Public Flight from Tapani [Jedi - Rebels - Heroes]

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Frego System
Tags: Jonyna Si

Aurelian listened without interrupting, his expression carefully neutral as the list of titles kept coming. One brow crept upward despite his best efforts. He tried to keep track. Jedi Master. Sentinel. Mystic. Grandmaster. Founder. Leader. By the end, he had given up on all of them except the last. Leader of the Wild Space Rebellion. That one mattered.

He studied her openly. Cathar, poised, eyes sharp. She looked capable, certainly. Dangerous, if pressed. But she did not wear rebellion the way the holovids had taught him to expect. No scars on display. No bitterness hanging off her like smoke.

"A treaty," he repeated lightly. "I'll admit, that's not where I thought this conversation was going."

His smile sharpened, mischief slipping through. "Should the High Republic be concerned that your rebellion plans to rebel against us next? I'm struggling to imagine what we could have done to deserve it."

Flattery, he thought. Or a warning. Either way, interesting. He held her gaze for a beat longer, then inclined his head. "Jokes aside, you've found the right person."

Aurelian gestured with two fingers. The guards peeled away without comment as he turned and walked, expecting her to follow. He led her into a small conference room set into the hangar's upper level. The viewport dominated one wall, offering a clear view of the evacuation in motion. Aid ships drifting in clean lines. Fighters weaving tight patterns. Order, holding by a thread. He felt no urge to rush back. His crew had this. He had chosen them well.

Aurelian rested his hands on the edge of the table, eyes flicking once to the stars before returning to her. Curiosity stirred again, bright and alive.

"So," he said, tone easy but attentive, "Jedi Master. What can the Republic do for your rebellion?"

​

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAGS: Aurelian Veruna​

The truth was, she had plenty of scars hidden under her pristine fur. Plenty of bitterness tucked away deep. But she didn't show it. She didn't wear it like a badge of honor, rather she hid it as to not let it define her.

The response was a coy smirk. One much more dangerous than a smile, or a frown. There was a confidence, an understanding.

"In theory, you shouldn't need to worry. In theory." Jonyna repeated, as if to emphasize that point. "The Wild Space Rebellion only cares about one thing. Tearing down Tyranny. From what I've heard, the High Republic is much like the Alliance was. A haven of freedoms. I can respect that. Should that ever change, perhaps then we'll have to reconsider our stance. But for now, We're happy to have an ally."

With that veiled threat put aside, Jonyna continued, hand idly sitting on the hilts of her katanas.

"Put simply? We need sanctuaries. Our rebel crews are risking their lives on a daily basis, and can't afford to find rest out in the field. I wouldn't ask the High Republic to go to war with us, not yet at least, but having a place where my people can retreat to once the mission is done without risk of being hunted, that would do well for now. That would give my people the chance to recuperate. That is all I ask for now. Later, when the war has gotten more intense? That will be a question for then, not now."

 

[Anthony Gray Sun]

Tags: Emissary of Strife Ride Zannon​

The eight B-wings couldn't admittedly do much to prevent their targetting systems from afar. That of course, didn't stop them from using their primary tactic anyways.

24 heavy ion cannons opened up, firing in the vague direction of the frigate before it could seek cover in the horde of civilian ships. Not that it would stop them, the B-wing crews knew if they could take the shields down on that frigate, the rest of the fleet could move in and hunt it down.

And yet, the lone fighter of Anthony watched a different target.

He could sense them just as much as they did him.

As Ride dove, Anthony kept high. Waiting, before following after. The wings on his fighter opened up, his systems shifting. Shields lowered, guns flared, engines prioritizing maneuverability over speed.

And Anthony looking for a lock.

"Alright Sith, Game on."

 

[Dankaia Virkenn]

[]

Sleep Tonight - The Birthday Massacre​

Location: Frego
Objective: 1 - Humanitarian Efforts
Tag: Open


The first warning came not from alarms, but from the sky itself; an abrupt distortion rippling through the cloud cover as Sith dropships tore out of hyperspace with brutal disregard for subtlety. Their hulls burned crimson with reactor light, angular silhouettes descending like predatory machines rather than vessels of mercy. Sensor towers at the edge of the refugee camp flickered and died in cascading failures, and a heartbeat later the night was split open by the shriek of ion thrusters.

Energy shields flared too late, bathing the tents and modular shelters in stuttering light as the camp's power grid buckled under targeted EMP bursts.

Panic spread faster than the ships' shadows, refugees scattering as the first volleys struck the perimeter in disciplined, surgical lines. Dropship ramps yawned open mid-descent, disgorging armored Sith troopers whose boots hit the ground in perfect, mechanical unison. Red tactical glyphs scrolled across their visors as they advanced, blasters already firing, turning habitation units into molten wreckage.

Above it all, the dropships hovered like executioners, cannons tracking movement with cold precision, while the camp, built for sanctuary, not war, collapsed into fire, smoke, and screaming circuitry beneath the calculated fury of the assault.

Dankaia's voice cut through the chaos, amplified by her comm but charged with something older than circuitry. "All able bodies; Jedi, volunteers, anyone who can still stand, we protect the refugees first," she commanded, scanning the burning camp as targeting data and life-signs cascaded across her vampiric eyes. "Forget the perimeter. Forget the ships. Hold the line long enough to get them out."

Her words carried urgency without panic, a stabilizing signal in a field of fear, and those who heard it felt their resolve harden as evac beacons flared to life behind her.

She unclipped her lightsaber hilt from her belt in one smooth motion, using the Force to activate it, as she broke into a sprint. The blade ignited with a sharp, luminous snap; brilliant and humming, its orange glow with black-like veins running down the plasma blade refracting through smoke and falling ash, as she charged headlong toward the first advancing Sith trooper squadron.

Blaster fire streaked toward her in disciplined bursts, but Dankaia met it without slowing, deflecting bolts in flashing arcs of light as her boots struck sparks from shattered and strewn durasteel debirs. She closed the distance like a force of nature, a single figure of living will and burning energy; and full of vampiric rage, throwing herself into the oncoming wave before it could reach those who had nowhere left to run.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Cybernetics / Bionics
  • Left Hand
  • Cybernetic Brain Chip
  • Cybernetic Heart
  • Cybernetic Spine
  • Cybernetic Rib Cage
  • Cybernetic Limb
• Weapon(s)
  • Lightsaber

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Frego System
Tags: Jonyna Si

Aurelian's smile lingered as she spoke, slow and amused, the kind that suggested he was enjoying the conversation more than he should. A rebellion with principles. A rebellion with conditions. He found that interesting.

He turned toward the viewport as she continued, watching the evacuation unfold. Ships slipping into ordered lanes. Children and families carried away from the edge of annihilation. This was the weight he carried. Not ideals. People.

"Tyranny," he said, testing the word. His gaze stayed on the stars. "Define that for me. The Empire? The Sith remnants tearing through Tapani? Or anyone with enough power and too little restraint?"

He glanced back at her, eyes sharp now. Curious, but careful. "Sanctuaries are possible," he continued. "That part is easy. I can name half a dozen worlds that would take your people in quietly, and another dozen that would do it loudly just to spite the Sith. Logistically, it's not complicated."

He paused, then rested his palms on the table. The humor faded, replaced by something steadier. "But I don't command a roaming rebellion," he said. "I represent a Republic. Trillions of civilians who did not sign up to be brave."

His gaze held hers. "If my worlds shelter your crews, they become targets. Raids and skirmishes have a way of leaving trails. I need to know what guarantees you can offer that your war won't follow my people home."

​

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAGS: Aurelian Veruna​

"The Definition we follow, is simply. Anyone who tells their people they can't be happy to live however they choose. To travel, to fight, to thrive. We don't care if it's one person, one planet, one government. Your Republic, as far as I can tell, is not one of those groups. Your people are treated fairly." Jonyna took a moment to let that settle, before continuing.

"As for what we can offer...I can't guarantee that there won't be reprisal for giving us sanctuary. The Sith, The Empires, The Diarchy, all of them will be targets for us. All of them will be furious if they find out my men are using your planets as sanctuary. But," She paused, if only for dramatic effect probably. "They want your republic off the map anyways. Right now, the High Republic is all that's left. Sith to the west, crime syndicates to the east, imperials to the north, you're an island right now. Way I see it, having an ally to the south wouldn't be so bad, eh? And we're not just roaming rebels. Look, I'll promise this much. We won't be using your planets as bases, only sanctuary. I won't invoke a war if you don't want one. I won't drag you into something, but I can't tell you that a storm isn't brewing. What happens within the Rebellion, won't touch your planets by our choice."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Frego System
Tags: Jonyna Si

Aurelian took a seat at the table, folding one leg over the other as he listened. He did not interrupt. He rarely did when someone was being honest, or thought they were. Her definition lingered in his mind, turning slowly. Freedom. Happiness. Choice. Clean words. Dangerous ones.

"That definition is… slippery," he said at last. His tone stayed light, but his eyes were thoughtful. "I don't know a single government that tells its people they aren't allowed to be happy. Not even the Sith would phrase it that way."

He glanced toward the viewport again. A transport cleared the bay, engines flaring. Another family gone. Good.

"We stand for democracy," he continued. "And I'd still wager there are citizens in the Republic who aren't happy. There always are. Does that make us a future target? Or am I being judged by intent rather than outcome?"

He looked back at her, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. "I might be arguing for sport. Indulge me."

His fingers tapped once against the table. "The Diarchy. The Imperial Confederation. I've seen no evidence of them acting against us, nor have I heard their citizens speak of tyranny in the way you describe. Outside of Black Sun, no major power has called for war on the Republic. So help me understand why I should involve my worlds in conflicts we are not currently part of."

He leaned back slightly. The humor drained away.

"The Empire, I understand. A superweapon over Atrisia is enough to make monsters out of anyone. The Sith hiding behind their black wall makes sense too. But the others?" He shook his head once. "If your crews strike them and then seek shelter in Republic space, it doesn't matter what you call sanctuary. To them, it looks like complicity."

His gaze settled on her, steady and unflinching. "That puts me in wars I didn't choose, with civilians who never agreed to fight them. And that," he said quietly, "is a position I don't favor."

​