Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Constructive Criticism : | Refuge [Event] (Farworlds Alliance)

Aren stayed exactly where she was for several seconds after the hold opened, perched on a cargo crate with her arms folded tightly across her chest. The posture wasn't helping her mood, but she seemed committed to it anyway. She looked every bit the part of someone who had been dragged somewhere under protest: battered leather jacket, plain white shirt half-hidden beneath the strap of a worn tool bag, faded jeans, scratched combat boots. It was an outfit meant for crawling under machinery, not visiting a settlement full of Jedi. Not that she was here for the settlement. Or the Jedi. Or whatever grand philosophical purpose everyone else insisted on assigning to this place.

When Omen glanced back at her, Aren met his eyes with the exhausted patience of someone who had already lost this argument several hyperspace jumps ago. "I'm here for you." The answer came immediately, without hesitation or qualification. She unfolded her arms just long enough to grab her tool bag and stand. "Not them." The addition carried far more weight than she intended. She stepped down from the crate and adjusted the strap over her shoulder, her gaze sweeping across the settlement beyond the ramp: workers, refugees, families, children, construction crews moving between half-finished structures. The sight complicated things, annoyingly so. It was difficult to remain entirely cynical when faced with people who were genuinely trying to build something. That didn't mean she had to enjoy being here. Or enjoy who was helping run it. "If they don't talk to me, all the better," she muttered as she brushed past Omen toward the ramp.

She paused at the edge, watching the activity below. Dust hung in the air. Machinery rumbled somewhere beyond the landing zone. Cargo containers vanished from transports almost as quickly as they arrived. The entire settlement felt like a place trying very hard to become permanent. Aren frowned at it, not because she disliked it, but because her attention inevitably drifted to the machinery. A heavy cargo lifter hauled prefab sections across the site while a cluster of labor droids unloaded containers nearby. One of the lifter's drive assemblies emitted a faint grinding vibration she could hear even from the top of the ramp. She frowned again. "That bearing is going to fail," she said under her breath. "Maybe two days if they're lucky." She hated when machines announced their problems from a distance.

Adjusting her tool bag, she finally started down the ramp. Despite all her complaints, she drifted closer to Omen as soon as they reached the crowds. Not because she was afraid, and certainly not because she needed protecting, but because standing near him dramatically reduced the number of strangers likely to attempt conversation. Her gaze shifted toward a line of construction droids moving cargo across the site. She watched them for several seconds before letting out a quiet, resigned sigh. "And whoever programmed those loaders needs help." The words carried the weary disappointment of a mechanic who had already identified her first repair job less than five minutes after arrival.

Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen @open (I want Aren to meet Novac Lyrikal Novac Lyrikal to talk droids when it makes sense)
 


TAGS: @ Jalen Kai'el Jalen Kai'el Vohm-Raet Vohm-Raet
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Tempo frowned, hearing the man say he had lost his way.

"That's alright. Lots of folks here probably feel like that… but at least everyone here has found one another. Community tends to help those who are lost…" he mused aloud, though it was perhaps a profound take from a desert hermit who often hated other people's company, and seemed to prefer the safety of loneliness in the middle of nowhere to the overwhelming social pressures of being part of a society.

Tempo's ears twitched as he listened to the two of them, glancing back and forth between the pair.

"Hmnn… I can't imagine a whole planet covered in water," he mused softly. "Yes, there's plenty of fresh food to be unloaded. I think someone with your stature could be quite helpful in getting it all moved. There are tons of seeds, too, enough to start new farms here, tucked away in some of the packages I peeked at."

"I wish I were taller and stronger… being so small and weak makes it hard to be taken seriously most of the time,"
he mused aloud, then hopped to one side before dusting off his hands, leaving the imposing figure with the fruit he'd offered, and tightening his pack straps.

"There's just so much to do… I've been kept practically exhausted by all the work Jalen has piled onto me," he said with a small nod.
 



Tags: Loomi Loomi
Sev made an odd face at that… Padawans?

Oh, joy.

He could already hear it: their incessant yapping about who was crushing on who, who had said what during drills, who had tripped over their own robes, who thought their training saber made them important. The idea alone made his eye twitch.

He rolled his eyes and carried the saplings out to where they would need to be planted, his grip firm around the bundled young trees. Dirt clung to the roots, damp and dark, smelling of rain and turned earth. He seemed to have no problem putting in the labor itself; if anything, the work gave him something better to do with his hands than fold his arms and look annoyed.

He set the saplings down with more care than his expression suggested, crouching beside the marked spots and pressing his thumb into the soil to test how soft it was.

"Padawans," he muttered under his breath, as though the word itself had offended him.

Still, he reached for the first young tree and began to work it free of its wrapping, keeping the roots intact. For all his sour looks, Sev did not shirk the task. He dug where he was told to dig, hauled what needed hauling, and planted each sapling, packing the soil down around the base with the heel of his hand.


 
Tʜᴇ Fᴏʀᴄᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴡs ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴜs

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CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM - UNKNOWN PLANET
BreadDivider
Vohm-Raet remained knelt in the dirt, listening quietly as the two younger men spoke. Jalen's reassurance about the nutri-paste did not entirely erase his shame, but the name Kai'el caught his attention. He gave a single, slow nod of respect to the Knight, recognizing the family name and the weight it carried without needing to say it aloud.

When Jalen described Giju's oceans to Tempo, Vohm-Raet's wide mouth twitched into a faint smile. For a second, he could almost feel the cool water of his homeworld, a sharp contrast to the dry, dusty wind currently blowing grit across his face. He listened as the small desert-dweller spoke about community helping those who were lost.

He could sense the loneliness in Tempo's posture, realizing the small hermit understood isolation just as well as he did. But it was Tempo's complaint about being small and weak that made Vohm-Raet decide it was time to move. Placing his massive hands flat on the ground first to show he was moving, the Herglic stood up with a low grunt.

His shadow instantly fell over both Jalen Kai'el Jalen Kai'el and Tempo Tempo blocking out the bright sun. He took a slow, careful step toward the Veridian shuttle, making sure his feet cleared the empty wrappers. "Stature is a heavy thing to carry, young Tempo, no matter your size," Vohm-Raet said, his deep voice rumbling softly as they walked toward the open cargo bay.

"You wish for height and strength to be taken seriously. Yet, my entire life has been spent trying to look smaller, because my size makes people afraid. Fear is not the same as respect." They reached the ramp of the shuttle. Inside were large crates of food and heavy bags of seeds.

Without a sound, Vohm-Raet reached out and lifted a massive shipping container that would usually require a repulsor-jack to move. He tucked it effortlessly under one large arm. He looked down at Tempo, his dark eyes wrinkling at the corners.

"Being small means you can walk on fragile ground without breaking it," Vohm-Raet said quietly, adjusting his grip on the crate. "You notice the trash on the ground. You see the small details that giants blindly crush under their feet. Do not wish away your size. The galaxy already has more than enough blunt instruments."

He glanced sideways at Jalen, a bit of his dry humor finally returning to his voice. "Though, if Jalen is truly exhausting you with all this work, I am more than willing to sit on him until he changes your schedule. It is the least I can do to pay for this fruit."

 

Refuge
Tags: Sevrin Sevrin
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Epo-1, Lushi

"Padawans," he muttered under his breath, as though the word itself had offended him.

Still, he reached for the first young tree and began to work it free of its wrapping, keeping the roots intact. For all his sour looks, Sev did not shirk the task. He dug where he was told to dig, hauled what needed hauling, and planted each sapling, packing the soil down around the base with the heel of his hand.

Loomi hummed to herself as she worked, seeming quite content to perform repetitive motions and relax. She didn't need to see his frustration, she could feel it in the air around him. The Godoan would never admit that she maybe found such a thing amusing.

"You know, I can go find you some gloves," she told him.

It was about then that she felt more emotions approaching, her antennae flicking as she took in the growing presence.


"Ah, perfect," Loomi reacted. "I think our help is here."

 


"Though, if Jalen is truly exhausting you with all this work, I am more than willing to sit on him until he changes your schedule. It is the least I can do to pay for this fruit."

"Don't worry," Jalen exhaled. "I don't think I could assign him a schedule even if I tried..."

He could pick him up by the scruff if he had to though, but Jalen reserved that for very few moments. A secret weapon for later. As they made their way into the vessel, the bling knight would scoop up a crate and rest it on his shoulder. A soft chuckle escaped his chest.

"I think you'll find this place is more suited to lots more kinds of folks than you think," he told Vohm-Raet. "There are lots of people here from lots of places. There's a Jedi proverb about size not mattering I could spout, but I don't really remember the words... regardless, maybe you should stick around for a while. Get to know people."

Maybe being social would help with the sorrow. It helped Jalen.


 

Nyles Kote

Strill Securities Me'sene Tra'alor'an

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Friendly Units:
NF-01 Nano-flares loaded in countermeasure launchers fleet-wide.
Subvessels


Subvessels


Subvessels



Tag(s): Beltor "Bell" Cyrus Beltor "Bell" Cyrus

Equipment


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Refuge orbit

Between the Tra'naur'kad and the Morut, Nyles knew which company ship he would prefer to be out here. He'd told the alorthat much when they'd left for Refuge. He was one of the company's heads, the real man in charge, he had not shabla right to be running off as he pleased with no real escort. Shuklaar, bad, as he usually did, relented in the end. He was a lot of things, illogical was not one of them, and he could see that at the end of the day, Nyles had a point.

Nyles had brought the Morut's two escorts though it seemed unnecessary at the time. This was supposed to be friendly space. Then again, nothing was safe until you put in the work to make it so and till they had established the infrastructure and overlapping patrols there was no way to have an assurance of the illusion of safety. So when Aran had insisted on accompanying them, he knew had had to be there to make sure nothing went wrong. At least one of the three of them had to get back.

There were contingencies within contingencies in the event that one or all of them never made it back, haran he had written some of them. That was not going to be the case while he or his guns were allowed a say in it. Of course, with this Farworlds Alliance they were not on their own, and their ability to survive the night as a group hinged on their ability to work together. How well that could be achieved remained to be seen. For some Manda-forsaken reason, he was strangely optimistic about it this time.

"Alor, contact coming out of hyperspace," announced Anni Kyrdol from the operations station right as her voice snapped him out of his thoughts and the same information appeared on his bridge station. "IFF resolving now," she added as a holographic representation of the ship appeared on bridge's tactical display. FWN? What the haran kinda identification was that? First he'd ever heard of it, that was for sure. Impressive looking ship though, if a little old in design. He remembered a few of these reimagined sorts of warships during his service to the CIS.

"Incoming comms, alor, passing it to you," announced Gett Netra from the comms station.

<<Warspite to Darasuum Morut: Su cuy'gar!, and fair greetings. Warspite and company requests permission to form off starboard echelon to keep station and aid in off loading of supplies and work crews. Message end.>>

The ship's transponder flashed onto his HUD as the message played through the speakers. Mando'a? This was a learned man, that much was sure. "Su cuy'gar, burc'ya. Permission granted, feel free, Transmitting IFFs and data-link handshake codes." Well, that was one more set of eyes peeled for hostiles, he sure as shab wasn't going to object.
 

Tempo blinked at what the big fellow said, having not considered the idea of being feared simply for being so large.

"I bet you're a sweetheart back on your homeworld though, huh?" Tempo asked lightly, thinking back to his own homeworld, the one he had run away from years ago now.

He shook his head with a little smile and tucked the trash away into his pack, intending to dispose of it, or recycle it later in a proper manner. The small creature that was Tempo moved with an agile feralness to him much akin to a dessert cat.

"Maybe so… I've been hired to deal with womp rats and other small pests enough times due to my stature to know at least some people find it useful," he mused. "I suppose everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, things they cannot change all that much."

He scampered on board after Jalen and reached up for a crate. It took him a few attempts, his fingers scrabbling for a good hold before he finally hefted it up and balanced it awkwardly against his hip. He took a few unsteady steps down the ramp, trying very hard not to trip over his own two feet and send the crate's contents tumbling everywhere.

"I hope you can forgive me for being envious of that which I do not have," he chirped before giving a small chuckle. "That's quite alright… I help Jalen because I want to."

He added the bit of context to ensure Vohm-Raet Vohm-Raet knew Jalen wasn't some kind of taskmaster. Tempo glanced out over the surrounding landscape, ears giving a small twitch as he took it all in.

"This is a pretty odd-looking planet though, huh? Pretty, but a little odd… no?"


 
Finally the tactical droid returned with a reorganized list, giving the datapad back to novac "ah thanks" he said before the droid wandered off. Because he had so many droids doing different things novac was currently just sitting on the ground with 2 datapads sending out orders to his droids. He had them split into handing out food and water to refugees, unloading cargo, tending to and planting greenery, and most of them helping build the prefab shelters. It was a lot but it was surprisingly easy to do, well besides keeping track of everyone at times.

Though novac felt a bit bad just sitting around, well its not like he was doing nothing but still. But by now it would probably be fine to leave the droids to do their thing, seems they have all gotten in it down and probably would need direct orders by him unless something went wrong.

Getting on his commlink novac spoke, "This is novac, if anyone needs me I'm available. If you need any of my droids feel free to borrow em"

Getting up to go do what he could a small child who was playing tag with a probe droid and looking back at it ran into him. They bounced off him and fell over, but before novac could help them up they got up and looked at him with wide eyes. "Whoooa, mom look I found a giant, sorry mr. giant" they said before running off.

tags: @open to anyone
 
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Tʜᴇ Fᴏʀᴄᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴡs ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴜs

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CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM - UNKNOWN PLANET
BreadDivider
Vohm-Raet watched Tempo Tempo struggle with the crate, his massive fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and steady the smaller beings. He held back knowing that his hands were strong enough to accidently crush the boy's entire body should he react without thinking. He decided to wait until the young man found his balance before looking across the surrounding landscape.

The horizon was a line of strange rocks and shimmering heat, a world that felt far too fragile for a monster from the deep, Vohm-Raet exhaled a slow breath that stirred the dirt near the shuttle's landing struts. "It is... dry," Vohm-Raet rumbled, his voice carrying a soft, thoughtful weight.

"To me, a world without the weight of an ocean overhead always feels unfinished. A bit like a house without a roof. But oddity often hides a great deal of beauty, if one is patient enough to look past the dust." This was a lesson that more people should learn, as the memory cameback to him. "Monster!" a woman yelled, "Beast!" a man exclaimed, his voice filled with fear.

Every planet had treated him in the same manner, except for his home world and those of his kind. Even being a Jedi Master did little to alter his reputation among the citizens and even his fellow Jedi.

He shook his head from such dark thoughts as he followed Jalen Kai'el Jalen Kai'el and Temp down the ramp, the heavy shipping container tucked under his arm like a small package. Each step he took was careful, his eyes constantly scanning the ground to ensure his feet didn't land on the boy or any fragile equipment.

"I have been told I have a gentle spirit, yes," he said, answering Tempo's earlier question about being a sweetheart. A sad chuckle coming from deep within his chest as a coping mechanism. "Though on Giju, I was merely one among many. It is only when I am among the dry-landers that I become a sweetheart or a monster. Perspective is a strange thing." He turned his head toward Jalen as they walked toward the temporary storage tents. The suggestion to stay and get to know the people struck a chord in him, though he felt the familiar pull of his own melancholy.

"I have spent much of my life guarding the path from a distance, Jalen," Vohm-Raet said quietly. "Perhaps the current has guided me here for a reason other than moving boxes. Though, at the moment, the boxes are a much simpler problem to solve than the state of the galaxy." He stopped at the edge of the storage area and lowered the massive crate to the ground.

He moved with such deliberate slowness that the crate didn't make a sound as it touched the dirt. He then reached out a finger and gently nudged a smaller bag of seeds that had shifted toward the edge of the ramp. He could sense something in the force but could not determine its origin because of so many people gathered around.

 
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"That's quite alright… I help Jalen because I want to."

Jalen felt a chill run down his spine. Then a fuzzy feeling formed in his gut. He hated how something so simple could make him feel... complicated. He didn't know how he stumbled into this of all people. The Knight steeled himself and continued onwards, though, not letting himself get paralyzed by affection just yet...

He could save that for later.


"Perhaps the current has guided me here for a reason other than moving boxes. Though, at the moment, the boxes are a much simpler problem to solve than the state of the galaxy."

"The offer stands," Jalen expressed. "And if it makes you feel better, there's a ocean of sorts not too far from here as well. If you've been missing the water."

And then a transmission over the open communications channel.


"This is novac, if anyone needs me I'm available. If you need any of my droids feel free to borrow em"

Jalen let out an exhale before he opened his comms.

"There are multiple transport shuttles in the designated landing zone, padawan," Jalen stated. "If you need something to do, head there. We have lots of produce to relocate."


 

Sergeant Omen

Arc Trooper Sergeant of the 41st Elite Corps
Omen had bet he would get this attitude from Aren; he didn't know how bad it would be. But here she was in pissy mode, ignoring everything but her own feelings. The sigh that left Omen's mouth as Aren approached him from behind was a long one. He understood why Aren hated the Jedi this much. They had embarrassed her and made her think about whether what she did was right, something Aren hated from his personal experience. "You are just another worker wanting to help. I doubt the most they will give you will be a passing word." Though if they really found out who she was, the Jedi would have some questions... So very difficult questions to answer.

As Aren brushed past, muttering what need to be done in just a glance, he pulled her back in and gave her a long kiss that he tried to make last till the end of time, saying softly to her when they finally did part. "You'll do fine, have some fun. Helping these people won't be a waste." And then he let her go, knowing her hands needed to be something or else she would be driven mad in this place of eternal sunshine.

Thankfully, Aren had her back turned, walking away as he took off his jacket, exposing a ripped crop top that said "Aren's menance" with a picture that showed a human Aren chasing after a ack-ack dog with Omen's face on it, trying to grab his flailing leash while dodging pedestrains. It defiently was not on the approved list for Omen to wear but when Aren was so distracted by other things... What she didn't know wouldn't kill her. And so he went off towards the fields, hoping to lend a helping hand where he could help most.

Aren D'Shade Aren D'Shade , Open
 







Tempo seemed pleased that he had been permitted to shoulder his share of the work, even if his smaller form made each task a little more difficult. He listened as the pair spoke of the water and the nearby ocean that might be utilized.

Tempo's ears perked when Jalen briefly addressed Novac Lyrikal Novac Lyrikal , though his gaze soon shifted back toward Vohm-Raet Vohm-Raet .

"Yeah, I think it'd be pretty neat if you stuck around for a little while. This place seems to be home to all sorts of people, in all manner of shapes and sizes… Might be fun to trade some of our better stories around a campfire or three, eh?" Tempo suggested.

"I've never really been to a proper, working Jedi Temple before… I don't think so, anyway. There seem to be quite a few Jedi here, and I'm curious to learn what they're actually like. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing what they're about firsthand, and this seems like a fine place to start."

After lowering his crate, Tempo rubbed at one shoulder, working a little soreness from the joint.

"I think it's rather amazing, really… the way you all manage to keep the Light of hope burning and foster a community amid such adversity. Color me impressed."

His attention settled more fully upon Jalen.

"I'm told that being a Jedi is typically a lifelong path… Have you always belonged to the Order?" Tempo asked curiously. He nudged Jalen in playful passing before scampering around to his other side with unmistakable purpose.


 


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Braze had… well, he had slept in after the events of the previous night.

He still wasn't entirely certain how he had made it 'home,' only that he had awakened beneath familiar ceilings with no clear memory of the journey back. Dark circles lingered beneath his eyes, yet beneath the weariness rested an odd sense of renewal. He felt more rejuvenated than he had in a very long time, as though some tightly drawn knot within him had finally begun to loosen.

Cup of tea in hand, Braze peered across the busy scene unfolding around him. A small pang of guilt pressed at him upon realizing everyone else had already set to work. He blinked over the rim of his cup, watching a few of the smaller figures nearly collide with Novac Lyrikal Novac Lyrikal before scampering away again.

The brightness of the day made him wince. Braze narrowed his eyes against it, then glanced toward Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen and Aren D'Shade Aren D'Shade with a curious tilt of his head. The violet-haired woman reminded him rather painfully of someone else he had been missing as of late… though he kept the thought to himself and buried it beneath another sip of tea.

Eventually, he wandered over to Novac Lyrikal Novac Lyrikal 's side and glanced up at him.

"You're the Padawan who snuck off to Dromund Kaas, aren't you?" Braze asked simply, a wry grin tugging at his mouth.

He followed the question with a faint, somewhat tired wave toward Omen and his lady friend.

 




Tags: Ko Vuto Ko Vuto
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Valor nodded, watching the Kel Dor depart. When Ko returned, Valor arched one snowy-white brow.

"Thieves? That's a rather large leap, isn't it? I can't imagine there are many of those lurking all the way out here," he offered simply. "You've found a missing droid and already promoted yourself to investigator, judge, and arresting officer?"

"I'll help you look for them, sure… I can't imagine a slow box of bolts has gotten very far,"
Valor chirped. "I suppose shouting 'Stop, thief!' is a plan… not a particularly good one, but technically a plan."

He hopped to his feet, wrapped up the remainder of the onigiri he had been eating, and tucked it into one of the sleeves of his top before dusting off the seat of his trousers.

"If there are thieves, how exactly do you intend to arrest them?" Valor asked, tipping his head. "You do have restraints, don't you… or were you planning to glare them into surrender?"

 
Tʜᴇ Fᴏʀᴄᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴡs ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴜs

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CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM - UNKNOWN PLANET
BreadDivider
Vohm-Raet kept his eyes on the storage tent floor, his large fingers still lightly resting on the bag of seeds he had just adjusted. The static hum of the transmission was a distant buzz compared to the sudden ripple he had felt in the Force just moments before. It was a faint, tangled thread, lost beneath the noisy canopy of a hundred refugees moving, breathing, and anxious for their future.

He didn't force his mind to chase it. Experience had taught him that the currents revealed themselves in their own time, not when demanded. Instead, he turned his massive head toward Jalen Kai'el Jalen Kai'el as they mentioned a nearby ocean. The words were a welcome relief for the Herglic. "An ocean," Vohm-Raet murmured, the deep rumble of his voice carrying a sudden, wistful note.

"A welcome thought, Jalen. Even a dry-land sea has a way of grounding the spirit. I may well take you up on that." He shifted slightly, folding his thick arms over his chest to look smaller as Tempo Tempo began asking about whether they had always belonged to the Order. The question was innocent but it struck a deeply buried chord within him.

A somber expression settled over Vohm-Raet's wide features, his dark eyes clouding over with the weight of a lifetime spent across different shores. He shook his head slowly, a heavy, deliberate motion. "No, young Tempo," Vohm-Raet said quietly, his voice dropping to a low whisper that barely carried over the rustling tent canvas.

"I have not always walked this path. For many years, I was a simple fisherman on Giju, casting nets into the deep waters and living a life far removed from lightsabers and galactic politics." He paused, eyes drifting to his own palms, recalling the rough, salt-crusted skin of his youth before the Force had pulled him from the tides. "It was Master Cilghal who found me," he continued, a profound sense of gratitude and sorrow mixing in his tone as he remembered his late Mon Calamari mentor.

"She saw a spark in a simple sailor and took me in, guiding me into the Jedi arts. I was older than most when I began, and the transition from the quiet of the sea to the noise of the galaxy was... heavy to navigate." With a slow, careful movement, Vohm-Raet sank back down to one knee in the dirt, a familiar gesture to bring his body down to their level. He didn't want to loom over them while they talked, especially as the weight of his past anchored him to the floor.

"The light does not burn because the galaxy is kind," Vohm-Raet added softly, his dark eyes reflecting the harsh frontier light as he looked between Jalen and Tempo. "It burns because the darkness is absolute without it. But it is the community you speak of, these people building shelters in the dust that gives the light a reason to exist." He reached into his tunic and produced the large, vivid meloorun fruit Tempo had given him earlier. He turned it over in his massive palm, the bright orange skin looking tiny against his thick fingers.

 
Aren looked thoroughly unimpressed by Omen's assessment of her mood. Not because he was entirely wrong, but because he seemed far too pleased with himself while being wrong. "I am not in a mood." The declaration would have carried more weight if she had not been standing with her arms crossed, muttering about Jedi, and glaring at absolutely no one in particular. The kiss interrupted whatever rebuttal she had been preparing, which was irritating, mostly because it worked. By the time he pulled back, the edge in her expression had softened just enough to be noticeable. Barely.

"You weaponize affection," she called after him as he stepped away, fully aware the accusation would change nothing. Nothing ever did. She watched him disappear toward the work crews, then let out a slow breath and turned her attention to the settlement itself. The place was busy in a way that felt strangely organic. Workers moved between half-finished structures with tools and supplies. Refugees gathered in small clusters, speaking quietly. Children darted between cargo stacks and construction equipment with the uncanny ability all children possessed to appear exactly where they should not. It was difficult to dislike the place. Annoyingly difficult.

The realization irritated her enough that she immediately looked for something productive to do. Her gaze swept across the construction area before settling on a familiar sight: droids. Lots of droids. More importantly, organized droids. That alone narrowed the list of responsible parties considerably. Adjusting the strap of her tool bag, she began walking in their direction, her attention following the flow of labor units moving supplies between work sites. Someone had distributed them intelligently. Food lines. Cargo handling. Shelter construction. Greenery. Resource allocation. Efficient. The observation arrived automatically.

By the time she located the source, Novac had already finished his comm call and was standing again after being declared a giant by a small child. Aren watched the interaction for a moment, the corner of her mouth twitching despite herself. Children seemed uniquely capable of saying things everyone else was polite enough not to. She approached without hurry, stopping at a comfortable distance before speaking. "You've got them organized well." The compliment arrived plainly, matter-of-fact, without embellishment.

Her eyes followed a pair of labor droids hauling construction materials toward one of the prefab sites. "Most people either micromanage every movement or let them wander into inefficiency. Yours seem to know what they're doing." The noise of the settlement continued around them, machinery, voices, the steady rhythm of construction, and for the first time since arriving, she looked almost comfortable. Almost.

Then her attention drifted toward a cargo-handling unit moving across the site. A faint grinding sound reached her ears. Aren frowned. "Though one of your loaders is about to develop a very expensive opinion about bearing maintenance." The observation slipped out automatically, the way all mechanical assessments did, as natural as breathing.

She looked back toward Novac. "Aren." The introduction came a second late, as though she had remembered halfway through the conversation that people generally introduced themselves before critiquing machinery.

Novac Lyrikal Novac Lyrikal Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen
 

Alex Stern

Outer Rim Resources Director

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Alex watched the walkers beat a path from one settlement site to another, one hand curled in the pocket of his old nerf-hide jacket and sipping his caf until his attention was caught by a young Twi'lek girl also watching the machines. They weren't the engineering and construction equipment he'd been expecting, but if the new locals were alright with them, he supposed they'd do. "Thank you Free Worlds, that sounds good and we appreciate the assistance." He eventually commed back, already running mental checks against what was needed to shore up the paths against use and erosion.

Deep in system, far closer than many ships could penetrate, one of the massive Outer Rim Resources Magellan freighters transitioned out of lightspeed. The ship's captain soon checked in and was passed up the chain to Alex per his request, and they were soon conversing through his earpiece. "Stay in orbit for now and focus on unloading the station parts, fuel, and foodstuffs. We dont have a landing zone large enough for you here, so it'll be slow going in orbit." Which wasn't something he was terribly happy about, lately the Magellan's were being pulled off their usual routes to deliver the massive amounts of aid only their holds could deliver. It only meant that their regular trade suffered. "Also contact the other fleets and let them know we're passing out free fuel and other supplies. I'm sure most brought everything they'd need, but doesn't hurt to be friendly." Though with the rate self-fueling and near perpetual engines had been taking over, Alex wondered how many would even consider taking up the offer of fuel.

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A report came in on one of his holopads from a patrol group, for a second novac got a worried until he read what it was. Just some local wildlife the group had to shoo away.

Going over a few final thing on the datapad he put them under his cloak, before he could go help unload cargo Braze Braze appeared by his side. ah chit, hes asked about dromund, hope he wont get a lecture novac though.

Looking down at him, "oh hey braze. uuuuh no... yea, yea i was , but dont worry , matthew already talked to me about it." he noticed braze's look tired and asked. "You get enough sleep last night?" He asked partly to change the subject, but main because he was being nice. After dromund everyone deserved to sleep plenty. Even he over slept a total of five hours when he usually sleeps at least three, maybe four.

He felt Aren D'Shade Aren D'Shade approaching before he saw or heard her. "ah thanks, I try my best with them. Luckily they know what their doing, partly because they've helped me move salvage and what not so much. Thats actually how i got most of them, in junkyards broken and forgotten. Fixed em up and now they live with me on my frigate."

When she mentioned the failing part he frowned a tad as well. "uugh bd-33, go see a repair droid please, at least get a temporary fix." The droid at first just kept working, finally letting out a long beep as if sighing, set the cargo it was carrying down and went to go see a repair droid. "I swear he's like a old man. Refuses to address technical problems and just ignores em. Gonna get himself broken in a major way one of these days I swear."

When she gave her name novac simply nodded and gave his "Novac"
 
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