, nodded and put his glass down. He didn’t drink much, he just liked the taste to wake him up. “Can do that. Know a few people, here and there.” Few thousand wildcards scattered about planet to planet, doing logistics, engineering, fetching and carrying or just long retired as he should probably be.

A very long time ago, he’d sat in a bar like this one and they’d formed a crusade. It had rid him of any delusions of grandeur and got a lot of people killed. Since then and everything that had come between, his teachers, the battles, the wounds, and conflicts, he’d mellowed a lot. Amadis would rather be sitting in an armchair listening to the patter of tiny feet, [member="Elara Amadis"] but kids were probably not in this old goat’s future.

Reluctantly Amadis got up from the stool, and walked over to [member="Coren Starchaser"]. “Alright” He grinned solidly and shook his hand if he took it. “Probably get me killed, but yeah,” couldn’t shake the guardian in him. Didn’t matter the miles on the clock, or the wear in the tires. "Alright." He'd make some calls, leaning into Coren he spoke quietly. "Just don't go telling them its anything it's not." He knew Coren by reputation, and he'd know what he meant. Heroes often died first, and idealism rarely survived the first battle.

With that Kei stepped away to the bar again to give him room.



[member="Coren Starchaser"]​
 
Xin had been to plenty of bars that used droid as security. Not one that used a confederate-style starfighter droid thought. If he came away with nothing else, it would be a thing that he could say that he had seen. Stories of strange and amusing sights were something of a currency among spacers.

Xin listened to what they had been assembled for. It gave him a great deal to think about. After what they had been through in the last few years he was more concerned about making sure the two of them could catch a break. Some simple transport jobs that didn't involve anyone getting shot at.

It wasn't always easy to walk away from a dire situation. Xin had been orphaned during the clockwork rebellion. He had seen his home world occupied at least once more. During his time with the refugee fleet he had told himself that he didn't grow attached to their plight, but it had never been quite true.

A secure channel wasn't the same as an agreement to provide aid at least. He turned towards Dells. They would need to talk about this, but he wanted to get a read on where she stood.
 
Zeffer listened to the transmission that was given to him, but he also recieved a message from the Metal Lords. They said that they would sponsor him if he stuck around and helped the Rebels. Hm.... He had already started to like these Rebels, so it wasn't necessarily a bad idea. The droid nodded to himself before turning back to look inside, or at least try since, again, he was way to tall to actually fit in the cantina. The droid continued to listen to [member="Coren Starchaser"] before hearing the man finish. Once the droid found an opening, he spoke through the transmission.

"I am ZFR-9EI, or Zeffer, representing the Metal Lords. I would speak with you face-to-face, but I am unable to fit within the building do my model of droid. Some droids still remember Kaeshana and wish to see it free again. We can provide any assistance that may be need."

[member="Xin Boa"] [member="Kei Amadis"] [member="Alex StormWolf"] [member="Petra Vitalis"] [member="Delila Castillon"] [member="Frielle Kinniak"] [member="Cenn Kothari"] [member="Lyra Sunfell"] [member="The Wayfarer"] [member="Ava Cartwright"]
 
Alex heard Coren speaking and realized he had probably walked right past him on his way to the bar. "Kark it! I'm getting rusty." Alex growled to himself, taking another sip of his ale.



Coren Starchaser said:
“Want to thank you all for, y’know, coming. So, as you all know, the galaxy has been turning. What I’m looking for, is to start a bit of a network. A way for us all to call for aid when we need it, and band together if we need it.” Because, they had to face it, the Sith Empire and First Order were controlling the majority of the galaxy. “A way to get people and goods around, to where they are needed. We’ve seen whats happened. Coruscant, Commenor, all around the galaxy, governments are being trampled. What I am hoping to get out of this is a list of who, and it doesn’t have to be real names, is out there, and who is looking for help and who can provide it. Commanding a Roving Line, from the Alliance, allows me to help where needed, but I’m not the only one out there, we all have messages to send, and fights to take.”

It wasn't a bad idea, overall, and Alex knew just the sort of person that would fit the bill. He waited until the others had spoken before adding his own offer.

"Tell you what Starchaser, I've got a buddy back on Tatooine, lives in Mos Eisley. He can help with transporting people and goods, procuring needed supplies; and he can doctor up some of the most convincing cover documents for people, ships and cargo I've ever seen. He's known as Mad Man Malcolm, and he's always had my back when I was out doing crazy things I shouldn't have been doing in the first place. I'll put in a call to him if you have an absolutely secure communications line I could borrow for a few minutes, and see if I can interest him in some steady work for a noble cause."

@Coren Starchasher
 

Lyra Sunfell

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L
Lyra leaned against the bar, head tilted as she listened, raising a hand in salute to [member="Ava Cartwright"]. Rouges and Twilight went way back, to the first Rebel Alliance. They had a long legacy to maintain and protect, which as far as Lyra was concerned, they had done a fine job. The war hadn't gone their way, but that wasn't on them. It's just how wars went. Win or lose, those were beyond her control. Best she could was ensure that Twilight survived and did their job.

So they had.

"Colonel Lyra Sunfell, 61st mobile infantry company," Lyra added, "Light infantry. Company strength. Can go anywhere in the galaxy to be where we're needed. Give us a mission and coordinates and it will be done."

She clacked the glass back on the bar and swung around. "And we're more than ready to dive in. Fought 'em all. One Sith. First Order. Sith Empire. It's what we do and what we signed on for."
 

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